#And in tonights case these assholes went for the artist's close ones???

[harry-on-broadway]

The Last Line: Part Two

Part Two

Word Count: 12.1K || Series Masterlist || Rating: M

A/N: Uh, so it’s been a minute. Life got kind of busy and I had to put this on the back burner for a little bit, but it has been fun to step back into this world. Would love to hear what you think! 

***

The venue was stuffy, the floor was sticky, and the smoky air made her feel as if she’d traveled back in time, but the atmosphere made Penny feel alive.

It was a Wednesday night and she was spending the evening at The Echo where an emerging folk-rock band was playing a show. It was the first concert she had been to in a week and it was exactly the reminder she needed as to why she hadn’t quit her job. Darren had been in rare form recently, seemingly going out of his way to find problems with her stories and shoot down any pitch she made, relegating her to writing up stories from the wire, while the Google Doc of ideas she kept open at all times grew longer and longer. At least she had her concerts.

After making a couple of laps around the venue, mentally noting the size, makeup, and energy of the crowd for the review she’d be writing later that evening, she went back to the bar and ordered a drink. Seltzer with lime was always her go-to when she was working. It looked like she was drinking, but kept her sharp for the evening.

As she sipped her drink, she scanned the crowd looking for the other critics she usually saw on the scene. She’d noticed Mikael from the Times when she was waiting for her drink, and had spotted Angel at the coat check on her way in. It surprised Penny that they hadn’t made their way backstage yet. Critics were usually given a special waiting area where there were drinks, appetizers, and sometimes a chance to chat with whoever was performing that night ahead of the show.

Penny had tried that the first few times she’d been sent out on assignment, but stopped soon after. Maybe it was her relative inexperience compared to other critics, but she still hadn’t perfected the idea of separating the art from the artist and found it difficult to be impartial after getting to know someone – she’d either feel bad giving a negative review to a great person or, on one occasion, want to give a shittier than needed review to the asshole who tried to cop a feel. Regardless, her fellow critics would soon be taking their respective spots around the venue.

For venues like The Echo, Penny preferred to stand in the back of the room where she had an equally good view of the artist and crowd, all the better to set the scene for her readers. She scanned the room again as the opener took the stage, noting how the room had started to fill even more, until she spotted the last person she’d expected to see.

Harry.

He locked eyes with her and she froze, hoping he was looking at someone behind her. But that clearly wasn’t the case as Harry raised his glass to her from across the room. She mimicked the gesture, unsure of what else to do. She paused, waiting for something else, a mouthed word or a wave, but Harry simply turned back to face front. Leaving Penny to do the same.

Suddenly, she was filled with self-consciousness. Was it just her or was he looking at her? She could feel what she thought were his eyes fixed on her, but each time she turned to look at him, he was focued on the stage. The opener began playing and Penny, though she didn’t need to, tried to focus on taking notes to get her brain back in work mode. Five or six songs later – she couldn’t remember – the lights came up and the buzz of conversation returned. So had her anxiety over Harry. Feeling shaky, she went back to the bar for some water, taking a sip as she stepped off to the side.

“How are you doing?” a quiet voice asked, close to her ear, causing her to jump. “Shit,” Harry said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, you’re good. It’s good,” Penny said, moving away from the bar. “I uh, didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” she said, scrambling for words.

“I’ve had the tickets for a while now,” Harry replied. “Don’t worry, I’m not following you or anything,” he added quickly. He paused as Penny looked at him. “Um, did you get my email?” he asked. He was trying to keep his tone casual, but Penny could sense a self-consciousness to the question.

“I did.”

“Oh, good.” His brow twisted into a frown. “I wasn’t sure since you didn’t respond.”

“I didn’t think I needed to, seeing as we’re not friends and I have no reason to talk to you.”

“We’re talking now,” Harry said.

“Yeah, and, as I said, we have no reason to.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“What was that for?” Penny shot back.

“Nothing.”

“No, it was something. So go ahead.”

Harry sighed. “It’s common courtesy to reply to someone and accept the apology that they offer.”

“What if I don’t accept it?”

“You’re not accepting my apology?”

Penny shrugged. “You were kind of dick and what you said hurt me. I’m allowed to feel that way and not accept the apology.” She knew she was being stubborn and petulant for no good reason, but she dug her heels in anyway. “And this is also kind of insulting, you coming in here and telling me how I should do my job…again.”

“OK,” Harry said, defensively. “I’ve never told you how to do your job. I just said I didn’t like what you’d written. Or that you ignored my email. Which, if we’re airing it all out right now, I thought was kind of rude.”

“Oh my God, do you ever stop?” Penny yelled, causing heads to turn.

“Keep your voice down,” Harry muttered, sinking into himself, as he steered Penny away from the gathering crowd.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” They were standing across from each other and Penny had to crane her neck slightly to meet Harry’s eyes. His face was slightly flushed, from both the heat and his drink, and stray curls were poking out from underneath his cap. His brow and lips remained twisted into a scowl, and despite the intensity of his glare, there was a gentleness in his eyes. “Can you just leave me alone?” Penny asked, softer. “Despite what you probably think, I don’t want to fight you. I just want to watch the show and do my job.”

“You’re working tonight?” Harry asked, his own frosty demeanor cooling.

“Yeah. I’ve got to file a review bright and early tomorrow, so I just want to make it through the night without incident.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then,” Harry said, turning to go back to where he had initially been standing. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“What’s wrong?” Penny asked. She answered her own question with one look. A crowd had gathered where Harry had previously been standing, with several people on their phones, scouring the crowd for him. “Word travels fast, huh?”

“Yeah,” Harry said with a sigh as the lights flashed, signaling the start of the show. “See you later.”

“You can stay here,” Penny said. The small peace offering was the least she could do. “I mean, it looks a little calmer over here. If that would make this more enjoyable for you.”

Harry stared at her, as if he was trying to see if there was some sort of catch to her offer. “Alright. If that’s fine with you.” Penny nodded. “Thanks,” he said again. “I really appreciate that.”

“You’re welcome.”

“See it’s not so hard to be polite, is it?”

“The offer only stands if you don’t talk to me,” Penny said quickly.  

“Roger that.”

The lights dimmed and Harry scooted closer to Penny, allowing other concert goers to pass by and get to their seats. “Sorry,” he whispered as he bumped her shoulder.

“It’s fine,” Penny whispered back, eyes facing forward.

As the band started to play, she tried to focus on the show, running through her mental list of notes she typically took during a show. There were the more technical ones. Questions of production value and ability, but also the less clinical aspects of the show that the average concert goer would want to know. What were people wearing? What was the overall vibe of the show? Did the band play the hits? Some special songs? But as she stood there listening, her thoughts kept wandering back to Harry.

Okkervil River was not the kind of band she pictured him listening to, but was he a secret fan? Was he scouting out something for his mysterious forthcoming record that she wasn’t supposed to know about? Penny always knew why she liked something and why she was in attendance, but the question that kept her going much of the time was why other audience members were there. And that question was only magnified with Harry.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him swaying along, the corners of his mouth gently turning upward as he watched the onstage action. He was obviously enjoying himself, another surprise.

The set was brief and after about 90 minutes the band left the stage and the lights came up.

“That was great,” Harry said.

“It really was. It was my first time seeing them and they set the bar very high.”

“It was your first time?”

“Yeah. Had you seen them before?”

Harry looked up at the ceiling, and it was clear that he was working on some sort of mental calculation. “I think this was my fourth time. Saw them a few times in London.”

“Oh, wow. Didn’t realize you were that big of a fan.”

Harry shrugged modestly. “I should probably be heading out,” he said, shifting on his feet as he watched the crowd start to head for the exits.

“I should be going too,” Penny said, looking in her bag to make sure her wallet, keys, and phone hadn’t been misplaced. “I need to get home and file this.”

“Where did you park?” Harry asked as they walked to the door.

“I didn’t park anywhere. I took an Uber,” Penny said. “I should probably call one now that I think about it.”

“Oh, I could give you a ride if you want.”

“Seriously?” Penny tried to hide her shock.

“Yeah. Consider it part of my ongoing apology tour since the email didn’t seem to work.”

“That’s lovely but I’m sure it’s out of your way.”

“It’s fine. I like night time drives anyways. They clear my head.”

“Harry, I don’t need this from you. I can just accept the apology and we can move on with our lives.”

Harry exhaled, sharply but without malice. “Has anyone ever told you how difficult you can be?”

Penny shot him a glare. “Difficult?”

“You yell at me in the restaurant, you refuse my apology, you refuse a ride home…stubborn as a mule.”

“Did you ever think I maybe didn’t want to get into a car with a strange man?”

“Did you ever think I maybe didn’t want to worry about you waiting around here alone?”

They were outside now, and Penny was thankful for the cool breeze that dulled the heat that had once again risen to her face. “Oh, well, that’s v-very kind of you,” she said, stumbling over her words. “But I do think it would be easiest if I just called an Uber.”

Harry rubbed his face. “OK, yeah, whatever.” Penny looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to leave. “The very least you can let me do is make sure you get into the car,” he said, making it clear that he wasn’t budging until she was on her way.

“Fine,” she said, punching in her location in the app. “Car should be here in about 15 minutes.”

“Why are you so insistent in your refusal to accept help from me?” Harry asked.

“Don’t get offended. It’s not just you, it’s all men.”

“OK, whatever, the question still stands.”

“I don’t think 15 minutes is enough time to unpack that,” Penny said with a grin. “Why were you so hostile towards me over 500 words that I wrote two years ago.”

“Fifteen minutes isn’t long enough to unpack that,” Harry replied with a smirk.

“Touché.”

“So…” Harry said after a moment, fighting against the awkward silence that had settled in between them. “Do you have any other concerts coming up?”

“Um…” Penny tried to think of her calendar. “I’m seeing Madison Cunningham and Andrew McMahon later this week and then this band called Talk to Plants next week. And then some friends and I have tickets to Queen later this month. That’s not work though, that’s just for fun.”

“Does it ever get boring going to so many concerts?”

Penny frowned. “Not boring per se but there are certain shows I get more excited for than others. But I try not to take it for granted. I know there are people who would kill to have this job. Do you have any shows coming up?” she asked, wanting to shift the subject away from her.

“Not really. I might try to see Ariana Grande soon but I’m just sort of playing it by ear. Not sure when I’ll be able to fit it in.”

“Is the new album keeping you busy then?” Penny’s eyes went wide as soon as the words were out her mouth. “Because I assume you’re making a new album? Since it’s coming up on two years after your first. And that seems to be a cycle most people like to follow.”

If Harry knew that she had been given inside information, he didn’t say anything, opting to keep the conversation rolling. “I’ve been writing and I’ve been in the studio but it will be a few months before you’ll need to sharpen your pitchfork for the review.”

“Oh, I don’t actually write for Pitchfork. I’m at The Moment,” Penny said. The joke was too easy.

“Well maybe you should make the move. Pitchfork seems more suitable for your demeanor.”

“What the fu–” Penny was cut off by a notification on her phone that her driver was approaching the curb.

“Get home safe,” Harry said, opening the door for Penny as the car idled next to them. “Let me know when you’re settled,” he added, gently shutting the door once Penny had situated herself inside.

Penny tried to ask what he meant by “suitable for her demeanor” but was cut off as the car pulled away. Putting Harry out of her mind, she settled into the backseat as the lights of the city flew by her. She opened up the Google Docs app on her phone and started drafting her review. A witty lede came to her rather quickly and the rest of the review flowed out of her after that. She’d have to clean it up before filing it to Darren, but that could wait until she was home. Her driver dropped her off at the entrance of her building, and she raced upstairs, quickly showering and throwing on some sweats and a t-shirt.

A cup of tea by her side, she sat on the couch and opened her laptop, pulling up the review she’d drafted in the car. She proofread it, adding some commas, fixing some spelling errors, and tweaking a few sentences so they flowed better. After a couple more read-throughs she felt satisfied, and shared the link with Darren, dropping him a Slack message as well. Sipping the warm beverage, she scanned her email, deleting some of the more useless messages and marking some to respond to when she logged on again in the morning. When she was finished, she went to close her laptop but hesitated.

Sighing, she knew what she needed to do and searching her inbox, she pulled up Harry’s apology email. Clicking on reply, she typed out a quick message – Made it home. Thanks for waiting with me. Hope you enjoyed the show.

She didn’t know what compelled her to do it, but it just felt right. She closed her computer and climbed into bed.

***

A chime signaling an email woke Harry from the light sleep he’d drifted off into. Ordinarily, he would have ignored it. Emails could almost always wait until morning. But for some reason, he rolled onto his side and lifted his phone from his nightstand. He squinted against the bright light coming from the device, and to make up for not wearing his glasses, and managed to make out the subject line: Re: An Apology.

“Fuck,” he said aloud to himself, scrambling to sit up and read whatever it was Penny had sent him.

It was only 13 words, arranged in the most perfunctory of phrases. No added emotion or extraneous details and punctuation. It was simple and straight to the point, but it knocked him out.

“Fuck,” he said louder, laying his head back against his pillow, phone clutched to his chest. He couldn’t explain why, but Penny Sanders was driving him out of his mind.

The next morning, he met Jeff and Tom at the base of Eaton Canyon. Harry always liked getting outdoors when he had the time, and both of his managers had been expressing interest in making more of an effort to get into nature, which had resulted in them setting up a weekly hike. Harry, usually the first to arrive, was last.  

“Big night, H?” Jeff said with a grin. “Assuming you’re late because you had to chase last night’s guest out.”

“Ha ha, Jeffrey,” Harry said tightly. “For your information, I didn’t sleep well. And before you go there, no, it wasn’t because of a hook up.”

“We’re just messing with you, H,” Jeff said, a little gentler. “Was something the matter? Do you feel OK?”

“No, everything’s fine. I was just keyed up from the concert,” Harry said as the three men started up the trail.

“Who’d you see again?” Jeff asked.

“Okkervil River.”

“Really?” Tom chimed in. “I think Penny was there last night.”

“Yeah, she was,” Harry said, trying to remain calm. “I actually ended up standing with her during the show.”

“Really?” Jeff said as he and Tom stopped on the path.

“Yes,” Harry said, turning around to face them. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Seeing as how you two can’t seem to be in a room with each other without incident it’s a little surprising,” Tom said with a laugh. “Should we be monitoring Twitter for any videos of the two of you duking it out?”

“You all aren’t funny,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “I have no problem being civil. Penny’s the one who has the problem with me.”

Jeff and Tom exchanged knowing glances behind his back as they pressed forward. For a few minutes the only noises between them were the crunch of sticks and gravel and the occasional grunt of exertion as they approached a particularly steep part of the trail. Harry was the first to break the silence.

“So, what’s the deal with Penny anyways?” he asked, keeping his eyes facing front.

“I mean she’s a journalist. She was with Variety before The Moment, but you already know all of that,” Tom said.

“Yeah, but like you’ve known her longer than that, right?” Harry asked, fishing for more information.

“Mmmhmm,” Tom said. “We lived in the same neighborhood growing up. I was honestly closer to her brother than her – we were the same year in school – but I was over at their house all the time. Penny used to write these little newsletters each week that she’d hand out to everyone on the block.” He chuckled. “It was pretty intense for an 11-year-old but she did the whole thing herself – she’d write reviews, op-eds, updates on neighborhood news. One time she reported on a feud between two houses on the block. It was clear she was meant to be a journalist.”

“You never mentioned you knew her,” Harry said.  

“I kind of forgot about her to be frank,” Tom said. “You know how it is…you leave home and suddenly 99% of your acquaintances and connections growing up just become people your mom updates you on during a phone call. ‘Mrs. Sanders sent over Penny’s senior portrait! She’s going to NYU!’ You know, that sort of thing.” He paused. “Reconnecting was actually a coincidence. My mom happened to send me one of her articles and then the next day I spotted her in the campus courtyard. I had no clue she was working around us, but it was great to see her.” He looked at Harry. “Why are you so interested?”

Harry gave an indifferent shrug. “Just making conversation.”

“I think Harry has a little crush,” Jeff said, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“I do not have a crush, Jeffrey!” Harry said, face turning red.

“Why are you so fixated on her then? NME, The Guardian, and Spin all gave you less than stellar reviews and you’re not hunting them down.”

“Would now be a good time to mention that Penny is single – according to my mom at least,” Tom chimed in.

“I hate you both,” Harry said, quickening his pace and leaving his companions in the dust.

He reached the top of the trail first and sat on a log, sipping the coffee Jeff had bought him, until Tom and Jeff caught up, sweaty and breathing heavily.

“I don’t have a ‘crush,’” Harry said without preamble, internally cringing at how juvenile the statement sounded. “I just…” He absentmindedly scratched behind his ear.

“Have a pathological need to have everyone like you?” Jeff finished with a smirk.

“Sure, let’s go with that.” Harry wasn’t sure that that was entirely the truth, but in the moment, it felt like the path of least resistance.

“I know we’ve already covered this, but Penny’s actually really wonderful,” Tom said, as they took in the view, sipping their beverages. “She’s smart and funny as hell. She’s just had to deal with a lot of shit which is where the prickly exterior comes from. I think if you gave her a chance, you all would actually hit it off. And again, she’s single.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’d never stand a chance with her. She’d eat me alive.”

***

It had been a busy few weeks for Penny. She was filing stories daily, attending concerts upwards of four times a week, and had even had a couple of interviews scheduled, filling her days trailing musicians around LA to gather enough information to formulate a profile that would generate enough clicks for the website. Aside from Chloe, who she saw daily in the office, and a few college friends who’d synced up business trips to have one night with her in Los Angeles, her social life had been nonexistent. It was much preferred to fall asleep to sitcom reruns than feign interest in someone else’s problems over post-work drinks.

All of that made the text from Tom she received all the more welcome.

While she had established her own circle of friends in the city, it was nice to finally have someone from back home with her, and despite years of silence between them, they’d fallen right back into the rhythm they’d had as kids in the neighborhood.

He’d been having a busy time as well, and suggested they meet up for dinner after work one night. Penny had quickly agreed, saying she’d walk across to Full Stop’s offices at the end of the day. Edits for her latest piece – an interview with the CMO of a new music marketing agency  – hadn’t come in, and she’d received no response from Darren when she’d messaged him about staying late to work through the piece. Figuring he’d left for the night, she plotted her own exit, texting Tom that she’d be there in twenty.

But as she crossed the campus, her phone had rang with the unpleasant chime of Slack, a sound she was sure would activate her fight-or-flight response until her last day on Earth. It was Darren, asking her to take a look at his edits.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she said to herself as she opened the door to Full Stop.

It was her first time in the building and she was surprised to see that it looked like any other office. An open floor plan with wood floors and bright white walls, pendant lights hanging from the ceiling. Groups of desks were scattered around the room, and in addition to some scattered couches and conference rooms, there was a kitchen with what appeared to be a fully stocked fridge and bar. And there didn’t appear to be a soul in sight. Penny pulled out her phone, ready to text Tom when he came through the door.

“Hey!” he said cheerily. “I was just about to text you. I have a last minute client call. Are you OK waiting for half an hour? You can help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”

“That works perfectly,” Penny said. “I actually just got some edits sent my way.”

“Great! Make yourself at home.”

Penny walked over to the table nearest the kitchen and put her bag down before raiding the fridge. She passed over the selection of beers and found herself a canned cocktail. She popped the tab and took a sip. It wasn’t great but it would do. She sat down at the table and opened the doc containing her story. She skimmed through Darren’s edits, shaking her head. Some of them were simple grammatical edits, but others were more complex suggestions that would require her to go back to the company’s publicist to set a follow-up call. Maybe they could do an email? She ran the charm on her necklace across the chain as she continued to read the notes. Darren’s edits would result in her rewriting significant sections, changing the angle of the piece. Thankfully, he’d given her until tomorrow afternoon to turn it around, but with nothing else to do, she figured there was no time like the present to get started.

She sent the email to the publicist and started making a list of all the things she’d need to do, and once that was complete, she began checking off the more minor changes. She was in the zone until the thunk of a bottle broke her concentration.

“Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world…” Harry said. “You know? From Casablanca?” he said as Penny stared at him blankly.

“I know. Your explanation isn’t needed.”

“Well, I thought it was since people usually pick up on it right away. My mistake.” He took a pull from his beer. “What are you working on?”

“A story.”

“Well, I figured that out.” He waited. “So you’re just going to ignore me?”

“I’m trying to work,” Penny said, looking up from her computer and taking a sip from her drink.

“Ah yes, you have someone’s hopes and dreams to crush. Who is it this week?”

“For the love of God will you please let that go?”

“No.”

“Well, I can’t wait for your next album. I’ll be sure to include details about how you act like a whiny manchild when someone has the audacity to offer a criticism instead of continuing to jerk you off like the entire industry has since 2010. I’m sure Twitter would love to learn more about how Mr. Treat People With Kindness has been verbally sparring with a female critic, in addition to following her around the city.”

“I think it’s the other way around,” Harry said. “You’re the one in my manager’s office.”

“Because my friend invited me! Why are you here?”

“Jeff and Tommy are supposed to go and get drinks with me and I told them I’d meet them here but they had –”

“A last minute client meeting?” Penny finished.

“Yeah. So I’m stuck waiting until it’s over.”

“Can’t you wait somewhere else?”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be as fun.”

“Why not?”

“Because you wouldn’t be there. And I can tell that having to deal with me really grinds your gears and it’s honestly kind of funny.”

Penny looked up from her computer. “Grinds my gears?”

Harry nodded. “It’s a saying.”

“I know,” Penny shot back. “I’m just confused as to why you’re saying it seeing as you’re not a senior citizen or a cartoon car in a Pixar film.”

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but quickly thought better of it, rolling his eyes as he took another sip of his drink. Penny turned her attention back to her computer but was distracted when Harry pulled up a chair next to her.

“Can I help you?” she asked as he leaned over her shoulder.

“So you’re not writing a review?” he asked.

“No, it’s a business story.”

“Hmm.”

Penny sighed. “It’s fine if you sit here, but I’m seriously going to need you to leave me alone. I really do need to get some work done.”

“Fine then.” Harry scooted his chair over a few inches and pulled out his phone, tapping on the screen in silence.

Penny didn’t know how much time had passed, but by the time she’d scheduled tomorrow’s follow-up, Tom, Tommy, Jeff, and someone she hadn’t seen before all emerged from a conference room laughing.

“Well, I guess that means we’re free now,” Harry said, standing up as Penny closed her laptop.

“Yeah, I’ll see you later,” she muttered before turning her attention to Tom. “Are you ready?” she asked.

“Yep, just need a second,” he replied. “And actually, we were all talking…would you be up for joining those guys for dinner?” He pointed to Harry and the other managers. “We were all talking and since we were all heading out we thought we could do a group thing.”

Based on the way Harry was staring at her from across the room, Penny was pretty certain that he’d received the same news. “Um…” she hesitated.

“You won’t have to sit next to him, I promise,” Tom said quickly, sensing the fear that was holding her back. “But I understand if you’d want to reschedule.”

“No, it’s fine,” Penny said. “I know Harry’s going to be pretty ticked that I’m going so that will make it a little fun.”

Tom grimaced. “I’m so glad you all are getting along?”

“Something like that, right?” Penny said with a grin.

Tom gave her the name of the restaurant and once she’d punched the address into her GPS, she was on her way over. When she pulled into the valet line in front of the building, Harry was already standing there, head bowed over his phone. He cut his eyes to her as she approached him but said nothing. Silence is better than antagonism, I guess, Penny thought to herself. Soon, Tom, Jeff, and Tommy rolled up, and the hostess led them to a table in the back of the dimly lit restaurant.

Harry remained silent as they shuffled along, but Penny didn’t miss the way heads turned as they walked by, eyes piling onto the group, causing Harry to look down at the ground, brows knit tightly together. Penny could see some of the tension melt away once they were ensconced in the secluded booth, but she also didn’t miss how the other men let Harry shuffle in first before piling in after him, almost as if they were trying to shield him from the prying eyes. As much as she disliked Harry, she felt for him. To have constant attention from strangers on you…she didn’t know how he hadn’t crumbled under the pressure yet.

“Thank you,” she said as the waiter filled her water glass and handed her a menu. She skimmed the text, quickly deciding what she wanted to eat and turning her attention back to the group. Jeff and Tommy were laughing, passing a phone back and forth in front of Harry, who paid attention, but said nothing.

“How was your day?” Tom asked, breaking her moment of observation.

“Busy,” Penny said, taking a sip of water. “I finished up some calls for a story and then had to finish writing the story, and then in the background I’m trying to put together a pitch for something I want to write in a couple of months.”

“Oh, is this the TikTok story?”

“No.” Penny was still sensitive about Darren’s reaction to the piece, but tried not to give it away. “That was DOA when it got to my editor’s desk. This is something different.”

“That’s a shame,” Tom said. “We were actually just talking about this the other day and how we have no clue about TikTok. Like do we need to get our existing clients on there? What should they be doing? Should we be looking for new clients there? Would have been nice to read something about that.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Penny said with a short laugh.

“But tell me about this other piece.”

“I really want to profile the women of BLACKPINK.”

“Damn,” Tom said. “That would be good.”

“I know, right? They’re coming to LA in a few months and I really want to sit down with them while they’re here. So I need to make sure the pitch is rock solid.”

“I have faith in you, Penny,” Tom said, raising his glass in solidarity.

Their waiter returned and each person took their turn ordering and once the menus were collected Jeff turned his attention to the whole group.

“So, I think we need an icebreaker of sorts,” he said, drumming his fingers against the table.

“Yes,” Tommy chimed in. “And we have the perfect one.”

“Why do we need to play a game?” Harry griped from across the table. “We all know each other.”

“I mean I don’t know Penny that well,” Tommy said.

“Well then maybe she shouldn’t be here,” Harry shot back. “She did crash our dinner after all.”

Penny was done with him. “Tom, I thought you said I wouldn’t have to talk to him,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Well aren’t you a ray of sunshine,” Harry mumbled.

“You know, a game sounds fun!” Tom interjected trying to keep the peace. “Why don’t you tell us the rules, Tommy.”

Tommy hesitated, like he wasn’t sure he should step in the line of fire. “Um, yeah. So it’s called ‘Best Of’ and it’s really simple. Someone says an album, and on the count of three everyone has to name their favorite song off of it.” He looked around tentatively. “I thought since we all like music that could be fun.”

Penny nodded. “It does sound fun. Who’s going first?”

“Why don’t you?” Jeff suggested, earning an eye roll from Harry.

“OK…,” Penny said thinking. There had to be some strategy to her pick. Something that wouldn’t make the men around her roll their eyes, but also something that said she was fun. Nothing too basic, but nothing to obscure either. “‘Led Zeppelin III,’” she said after a moment.

“Nice,” Tommy said. “Now think of a song in three, two, one…”

“Immigrant Song!”

“Celebration Day!”

“Tangerine!”

“Since I’ve Been Loving You!”

Their answers overlapped and they all grinned at each other’s choices.

“I wouldn’t have expected ‘Immigrant Song,’ from you, Penny,” Tommy said.

“No joke, it was one of my favorite songs as a kid. My dad is a pretty big Zeppelin fan and we used to listen to them in the car and I would ask to hear that song every day on the way to preschool.”

“Were you the coolest toddler there?” Jeff laughed.

“1000%.”

“H, do you want to add yours?” Jeff prompted.

“No, I’m good,” Harry said tersely.

“OK, then, while Harry pouts, would you like to toss out an album, Tommy?” Jeff asked.

“I’d love to Jeffrey,” Tommy said.

Penny tried to hide her smile, secretly pleased that she wasn’t the only one Harry copped an attitude with.

“Britney Spears, ‘In the Zone,’” Tommy finally said. “Three, two, one.”

“Me Against the Music!”

“Outrageous!”

“Toxic!”

Penny locked eyes with Harry across the table, shocked that they’d both named ‘Toxic.’

“Well, I guess I have to give you some credit,” she said, trying to thaw the ice between them. “That’s a great song.”

“It’s the only correct answer,” Harry said. “Not much to celebrate.”

“Well forgive me for trying,” Penny said. “Tom? Why don’t you take a turn.”

Tom named an album from the Stones and Jeff named a Chris Stapleton album and then it was Harry’s turn.

“Desperado,” he mumbled. “Go,” he added, not bothering to count down.

It was one of her favorites and she didn’t hesitate when she shouted out her answer. “Certain Kind Of Fool.”

She knew it wasn’t the lead single or one of the hits but she could remember exactly where she was when she first heard the song and it had touched her in that peculiar way that good music often does. You can’t explain how or why it makes you feel that way, the feeling is just there.

What did give her pause was that once again, Harry had the same exact answer as her. It hadn’t been surprising in the Britney round – anyone who didn’t pick Toxic had seriously questionable taste – but this was different. Did it mean something that Harry had also picked her special song?

“Wow, bold choice,” Tom said, Jeff and Tommy echoing his sentiment. They’d all said the title track instead. “Great minds must think alike, you two,” Tom laughed.

“Yeah,” Penny laughed. “Something like that.” Harry hadn’t said anything but he was staring at her, his lips twisted in an unreadable expression. She was about to say something else, but was thankfully interrupted by the arrival of everyone’s meals.

The game petered out as they dug into their plates, and the conversation steered more towards jobs and the industry. Penny figured the men would steer clear of talking business, not wanting the journalist in their midst to hear any trade secrets, but they spoke freely, intermixing stories and questions about work with personal anecdotes. Tommy and Jeff tossed questions Penny’s way, asking about where she lived, future plans, and favorite spots in LA. Harry was predictably silent.

It was clear he was still tuned into the conversation as his eyes darted between whoever was speaking, but he rarely smiled over the course of the meal and whenever Penny spoke he looked at her with an intensity that made her feel uncomfortable. It wasn’t anger or hatred or disgust or any of the emotions he typically displayed when he was in her presence, but the neutrally blank stare was still jarring.  

He maintained this until the topic of conversation switched to Penny’s reporting.

“Penny’s trying to do a BLACKPINK profile in the next couple of months,” Tom said.

“Oh?” Jeff said. “That would be a huge get. Have you made any headway with their team?”

“Not yet,” Penny said. “It’s this delicate dance of needing to make sure my editor is on board before reaching out to the client so I don’t make promises I can’t keep, but I also need a pretty solid confirmation on the talent side to get my editor to say yes. It’s a vicious cycle and it’s made even harder by the fact that we’re not one of the major trades so sometimes people aren’t as willing to take a chance with us. Everyone wants the cover of Rolling Stone, not the front page of a newish website.”

“I get that,” Jeff said, nodding. “If you need help setting up the connection with their team, just give a shout. Between the three of us we might be able to help out some. Set the wheels in motion.”

“Thank you,” Penny replied, trying to mask her surprise and act like this was an everyday occurrence. “I’ll touch base with you all in the coming weeks.”

Jeff nodded as Harry opened his mouth for the first time since the game ended. “You don’t write profiles,” he said, brows crinkled in a way that Penny might have found endearing had it not been for his antagonistic personality.

“I mean not yet,” Penny said. “It’s something I’ve always wanted to work my way up to though,” she added feeling slightly defensive.

“So your editors are now letting you do this?” Harry prodded.  

“I mean, sort of,” Penny shifted in her seat, feeling her skin grow clammy with sweat. “They haven’t given me one yet, but I’m trying to be proactive. Work on profiles in addition to the other business reporting and reviews.”

“You’ve never done this, but you’re going to aim that high to start?”

“You’ve got to start somewhere and I can’t help it if my editors have given those assignments to someone else instead of me.”

“Well, did you ever think maybe they don’t give you those stories because you’re not good enough.”

With his statement, it felt like all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Jeff, Tom, and Tommy, all looked at each other, first visibly recoiling from the harshness of Harry's words, then seemingly waiting for the explosion from Penny that was sure to follow the snide remark.

“I actually do think that on a daily basis, so as much as you think that might hurt me, it doesn’t,” Penny said. There was a certain vulnerability in admitting that, but it made her feel powerful. If she owned it, he couldn’t use it against her. She checked the time on her phone. “I should actually start heading out.” Her companions were silent as she gathered her things.

“Let me know how much I owe you and I’ll send something over on Venmo,” she said to Tom, who just nodded with a sad smile on his face.

“Goodnight guys, thanks for letting me crash,” Penny said to the rest of the table. She headed towards the door to collect her car from the valet.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, H?” Jeff said when he was sure Penny had left the restaurant.

Harry shrugged. “Dunno.”

“You’re being such an asshole. Did something happen between you all? At Tom’s party?”

Harry knew exactly what was wrong with him, but he’d never admit it out loud. Not even to his closest friends and confidants. “It’s just stress, I’ve told you before,” he deflected.

“Well go to a spa, take another hike, get laid, I don’t care,” Jeff said. “But this attitude needs to go.”

Harry knew Jeff meant well but his words felt like a slap in the face and he hated how accurate they were. He wasn’t himself and it didn’t feel good to know that his friends were also feeling the brunt of his anger and frustration.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled. “I’m just going to go,” he said quietly as he walked towards the exit.

“Am I the only one who thinks those two need to fuck?” Tommy asked, when Harry was out of earshot.

“No,” Jeff and Tom replied in unison.

***

Penny was still waiting for the valet to return her car when Harry ambled up beside her. Catching a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eyes, she swiped at her eyes, trying to get rid of any evidence of tears. When Harry reached her, he stood next to her in silence.

“Here,” he said after a moment, offering Penny what appeared to be a napkin from the dinner table. “It’s probably better than your hand.”

“I don’t need it,” Penny said. Realistically, she did need it as her eyes were still wet and she knew her nose would start to drip momentarily, but she didn’t want to accept anything from Harry.

“Just take it,” he said. “You need it.”

“Oh gee, thanks. What a compliment.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to help.”

“Is this like some fetish you have? Treat me like shit and then swoop in with some chivalrous act to seduce me? Because I’ve got news for you pal, it’s not working.”

“Why are you so fixated on me picking you up? First at Tom’s party, now here? I hate to break it to you but I’m not into you like that.”

Penny looked him in the eye for the first time since he’d stood next to her. “What did I do to you?” she asked. “I get that you’re mad about the review and you’re entitled to feel that way, but why do you keep having to come after me? Just leave me be and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Until I release my next album.”

“Well you may have bullied me out of my job by that point so you’ll have nothing to worry about,” Penny said as the valet finally arrived with her car. “Have a good night.”

Harry stood there, stunned as Penny slid into the driver’s seat and pulled out of the parking lot. Sure, he was frustrated with her and he knew exactly why.

His heart had started pounding, when he saw her in the office that night. He hadn’t seen or heard from her since her post-concert email, but his day brightened the second he saw her sitting there, only to dim when she’d been so cold. If she hated him, two could certainly play that game.

But even with his disappointment, he didn’t think he could bear knowing that he was responsible for her feeling like this. He wasn’t sure if their paths would cross again, but if they did, and he kind of hoped they would, he would try to be better.

***

“So I’ve got some bad news,” Tom said to Penny a few weeks later.

She knew something was up. No one ever called their friends on a weekday afternoon with good news.

“Lay it on me Skogs.”

“I can’t go to the concert tonight.”

“What?” Penny was genuinely disappointed. She’d been looking forward to seeing Hayley Williams with Tom, a tribute to their teenage obsession with Paramore.

“Yeah, I have a late night here at work and I’m not feeling super great either so…”

“I understand,” Penny said sympathetically. “I’m just really bummed out.”

“I knew you would be,” Tom said.

“Do you know of anyone who wants your ticket?” Penny asked, already combing her brain to find a last-minute replacement she could drag to the show in Tom’s place.

“About that,” Tom said. “I have someone who is interested.”

“Who?”

“Harry.”

Fuck, Penny mouthed, thinking her thought was silent until she heard Tom chuckle and say “Don’t sound so excited.”

“Tom, it would be one thing if it was general admission. We wouldn’t have to interact. But I’m going to have to sit next to him. For two hours.”

“So don’t talk to him! I’ll give him the ticket. You all arrive separately, get there right before it starts, the lights go down, you don’t have to interact. Easy!”

“But he’s going to be right there and that’s just…”

“Penny, he really wants to go so I think he’ll be on his best behavior tonight.”

“You always say that and then I end up crying.”

Tom sighed. “If you’d really be that upset, I’ll tell him the ticket is claimed.”

Penny considered her options. Maybe she could get some sort of payback if he was forced to be with her. “It’s fine. He can have it.”

“Thank you, Penny. Are you OK if I give him your number? In case he needs to find you or something?”

“Uhh…sure.” Penny wasn’t thrilled about Harry having another way to harass her, but figured that he probably wouldn’t go out of his way to irritate her.

“Great, I’ll text him now.” Tom paused. “And I’ll buy you a drink or dinner or something for this.”

“Get ready, Tom, I have expensive taste.”

She ended the call, the sound of him laughing still echoing in her ears, when Chloe’s eyes found hers from over the barrier across their desks.

“Did Tom cancel? If so, I’ll buy the ticket off of him.” Chloe, though not a huge music fan, was always happy to be Penny’s plus one to a show if she needed it.

“He did,” Penny said. “But unfortunately it’s been claimed. By Harry.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s not so bad,” Chloe said, shrugging.

“Not so bad? We’ve never had a conversation that ended on a pleasant note.”

“What about after the Okkervil River show? When he waited with you? And you even sent him a thank you note.”

“That was…different. I think he might have been ill. Or suffering from recent head trauma.”

“Sure.” Chloe smirked as she sank back in her seat.

“What does that mean?” Penny said, scoffing with disbelief.

“It means I think there might be something between you all.”

“Mutual hatred?”

“That’s turning into loooooovvvveee.” Chloe extended the last word as she swirled around in her desk chair.

“Maybe I was wrong,” Penny said, causing Chloe to perk up. “Maybe you’re that one that’s ill or suffering from head trauma.”

Chloe deflated. “I’m just saying he seems interested.”

“In making my life a living hell.”

“It’s the old playground thing. He doesn’t know how to say he likes you so he just picks on you.”

“I thought we were trying to eliminate that mentality from children. That’s not the foundation of a healthy relationship.”

“Lecturing me on relationships? Oh, that’s rich,” Chloe said laughing. “How long has this dry spell been?” Penny opened her mouth to respond but Chloe beat her to it. “Fourteen months?”

Penny had to hand it to her. She did have a point.

Penny had dated throughout high school and college and had had several serious boyfriends, but no one long term since she’d moved to Los Angeles and started work. Her longest relationship since then had been with the vibrator in her bedside drawer. All of the dates she went on were the same and they all exhausted her.

It was always a case of an aspiring musician seeing that she worked as a journalist, resulting in a date that was more of a networking event, with the guy either trying to pawn his demo off on her or spending about three hours mansplaining something about music. On the rare occasion a date did lead to sex, she’d find that her partner more often than not oversold his abilities in the bedroom, leaving Penny tired, unsatisfied, and a little sad.

“I’m doing just fine, thank you,” Penny said.

“It doesn’t have to be anything serious,” Chloe said, a little more gently. “You can use him for what you want and move on.”

“But that’s the thing. I don’t like him,” Penny said. “End of story.”

“Penny, can we chat in my office,” Darren called from across the newsroom.

“Fuck,” she huffed.

“Suddenly Harry doesn’t seem so bad does he?” Chloe said, with a knowing grin.

“No comment,” Penny shot back as she picked up her phone and laptop and headed into Darren’s office.

“Should I close the door?” she asked.

“Sure,” Darren said. “I wanted to talk to you about your pitch,” he said when she’d sat down on the chair across from him.

“Oh?” Penny tried not to sound, or feel, too hopeful. She’d submitted her pitch for a potential BLACKPINK profile soon after her dinner with Tom and the rest of the Full Stop team. Jeff had kept his word and put her in touch with the group's publicist, who was receptive to the idea of a profile.

“We’re going to pass,” Darren said, cutting right to the chase.

Penny felt disappointment wash over her. “Oh. Was there any particular reason?”

“The pitch needed some work. I couldn’t see what the point of it was. On any other story, it’s fine to try it out if the pitch isn’t all the way there, but with a profile with a major star, if we end up having to cut it if it’s in bad shape, that burns a bridge with talent and we can’t have that.”

Penny desperately wanted to point out that not publishing any story where a source sat for an interview burned a bridge – who wanted to waste time talking to a reporter who never followed through on their promises? – but felt like this might not be the time.

“Do you have any notes on how I could improve?” she asked instead.

“Eh,” Darren said, popping a stick of gum into his mouth. “Just try again, you’ll figure it out eventually.

Penny, once again, bit back her inner commentary. As her editor, it was Darren’s job to provide her with guidance on how she could become better, but “you’ll figure it out” was his standard response, which led to little improvement on Penny’s side.

“Got it,” she said, nodding. “Do you know who’s getting the profile?”

“Chris pitched one on John Mayer so we’re going with that.”

“Oh nice.” It was anything but nice. Chris was a recent hire who’d not done much to prove himself and the fact that he had been granted this privilege infuriated her. “Do you want to chat about anything else?”

“Not really,” Darren said. “We’re coming up on earnings season, so just be ready to write up those earnings reports. Maybe think of a couple of quick hits we could do based on results. Get on the phone with some analysts. Same as you usually do.”

Same as she usually did. That was the problem. She wanted to challenge herself, try new things, grow as a professional, but any time she made an attempt to do so fate, or more realistically Darren, pushed her down again.

“Great,” she said, plastering a smile that could have been mistaken for a grimace. “I’ll get started.”

“Thanks, Penny,” Darren said, glancing at her before quickly looking back at his computer screen.

When she returned to her desk, Chloe was stationed in one of the call booths, likely on a source call, phone wedged between her ear and shoulder as she typed furiously. Penny pulled open her web browser, glancing at her email, before pulling up the earnings calendar to start working on some story ideas. After a few minutes, she pulled up the major trades, as she did every day, and scoured their homepages for any breaking news. Rolling Stone had nothing new, but Billboard had just published a new feature: a piece on the rise of TikTok in the music industry.

This wasn’t the first time she’d been scooped by another publication, but it didn’t hurt any less. She sighed and stood up to make a cup of coffee in the breakroom.

***

“See you tomorrow,” Penny called to Chloe and the remaining staffers as she pushed her chair in and walked to the exit.

“Have fun,” Chloe said with an exaggerated wink. “Make good choices!”

Penny climbed into her car and plugged in her phone, pulling up a Top 40 playlist that she figured would make her bad mood dissipate. She should be more excited at this point. She’d been wanting to see Hayley Williams forever and wasn’t going to let Darren, her job, or Harry ruin that for her. She easily found parking in a nearby garage and walked into the venue, grabbing a drink for herself before finding her seat.

To her surprise Harry was already sitting there.

“Hi,” he said, standing up to let her into the seat next to him.

“Hi,” Penny said, tentatively, trying to read the situation. What kind of mood was he in? He didn’t seem as surly as he had been at dinner, but he didn’t appear overly outgoing either. “How are you?” she asked.

“Good.” Harry said, looking at her. “Uh, how are you?” he asked back after a moment, almost as if he realized returning the question was polite.

“Good,” Penny said.

She looked out in front of her. They were seated in the lower bowl of the arena and they watched the general admission section fill up in silence for a moment.

“I never apologized for dinner,” Harry said after a moment. “So...sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it isn’t. I should know better.”

“Oh, well, thanks.” Penny sipped her drink. “I have to admit I was surprised when Tom said you wanted to come.”

“Oh?” Harry turned toward her. He was wearing a denim cap and his wispy curls poked out from underneath it. There was a divot between his well-groomed brows as he looked at her questioningly.

“Yeah,” Penny said. “First, I was just surprised that you’d want to be in the same room as me and then I just didn’t think you were a Hayley fan.”

“Judging my music taste?” Harry said, a small grin on his face.

“No, not necessarily. It’s just clear you’re a fan of the classics and I didn’t think pop punk would be anywhere near your radar.”

“Well, I’m a man of multitudes.”

“Clearly.”

Harry snickered and Penny smiled, a real genuine smile for the first time that day.

“Tom said you all have seen her a couple of times?” Harry prompted, keeping the conversation flowing steadily.

“I went to a few Paramore shows with him and my brother – they’re the ones that introduced me to their music – and continued going even after I moved away.”

“That’s nice,” Harry said. “It’s always fun to have comfort artists like that.”

“It is,” Penny said. There was another beat of silence, before Penny changed topics. “Uh…how was your day?”

“It was fine,” Harry said, a little caught off guard.

“I don’t mean to be nosy, but I’m always just so curious as to how musicians fill their time when they’re not touring. Like clearly some people like to be in the studio at all times, but then others are less structured. I think it’s so interesting because you hear how people work, but there’s no clear formula as to how to make a good record. You know? Like some good ones were churned out and others have to marinate…sorry I’m rambling now.”

Harry chuckled. “You’re good. I do have a lot of time to fill when I’m not working.” He plucked his lip thoughtfully. “I took a walk today, did a little bit of writing. I had a call with the team about some…stuff…ate breakfast, ate lunch, picked up a new book at the bookstore.” He shrugged. “Nothing too exciting.”

“It’s interesting,” Penny said. She really wanted to ask him about his new album. Ever since her conversation with Tom in the parking garage weeks ago. She’d been keeping a lookout for any announcements about the forthcoming record. Breaking news like that would be huge, and while she had a firm stance on not mixing personal relationships with business, Harry was nothing to her. If he told her and she happened to let the news slip to Darren…what was the harm in that?

“I’m probably going to be heading into the studio some more,” Harry continued. “I have to start finalizing everything.”

“Oh, cool. Are you aiming for a release this year?”

Harry shrugged. “That’s the plan.”

The lights started to dim as the opener came on stage, effectively ending their conversation. When the set was over, Harry rose from his seat.

“Do you want another drink?” he asked.

“Uh, sure. Just a bottle of water.” Penny said.

Harry nodded, and a few minutes later, he was back at her side, two bottles of water in hand, just as the intro to the main show began.

“Thanks,” Penny said, leaning into him so he could hear over the thundering base.

“No problem,” Harry said, straining to be heard over the noise.

When Hayley Williams took the stage, Penny was transfixed and lost track of the fact that it was Harry beside her. She bopped along to the music and sang along, cheering especially loudly when the opening notes of her favorite song began. Realizing she wasn’t alone, she looked over at Harry to shoot him an apologetic glance, but found him grinning at her enthusiasm. The show was over far too quickly for Penny’s lighting and when the lights came up, she was sad at the prospect of having to head home.

“Well, that was fun,” she said, turning to Harry. “Thanks for hanging out.”

“Yeah, this was great.”

“I’m trying to decide if I should just wait here for things to empty out or if I should go now. I guess there’s going to be traffic either way.

“Want to grab a drink?” Harry asked.

He looked calm and collected but Penny could feel the nervous energy radiating off of him as he chewed at his lip and picked the skin around his cuticles.

“Uh…” she hesitated.

“I’ve been on my best behavior and that will continue. I promise I won’t antagonize you,” he said, still picking at his fingers.

“I’m not falling for this again,” Penny said with a bitter laugh. “We’ve pressed our luck enough tonight.”

“I’m serious.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because this is me trying to be a better person,” Harry said. There was a forlorn note to his voice, almost as if he was scared to admit this to her. “I’m sorry, like actually truly sorry, and I just want to show you.”

Penny considered his offer. He did sound sincere and genuine. “One drink,” she said. “And I pick the bar.”

“Deal.” Harry said. “Name the place and I’ll meet you there.”

Penny named a quaint beer garden a few blocks away and Harry added the address to his Maps app, waving farewell as they parted to head to their respective cars. He trailed Penny for most of the drive and pulled into a spot next to hers, locking his car with a beep.

“This place is quiet,” he said, looking at the half empty parking lot.

“That’s why I like it. It’s great for source meetings, dates, all sorts of things.”

“Do you go on a lot of those?”

“Source calls?”

“No, dates,” Harry said, as if his question had been obvious.

“Occasionally. What about you?”

“Occasionally.”

“OK then,” Penny said, stepping through the door as Harry opened it for her.

They found a secluded table, and Harry offered to get some drinks from the bar: neat tequila for him and a vodka tonic for Penny. He was back a few moments later, drinks in hand.

“Cheers,” he said, tapping his glass against Penny’s before taking a sip.

“Cheers,” she replied.

“So why journalism?”

“Oh, wow, you are really jumping into things here,” Penny said with a nervous laugh.

“It’s just something that I’ve been thinking about.”

“You’ve been thinking about me?” Penny looked at Harry with suspicion. “Why?”

“No, shit. I haven’t been thinking about you. Well, not in that way. But like, I’ve been going back and reading some of your stuff.”

“Why? Are you going to give me some more…notes?”

“God no. I just wanted to see what else you’ve worked on and it’s interesting. And I just…” he trailed off looking into space. “Just wanted to know how you ended up here.”

“Oh, um. I don’t think it’s that interesting.”

“Try me.”

“I’ve always liked writing,” Penny began. “But I was never any good at making things up. You know like characters and settings, but when you had all of the players in place and I just had to come up with the facts and occasionally my opinions…I loved that. And I was also nosy, so that was the perfect storm.”

“Was?”

“I mean, I still am, but I don’t want to be an investigative reporter anymore. Sniffing out the drama of my neighborhood was fun when I was ten, but I don’t really want to sniff out corruption in the entertainment industry.”

“You’d stay busy.”

“Yeah,” Penny said slowly. “Not sure I’d last long doing that. But talking about music…that I could do forever.”

“Why music?” Harry pressed. His eyebrows did that wrinkly thing again, like he was concentrating really hard. “You could have picked anything.”

“I just always liked it,” Penny said. She’d honestly never thought this much about why she picked her chosen field. “My dad is big into music. Not professionally or anything. He likes to play guitar and just has a massive collection of vinyls and CDs. He would always play stuff for us and tell us about the history behind it.”

“Zeppelin on the way to preschool,” Harry said with a grin.

“You remembered,” Penny said with a laugh.

“Paints a funny picture.”

“When I was like five, maybe six, I told my dad I didn’t like rock music anymore because there were no girls and for the next two weeks our morning music was all the ladies of rock. Stevie, Joan, Bonnie, Heart. He always made sure I had what I needed to hear.”

“That’s nice,” Harry said.

“It was. I –” Penny stopped herself, unsure if she should continue. “School was sometimes hard for me. I was really into more creative stuff but we lived in a big sports town so there weren’t a lot of opportunities to…connect with people who had similar interests. But my dad was always the person I knew I could talk to about music. And he encouraged me to follow my passions. He would always tell me that one day I’d end up with a bunch of friends that I could talk music with and now I do.”

“You do,” Harry said softly.

“I do.” Penny cleared her throat, unsure of where this sudden surge of emotion came from. “What about you? How’d you end up here? Well, I know that, but what sparked your interest in music?”

“Oh, you don’t want to hear about my journey to stardom on The X-Factor?” Harry deadpanned.

Penny snickered. “I think I’ve heard that story once, or twice.”

“Or ten times?” Harry shook his head. “It was a similar thing. My parents really led me to it. I listened to music a lot with them. Started performing in school pageants. Had a band with friends. I just realized I liked it and my mom really encouraged me to get out there.”

“It’s funny how parents really do know what’s best for you.”

“Shh, we can’t let them know that,” Harry said with a conspiratorial giggle. “Is it hard?” Harry asked, suddenly changing course. “Doing your job? Writing?”

“For me, the writing itself is the fun part. When I’ve finished my interviews and have a blank page in front of me and piece it all together…nothing matches that feeling. The hard part is what comes after. Editing, reader comments…but I’m sure you get that.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Harry deadpanned.

Penny rolled her eyes. “OK, funny guy. What about you? Do you like the writing process?”

“Hey hey hey I’m not done asking the questions!”

“My mistake, I didn’t realize this was an interview.”

Harry grinned. “Watch out, I’m coming for your job.”

“Ha!” Penny barked a laugh. “That’s cute but you wouldn’t last one week in a newsroom.”

“Why not?”

“You’ve been fixated on one shitty review for two years. Working in the newsroom, with my editor specifically, is like getting a bad review every single day. You wouldn’t be able to handle that much criticism. Your head would explode.”

“Are you familiar with Twitter?”

Penny snorted. “OK, I’ll give you that.” She eyed him from across the table. “The point is journalism’s not easy. Everyone seems to think they can do it, but few actually can.”

“And you’re one of the few?”

“I’d like to think I am.” Harry nodded, eyes locked on Penny. She felt her face grow hot under his gaze, not from anger, but from something else. “What?” She asked with a breathless laugh after a moment. “Was it something I said?”

“No.” Harry shook his head. “No, I just…nevermind.”

“OK…”

“I should be heading home,” Harry said abruptly. “Early morning and everything.”

He said it as if he’d already mentioned it but Penny had no recollection of it in their conversations and was caught off guard by the suddenness of it.

“Oh, yeah I guess I should head out too.” She fished around in her bag for her wallet

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry said, gently grabbing her wrist. “It’s on me. No arguing.”

“Well, I’ll have to get the next one.” Penny didn’t know why she said that. There was no indication that there would be a next time, as she was pretty sure Harry still hated her. But throughout the evening, she’d felt her own animosity towards him cool.

“Next one?”

“I didn’t mean anything by —” Penny stammered.

“Name the time and place and I’ll be there,” Harry said, cutting her off.

“Oh, um, yeah I’ll look at my calendar.”

When their bill was sured up, they left the bar, Harry trailing behind Penny before opening the door and motioning her through ahead of him. Penny didn’t know what else to say and instead focused her attention on finding her keys and unlocking her car.

“So, I guess just let me know if you want to do this again sometime. It was fun,” Harry said, cursing himself for repeating exactly what they’d just said inside.

“Yeah, I’ll definitely let you know.”

“And, again, I’m sorry about everything.”

“Apology accepted.” Penny meant it this time,

“Right, well, get home safe,” Harry said, clearing his throat.

“You too.”

Harry nodded as Penny slid in behind the wheel placing her bag on the passenger seat and her key in the ignition. Harry remained outside his car, watching her. She turned the key and eased out of the parking space, offering Harry a gentle wave before turning out of the lot.

Harry leaned against his car, his gaze not moving from Penny’s vehicle as it drove off. When he couldn’t see it anymore he sighed, then pulled his cap off and ran his hand through his hair. He didn’t know what came over him in there. They’d been having a decent time — or so he thought — and he’d had to go and ruin it. He hadn’t missed the look of hurt that briefly flashed through Penny’s eyes when he said he needed to get home, which was an utterly stupid thing for him to say. What was he going to do at home? Sit in front of the TV mindlessly watching whatever sitcom he could find? Lay in bed and pretend to sleep?

The one glimmer of hope was Penny’s parting words — “I’ll have to get the next one.” The promise of a “next one” left him strangely optimistic. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way but this night with her was the best he’d had in awhile. Until he fucked it up.

“Are you Harry Styles?”

The question pulled him back to the present. There were two women — maybe college age — looking at him expectantly, phones in hand.

“Yeah, I am,” he said.

“Can we get a picture?” the one asked.

“Sure.” They moved to stand on either side of Harry, smiling wide as he offered a thumbs up and a closed lipped grin in return.

“Thanks,” they said, heading back toward the bar. Harry knew it would be a matter of minutes before that picture hit Twitter or Instagram or wherever, which was probably his cue to leave.

He piled into his car and before he was able to turn the key, his phone pinged.

Made it home — surprisingly little traffic, the text from Penny read. Thanks again for the drink

Thanks again for the ticket, Harry replied as fast as his fingers could move.

Three dots appeared on the screen. Harry held his breath.

I meant what I said about that next time, Penny’s message read. If you’re free.

Harry’s heart pounded. He didn’t want to seem too eager, but he most definitely had time to see Penny again.

Let me check my schedule for the next few weeks, he wrote. I think I have a free night.

He waited a few more minutes but there were no more messages from Penny. A heaviness filled his chest, but he reminded himself that this was a start. He had a lot to make up for, but things were moving in the right direction.

***

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#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles ff #harry styles series #harry styles x ofc #harry fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles fan fic

[sege-h]

Absolutely horrid and entitled behavior from some people lately

Starting to believe it’s all Karens that cant harass as much retail workers as often as they did before the lockdown, so now they gotta act entitled to content creators online

#Personal #Sometimes I wish there was a button that you press when these people interact with you that electrocutes them #And other times I wish there was like a block button that like #You block them from your stuff forever #So when they go see your art their eyes block it out and they see a blank page #And they can never see the free art they so rudely demand again #This time I wish we had both buttons #Seriously with people that make comics especially ive been seeing that entitlement of #'WHEN are you gonna post a page TELL ME!!!' #And in tonights case these assholes went for the artist's close ones??? #And then cursed them out and sent hate mail when they were told they wouldnt be told anything??? #'Do u know why the page is being delayed' #Oh I dont know dude maybe aRTISTS NEED TIME FOR THEMSELVES BECAUSE THEYRE HUMAN IN GENERAL BUT ALSO THERES A WORLDWIDE PANDEMIC AND ITS V ST #STRESSFUL??? #OR DID U MISS ALL THAT??? #Plz lock these people in a room and force them to make like idk at least #5 fully done inked colored/shaded pages of a comic #With no music allowed only news about the pandemic #Maybe then they'll understand at least a little bit

[aperrywilliams]

Maxcer HC/Blurbs: Mike Davis

Another one for Maxcer HC/Blurbs/Mini-fics! I’m working on the requests that have been sent to me so far. This one is a little longer.

Request: “Blurb request: Max and Reid and they encounter one of her ex-boyfriends who is total opposite of Reid. Thx.”

Word Count: 1.5k.

Warnings: Spencer being insecure and with lack of confidence. Jealous Spencer.

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

After what happened with Cat Adams, the name “Mike Davis” didn’t come up again between Max and Spencer. Until it did, three months after that. They were in Max’s apartment eating pizza and watching a movie when in a scene, the characters started to talk about their past relationships. Max didn't bring the topic before because she knew about Maeve: after his release from the hospital, Max took care of Spencer for a couple of days, and one of those nights, he had a nightmare naming Maeve. Then he told her what happened. To say Max was shocked after hearing the story was an understatement. But Spencer didn't know much about Max's past boyfriends, so he asked. Max thought for a moment before answer.

“I haven't had many serious relationships in my life, but I guess the most important was Mike,” she said. Spencer narrowed his eyes, searching the name in his brain.

“Mike Davis?”

“Yeah. Well, I guess that's why I remembered his name when that psycho asked,” Max acknowledged.

“And why you both...?” Spencer wanted to know what happened, but he didn't want to invade Max’s privacy.

“Oh. You know, it wasn't easy. We lived together for five months, and in the beginning, things were like a honeymoon. We were so in love. For me, he was everything I wanted in a man. A lot of confidence, good-looking, connected to the art’s scene, charming. I know, an old-fashioned stereotype. But, things didn’t work in the end,” Max shrugged.

Spencer saw Max talking about Mike with some kind of nostalgia, so he knew the man was someone important in her life despite things didn't work out between them.

The days and weeks went by. Spencer and Max were feeling head over heels for each other. They spent a lot of time together, and both were more than okay with that. Everything was working so well that was unusual for Spencer. He wasn't used to be happy for more than a couple of weeks in a row. And now he was feeling like a teenager - the teenager phase he couldn't experience back then.

One night, after came back from a case, Spencer invited Max to dinner in a restaurant. They were having a good time after no seeing each other in five days. At some point, Spencer excused himself to go to the bathroom. When he returned, he saw Max talking with a man sat by their table. Spencer noticed two things studying the guy: he was obviously good-looking, and he was wildly smiling at Max. He approached the table and cleared his throat. Max and the man turned to see him.

“Hey,” Max greeted, smiling. The man looked at Spencer, frowning. Spencer did the same, taking his seat beside Max.

“I’m sorry if I took too much time,” Spencer apologized.

“No worries, baby. Well, let me introduce you. Mike, this is Spencer Reid, my boyfriend. Spencer, this is Mike Davis... we - we dated for a while,” Max said, not so sure about if it was the appropriate way to say that.

“C’mon, Max. ‘A while’? We lived together,” Mike corrected, extending his hand to Spencer. “Mike Davis,” he repeated. Spencer felt a heat rising in his body and a twist in his guts.

“Dr. Spencer Reid,” he introduced himself, extending his hand as well and shaking Mike’s.

“A doctor, uh?” Mike remarked. “Since when are you keen for the academia, Max? I thought you hated that,” Mike interjected casually. “This girl is a free spirit deep inside. She always complained about my unorganized lifestyle, but I know she loved it,” Mike teased.

“Mike, please. I don't think you know what you are talking about,” Max complained.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was joking. Please ignore me, doctor Reid,” Mike faked an apology.

Spencer could tell that the guy was an asshole, but he couldn't deny why girls feel attracted to him. A young man, good-looking, green eyes, with a charming smile. Long blond-haired. Toned pectorals behind his tight shirt. Casual clothes, according to his age and stature. And exuding a fucking huge confidence. The opposite to him: tall, lanky, with disveleshed hair, body barely toned. He always dressing in vests that make him look like a nerdy professor—and better not talking about his lack of confidence and constant insecurity. Yes, Spencer has improved on that, but Mike Davis was years ahead of him.

“Okay guys. I better go now. I don’t want to interrupt your dinner anymore. Was good to see you Max. Nice to meet you doctor Reid,” Mike said goodbye and left the place.

Max looked to Spencer searching for a reaction or comment. She knew Spencer profiled Mike for sure, but Spencer didn’t say anything. They finished their dinner in awkward silence.

“Are you okay?” Max asked after they paid the bill. Spencer nodded.

“Yes. I am,” he said.

No, he wasn’t. In his head the image of Mike Davis disturbing him. He was so different from him. The most annoying sentiment for Spencer was that Mike seemed a better match for Max than him. That only meant that his days of happiness were soon to end.

They left the restaurant and walked to Max’s apartment. When they arrived, Max knew something was off with Reid.

“Do you want to come up?” she asked. Spencer, with his hands tucked in his pockets, shook his head.

“No. I think I better get going home.”

“Oh. Okay,” Max wanted to ask him what was bothering him. She was clever enough to have a clue: Mike Davis. But she didn't know why Spencer was acting like that. Nothing extraordinary happened besides Mike being an asshole.

“Bye,” Spencer kissed Max’s cheek and turned to go home. At that moment, Max decided that she would not stay like that without knowing what was happening.

“Doctor Reid. Stop right there if you want to see me again.” Spencer stopped in his tracks and turned to see Max. “Now, you're going to tell me what’s wrong, and don’t tell me that nothing is wrong because you would be lying. I know I’m not a profiler, but I can tell.” Spencer gulped and approached her. Max folded her arms over her chest. Spencer sighed.

“Okay. It’s silly, I know, but I couldn’t stop thinking about if ours is... could be, in the future... I know! We said taking things slow, but... Why are you interested in me? I’m not even close to Mike Davis! And he is ‘all you wanted in a man’” Spencer quoted her words of months prior. Max’s eyes softened. In front of her, a nervous Spencer. Her heart ached knowing how confused he was. Spencer started fidgeting with his hands. Max took one of them in hers, trying to soothe him.

“I know. I look pathetic,” Spencer scoffed.

“None of that. Hey, listen to me. Please, Spencer, look at me,” Max asked. “It’s true what I said before: Mike ‘was’ all I wanted in a man. But time taught me that I wasn't going anywhere with that. Yeah. He said I’m a free spirit. Would you call free spirit someone that has her weeks and months all scheduled in a planner?” Spencer chuckled. “And I’m comfortable with that. Yes, I have my artistic side, but that was never a scene for me as it is for Mike. And I’m happy with that.” She cupped his cheek with one of her palms. “And I’m happy with you. You’re different from Mike, and thanks to God you are!” Spencer looked at Max mesmerized.

“You’re telling me that for not hurt my feelings,” Spencer mumbled, trying to sabotage himself.

“Look at me in the eyes. I’m lying to you?” Spencer did so and didn’t see any sign of deception.

“I like you a lot, Spencer. And I’m so eager to know you better and to share more of me with you. I don't need a Mike Davis when I have the chance to know and be with Spencer Reid. You’re my present Spencer. And I want all of my present time with you. And if the future comes and you don’t get sick of me, why not share the future?” Max’s voice was soft and Spencer could have melted in the spot. But before that, he cupped Max’s cheeks and leaned to kiss her. A sweet and deep kiss that Max reciprocated instantly. When they parted, both were smiling.

“That’s an appropriate kiss, you know?” Max teased. Spencer chuckled.

“I know. Thank you,” Spencer mumbled in her lips.

“Why?”

“For being honest with me. For being you. For coming to my life,” he leaned and kissed her again.

“I would say the same. Now, doctor Reid, are you really leaving me alone tonight? After no seeing us for five days?” Max asked, frowning. Spencer cleared his throat.

“Of course not. When did I say that?” he faked ignorance. Max laughed.

“That’s what I thought. Come on genius; we have a lot to catch up.” Max said, winking at him and grabbing Spencer’s arm. They both walked inside the building, hand in hand.

Now, Mike Davis was definitely in the past for both of them.

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

Permanent Reid’s Taglist: @dreatine @andiebeaword @calm-and-doctor @mind-of-a-girl  @katelynnwrites

Maxcer’s Army: @dreatine @andiebeaword @ironwoman18

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #max brenner #maxcer #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #dr. spencer reid #maxine brenner #spencer and max #spencer x max

[adarlingwrites]

Dormouse

Summary:

After playing a game with two of The Beach's most dangerous members, the dormouse gets her tail caught by a tiger's paw.

He’ll make a wildcat out of her.

Author’s Notes:

CW: sexist language, blood, parental abuse. This is a heavy chapter, please proceed with caution.

XII

the earth will see our eyes go blank tonight / the earth will rot away go blank tonight / I, I really wish these snakes were your arms

Soft snores float from the back of the truck, and Hinata does her best not turn around and stare.

Yamaneko had fallen asleep, her body curled up next to Last Boss’. The taller militant is resting his chin on top of her head, a protective arm around her waist. Their backs are turned from the other two occupying the front seats.

The taller militant glances at them with near-murderous intent when Tatta hits a bump on the road and wakes Yamaneko up. She rubs the sleep from her eyes, glances at Last Boss, then feels an overwhelming urge to puke her breakfast out.

Pale, the militant hangs her head over the edge of the four by four, and hurls.

“Stop the car,” Last Boss tells Tatta, who hits the brakes and looks at the female militant with concern. Hinata couldn’t help but look as well, watching as the terrifying militant rubbed his girlfriend’s back.

Coughing, Yamaneko turns to the driver. “Could you drive more carefully? Shit…”

“Sorry, I’ll drive more carefully,” Tatta blurts, bowing his head low in apology. He can still feel Last Boss’ death glare burning the back of his head as he restarts the engine.

Somewhat concerned for the nicer militant’s wellbeing, Hinata tosses them a water bottle, which Last Boss catches with one hand. Drinking from the water bottle slowly, Yamaneko gives the other girl a thumbs up.

Slumping against the backseat, HInata is still coming to terms with the fact that these armed and dangerous maniacs are still people who can have attachments.

She then starts to wonder if the militants at the back were anything like who they are now. The Borderlands does seem to bring either the best or the worst out of people, after all. Was Last Boss always an eccentric guy prone to violence, and was Yamaneko always a blunt gal with no regard for social norms?

The street artist takes a sharp inhale in contemplation, and regrets doing so as soon as the damp, earthy scent hits her. Rolling down a window, Hinata pokes her head out of the car, unable to stand the smell of sex and sweat from the militants at the back, and chuckles to herself.

“What’s so funny?” Tatta asks, a hand on the steering wheel and eyes still on the road.

“The car smells like sex and now I’m wondering if I should take her advice.”

“A-ah. Well, it’s your choice,” Tatta replies, his free hand scratching the back of his head.

“What about you, Tatta? Ever thought of sleeping around in the Beach?”

A small laugh escapes his lips. “Not really my thing, sorry. I prefer spending my time fixing cars and goofing around with my friends.”

“Mm, that does sound better. I enjoyed painting that mural with you, by the way. We should-”

A voice who belongs to neither of them cuts their conversation short. “Keep it down.”

Both of them nearly jumped upon hearing Last Boss’ voice. The militant is staring at them with mild hostility, his lover’s head still resting on his shoulder. “You’re going to wake her up again.”

“Right, sorry!” Tatta blurts, then he turns away from him, cold sweat on his forehead. Hinata tries her best to stifle a giggle. There’s something she finds humorous about seeing the enigmatic and frightening Last Boss cuddling with a sleeping girl and shushing people for her sake.

The two in the front remained quiet for the rest of the drive back, their knees bumping together.

The car came to a halt as they arrived. Gently, Last Boss shakes his lover awake, who drowsily mumbles something incoherent as she stretches. The group was unloading their haul when Aguni approached them, a grim expression on his face. Niragi and another militant followed closely behind.

Hinata flinches upon seeing the man with the pierced face, who closes in on her, trapping her against the side of the four by four. Tatta glares at him with wide eyes, feet plastered to the ground and too afraid to move. Niragi whispers something inaudible to the rest of the people present, which makes Hinata shrink further into the warm metal of the car.

To the street artist’s relief, Yamaneko gets in between them and pushes Niragi off nonchalantly as she walks towards the chief. She didn’t hear the quick “thank you” that bubbled from HInata’s throat, who slinked off to the back of the vehicle to hide.

“The hell is your problem?”

“You’re rolling your tongue out like a cartoon wolf again. You look like shit,” Yamaneko replies, smirking and flipping her side fringe as she turns away from Niragi.

“You smell like shit. You smell like a damn brothel,” Niragi yells after her, and she raises a single middle finger in response.

Niragi sneered, his fun for the day ruined, and he stood next to Last Boss.

“Shit, Last Boss, you too,” Niragi remarks as he caught a whiff of Last Boss’ scent, fanning the air with his hand. “Wait, is that dried sweat I’m smelling from your face or- you fucking dog,” Niragi adds, giving him a devious grin.

The tattooed militant rolls his eyes and doesn’t dignify Niragi’s teasing with a reply. He couldn’t hide the smug look on his face, though. Aguni frowns at their juvenile exchange, and pushes past Niragi.

“Enough. Where the hell were you two?” Aguni asks, voice low and full of disappointment. The chief looks at Last Boss and Yamaneko, and one can compare him to a father scolding children who snuck away past their curfew.

“Easy, chief. We just went on a double date with those newbies,” Yamaneko replies, smiling as she motioned to Hinata and Tatta. Her smile turns to a wicked grin upon seeing Niragi’s jealous expression.

That was Tatta and Hinata’s cue to run away as far as they can from the scene.

Before Niragi can confront the two of them, Aguni gives him a glare to remind him of why they’re here, and he begrudgingly stays in place. Then, he turns back to the pair. “We thought the two of you dropped dead somewhere.”

“Dropped dead? I- chief, what happened while we were gone?”

“This isn’t something we should be talking about in the open. You two, come with us,” Aguni responds. Gulping, Yamaneko gives Last Boss a worried gaze, who stands a little closer to the shorter militant.

Dread settling in her gut, Yamaneko found herself in the makeshift morgue again, where several bodies lay on separate gurneys. Aside from the Beach executives, there were several other people in the room, including a few familiar faces. Kuina and Chishiya are present, as well as Sunohara, who acknowledges her with a nod. Ann looks at the militants with a grim frown, and takes off her shades.

“We have limited equipment here in the Beach, but thanks to Sunohara’s help, we were able to determine that the victims’ hearts, brains, and kidneys are damaged. This might be a poisoning case,” Ann announces as she walks towards them.

“Do you think this is the same killer from before?” Aguni asks, stepping towards one of the corpses. He lift’s the dead man’s arm, and sees his number tag. Seventeen; just one rank away from Yamaneko.

“It’s possible. The suspect might’ve caught up with our attempts to investigate and switched methods. Plus, I think we have a motive now.”

Yamaneko turns to the taller woman, brows furrowed.

“Is there any reason why I should be here?” she asks, heart racing.

“That’s where the motive comes in. The player numbers of the people who were killed were in the top thirty. Twenty nine, twenty three, nineteen, seventeen, and twelve. One of the victims was even a member of Aguni’s martial sect. Whoever did this is eliminating higher ranked players. If you hadn't left this afternoon, you might have been a target. From the clues we have so far, someone who’s very desperate to leave the Beach must be behind this.”

“Then we need to put an end to this, fast,” Mira finally speaks up. “It’s only a matter of time before this person targets someone on the executive board.”

“I think I know who this person is…” Niragi scoffs. “It’s definitely Yamaneko’s asshole dad.”

Head whipping towards Niragi, Yamaneko folds her arms in skepticism, about to say something, but ultimately choosing to close her mouth. Hatter uses the silence as an opportunity to impart his observations.

“Come to think of it… whenever he turns in his cards from a game, he’s often the sole survivor.”

“Are you saying that he killed the other players to receive sole credit for the card?” Kuina speaks up from her corner. Beside her, Chishiya gives the executives a knowing smirk. “It’s a possibility.”

Aguni turns to the daughter of the suspect, who’s sweating bullets. “You said it yourself that you think that the man is capable of being violent with anyone. What do you think?” he asks.

“Hm. Your father is CEO of a company that provided services to this hotel before we all ended up here, am I correct?” Ann asks, circling Yamaneko now. “What kind of goods did they manufacture?” she adds.

“Yamacorp is an industrial manufacturer with a focus on chemical manufacturing.” Yamaneko replies.

“Was your father knowledgeable about the goods his company creates, or does he only manage the business side of things?” Ann asks, the conversation effectively turning into an impromptu interrogation.

“Father oversees the factory from time to time since he has a background in chemistry.”

Ann frowns. “Then there’s a high possibility that he is involved. One of the household poisons that can cause such damage is antifreeze.”

Lips trembling and thoughts racing her head a mile a minute, Yamaneko grimaces. “Are there any other suspects?”

“The only people with access to potentially hazardous chemicals in the Beach are the supply runners, medics, or the militants.”

Niragi rolls his eyes and points his rifle at his fellow executive member. “Are you accusing us of killing one of our own, Ann?”

“No. I’m just saying that it’s a possibility. We need to test the victims’ urine for calcium oxalate crystals, gather fingerprints, gather more witness accounts-”

Niragi interrupts with sarcastic clapping. “That plan’s just perfect, but you’re not in a damn forensic lab anymore, Ann.”

“Let’s just kill him,” Last Boss pipes up. At his suggestion, Yamaneko turns to glare at him.

In the corner, Chishiya chuckles and folds his arms. “Idiots,” he mutters under his breath, earning him a sour look from Niragi. Kuina observes the two of them, then turns her attention to the Hatter, who takes a few steps across the room.

“Niragi has a point. Ann’s methods would take too much time. The Beach is well equipped, but we don’t have everything,” the number one quips.

“We need to extract information any way we can,” Aguni adds.

“Then let’s beat it out of him,” Last Boss suggests.

Yamaneko begins to stammer, unable to come up with words in response to her fellow militants’ suggestions. “I- he-”

“What’s the matter, Yamaneko? Don’t tell me you feel sorry for that piece of shit. You’re sounding like that mousy little girl we picked up again,” Niragi asks, looking cross.

“I just think that beating someone into submission would only make them admit something they didn’t do,” the shorter militant says.

“She’s right,” Ann adds, placing a hand on her hip. “We need to lure the truth out of him.”

“How troublesome,” Last Boss mutters. “Beating him up is more straightforward.”

This time, Yamaneko frowns. “That’s what he did to me, and it always ended with me confessing to things I didn’t do just for the pain to stop.” His lover’s admission made the tattooed militant pause for a moment, throat dry, and Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed his own spit.

“Then do it to get back at him. Don’t you want to?”

At that point, Yamaneko’s hands are sweating, her voice inaudible to anyone but her lover. “I want to, but…”

“We’re not going to get anywhere with this,” Chishiya speaks up, leaving his corner and stepping under the harsh lights of the room. “The suspect isn’t even in this room for interrogation, and we’re not even sure if anyone is competent enough to manipulate the truth out of him. I know I can’t be bothered with it.”

“Then the next best thing would be for a Heart specialist to manipulate him into admitting his involvement, yes?” Mira suggests, grinning as she paces to the shortest militant in the room. Yamaneko’s throat is a dry river on a hot day, and her heart hammers against her ribcage.

“I’d do it myself, but being approached by an executive member would betray our intentions to him. We need someone who can rouse strong emotions out of him… provoke him and make him irrational. Make him blurt out a confession.”

Mira gasps excitedly, making eye contact with Yamaneko. “Ah! Why don’t you try it, Miss Yamane? You know him better than anyone else in the Beach.”

“It’s Yamaneko. I’m not a heart player.”

“You give yourself too little credit,” Mira croons.

“This has gone on for too long. We’ll bring in Mr. Yamane for interrogation later.” Ann crosses her arms. “Hatter, should we adjourn?”

Unsettling feelings pool in Yamaneko’s gut, staring blankly ahead as the meeting ends. She brings her hands to her face, groaning as a wave of tension wrapped itself around her head, and feeling vaguely nauseous. Aguni approaches his underling, his frown deeper than usual, betraying the sliver of concern he feels for the girl.

“How do you plan to deal with this?”

Yamaneko shakes her head, and hangs it low. “I honestly don’t know. My relationship with father is strained, but I still can’t wrap my head around the possibility of him being a serial killer of some sort.”

“You’ve experienced his cruelty first hand, am I right? Trust your own experiences with him.”

The chief’s words make her look him in the eye, a wordless understanding forming between the two.

“I’ll seek you out when I decide what to do, chief.”

Aguni nods and leaves without another word. Lover close by, the younger militant retreats to the rooftop, where no one can bother the two of them. In silence, Takatora observes her. Across the horizon, the sun is slowly setting, and the sky is painted with hues of pinks and oranges.

“I’m going to go on a game with my father,” Yamaneko finally says, eyes fixed on the setting sun.

“I’ll come with you,” her lover replies, bumping shoulders with her. The shorter militant sighs, scratching her head. “You can’t, Tora.”

“He’ll hurt you.”

His sight doesn’t leave her as she stands up to pace around. “Father’s afraid of you, I can tell. He wouldn’t dare to interact with me if you’re around. I have to do this alone.”

“Just settle for the other solution. My method.”

“I want to hear it from his mouth. I want to see him shoot his own damn foot. I need that satisfaction, Takatora.” She sits back down, and holds his hand, fingers entwined with his spindly ones. “If my method fails, let’s use yours.”

Cold fingers touching her face, Takatora turns her head and kisses her. It was short, and uncharacteristically tender. “You’re worried,” Yamaneko breathes, the warmth of the kiss still lingering on her lips. “I’m your wildcat, tiger. A frumpy old man doesn’t stand a chance against me.”

This time, Takatora kisses her with more hunger, his hand leaving hers to cradle her neck. “I’ll come to your game venue as soon as I’m finished with mine.”

His lover breaks the kiss to whisper something in his ear, chin resting on his shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The heavens are a deep blue now, the sun gone.

“I’ll go tell the chief about the plan so he can inform the other executives,” Yamaneko mumbles, watching the clouds roll by.

Another night of games are about to begin.

As Yamaneko enters the elevator to descend to the lobby, a tan hand holds the doors open. HInata steps in, keeping a safe distance between herself and the woman armed with tactical daggers.

“Hey.” Hinata tosses something to her, and the militant catches it. “You left those in the back earlier.” Yamaneko’s body went rigid as she looked at the item; her packet of birth control.

She missed several days.

“I- thanks.”

Yamaneko couldn’t pay any attention to what the other girl is saying as paranoia gets the best of her.

“Surely, I’ve been feeling tired for the past few days because of the chief knocking me on my ass during training and not because Tora knocked me up, right? I’m nauseous during the car ride because Tatta wasn’t driving carefully, right? I’ve been feeling emotional because of the stress from the Beach serial killer case and the big possibility of father being that nutcase, right?”

“Right?”

“Hey, um, are you there?”

Hinata’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts, and she clears her throat. “What did you say again?”

“I said thanks for getting Niragi off my back.” Hinata scratches her head. “Look, um, I know you’re one of them, but you’re alright. Say, what if we work out a deal of some sort?”

“What kind of deal, newbie?”

“You keep Niragi off my ass, I’ll get you whatever the hell you want. Promise. I’ll be your personal procurement gal.”

Yamaneko chuckles. “Hm. Why the hell not? Hell, come with me in a game tonight. I’m sure I can ask the chief a favor to group you with me. I’ll show you the ropes.” In return, Hinata gives her a genuine smile. “Sure.”

As they walked together to the lobby, Hinata couldn’t help but stare at Yamaneko. She’s short, probably the shortest member of the militia, and her hair’s a mess of uneven cuts at the back. The red highlights on her bangs and fringe are somewhat faded, and her dark makeup looks pristine at the moment, unlike when she found her getting bent over a desk by her boyfriend a few hours earlier.

“If you don’t mind talking about it, how did you end up in the militia?”

“I encountered Last Boss and Niragi in a game and they took an interest in me. I dropped my wallet, they found my address, and they whisked me away.” Yamaneko pauses, looking at HInata with slight concern. “Are you sure you’re ready to hear what I’m about to say about Niragi, though?”

‘You’ve pretty much told me earlier that he’s a sleazeball now. I can take it.”

“Well, I was one of the girls he screwed upon arrival. I just… learned to tolerate it to survive. He stopped touching me after I stopped reacting to him. Or maybe because Last Boss told him that he wanted me to himself. I’m not sure anymore.”

“A-are you really suggesting I just give in and just let him have his way with me?!”

“What the- Of course not. But it’s an option if you want your life on the Beach to get easier. Or maybe you can ask that friend of yours to pretend to be your boyfriend, but I doubt he’s the type of guy Niragi will respect.”

Face contorted in anger and indignation, Hinata stammers. “I don’t know what’s more fucked, that he won’t leave a woman alone unless she’s the girlfriend of someone more dangerous than him, or that you don’t give a shit that Niragi’s-”

When Yamaneko grabs her by the shoulders and slams her against the wall, the other girl is reminded that she’s still an armed and dangerous member of the militia.

“Let’s get a few things straight here: First, I don’t fucking appreciate you putting words in my mouth. Second, I’m just telling you how I survived Niragi. The fact that I accepted your deal is me extending my help. So, don’t push your luck with me, newbie. I can still change my mind about this and throw you to the wolves.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

With that, Yamaneko lets go.

“C’mon, we have a game to play.”

As the slips of paper were being handed out, Last Boss and Yamaneko looked for each other’s eyes across the sea of people, and they gave each other one last look of longing as they went on with their respective groups for the night.

Yamaneko and Hinata receive their assignment, and the former’s face lights up when she sees Sunohara approaching. Silently, she thanks Aguni for heeding her favor of letting her choose her teammates tonight. The chief knows she has a plan. Not long after, Mr. Yamane approaches, glances at his daughter, and turns away, entering the back of the car.

Intentionally, Yamaneko sits in the back as well, while Sunohara rides shotgun, the wind tousling her chestnut bob, with Hinata on the wheel. The car ride is tense and quiet, wind howling as the car speeds through the empty streets of Tokyo.

Nervous, with beads of sweat on her forehead, Yamaneko felt nauseous again, rolling down the window to hurl.

“You alright?” the doctor asks, looking at her through the rear view mirror. Yamaneko nods and leans back on the car seat, keeping her head tilted upwards. From the corner of his eye, Mr. Yamane watches his estranged daughter, expression inscrutable.

The car screeches to a halt as they arrive at their destination: Tokyo Zoo.

Yamaneko regards the place, solemn expression on her face.

Her childhood days weren't always filled with hurtful words and beatings. On some days, on the off chance that Mr. Yamane took a day off, he’d bring her with her mother and sister here. But that all halted when he took his father’s place as CEO. Still, Yamaneko thinks the glimpses of familial happiness doesn’t outweigh the horrible things he did to little Minami, Mai, and his deceased wife.

“Of course this just had to be the fucking venue,” she thinks, slamming the car door shut.

One by one, the Beach members picked up the smartphones from the table, facial recognition registering them as participants, and followed the arrows to the game arena.

The synthetic voice most people dreaded breaks the silence. “Registration closed. There are currently four players. Difficulty: Six of Hearts.”

“Another Heart? Just my luck,” Sunohara sighs, rubbing her arms with her palms. Yamaneko inhales deeply, eyeing the new girl, then her father. “Ever played a Heart before, Hinata?” the militant asks her.

“No.”

“Then you’re in for a lesson.”

The doctor takes out a cigarette from her coat and lights it up, visibly anxious. “Heart games play with your heart and mess with your head. They’re the nastiest games out there.”

Judging the Beach veterans’ reactions, Hinata knew she was in deep shit. Mr. Yamane looks visibly distressed too, sweat beading on his balding head and soaking his dress shirt.

On a circular table are four snake tanks, the glass covered by an opaque fabric so the inside isn’t visible to the viewer, with a hole large enough for a hand to fit in on top. In the middle of the table is a syringe, a vial of unknown substance, and a scalpel.

“Game: Antidote. Rules: Two out of four boxes contain a live Gloydius blomhoffii, better known as the mamushi, one of the most venomous snakes in Japan. Each player must simultaneously stick a hand in a box and keep it in for five seconds. Players who haven’t been bitten by the snake must decide who deserves the antidote. Time limit: None.”

A hiss coming from the direction of the boxes is enough to confirm that they do indeed contain live snakes. The echo of the arena makes it hard to determine from which boxes it came from.

“Fuck. Fuck this,” Hinata mutters, legs shaking.

“Don’t tell me you’re running away,” Yamaneko quips. “You have a better chance of surviving if you stick your hand in as opposed to getting struck down by a laser.”

“Let’s get this over with,” Mr. Yamane interrupts, choosing a box of his own. “Stop stalling and get your hands in.”

Rolling her eyes, Yamaneko drags Hinata to the box beside her, and she takes her spot as well. Sunohara gets ready as hell, psyching herself up as she rolled up her coat’s sleeves.

“On three,” the doctor says. “One, two, three!”

All participants stick their respective hands in. Yamaneko chose her left arm, given how it’s in poor shape in comparison to her right one, and she tries to make her movement as slow as possible. Maybe the snake wouldn’t bite her if she doesn’t disturb it.

Unfortunately for her, Mr. Yamane exclaims as he feels fangs pierce his skin, and the snake in Yamaneko’s box gets startled as well, its teeth sinking into the flesh of her forefinger.

Heart hammering in her chest, Yamaneko pulls her hand out from the box and curses as she sees a droplet of blood on her finger. “Shit! Why the hell did you have to scream like that?!”

The ex-CEO hisses. “Shut up! You never learn your lesson, do you? Still talking to your father like that, have some respect!”

At the revelation that the two are related, Hinata’s eyes widened. “He’s your father?”

“Yes. We’re not exactly on good terms, as you can see,” Yamaneko sighs, trying to squeeze the venom from her finger. Sunohara strides to the table, retrieving the medical supplies. Then, the doctor touches the militia woman’s hand to stop her. “Don’t. Squeezing it would only make it spread. It needs to be excised, and then we need to inject you with anti-venom.”

A coarse hand grabs the doctor’s arm, causing her to gasp in pain. Mr. Yamane is giving the tall woman a furious glare. “Wait a damn minute! You sound like you’ve already decided to give her the antidote. What about me?! Huh? You’re a doctor of some sort, right? Who gives you the right to decide-”

HInata separates him from the doctor, her stance defensive. “Are you seriously going to let your own kid die so you can live? What kind of father are you?!” the tan-skinned girl exclaims in disbelief.

“Probably the type who kills people to advance his Beach tag,” Yamaneko quips, putting her own game into motion.

“Says the woman who brandishes daggers and gives her pussy away to murderers,” Mr. Yamane barked back. “You’ll be wasting the antidote if you give it to someone like her. I have a decent daughter and an infant son to come back to in the real world! Give the antidote to me!”

“Oh my God, you know you’re not helping your case at all by calling her those awful things, right?” Hinata quips, both hands on her hips.

A bitter laugh bubbles from Yamaneko’s throat, underscored with light pain as her hand starts to swell from the snake venom. “But the daughter in front of you doesn’t deserve to live? Tell me father, who else didn’t deserve to live?” Voice cracking, Yamaneko is screaming at that point. “We know it’s you. You killed those people in the Beach. You’re so desperate to go back to your cushy life as CEO, huh?!”

“You know what? Fine, it was me! You know I’d do anything to survive, Minami. That’s what I taught you as well!”

As the venom spreads through their system, the estranged father daughter pair escalates their quarrel, with the daughter striding towards the father to grab him by the collar.

“And yet you judged me for doing what I can to survive when you kicked me out. You judged me for getting caught giving men your age handjobs and blowjobs under the table. You judged me for stealing when I had nothing else.” Head spinning and tears pooling in the corner of her eyes, Yamaneko’s voice completely breaks as she utters a cry.

“You turned Mai against me. You poisoned your children against each other. You don’t deserve to be called a father.”

A slim, gentle hand pulls her away from the old man. Sunohara is giving her a sympathetic look. “We don’t have much time. Hinata and I decided you should get the antidote. You won’t be out of the woods yet after we administer the antivenom, too, so let’s move.”

The ex-heiress lets go of the Yamacorp CEO, cathartic, laughing and crying at the same time.

When she looked down as she tried to walk, however, the smile disappeared from her face. Blood stains her thighs, and the crotch of her bikini feels warm and wet. “This is embarrassing,” she croaks, and Sunohara merely chuckles at her predicament as she sits her down. Hinata stays right beside her new friend, if she can call Yamaneko that, offering her a shoulder to lean on.

Antivenom fills the syringe as Sunohara extracted it from the bottle. “Let’s administer the antidote, and I’ll get you some pads for your period when we get back on the Beach, huh? Maybe we can get help for your fa-”

Whatever Sunohara was about to say was replaced by a scream as she watched Mr. Yamane charged towards them with a dagger.

Deranged, delirious, Mr. Yamane stabbed his own daughter with her own weapon, the blade sinking in her gut. Squelching sounds and Yamaneko’s scream of agony echoed in the open space, accompanied by Hinata and Sunohara’s own shrieks of terror. Withdrawing the knife, Mr. Yamane threw it aside, and reached for the antidote.

Before the needle can plunge into his skin, a laser fires from the sky, cutting his life short in an instant.

Wide and wet with tears, Yamaneko’s eyes didn’t leave her father’s as she watched his final moments. Beside her, Hinata is shaking and covered with the militant's blood, while Sunohara is breathing heavily, still in shock.

The gravity of the situation sinks in when Sunohara hears Yamaneko whimper beside her.

“Help me.”

#alice in borderland #imawa no kuni no alice #fanfic: dormouse #oc: minami yamane #oc: zia hinata #oc: lilian sunohara #oc: tsuyoshi yamane #last boss #takatora samura #last boss x oc #takatora samura x oc #suguru niragi #morizono aguni #rizuna an #mira kano #shuntaro chishiya #takeru danma #hikari kuina #kodai tatta #fanfiction #character study

[takonei]

Beta AU - Main story, Chapter 6, Investigation (Part 1)

Note of the author: Guess who’s baaaack? ;) Boy have I been waiting for this chapter.

Chapter 6: My killing game, our killing game

...

A young boy wanders in the cafeteria, a rather tasty-looking meal on his plate.

He spots the two other people present and approaches them.

"C-Can I sit here?"

The girl was mindlessly picking the vegetables on her plate with a fork, head resting in her palm. "Suit yourself."

The silence immediately settled back.

It's not like there was anything to say. What was the point of talking anyway?

... He doesn't know how much time passed before he heard the sound of footsteps behind him.

The person didn't even ask before sitting next to them.

He had seen him back then, so his face was not so unfamiliar.

The other guy stared at him curiously, then raised his head.

"... I feel like I've seen you somewhere before." he said. "Not that it really matters anymore."

The new guy rolled his eyes. "Yes, I killed someone a year ago and my face was plastered on every single newspaper for two weeks. Big deal."

The girl raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be... you know... in prison?"

"It was a pain making my way out here, but I'm used to orchestrating mastermind-ish plans. It's a must-have in this world."

"I see..."

Leaning back into his chair, the supposed murderer glanced at the other side of the cafeteria, where two other people were discussing, far away from them. A rather frail-looking boy and a strong-looking young woman. He narrowed his eyes at them, like a predator analyzing its prey.

But the silence was rather cut short as the sound of a breaking plate was heard, accompanied by a person stumbling on the ground, now covered in food.

A man was standing next to the victim, clearly the one responsible for the incident. "Watch where you're going, skeleton."

The smaller girl looked like she wanted to cry, trying to retrieve what she could with difficulty.

He swore he saw a smirk forming on the killer's face before turning back to look at the scene. "Hey, jackass. Try to get a better adversary next time, would you? You look pathetic bullying someone half your size, just saying."

"What did you say?!"

"How about you try and fight mademoiselle over here instead?" he glanced at the tall woman in the back. "Unless you're scared of getting your ass handed to you by a girl."

"I'll fucking show you-!"

"ENOUGH!!"

Everyone turned to the source of the voice.

Just their presence was enough to make everyone on edge, but their wrath was feared by all. Like a god among men, a single misstep around them was enough to put your life and dignity on the line.

And they were not here to play poker.

"You two better not cause any more trouble. I could snap my fingers and you two would become cannon fodder for them. You wouldn't want that for yourself, would you?"

The two's gazes met. The tall man's eyes were full of rage, but the other was not letting any emotion slip out. Perhaps one could see annoyance with a hint of pride, if they were perceptive enough.

But both knew their place. It was wiser not to respond.

"... That's what I thought. Because you are here does not mean you are safe yet, remember that."

Silence settled back in the cafeteria, but the dread did not fade away.

But they were here now, and there was no going back.

Not now, not ever.

 ...

 --

 ...

The stars were illuminating the night sky as always, giving the academy a semblance of light in the darkness.

Although that is only a lie Shuichi told himself to feel more human, even though he would never admit it out loud.

An artificial sky looming over an academy of students with fake memories and pasts.

His sense of reality was decaying over time. If he really took a moment to think for himself, he would probably feel his mind falling apart. Nothing but a structure of lies that unconsciously kept him sane, slowly crumbling into ruins.

After watching Rantaro's video and learning the truth about his intentions and his wretched success, they had left the building.

Miu stopped in her tracks. Her eyes wide, she had been staring at the ground the entire time.

"This is... This is so wrong..." she muttered.

Kaito put a hand on her shoulder. "At least... He succeeded in his own way."

The young woman immediately jerked away. "Succeeded?! Rantaro died! He killed himself and Ryoma for his plan and you're telling me he succeeded?!"

"I never said the way he did so wasn't completely fucked up!!" Kaito yelled back. "Hell, I don't even know why he considers it a success in the first place, I'm just quoting him!"

Shuichi didn't have the courage to look at them in the eyes, but spoke anyway. "He said it would kill Monokuma's will to continue the game, but... Is this really true?"

"Who the fuck cares about that?!" tears formed in Miu's eyes. "Why did he think that killing himself was something that would truly end the game?!"

Kokichi didn't even try to say anything. He could only stare at the argument.

"We don't know what Monokuma is planning to do now, he could put us through another time limit for all we know!!" Miu continued rambling. "Monokuma wants to make us suffer no matter what, why did he think he would stop after that?!"

"I don't fucking know!!" Kaito could only try to keep up. It's not like the others could. "I don't know what went through Rantaro's head nor what led him to believe that this would be a brilliant plan!"

"I don't think trying to understand his thought process would lead us somewhere."

Shuichi jumped at the voice.

Kirumi was staring at the ground. She looked... distressed.

"He was too far gone. There's something in his eyes that felt unnatural."

"Something, dare I say... not even human. I cannot describe it, but it's not an emotion you would ever want to see in someone."

The violinist felt his heart sting. He had seen it, too. The two were the ones who witnessed the most of him. Not the facade of the leader who fought no matter what, but the vulnerable him. The real him.

But Miu lost even more of her temper than she already had. She approached Kirumi and grabbed her by the strands of her corset. "Rantaro was our friend!! And you're saying he doesn't even deserve to be called 'human'?!"

Shuichi tried to step in. "That's not what she meant! Miu, please! We're all-

"Am I the only one who even remotely cared about him?!"

She slammed a hand to her chest. Her voice was cracking, and tears were now yet again flowing from her eyes.

"You're all yelling about how there was no hope in Rantaro, that he wasn't even human in your eyes!! You're all claiming to like him but can't even show him respect after he's dead!!"

"How did I even bring myself to befriend any of you monsters?!"

Shuichi felt himself stiffen.

There's a part of him that knew Miu meant her words.

He quickly realized he was not the only one who froze.

Everyone was silently staring at her.

The artist stared back, slowly realizing what she had just said. She slammed her hands on her mouth. "I..."

"It's fine."

Shuichi immediately looked at Kokichi.

"You don't need to say anything. I... I know I must have said way worse back then."

She glanced away. "You... You were just grieving."

"And so are you!" he exclaimed. "You said it to me back in my lab! We all should take the time to grieve! Why would you be an exception to this?!"

She stared at him with dumbfounded eyes.

“Please... I don’t want you to lament in despair like I did and I... I don’t want you to go through the pain I experienced.” Kokichi muttered.

“I don’t want anyone else to go through this ever again.”

His voice was low, like each of his words was difficult to speak out.

Her eyes met the ground, hoping to hide her tears just a little.

"Miu..."

Kaito took a step forward. "We've all been assholes to each other at some point or another, and me more than anyone else."

“Perhaps I’m just projecting, but... I know you had faith in me when I was at my worst, so it’s only fair I have faith in you when you are at your worst.”

The young woman sniffled. "I'm sorry, it’s just... Rantaro isn't..."

"No. Rantaro was not a monster." Kirumi spoke, eyes closed. "What I do believe is that the game had much more impact on him than he let us know. Things he hid from us for our sake. This closure must have led him to believe he had to go to extremes to help us, and thus orchestrated this... ‘case’, if we can even call it that way."

"We should have been more careful about him. But now is too late to lament ourselves over our mistakes."

"I should have worded my thoughts differently, I apologize."

Shuichi felt his heart calm down, for some reason.

Kokichi nodded. "That's... the impression he gave to me, too..."

He could only agree.

Kaito continued looking at his friend, who seemed lost in thoughts. "Maybe we should settle for the night? We might be in a better state to-

"No." Miu raised her head. "We're not sitting here doing nothing."

The violinist's eyes widened. "Are you... planning on doing something?"

"Rantaro's goal was to end the game. And the only way to honor him is to put an end to this right here, right now."

"Tonight we discover the last truths of the killing game. We investigate about Keebo's death, what really happened to us and we expose the-

Miu was cut short by the sound of an explosion right above their heads- It was coming from the building itself.

"W-What's going on?!" Kokichi exclaimed.

"I don't know but we need to get out of here!" the girl yelled.

The group immediately started fleeing.

"I can't run for shit, idiots!" Kaito shouted.

Shuichi looked back. "Guys! We gotta help Kaito!"

Kirumi stared at him for a moment, then sighed. She wrapped one of her arms around his back as support and the two followed the rest of the group.

After getting to the dorms, they turned back to the main building, witnessing the destruction caused by an unknown force.

It seemed as though an exisal -the blue one from what he was seeing- started getting involved in the chaos, but...

"Why is everything exploding?!" Shuichi exclaimed. "Monokuma wouldn't do this, right? So who is destroying the building? Who is piloting the exisal?!"

There were only one of the deadly machines. Monokuma could be the one piloting it, but that didn't explain why he would do so.

"If Monokuma is using an exisal to stop the chaos, then... Who is destroying the building?" Kokichi asked.

They all turned to him.

The bear would not create that scene by himself. So who?

They were all here. It wasn't any of the five survivors.

But before they could ponder more, another exisal showed up. The green one.

The two mechas faced each other, and not even ten seconds later, the blue exisal was tossed across the courtyard.

They could only watch the scene unfold, bewildered by the sudden appearance of the machines.

Who? Who was fighting?

He glanced at Kirumi, who seemed to wonder the same.

But she suddenly perked up, becoming as pale as the fake moon above their heads.

He turned to her. "What is it?! Do you know who is in here?!"

The others faced her as well.

She stayed silent for a moment.

"... Where is Monodam?"

Shuichi blinked. "What- Monodam? But he's dead! Ryoma killed him!"

"Have any of you seen his dead body?"

The violinist's eyes widened. "Huh?"

"This is the number one rule any assassin or mercenary must follow, no matter what."

"If there is no dead body, there is no victim."

"So where is Monodam?"

Kokichi shook his head. "Are you suggesting he is alive?"

"Can you tell for sure he was dismantled by Ryoma? Have you seen his carcass in pieces?"

Miu frowned. "Didn't Rantaro say he took him apart?"

"Do you still believe anything Rantaro says when it comes to the plan in which he managed to deceive everyone, including Monokuma and his own partner?"

... She froze.

Shuichi looked at the green exisal that was approaching them.

The machine stopped, then bent down.

The top of the exisal opened. Something jumped and flawlessly landed on the ground.

A tiny dichromatic bear.

But...

Something wasn't right.

It wasn't the white and green bear they all expected to see.

Whatever was standing before them did have its right side white, but the left side was painted in a dark grey-blue color. Its hands were no more, replaced by small black and bright blue canons, and the pacifier had the same colors as them. Small blue pins were attached to its mechanical limbs, with tiny cables entering the body.

The belly, instead of being plain white, had a particular pattern on it. Two dark scissor blades surrounded by even more thin cables.

A symbol that was all too familiar to them now.

But what stood out the most was its right eye. It was hard to tell what even was stuck on it. The piece had been attached here artificially, cables going around the head to keep it in place.

The blue parts were slightly glowing, somehow giving an eery feeling to the robot.

The new bear took a few steps forward.

They could only stare at him with wide eyes. What was he even going to do?

"5-OUT-OF-6. SOMEONE-IS-MISSING."

Missing? Everyone was here, though...

The bear made a strange noise as the others glanced at each other.

"MISSING-PERSON: RANTARO-AMAMI. PLAYING-'INTRODUCTION'."

His eye started glowing green, and 'Monodam' started talking again.

"Hey."

They all recognized that voice instantly.

Ryoma...?

The man sighed. "I really didn't want to record this part. But I had to keep in mind the possibility that this plan would fail. That Rantaro would get executed."

If only he knew...

"If you haven't guessed it already, no, I didn't kill Monodam. The hacking gun only knocked him out. All I did was repair and modify him to act as I wanted. It was tough, but manageable. What you're looking at is the project I have worked on for the past two days."

"Meet Monoshi. An upgraded version of Monodam specifically made to end the game after the trial, whether both of us died or just me. But if this introduction is playing, then that means things didn't go as planned."

"Have you guys watched the videos about Monodam's faked death and my real cause of death?"

The light in his right eye changed to a bright yellow. Was he waiting for them to answer?

"Yes, we did..." Shuichi replied.

"PLAYING-'INTRODUCTION-3'." the bear spoke again, his eye gaining back its green color.

"Good. Then you must have realized this trial was incredibly unfair for the both of us. But I'm not here to talk about that. Pretty sure Rantaro did that already, and if he missed any details, I have noted the important stuff in my lab for you guys just in case."

"As Tsumugi said in her notebook, you guys have to investigate Keebo's death. Now is the perfect opportunity to put an end to this game once and for all."

'Monoshi' approached Kaito and extended its hand to him. The mechanism opened to reveal a green key.

"Kaito. I heard from Rantaro that you wanted to pilot the exisals." he said as the biker's eyes widened. "I am giving you the key to the green one. I don't think it should be that hard to control considering those fingerless bears are able to do so. Do your best."

"Monoshi will take care of opening secret passages and entrances that are not accessible right now. Monodam knew what places are left to visit, so Monoshi does as well. Although for that, bombs will be used so make sure to get out of the way when needed."

"Kaito, you and Monoshi will have to keep Monokuma busy long enough for the others to complete the investigation."

The bombs...

Shuichi felt like he should have expected that, for some reason.

The robot turned to the blonde woman. "Miu."

"To be honest, I cannot exactly pinpoint why, but Rantaro seemed to trust you more than anyone else if we exclude me. He asked me to give you the task to lead the group for the investigation in case things didn't work out for him."

The street artist jumped.

"Huh?" she muttered, surprised by his words. But the robot didn't seem to register that.

"In short- Monoshi will unlock the secret entrances, he and Kaito will distract Monokuma and the rest of you will investigate everything you possibly can."

Shuichi nodded.

But his heart suddenly stopped when he heard a crash from behind them.

Monokuma came back with not one, but the four other exisals.

"My, my! My sweet Monodam, already an angsty teenager going through a rebellious phase... But to want to kill your own father? Puhuhu! That is not something I expected from the most tender and affectionate kid of mine!"

"But you see, with the joy of modern technology, your wonderful brothers and sisters could cross the boundary of life and death once again and come back to our marvelous and colorful world!"

"Do you seriously think you could steal *my* exisals for *your* goals? Puhuhu! These two had a great sense of humor!"

Monoshi's eye turned blue for a moment.

"VOICE-RECOGNIZED: MONOKUMA. PLAYING-'GREETINGS'."

As the eye turned green, the modified robot spoke again.

"Hey there. Knew you were going to try and stop this. But do you seriously think you're gonna win?"

"Rantaro and I have prepared a lot more than you could possibly imagine. You and this entire academy are going down whether you like it or not."

Monokuma laughed. "Puhuhu! I must admit I am impressed! To trick me into thinking my precious monokub was dead when in reality, he was rebelling against me? Such despair!"

"But you're forgetting that *I* am the headmaster of the academy and the one managing the killing game!"

"This little tamper tantrum is over!"

...

Monoshi stayed silent for what felt like an eternity. And then-

His eye glowed red.

"HOSTILITY-RECOGNIZED. PROCEED-TO-EXTERMINATION."

"What-

The bear pointed his canon at Monokuma and immediately started firing. Their captor dodged, but the group now had to get out of this conflict and fast if they didn't want to die because of collateral damage.

The exisals started shooting missiles at Monoshi as well, but he was just as agile. Their battle quickly moved away from them, the bears chasing each other in the courtyard. The scene looked unreal.

"Now's our chance!" Miu exclaimed. "Kaito! You think you can pilot the exisal?"

The biker smirked. "I've been waiting for this. But before that, you guys stay safe, alright? I know you can do this. Go and investigate without me, I'll only slow you down."

Shuichi nodded. "Count on us, Kaito!"

"Also..."

He approached Miu, and suddenly held her in his arms. The girl was surprised, but she did not push him away. After a few seconds, he took a step back and put his hands on her shoulders. "I know you can lead this group to our freedom. I better see you alive at the end. Alright?"

"I better see you alive at the end! But I promise."

She turned to the rest of them.

"Let's end this everyone! Tonight, we're ending this killing game once and for all!"

The tone in her voice warmed his heart. This strength, this emotion... He had seen it before.

It was reminiscent of the old Rantaro they had known at the beginning of the game.

A great leader guiding them to victory.

Kaito climbed into the exisal, using the key Monoshi had given him.

The mecha stood up.

"LET'S FUCKING GO!!"

The machine jumped towards the fight between the robotic bears.

This was it.

Their chance to fight back and win.

The investigation they all had been waiting to do finally started.

...

Kokichi spoke up. "How do we even start?"

Miu hummed. "Kirumi, no offense but you're the one who should know the most about how to get away with murder... How would you proceed to cover the evidence?"

"None taken." The woman pondered. "But investigating Keebo's death will be extremely difficult, and it is not the only thing we need to investigate. Monoshi talked about secret rooms as well."

"We need to know everything about this killing game."

"Good point." the artist replied. "Keebo's death was long ago and essential evidence might have disappeared since then."

She was right. The killer- the mastermind must have cleaned up after themselves. Was it even possible to solve this case now?

"For now, Kaito and Monoshi are keeping the monokubs busy, so the rooms might be opened later. We should focus on what we can investigate." Kirumi continued.

"How about groups of two? We might be able to cover more ground this way." Shuichi suggested.

"I already know I am headed to the fifth floor for Ryoma's notes, so whoever comes with me, please make up your mind fast." the mercenary raised a hand.

"Can I leave this to you, Shuichi?" Miu asked. "Kokichi and I will go to the exisal hangar to see if we can recover anything."

The violinist nodded. "Sounds good!" he turned to Kirumi. "Shall we go?"

The groups separated. His partner was fast, but she often checked to see if he was following.

And true to her words, the duo went to the fifth floor. To Ryoma's lab.

The doors had been destroyed, supposedly by Monoshi when he made his way out.

"Do you think there is something else we can get here?" Shuichi asked.

She entered the lab. "That's what we'll find out. I wouldn't be surprised if they somehow had another trick in their sleeves, even though both of them are dead now."

It was hard not to be impressed by their genius. Kiyo and Tsumugi might have tried to help from beyond the grave with their notebooks, but Ryoma and Rantaro were on a whole other level, and are still actively helping them.

Some boxes looked intact, but some had been completely destroyed and seemed to have exploded from the inside. The two started walking towards the back of the lab, but before they could do so, they noticed a box that stood out from the rest.

It was burned in the shape of an X, and judging from the way it looked, someone had done that on purpose.

However, it was easy to tell who did the damage.

Kirumi didn't wait and immediately climbed on the box. Monoshi, or rather Ryoma must have wanted them to find what was inside. Perhaps it was the notebook?

"The lock was destroyed. I'll see what I can find in there." she said.

"Alright..." Shuichi muttered. Out of nervousness, he kept going through the lab to see if anything else was worth investigating.

He did notice another box that was partially exploded, with nothing interesting inside. The lock didn't seem to have been destroyed, though.

Was this the box Monoshi was kept in?

The back of the lab, despite what Shuichi first thought, hadn't changed at all. Everything was the same as it was during their last visit earlier.

"I found the notebook."

The violinist jumped at Kirumi's sudden appearance. "Really?"

The two approached the source of light.

"Did you find anything else?" she asked as she opened the book.

He shook his head. "I mean, I found the box Monoshi might have been kept in, but nothing worth our attention."

Kirumi hummed as she read the first page. "... This indeed seems to be a recap of everything they have discovered. The summary states that this was made in case Rantaro didn't have time to tell us everything, just like Monoshi said."

"I see..." Shuichi muttered. They took a considerable amount of precautions- although the two were never on the same page in the first place.

"The flashback lights, the cameras, ending the killing game... Hm?"

Shuichi blinked. "What is it?"

"There is a chapter called 'The mastermind's goals.' I don't think Rantaro explained anything about this."

"Let me see!"

Kirumi put the book on the workspace.

--

Entry n°4

Don't expect me to know about the reasons why this game was created, I don't know. Neither of us do and it's for you guys to find out. At first, we did ask ourselves why, but it became clear pretty quickly that the 'why' was unimportant.

This is about the motives given to us. We didn't think much about that compared to other stuff so don't expect clear explanations. Those are just Rantaro and I's theories so take this with a grain of salt.

The first motive: the time limit and the first blood perk, were obviously to start the game by all means necessary. I don't know what else to say. Easy way to start things with someone obviously falling for this shit. Fantastic.

The second, we're not sure. That might have been to expose some of our secrets, like Kirumi's talent. The tablets were obviously switched intentionally. There's no way the only two tablets that didn't reach their owners coincidentally happened to be those of the one who hid her talent and someone who was likely to watch their video. In other words, it was to reveal stuff that we would have never guessed if not for Monokuma's 'help'. The accomplice perk was made to turn our cooperation against us. To dissuade us to work together, make sure we all become paranoid and break us mentally. Not difficult to understand.

The third is incomprehensible to me. By that, I mean the 'how'. Why would I turn into a coward? I don't know if I was kidnapped again or some shit, but whoever was with them wasn't me. But anyway, the mastermind obviously wanted to eliminate temporarily the smart people (Tsumugi, Rantaro and I) to do their little scheme in peace, which was Keebo's murder.

The fourth may have been to expose our last secrets like Kaito's leg, Kokichi's trauma, Kirumi's condition, and as Rantaro said, manipulate Kiyo into killing Tsumugi by putting more and more pressure on him.

The fifth motive doesn't make any damn sense. I know he blackmailed Kiyo to make the trial last longer to extend a new time limit, but he could have ditched it after his death for despair or some other stupid excuse. Although with the circumstances,  I can see why he would put a second time limit. But offering equipment to explore the outside world? He could have shut his mouth and nothing would have changed. Fucking idiot. He should know better by now.

Anyway, this is the least important part and the one we're the less certain about, but those were the most solid theories we had.

--

Shuichi blinked, clearly not expecting the tone in the soldier's writing. "That's... Interesting..."

However, he quickly noticed something. "Wait, you told Ryoma about your condition?"

She shook her head. "I didn't. But I believe Rantaro must have told him."

"What is done, is done. Everyone knows now, and I do not think it is useful to hide it anymore."

Those two exchanged everything they knew, so it was not surprising, actually.

The woman sighed. "A part of me thought that the 'tablet switch mistake' for the second motive was intentional, but I see that I was not the only one who got to this conclusion."

He winced.

"Although what makes me worried is the third motive." she said. "Kidnapped and replaced by some sort of clone temporarily?"

He hummed. "But... Ryoma said he wasn't sure... Can we really trust this?"

After a short pause, Kirumi closed the book. "Probably not. But we should keep this in mind."

Obtained truth bullet! Killing game motives

"Is there anything else worth reading in this?" Shuichi asked.

His partner reopened the book, and that's when the two noticed the last part of the summary. 

1. Flashback lights 2. Cameras 3. Ending the killing game 4. The mastermind's goals 5. Monoshi 6. Stuff

"Stuff?" Shuichi frowned. "That sounds odd..."

Kirumi quickly turned the pages.

--

Entry n°6

I don't care if the person reading this is Rantaro or not. I'll be dead by the time anyone finds this anyway, and perhaps you are now dead too, boss. So I'm just going to assume someone else is reading.

I don't know why, but it feels like Rantaro is still hiding things. That he never shared certain details with me. I always told him everything I knew, I grew to know him and his habits more than anyone else here. I always somehow managed to get him to speak to me truthfully up until... I would say the 4th trial.

Ever since then, things have changed, somehow. He's been suggesting solid theories more than ever, but at the same time, he seems to be hiding even more information from me.

There is something he knows that I don't. I never got him to speak the truth and it's frustrating as hell.

We're supposed to be damn soldiers, the smartest and the strongest of the group, and our job is to help everyone escape. Why is he withholding information from me?

In any case, I'm extremely worried. I will keep the stoic face because it's easier for me to manage, but at this point I know I cannot do anything anymore and I have accepted it.  It's probably too late now, but I wanted to write this somewhere. One could count this as venting, I guess.

Good luck in ending the game, I hope you guys will make it out alive, for our sake.

Sincerely, Ryoma Hoshi.

--

Shuichi glanced away from the book. "Do you think... He knew Rantaro had planned to die from the beginning?"

Kirumi stared at the text. "I don't think so."

She closed the notebook and gave it to him. "I am more inclined to think he told Ryoma just the right amount of information for him to cooperate with his plan without any sort of hesitation. He didn't tell him things that could hurt his feelings and make him unwilling to act, or realize the mission could be pointless."

The violinist winced. "That's kind of harsh, don't you think? Rantaro... I understand he might have hidden things from Ryoma but... He wasn't a heartless manipulator, was he?"

The mercenary stayed silent for a moment.

"What would you have done in Ryoma's position if you knew nothing was real?"

He paused. That was not a question he expected to hear.

"If you knew your entire life didn't matter, that everything you had done up until now was nothing but meaningless lies, would you have accepted to sacrifice your life for everyone?"

"I-I..." Shuichi stuttered. How could he even answer that?

"Both Ryoma and Rantaro were devoted soldiers. Even after discovering all of his memories could have been faked, Rantaro continued. He went through this plan and sacrificed himself and Ryoma for us. But what about Ryoma? Would he have followed him, knowing this sacrifice could be pointless, or just not for him to do?"

...

Shuichi stared at the ground. "This is..." he looked up to the young woman, hoping to find answers. "W-What do you mean?"

The silence as Kirumi seemed to be choosing her words was almost eerie.

"... This dilemma is what I have supposedly been living for a long time. I didn't have the full details of my missions. Perhaps the target was a good person, but I was told they were vile and needed to be eliminated. The less you are told, the less likely you are to rebel or regret your actions afterwards."

"So you obey, murder, and move onto the next target without asking yourself any questions."

She turned her back, facing the exit.

"With what Rantaro told us after the vote, those philosophies are starting to lose meaning. Perhaps it is time for me to reconstruct my beliefs, and find out who I really am."

"I should be glad there is a possibility I am not the killer of numerous innocents, but somehow, I am not."

"The unknown has always been humanity's greatest fear, as they say."

Without another word, she slowly made her way towards the entrance.

Shuichi could only stare.

... Perhaps it was indeed the time to start questioning what he truly believes in.

Obtained truth bullet! Unknown memories

The two left the lab since there was nothing else to see.

But the moment they stepped on the stairs, the building started trembling, like something was happening above the fifth floor.

"What's going on?!" Shuichi turned to Kirumi.

"It looks like either the rooftop or Himiko's lab has been damaged. We need to go now."

The two ran as fast as they could.

They reached the first floor and spotted Miu and Kokichi.

"Monoshi has opened something in Himiko's lab!" Miu exclaimed. "I don't know what it is, but that's what he told us before going back to help Kaito."

"But we also need to investigate the rest of the building for evidence about Keebo's case..." Kokichi said.

"Then Kokichi and I will investigate the building itself while you two go to the lab." Kirumi suggested.

"There's no time to waste! Shuichi, let's go!" the street artist immediately made her way to the black and white door, the violinist following her.

He had forgotten how long those stairs were, but this wasn't the time to complain.

The star-patterned door opened, and the two immediately spotted two gaping holes in the lab. One giving a direct view of the fight between Kaito and the bears in the courtyard, and another leading into a strange white room in the back of the lab.

They entered and saw sixteen cabins attached to powerful-looking machines.

"What the hell are these?!" Miu approached one of them. "And why do they feel... familiar?"

She stepped inside. Only one person could fit in these. But before she knew it, the thing shut, trapping her in. "Hey! Let me out!"

Shuichi panicked. "Miu!"

He inspected the machine, but it seemed nothing was of use. His eyes darted on all sides of the room and then found a red button in the back.

Emergency shutdown system Do not press if the person inside is not in immediate danger.

The violinist did not think and immediately slammed the button.

The cabin Miu was in immediately opened, letting out some steam.

The girl stumbled out of it, a hand on her forehead. "Ugh..."

Shuichi went by her side to support her. "Are you okay?"

She rubbed her eyes. "I... I don't know, but..."

"I remember."

Shuichi's eyes widened. "Remember what?"

She glanced around the room. "We were here... We were trapped in those... I don't know for how much time but we were here at some point..."

He frowned. "For the Gofer project?"

"Yes! But... Is it, really? Rantaro and Ryoma confirmed the Gofer project was a lie, so... Why?"

Vague memories resurfaced in Shuichi's mind. He had been in this room, once. But now he wasn't so sure.

Were other people with him? Familiar faces?

Nothing was clear, and all the memories felt like they were drowned in a sea of white noise.

"I mean, I do remember being here and... I think I do remember seeing you guys but everything is so fuzzy..." she said, before gripping her head. "Ugh. My head hurts."

Obtained truth bullet! Familiar cabins

Shuichi narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps we should think about it later... There are so many places we need to explore."

He glanced at the file on the table near them. "Perhaps this could help us?"

The two approached the papers and started reading them.

It seemed to be some sort of summary.

Gofer Project Participant List

- Akamatsu Kaede - Amami Rantaro - Chabashira Tenko - Gokuhara Gonta - Harukawa Maki - Hoshi Ryoma - Idabashi Tatsuya - Iruma Miu - Momota Kaito - Ouma Kokichi - Saihara Shuichi - Shinguji Korekiyo - Shirogane Tsumugi - Tojo Kirumi - Yonaga Angie - Yumeno Himiko

Miu frowned. "Who the fuck is Tatsuya Idabashi?!"

Shuichi was just as confused. "And why isn't Keebo on this list? He was one of us!"

The two glanced at each other, trying to apprehend what was in front of them.

"... And here I thought we were looking for answers."

"Now we just have more questions."

"Great."

Obtained truth bullet! Gofer project participant list

Miu paused for a moment. "Hold on."

Shuichi pondered as well. The list looked a bit too odd for his liking.

The girl stared at the unknown name for a moment. "Do you think... This guy is the person we're looking for?"

"You know, the mastermind?"

Shuichi jumped. They had theorized the mastermind was not actually someone in the survivor group because Kiyo had not been suspicious of any of them, no matter how much he studied them.

That added to the fact that Kokichi's karma never seemed to have hit them despite all of the horrible things they had done.

But somehow, this felt... wrong.

Even after all this time, he was still praying that the mastermind was not any of his friends. And yet when an unknown name magically shows up and could solve all of his problems, he couldn't bring himself to assume the worst of them.

"I don't think we should automatically assume that... We don't even know who he is."

"But think about it, Shuichi!" Miu exclaimed. "Someone who didn't participate in the killing game with us, who is probably hiding somewhere in the academy! Someone we've never heard of before now, that's him for sure!"

"We don't know that yet! Monokuma could have just added that name on the list to throw us off for all we know!"

Miu paused. "That's..." she frowned, pondering to herself for a moment. "... not actually impossible."

She flipped the pages to see the mysterious person.

A black and white picture was provided, but they did not recognize this face.

The boy had little to no hair and looked rather scrawny and weak. He almost looked younger than them.

--

Tatsuya Idabashi - Ultimate robotics engineer

Day of birth: 29/10 Gender: Male

Height: 168 cm Weight: 55kg Blood type: O

Family: None

Value: Essential Role: Ensuring the safety of the structure itself by doing regular check-ups, as well as educating the rest of the group about his skills to ensure a safer journey. Will also be maintaining the exisals in check.

Status: Dead

--

Shuichi stared at the profile with concern. "What? He's... dead?"

Miu shook her head. "I don't even know what I expected, but dead...?"

He hummed. "If this profile was made before the game, then there's no way he is the mastermind..."

"Didn't you say we couldn't trust anything Monokuma gives us like two minutes ago?"

Fair.

"But still... I don't think this profile comes out of nowhere."

Miu sighed. "We better find new info because whoever the fuck this guy is, I do not trust him."

He didn't either, but it was too early to assume things.

Obtained truth bullet! Tatsuya Idabashi

They looked around the room, but nothing else was worth inspecting.

"Let's not waste any more time here, the others need us to investigate the rest of the academy." Miu started making her way out.

After going down the stairs -which was still a long way- they walked to the second floor. They quickly met Kirumi and Kokichi investigating the labs as much as they could.

"So? Anything new?" Kirumi asked.

"It's very weird, not gonna lie." Miu replied, blinking. "But for now we should keep investigating, I don't know how much longer Kaito and Monoshi will be able to hold back Monokuma and the monokubs."

Shuichi nodded. "How about you guys?"

"Check your monopads. Kokichi and I managed to unlock the previous files and clues we got from the third investigation, although it's not much." Kirumi explained.

"Sweet!" Miu smiled, taking out the tablet.

And true to their words, the file was available, and it looked exactly the same as the one they had back then.

Monokuma file #3 -updated-

The second victim is Keebo, the ultimate ???

The body was discovered in the entrance hall.

The estimated time of death is 8:00 AM.

The cause of death is unknown.

No injuries were noted in the victim’s body.

Obtained truth bullet! Monokuma file #3

"We're trying to find new clues, but... For now, we got next to nothing..." Kokichi muttered.

Shuichi hummed. "Maybe we should switch partners? Perhaps we'll get a fresh view of the case."

Miu clicked her tongue. "Gotcha." she turned to the mercenary. "Kirumi? Wanna continue with me?"

She nodded. "Of course. Let's go."

The two girls confidently headed further into the corridors. Somehow Shuichi could sense a powerful aura coming from these two.

"So... Where are we headed?" Kokichi took him out of his thoughts.

Shuichi put a finger on his chin, humming. "Where did you guys investigate?"

"Mainly the first and second floor... We might need to cover the basement, though."

He nodded. "Then let's go!"

The duo headed back to the first floor, but immediately after stepping in the main entrance, they stopped in their tracks.

One of the machines outside shot the main door and provoked a large explosion right in front of their faces.

The two coughed as the smoke dissipated. They noticed Monoshi, standing right outside the door, a cannon aimed at the floor.

That's only then that they realized there was a large hole almost right in front of their feet.

Shuichi approached the damage and realized there were stairs leading underground. "What on earth...?"

Monoshi stared at them with his glowing mechanical blue eye. "SECRET-ENTRANCE-UNLOCKED: UNDERGROUND-PASSAGEWAY. ONE-SECRET-ENTRANCE-REMAINING."

The bear immediately stormed off.

Kokichi and Shuichi stared at each other before looking down. "Is this where we're headed now?"

The corridor looked devoid of light, the darkness of the night not helping at all. He could see iron grids and cables, which gave him the impression that this was made as a last-minute addition.

The violinist took a step forward. "We have no choice. There must be answers waiting for us down here."

Kokichi nodded.

The two boys headed down. Hopefully, they would find the solutions to the problems that the investigation itself made them aware of, as well as the truth of Keebo's death.

"It's our goal to seek the truth and we have no time to waste."

#ndrv3 #danganronpa v3 #ndrv3 au #beta au #main story

[serifsans]

1989

"I don't care what you do with it. Take it to some secret place. Bury it. Burn it. Just make sure no one connects it to me, please."

Vlad didn't mean for that to sound like a plea but he also didn't mean for all of this to happen, so clearly life has a funny way of throwing curve balls at him right when he finally thinks he's got a hang of everything. He wants a smoke, wants a drink, but most of all, he wants this to be over. It's not that he doesn't love his brother because despite everything, he does, but he also never wanted to see him again and yet here we are.

"I'll take care of it. Don't worry," his brother says.

Yura takes care of problems for a living. He's good at it. Discreet. He could have done literally anything else with his life instead of dragging their family into this bullshit but if there is anything the Volchenkov brothers are known for, it's digging their own graves. He loves his brother but he will not introduce his daughter to him. Vera will turn out better than both of them.

The shifty little alien twink, true to his word, is nowhere to be found. Either Jean-Paul will return after this is over like he said or he won't. He left him his number (and maybe it's real and maybe it isn't) and promised he'd compensate him (how, he has no idea and the dog didn't elaborate) but Vlad just doesn't give a shit right now. He doesn't need to be here for this bit of business. He'll wonder about aliens later.

"I owe you," Vlad says and hates that he does. "Thank you. I'm sorry for the trouble."

"You don't," Yura says as he sizes up the body but Vlad knows better. "The fuck is this, a gargoyle?!"

"It isn't."

He doesn't elaborate further. Yura doesn't press the matter. It just needs to be gone and no one needs to know about it. He can trust him to keep a secret. He doesn't trust most people. Vlad didn't even really trust his own husband, not really, because he was kind to him but also too hasty for his own good. Dmitri's in the ground now, so it's irrelevant.

His brother works in silence and will not accept his help even though Vlad's the one who caused this mess. Perhaps it'd be more accurate to say that he didn't cause it because that fault lies with the alien and the dead thing to be gotten rid of but Vlad sure as hell ended it. The funny thing is that the little alien can't even die or so he claims, so it was completely fucking pointless. It would've been better for everyone if he had let Jean-Paul be mauled and simply walked away before the stranger noticed him, but how could he have possibly known that when the stars were only distant things until tonight? And even if had, Vlad thinks with his heart more than his head. Jean-Paul (he doubts that's his name) offered to get rid of the body since it was his fault he was in that mess to begin with but Vlad trusts his brother more than he trusts anyone else.

Anyhow, possibilities don't matter, only the here and now.

"I worry about you. Are you okay...?" Yura asks, almost saying a name that Vlad hasn't used in years except to sign off on legal paperwork before trailing off, perhaps thinking better of himself. He thought he'd never have to come out to his family if he simply vanished off the face of the planet the minute he was well enough to walk out of the hospital and you know what, he's still not going to do it. He doesn't owe shit to anyone. Yura can look at his shaved head and draw whatever conclusions he wants.

"Asshole only nicked me. Bled like a motherfucker but I'm fine. If it scars, it scars," he says because it's not like anyone will notice a new facial scar amidst what's already there. "I'm fine. Don't baby me. I've survived worse. It's just flesh."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Fuck you, what do you want me to say, that I'm some poor dainty thing that can't handle a little blood? It's just flesh, Yura. Fuck you, asshole," he says and he's slipped into the voice he uses when he's about to deck someone even though he's not really mad at his brother. "I don't feel anything about it. If something has to be done, then it has to be done. There isn't a point feeling sorry about it. I just need to get rid of this flesh and move on."

Yura doesn't take offense to his outburst. He's always been patient. Vlad's always been his favorite baby sibling.

"If you feel sick after, if there are nightmares, it's normal. It's not weakness. I am not insulting you. I care about you and always will," he says.

Vlad grits his teeth even though Yura's being completely sincere.

"I'm not a good person. I don't really give a shit if anyone lives or dies except me and Vera. Don't worry about me, please. I'm going to be just fine."

He's going to be fine, it's over, it's managed, he doesn't have to think about this anymore. He didn't feel anything after except adrenaline and annoyance that he had to hide the body. If anything, he was disappointed that he didn't care more.

Yura's hand is on his shoulder. He's offering some words of advice but all Vlad hears is a lot of nothing. God, he's tired. Some vacation this turned out to be, huh? The first time he leaves his daughter at camp and focuses on himself is the the first time he kills someone or something or whatever.

"If you or Vera ever need anything, I don't care what it is, call me and I'll take care of it," he hears Yura saying when he fades back into reality again. "We've missed you. Mom misses you. Please come back. No one will hassle you. I'll make sure of it."

"You know I'm not going to do that," he says. "Tell them I'm doing fine. Why the hell do you have to bring our mother into this anyway? I am never letting her know I have tattoos. You remember when you got that knife on your shoulder and she didn't talk to you for a month? It'd be like that but worse."

Yura eyes his ink.

"Yeah, she won't like that. Knuckle tattoos? Really?"

Why is that everyone's reaction? They're cool. Vlad looks cool.

"Don't give me any shit. I like it. It's not like I work a desk job."

It's not like they'd hire him at a desk job, anyway. He put in some applications after Dmitri died, before he cut his hair and started wearing suits, but they'd take one look at his scars (as if they were his fault) and he knew his resume was going in the shredder. Fuckers only care about looks. Fuck them.

"What have you been doing? Tattoo artist?"

"I like to keep a few mysteries in life," he says because he does not want to tell his easily-scandalized brother the kind of shop he works in. "I've been taking some business management classes though. Been thinking of going for a degree, maybe."

They talk a little after that, carefully skirting around the subjects that neither of them really want to address, definitely not mentioning the reason they're both in the same vicinity.

When Yura's gone and he doesn't have to think about the body anymore, Vlad makes his way back to the campsite, flashlight in hand just in case he has to deal with more assholes. To his surprise, the alien's there, this time in human form instead of a terrified little dog. Eyes closed, he dances (is that dancing or is he just wiggling?) to whatever music he's playing on his Walkman.

"You came back," Vlad says.

Jean-Paul opens his eyes, pauses his music, stops his wiggling and/or dancing.

"I said I would, didn't? I'm a man of my word," he says. "Did it go well? Were you able to hide it? I really could have gotten rid of it, you know. I've got my ways."

"I had to be sure," Vlad says. "Is this a bad time? You listening to some important alien shit?"

"Oh, this?" he says with a laugh. "Just a little Whitney Houston. Now, I promised that I'd help you out for your good deed because you went through something very nasty and not at all nice and I am so sorry for that, and I realize now what I'm going to do to help you out."

"And that is?"

Jean-Paul smiles, beautiful and dangerous.

"I'm going to rob a few casinos for you."

#ooc #drabble #just getting rid of a body as one does

[stardancerluv]

A Time When You Needed Roman

Summary: you get one piece of bad news after another, Roman comforts you in his own way.

Warning: Dommy!Roman, teasing, beginnings of fingering.

Arthur’s Note: Tonight, I was actually working on Jerome’s new chapter but I got very frustrating and bad news. It has left me with worry. So I stopped writing Jerome and seeked out the comfort Roman could give. Enjoy!

Takes place within months of Creative Fervor’s final chapter!

Usually, Roman was the one who was moody or even down right temperamental. You or Victor would be there to bring him down from the brink of an angry outburst. Many a people still had their faces or even lives because you talked him back. Of course, there was the rare occasion, when you fully encouraged him.

You were far from perfect, you were very well aware of who you had fallen hard for, Roman Sionis.

He was a force of his own. People feared and loved him. People desired and were disgusted by him. To you, he was your world. Together, you continued to grow into the relationship you shared.

Today, was not your day. You had woken up feeling fine. But then, it went down hill from there. You were ready to face the blank canvas in your studio. After sitting down, your personal number rang.

Sighing, you got up. “Hello?”

“Is this Y/N who was hired to design..”Things grew muffled.

“Hello?”

“Sorry about that,” The voice was clear once again. “Were you hired to design an infinity chair?”

“Yes, for Mr. Edward Enigma.”

“Hello, I am his lawyer. We lost the case, so for the next six to twelve months he will be away in Arkham. If he gets out for good behavior, we will be in touch.”

“Oh, he really thought this was open and shut.”

“We both did.” You heard the lawyer sigh. “Well, not to hold you up any further, we’ll be in touch.”

“Alright, thank you.”

You out the phone back on its cradle.

Stretching, you rolled your eyes. You knew he was bad news, far too many riddles.

Sitting, back down grabbing one of your pencils, now you could start your day.

But then, the shrill ringtone you reserved for Harley filled your studio.

Closing your eyes, you shook her head.

“Yes, Harley?”

“Hi Dolly.”

You rolled your eyes. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well, you see Puddin wants to go a different route with our um place.”

You gritted your teeth before speaking. “Does be want to reschedule?”

“He actually doesn’t he said we only redecorated a year ago and he still likes it.”

“Ahh. Well, that’s ok.”

“Will you be with Romy tonight.”

“Yes.”

“Great, I will buy a drink tonight. Maybe we can discuss my room in our place.” You heard some muffled sounds.

“Alright, see you tonight.” Getting up, you pushed your stool away.

You were seething. You were supposed to help them from top to bottom. Now, the prince of crime was having second thoughts. Fuck him.

You stormed over to Roman’s off. He was hanging over some maps. Your steps, creaked as you walked in. He looked your way, his hair not styled back with his pomade, fell softly into his face.

“Do not offer Harley or that asshole Joker any free drinks tonight.”

“Alright, good. They are two black holes.”

Turning, on a heal you walked out. You were such a horrible mixture of emotions. You could cry, you could scream but instead you shook. You walked back to your studio. Right now you needed your music. You would blare it and then see how you felt. Such, this was the fickle lifestyle of an artist.

You were grateful for Roman at these moments yet there was still that part of you that was incredibly independent and you hated having lean against him during these times.

You stepped a a few steps into your studio and you shook with annoyance and feeling so helpless.

Two arms came around you, instinctively you put up a small fight. “Baby.” His voice was soft and even. “Don’t fight. Let me hold you.” You took a breath, the timber of his voice chipped away at the walls, that you had just built around to feel better.

His hands wrapped around your wrists and unwound your arms that you had not even realized you had wrapped tightly around yourself. “There you go.” He encouraged as you continued to breathe.

Simply, he just held you.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asked sometime later.

You nodded, you could feel as his hold on you then loosened up. Turning, you met his eyes, then nestled in his throat.

“First, Enigma canceled on me.” You finally told Roman. “He’s going away for a bit. So that job got canceled.”

“Harley called shortly afterward. That big job, they gave me? Poof all gone.”

“Bastard.” Roman’s mouth took a sharp line, then his eyes met yours and they burned with an idea. You were sure of it. “Baby, do remember that originally, I was supposed to hire you and woo you?” He raised his eyebrows, in a way he knew you found irresistible.

“I remember.”

“Well, I am hiring you Ms. Y/N will you please accompany me to my office? I would like to share with you, my vision.”

“Roman...”

“I’m serious. It’s about time I have one of your pieces.” He ushered you into his office. “May, I grab you a drink? Perhaps a piece of chocolate or perhaps me?” He smirked.

You chuckled, and a smile replaced the smirk that was splashed across his face. “That’s what I wanted to hear.” Hs went and leaned against his desk.

“But Mr. Sionis, if I am to work for you it would be so unethical for you to offer yourself to me.”

“Baby, do I ever follow the rules?”

“No.”

“Exactly.

*****

Sometime, later you back in your studio, you were drawing away. You would design Roman the absolute best chair. Your mood had significantly improved.

Distantly, sometime later you heard something but couldn’t place it. You ignored it and kept on working. Then the sweet and savory scent of food tickled your nose.

Looking, over you smiled. “Roman, really?”

He shrugged holding onto a tray filled with some of your favorite things to enjoy for brunch.

“I need you to be well fed.” He put the tray down on a small table near the two of you. Putting down your pencil, you went over and grabbed a croissant. Giving, him a softly demure look. Before, pure relish filled you as you took a bite. It was perfect, crusty outside and soft warm center.

You paused mid bite, “Oh, Roman, did Anton, make these fresh?”

He smiled. “Consider, this me wooing you.”

“Well, then you can consider me won over.” You went over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

You whispered.

He smirked. “So wouldn’t be nice to scandalize Joker and Harley by not even permitting them into my club?”

“I’d love that but are you sure?” You finished you croissant and slipped your arms under his suit jacket.

He looked down at you, his blue eyes were filled with mischief. “They broke a contract with you.” He shrugged, “Plus, I’ve been thinking of a reason worthy to say, my club, my rules to them.”

“Can I hang off you while you say it to them?”

“Will you wear the purple little number for me as well?”

You smiled up at him, “Anything, for you.” You ran your finger through his black hair. “Would you like it, if I wore my stockings with the garter belts.”

His eyes lit up as his lips curled into a smile. “I might have to reach under the dress and snap them.”

The idea immediately made your stomach churn with excitement. Going, on your tip toes, you grazed your lips on his throat. “I certainly hope you do.”

*****

Sitting at your vanity, you slipped on one silky thigh high and then the other. Standing and making sure everything was even and laid just the right way, you carefully then affixed them with the garter. You turned, you inspected yourself they were a bit of work but they looked good. Wiggling, just so you slipped your bee purple dress on.

This time, you could not resist twirling. When you stopped, you met Roman’s reflection in the mirror. He whistled. “Look at you,” he beckoned you to him. Happily, you did reaching under the short hem of the dress, his gloved hands grabbed onto your ass and he held you to him. “Fuck, you look beautiful.”

You looked at him, as demurely as you could. “So yes?”

“Yes.” He growled.

******

His gloved hand rested on your thigh since the two of you came down from the penthouse. He gave you a squeeze. Which was already a little over an hour.

“Roman, Y/N” Victor grimaced, scratching the back of his head. “Joe, needs you. Joker and Harley are demanding a word.”

Roman, slid you a look. “Ready?”

You smiled. “Yes.”

Getting up, he smoothed himself then held out a hand. You took it. He moved easily with you through the Saturday, night crowd. Most knew to move out of the way and those that didnmt simply did since it was the polite thing to do.

He had made sure to tell Joe and the others to keep them outside. Once, outside he smiled ready seeing a rather annoyed Joker and flustered Harley. He wrapped a tight around your middle.

He looked them up and down, before turning to Joe. “Is there a problem?”

Joe, sighed. “They would like to come in.”

“Oh! I see.”

Joker, gestured at Joe and then him. “What is going on here, Roman?”

“Nothing actually, was there something you needed?” Roman, ran his fingers through his hair. “I do have some guests to attend to.”

Harley, looked at you. “Are we not having a drink tonight?”

You tightened your arm around Roman. “Guess not.”

She looked at him. “Romy?”

“Yeah?”

Joker laughed. “Roman, cut it out. Let us in.”

Roman, looked down at you. He enjoyed the radiant smile you gave him back. “It’s my club and I really don’t care to have you two in there tonight.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Good night.”

“Roman Sionis,” Joker practically growled. “You’ll regret this.”

Roman, didn’t even bother to look back.

“Oh, that was so much fun.” Delight gave your voice a sweet ring to it.

“It was.” Roman glanced around, the he placed a hand on either knee. “Baby, make me happy. Draw your the skirt of your dress back just enough, that I can see your garters.”

“Roman, I was half joking.” You practically whimpered and rubbed your thighs together.

“I wasn’t.” His tone, took a firmness he had yet to hear you bot obey.

Now, you were the one whose eyes glanced around. He smiled and squeezed your knees as you rose the skirt of your dress.

The softest of your thighs was exposed to him, he drew his hands up. Though gloved, he could still feel the softness.

He dipped his fingers under the first garter. He once again heard as you inhaled. Pulling back just enough he heard as it snapped back along with the most delicious sound from you. Happily, he did for a second time and once again, he was rewarded with the sound you made.

This was far from the last time he enjoyed playing with your garters that evening.

Much, much later when the club was shadowy and the entertainment had long since left for the day. The people who came and partied had left, even Victor had retired to his quarters up stairs; only you and him remained.

“Baby, come here and sit in my lap but keep your back to me.”

“Alright.”

He said a little straighter and the he enjoyed the pleasure of your weight in his lap. He longer played coy. He pulled your dress up, so only just enough of cover your sweet soft center.

He caressed your thighs opening. “Imagine if I did this while people were not so far dancing, drinking...” Pressing a kiss just behind your ear. He could feel that your pulse was quick.

When he snapped the garters the sharp sound echoed and bounced off the empty club’s wallls.

“Mm, baby.” He purred. “What do I do to you?”

He caressed your inner thighs. Drifting upward, he stopped and heard you whimper at sudden absence of his touch.

Inhaling, he kissed then sank his teeth into your bare shoulder while his hand now free of its glove teased at your wetness. As you felt his teeth, you moved just enough that his fingers could feel the wetness that had been growing.

“Shall I touch your deeper?”

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @nebulastarr @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @itsknife2meetu @theblackmaskclub @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @nomnomnomnamja @poe-kadot26 @top-rumbelle-fan @babydoll97 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @rosionis @queenofgotham800 @brookisbi @peachthatdrinkslemonade @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @rentskenobi @starwarsslytherin @proffesionalclown @chogisss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @pooshnulooshnu

#roman sionis x you #roman sionis imagine #roman sionis x reader #roman sionis x y/n #ewan mcgregor #bop #black mask #birds of prey #black mask x y/n #black mask fanfiction #black mask x you #black maks x reader #a time when you needed roman

[inkedstarlight]

Bittersweet: Chapter 7

Summary: Finals are rapidly approaching and after the events that occurred at Thanksgiving, Nesta is having a hard time focusing. With her new job at Rita’s and classes, she’s exhausted. Tomas has been helping her study for the exam but with the exam just days away, Nesta is still nowhere near prepared. She reaches her last resort which is to get the answers to the exam from her T.A., Tomas. It doesn’t go as planned. Notes: Read it here on AO3! Warnings: explicit descriptions of sexual violence (please don’t read if that is triggering for you; you’re your number one priority) Bittersweet Masterlist

December

After the disaster that was Thanksgiving, Nesta turned all her attention to classes. Finals were rapidly approaching which was a good enough excuse as any to skip those damn dinners. It certainly didn’t stop Elain from inviting her, but Feyre on the other hand? She expressed no interest in Nesta’s sudden absence. In fact, Nesta imagined her sister breathing a sigh of relief every time she told her she wouldn’t be coming.

Something ugly planted itself within her after the events that transpired just two weeks ago. It churned in the pit of her stomach. It was as if her insides were being twisted inside out. And she couldn’t seem to place the emotion. Anger? Guilt? Embarrassment? All the above?

Either way, she was too busy to think much about it. With finals and her new job, Nesta’s schedule was jam packed every week. She wasn’t complaining. She savored it. She was never left alone with her thoughts. There was always something to do and since all the work exhausted her, she no longer had trouble falling asleep.

After applying to Rita’s, she heard back from them a week later.

Nesta,

Thank you for your application. It’s always exciting to hire a new employee, and I was especially ecstatic when I discovered you were Feyre’s sister. That little rag-tag group stole my heart.

After reading through your resume, I would love for you to be part of our little team here at Rita’s. I’m not one for interviews (they’re pretty pointless if you ask me), so just let me know when you’re able to start. My family and I are on vacation until the 29th. I’m looking forward to meeting you.

 Best,  Rita

And with that, Nesta was no longer unemployed.

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

She started just a couple days following Thanksgiving. Rita had closed down the bar for the holiday, she and her wife leaving town for an annual vacation. According to Feyre, Rita only took off two weeks in the year. And since her family didn’t celebrate Christmas, those two weeks were reserved for Thanksgiving.

Nesta barely slept the night before her first day. She hated new places, new people. New jobs. It was all just… a lot to take in. But she showed up the next day, her anxiety hidden behind a confident stride and a professional attitude.

Right off the bat, Nesta noticed the welcoming atmosphere of the bar. It was a bit rustic, the wooden tables and chairs worn. The vintage bulbs that hung from the ceiling provided warm, dim lighting. The high chairs that sat in front of the bar counter were cushioned with plush, deep red fabric. Nesta looked around the walls to admire the art. She noticed upon closer glance that they all had names of local artists next to their respective work. The small space was elegant, inviting, homey.

Rita didn’t hesitate as she walked up to Nesta and gave her a hug. She stiffened, unaccustomed to physical touch of any kind – much less from a stranger. Rita seemed to read the room and retracted her arms with an apologetic smile.

“Forgive my wife,” a voice said from behind Rita. Nesta looked up to see a blonde woman smiling. Not at her, but at Rita. “She doesn’t have any sense of personal space.”

Nesta watched, amused as Rita stuck her tongue out at her wife. Turning back to Nesta, she waved her hand. “Forgive her. She’s just jealous.”

That seemed to be a good enough icebreaker as any. After being introduced, Rita led Nesta behind the bar. The next hour was spent training. Rita told her how she began her business, the bar’s signature drinks, and the other employees who worked there. Apparently, there were only four bartenders excluding herself: Emerie, Helion, Viviane, and Thesan. It had been an hour before open when Nesta had arrived and by the time the clock hit five, Nesta was pretty confident in her drink-making skills. But that wasn’t what she was worried about; it was more the whole “costumer service" thing. To say the least, Nesta lacked people skills. She had no problem calling people out on their shit, and she was going to have to learn how to keep her mouth shut in front of customers. Gods only knew how angry Rita would be.

That anxiety dissipated when one of the workers, Emerie, clocked in. She strode in confidently, her gaze unwavering as she approached Nesta.

“Three things you need to know. First thing, don’t ask me to cover your shift unless you’re dying or you win two tickets to a Beyonce concert, in which case I’m coming. Second of all, wear a lower cut shirt next time. Men are disgusting and won’t spare a look at you unless you flash a little cleavage.”

Nesta crossed her arms. “And the third?”

Emerie pointed to a board behind them, one that Nesta hadn’t noticed when she walked in. “We have a competition going on to see who earns the most tips. Lucky for you, we just started last week. The winner gets full control of the music for a month and as many rounds of drinks they can handle paid in full by the losers. So,” Emerie appraised her, “don’t fall behind.”

Nesta inwardly laughed at the woman’s attempt to intimidate her, especially considering she was a good foot shorter than her. Little did Emerie know, Nesta was competitive as fuck and she would do anything to win. Especially if there was alcohol involved. She smirked. “I don’t think that will be a problem.”

Emerie blinked at her in surprise. Nesta just held her stare.

Then, Emerie’s lips broke into a smile. “Oh, I’m going to like you.”

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

Since their first meeting, Nesta and Tomas had studied together about once a week. If Nesta was being honest, she would have completely forgotten about finals if Tomas hadn’t offered to help her study. Her mind was preoccupied with all the other shit going on in her life, and the only reason Nesta hadn’t yet failed that class was thanks to Tomas. She was baffled at his reputation as an asshole T.A.; he’d been nothing but resourceful to her since the beginning of the semester.

At least the job at Rita’s was going well. She liked all her coworkers for the most part. Helion was loud. Viviane was sassy. Thesan kept to himself. Emerie was her favorite. Nesta learned that she had been working there since its beginnings. Apparently, Rita and her wife took her in when she was young, and they’d been like family ever since. Nesta and her couldn’t be more similar. They would complain about customers before they even turned their back. Both of them were no-nonsense women who didn't tolerate bullshit. They were both suckers for romance novels and had a large distaste for country music. And most importantly, they bonded over their hatred for the same people.

It made for the perfect friendship.

But her job was only taking away time that she needed to utilize for academia. Despite Nesta’s efforts to study for the gods-damn exam, she wasn’t prepared in the slightest. During their sessions, she could barely focus. Tomas’s words went in one ear and out the other. When he gave her extra work, she rarely did it. Her mind was scattered; it was as if she was sleepwalking through her days. Wake up, go to class, work, study, sleep. Rinse and repeat. Nesta was exhausted.

So, with the exam just three days away, Nesta didn’t have any other options. She couldn’t fail this course and jeopardize her education.

Her plan was simple. T.A.’s had access to exam answers. Tomas was a T.A. All she needed to do was get those answers from him in one way or another.

The idea had been swirling around in her head for the past week, but she’d always shoved it to the background when it surfaced. After all, it was her last resort. Nesta didn’t cheat. In fact, she despised when people took credit for doing jackshit. It was hypocritical, and yet...

 I can’t fail. Not again.

It wasn’t like it would be hard either. She didn’t have to do much to get Tomas’s attention. That first day she'd introduced herself after class, it was impossible to miss the way his eyes flicked down to her chest every few minutes. Add to that a lip bite and a suggestive glance, and those answers would be hers.

What could she say? Men were simple like that.

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

It was Tuesday, Nesta and Tomas's last study session before the exam.  

As Nesta sat at the table eating dinner, which consisted of a cup of coffee and a granola bar, her phone vibrated beside her. Picking it up, she saw Tomas’s name flash across the screen as she received his text.  

Hey – my roommate had to borrow my car so I can’t meet you at the library. How about  we  study at my place?

Nesta smirked. Gods, he made it so easy.

What’s your address?

Nesta retreated to her room and opened her closet. Glancing at the time, she hurried as she grabbed the most provocative outfit she could find. She threw on a lacy, long-sleeve bodysuit that molded to her every curve. Stepping into a skirt, Nesta had to shimmy her hips to pull the tight fabric up, covering only a couple inches of her upper thigh.  With a couple flicks of her wrist, she adjusted her makeup and fluffed her hair.

Nesta spared a glance at the mirror. She grinned.

There was no way she would be leaving his place without those answers tonight.

Nesta shoved on a pair of booties and gathered her things. She quickly shut the bedroom door behind her.

“Ooooh!” Elain peered over the couch as Nesta beelined for the front door, her heels clicking loudly on the hardwood floor. “Special occasion?”

Nesta didn't respond.

But Elain didn’t take to being ignored.

Nesta watched as she pulled herself off the couch and faced her with a sly grin. “Hot date?”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “I’m going to Tomas’s to study for my exam.”

Elain nodded her head, shooting a look at her that said, Sure, you are.

Nesta ignored her again, not slowing down.

“Should I expect you to return tonight?”

“Mind your business, Elain. I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

“Be safe!” Elain called as Nesta hurriedly walked out of the apartment.

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

When Nesta pulled into his gravel driveway, there weren’t any lights on, save for one on the first floor. She noticed his parked car.

Weird.

Nesta didn’t bother questioning it, though. Her stomach was already a bundle of nerves. Fidgeting in the skintight skirt, she tugged it down an inch so the neighbors wouldn’t look out the window and catch a free showing.

Gods, what am I doing?

Every step she took closer to Tomas's house, the further her heart sunk. It's not like she wanted to do this. But Nesta didn't have any other options. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and she was the one who put herself in that situation to begin with. So it was going to be her who got herself out of it.

You're going to hate yourself if you do this, a voice warned inside her head.

She shoved away the thought.

Even though her heart raced as she approached the front door, her strut was strong and confident. She didn’t falter for a step.

Nesta released a shaky breath and composed herself. She knocked once and the door was already opening.

“Nesta,” Tomas greeted her, eyes roaming over her body. He wore a polo shirt and sweatpants. She wasn’t sure if she shivered from the numbing winter air or his raunchy gaze. Nesta stifled the urge to zip her jacket all the way to her neck. “I’m glad you made it.”

Nesta pushed past the desire to say fuck it. To just go back home and accept the fact that she was going to fail. Instead, she plastered on a charming smile and giggled softly. “Thank you for inviting me.”

He led her inside. As she followed him, she caught a whiff of something strong. Vodka? Rum? She wasn't sure. But it was coming from Tomas.

Why the fuck did he drink when we're about to study?

They walked past the kitchen table. Nesta faltered.

“Aren’t we going to study here?”

Tomas looked over his shoulder with an easy smile. “I figured we could do it in my bedroom. It’ll be more comfortable anyway.”

He didn’t give her a chance to respond as he kept walking. Nesta followed him reluctantly. She wanted to seduce him, sure, but there was no way in hell she was going to fuck him for the answers. She wasn't going to go that far.

“Welcome to the man cave.” He gestured to his room.

Nesta rolled her eyes inwardly. Man cave? Really? Gods, men are insufferable.

When she took a step in, she was assaulted by the overwhelming scent of men’s cologne. She stifled the urge to cough. His room was cramped; there was barely any space to walk. The comforter was brown, along with his pillows and walls.

Nesta hated brown.

The one thing she noticed was none of Tomas’s textbooks were out. In fact, his backpack was shoved in the corner.

“So where -"

Nesta was cut off when she felt Tomas directly behind her.

She spun around to face him. That's when she noticed his eyes. They were red-rimmed and glossy.

He hadn't just had one drink. He was drunk.

“Damn, girl," Tomas leered, taking a step closer to her. Nesta took a step back, trying to keep distance between them. "I thought it was going to take a little more effort than this to get you into my bed, but then you showed up dressed like that."

What the fuck?

“I think there was a misunderstanding –"

“Oh, trust me, I don’t think that’s the case.” Then Tomas's arm was around her waist, pulling her flush against him. Nesta tried to back away, but he only held her closer. His grip was tight. Too tight to shove him off.

“Tomas, no – “

“Aw, you don’t mean that, baby. I see the way you look at me.” His mouth pressed against her ear, his hot breath enough to make Nesta gag. “You’ve wanted this for a long, long time. Just as long as I have."

Nesta scanned his room frantically. There were no windows. His bedroom door was closed. And locked.

That’s when she started to panic.

"Can we just talk for a minute?" She willed her voice not to shake. Maybe if she remained calm, tried to reason with him -

Nesta cried out in pain as Tomas pushed her onto the bed. Hard.

"Please, stop!"

Tomas paid no mind to her pleas as he straddled her waist before she had the chance to get up. Nesta could only look at him with wide eyes as he loomed over her. Fear crawled its way up her throat at the look he was giving her. He placed a damp hand on her hip, his nails digging into her skin. He slid his hand further up, past her stomach until -

No, no, no nononono.

Tomas palmed her breast over her shirt, squeezing so hard that tears spilled over Nesta's cheeks. She tried to kick her legs but he was so heavy, too heavy. His weight was suffocating, her breathing was rapid and her heart was pounding and she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to think; what should she do, what should she do, what should she do -

His lips slammed down on hers. Her cry was silenced. Tomas tried to shove his tongue into her mouth, but Nesta kept her lips closed as she squirmed underneath him and kicked her legs. But he remained on top of her. He wasn't budging.

"Open your fucking mouth," he growled against her lips. Nesta sobbed as she kept fighting to get him off her. He kept moving his mouth against hers, forcefully trying to open her mouth until Nesta bit down on his lip as hard as she possibly could.

Tomas reeled back with a hiss and touched his lip with a hand. When he withdrew it, blood shone on his finger. He glared at her. "You bitch."

Nesta didn't see his palm coming until she felt the sharp slap on her cheek, her head snapping to the side from the sheer force. The wind was knocked out of her. She felt paralyzed, helpless.

Nesta was motionless under him as his mouth dragged along her bared neck. He sucked on her skin hard even to bruise. Another sob escaped her clenched teeth. Her fists were balled tightly, a scream trapped in her. Bile rose in her throat when Tomas rubbed himself against her. She felt his erection press hard against her stomach, and she nearly threw up right there. His hands fell to the fabric of her skirt as he began to hike it up to her hips.

Something within her snapped.

Nesta didn't know what happened next. All she knew was her fist was burning with pain and she was shoving Tomas off her, sprinting for the door, racing through the house. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins as she heard Tomas yell her name behind her but she was too fast. He was too far behind.

She didn't stop running until she fell into the driver's seat of her car. She didn't bother buckling her seat belt as she peeled out of his driveway.

Sometime along the way home, Nesta stopped shaking. Her tears dried. Her heart stopped pounding. Her thoughts disappeared until she was left only with a silent mind and an empty feeling.

Nesta stared at the road in front of her, and she happily invited the feeling of numbness as it flooded into her body.

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

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#bittersweet #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #My writing #acotar #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of war and ruin #a court of silver flames #angst #fanfiction #Fic

[rosesvioletshardy]

life as we know it - b.h. chapter 11

here it is chapter 11, sorry it wasn’t posted yesterday i was busy and hadn’t finished writing the chapter until almost maybe 2 am pst

i really hope y’all like this chapter because i have no clue what i wrote if i’m being honest and i didn’t know how to end it

masterlist

summary: when their two best friends die, it’s up to ben and y/n to take care of their goddaughter and face the challenges with it

# of words: 3,922

warnings: fluff, angst, language

taglist: @myfatbottomedgirls , @evemarie05 , @suckerfor-fanfics

 inbox me or message me if you want to be added to the taglist for the series

---

gif credit: @benhardyispretty

while waking up, y/n felt more refreshed than she has ever felt before. it was most likely for the fact that she felt more free now that she was single. although she did love ben, she still couldn’t confide in where her feelings stood for ben. half of her loved her, but the other half knew she couldn’t. she walked down the stairs to find the house empty besides her, charlie, and frankie. when she reached the kitchen, she saw a note that was taped on the coffee pot from him

went to filming, had to leave early, you can come if you’re not busy. extra breakfast is in the fridge as well as coffee in the pot :)

she smiled at his note and his messy handwriting. when she opened the fridge, she saw 

 for her, it was the little things that for her that mattered like remembering a favorite song of the persons or how they like their breakfast in the morning. today was odd though, y/n didn’t know what they were filming today and ben would’ve usually told her what scene they were filming and what it was about without giving too much away that they weren’t exactly supposed to talk about it to others that much.

---

while y/n was loading up her car, she got a text from ben asking where she was. 

“hey are you on your way?”

“yeah we’re just about to leave”

“alright, you’re really gonna like what we’re filming today ;)”

“what are you guys filming?”

“Ben?”

“hello???” 

“asshole”

she gave up on trying to get an answer from him seeing that he probably had to go film. She got into her car and started it and played some soft music for charlie so she wouldn’t be cranky when they got there.

 ben on the other hand was in his trailer chilling until he had to get called into costume and makeup. he was excited to film today but the only problem he had with this costume were his thighs. he tried to get roger’s physique but he played too much rugby growing up. y/n didn’t do sports much growing up, her parents wanted her to try ballet, she tried soccer for a year, swim for a year, then volleyball for another year, until she realized sports weren’t for her. during that time she also did piano for several years and that was pretty much it for her. she snapped out of her thoughts when out of nowhere she started to pull up to the lot at the studio. not understanding how she managed to get there without getting into an accident, she told the security guard her name and told him she was a guest of ben’s and went inside. 

putting charlie in her stroller, and grabbing her diaper bag, she began to walk around until she found someone she recognized or at least found ben’s trailer. she spent what felt like hours but was only minutes, she just decided to ask someone. walking toward someone who had black, maybe shoulder length hair and a pink shirt and black skirt, she tapped on their shoulder. as the person turned around after feeling their shoulder get tapped, y/n immediately lost it. it was rami, dressed as freddie for the i want to break free music video. she covered her mouth as rami turned around giving her the full view.

“oh my god, you look amazing.”

“thank you, darling” rami said in his freddie voice causing her to laugh

“wait does that mean ben?”

“yes it does mean that. i can take you to him right now if you’d like? he’s getting into his outfit and hair in makeup right now.”

“oh please take me. i think we need to see this.” she tells him as rami began showing her the way after putting his robe back on

“so how’s everything?”

“stressful. as much as i love filming and playing freddie, it’s a lot you know? what about you? how are you and ben doing?”

“we’re doing great. charlie’s doing great. her birthday is coming up soon, you and the guys can come if you’re not busy filming that day”

“we’d love too, she’s already a part of the family.” he said smiling at her

when they reached the hair and makeup trailer, rami went in first to tell ben something 

“hey ben, there’s something outside for you?” “what is it?” 

“i’m not sure, i think it’s some sort of package for you.”

“alright, i think you’re done. you can go, i’ll still be on set knowing that all of you will mess it up.” his makeup artist told them

“thanks, now what was it?” 

ben followed rami outside where y/n and charlie were waiting for him with her phone ready to document what she thought was a  legendary moment. as ben stepped out, it took him a moment to realize that it was her.

“Oh wow, this is great. you look like rogerina. holy shit.” she laughed after taking a few pictures

“i look beautiful, don't i?” ben said fluttering his eyes and dramatically flipping the hair from him wig

“oh yes you do.” she said giggling and covering her mouth

ben reached down and picked up charlie who started whining, not recognizing him that well with the full face of makeup. at this point everyone had started to stare at all of them wondering why a baby was on set and why it was crying. he tried to console her and calm her down and making sure that people stopped staring at them before letting out a deep sigh and doing what he knew would be the only thing that would calm her down: singing. he didn’t sing often and would only do it if he were pissed drunk or if he were putting charlie to sleep or calm her down. y/n loved ben’s singing even if he wasn’t the best. 

“you had your time, you had the power

you’ve yet to have, your finest hour, radio

all we hear is radio gaga, radio goo goo

all we hear is radio gaga, radio blah blah

radio what’s new? radio, someone still loves you” 

as ben finished, all eyes were on him and were clapping but all he could focus on charlie and how her head was now laying on his shoulder as she played with the tie on his schoolgirl costume. he kissed her head and handed her back to y/n when the guys were all called on set and she followed them to watch. she loved every second of them trying to act like the band from the music video. she started to laugh at them, especially when ben landed on joe and he started to hit ben’s butt. everyone was thinking the exact same thing and it was that the boys were having too much fun whenever they filmed scenes like this. y/n loved the way they were all so in character and wanted to make sure they live up to the expectations of the band without fully imitating them. 

ben continued to film till the nighttime and y/n had left home early with charlie seeing that they could sense the director was getting annoyed despite her being in ben’s trailer for most of the time so they could film without any distractions bothering all of them. When they got home, the first thing she needed to do was put charlie down and get them both some food. knowing that ben was going to come home late, she ordered take out for them and got out a jar of sweet potatoes and peas with small bits of meat for charlie. while trying to feed her, started to become fussy and began to spit out everything she was given to eat. 

“Come one girl, there isn’t anything you like tonight?” she asked already getting frustrated

“okay, let’s take a walk around the house, you really seem to like that”

after wiping her face from the spilled food, she took charlie out of her chair and put her down so she could walk around, frankie followed close behind them. while charlie walked around there was a knock on the door signaling that her food was here. paying and tipping she quickly put the food in the kitchen and her wallet back before walking around the house to find charlie. almost losing her by finding her halfway up the stairs, she followed her up the stairs and walking to the family room that was upstairs. y/n hasn’t really stepped in the room that much besides only to clean and dust it. ben has been in it a few times but only to look around. while charlie began to climb the couch to get on it, she found something that was in the tv stand; it was a laptop. specifically lennon’s laptop. she recognized the case cover with flowers all over. 

taking it out, she walked over to the couch and sat down with charlie on her left. she took a moment and stared at it for a few moments before taking it out and turning it on. there were lots of memories that were hard for her to look through before sucking it up and typing in the password. the screensaver started to make her tear up. it was a picture of her, lennon, christian, and ben from one of the days they hung out together. she saw all the files that were for her classes and some that were for memories. 

ben walked into the house and it was all quiet. Not even frankie was coming down to greet him and she always did. throwing his jacket on the couch he walked into the kitchen to find bags of takeout but unopened as well as a plate of food for charlie. still confused, he walked up the stairs to find y/n and charlie cuddled up watching what he thought was a movie on the couch. he walked over to them and set next to her and looked over to find them watching videos from the last couple of years.

“hey”

“hi”

“why you up here?’

“charlie wanted to walk around and she came here and i saw the laptop and here we are” she told him as she wiped away a tear that escaped from her eye

“you miss her a lot don’t you?’ he asked her already knowing the answer. she couldn’t talk so she nodded

“i miss chris too. i honestly miss the way he would dramatically sing the national anthem already pissed drunk. he never could hold his drinks and was always a lightweight dickhead”

this caused the both of them to giggle as a video of lennon was playing the day she gave birth. they remember the day vividly. one minute they were arguing on how they were going to paint the room while christian was trying to finish building the crib.

“remember how much we used to hate each other?”

“i felt like our constant fighting was driving them insane.” 

“lennon felt like she’s seen more fighting from us than she’s seen while teaching.” ben laughed as he picked up charlie and put her on his lap

the video continued to play before it cut to lennon and christian in the hospital as she was trying to control her breathing

“and here we have your mother, looking beautiful as always. we can’t wait to meet you babygirl.” “hopefully you’re not as stubborn as your father.”

“well that’s something she got wrong” ben said as he blew a raspberry onto charlie’s cheek causing her giggle

“that’s your mama and dada sweetie. you would’ve loved them so much. your mama was the craziest person we knew but still grounded and your dada could talk and argue his way out of everything for days. they kept each other grounded and sane.” y/n whispered

“da”

this caused ben and y/n to stop what they were watching and look at her and to each other

“did she just?”

“i think she did. can you say that again baby? dada?’

“da..da”

“oh my god she did it! she said her first word!”

“she really did! christian would be over the moon and bragging that her first words were about him” ben said picking her up and spinning her around

the rest of the night was spent eating their dinner and watching a movie before charlie was nearly passed out. ben took her to bed while y/n cleaned the area up. she knew she was hurting herself by watching more of the videos before she landed on a one that involved lennon, christian, and charlie. it was a few days after charlie was born and they were back home and in her room. lennon and christian had started to argue because she could still smell the paint on the walls and was concerned that charlie would breathe them in. christian had told her that the windows had been opened so it could get the smell out and that he wouldn’t have had charlie in the room if it still have paint fumes. Ben walked in to find her with the laptop again and watched with her.

“you know, we loved playing rugby all the time and i kept getting injured and became bored with it and christian told me about the local drama club and spent almost all the time practicing with me until i went off to drama school. even then he would still practice with me during our exam seasons. he never got a full chance to study because of me and knew that i would make it as an actor and he still managed to be one of the best lawyers in london while still in his 20’s. he didn’t care how cheesy the scene was and always came to support me at my shows whenever he could. i can’t leave him alone when he needs me. and he never left me alone when i needed him. even if he’s gone.”

“i started watching these because i just wanted to hear their voices, see them for a minute you know? when you were putting her down, i found this one” she said pressing play

“ta-da! pretty great, huh? We went with the lavender and the blue sky. When y/n and ben were at the hospital with you, i finished some few touches”

“when did you paint this room?”

“like i said, i finished it the second day at the hospital.i wanted to surprise you.”

“i can still smell the fumes chris” lennon said trying to cover charlie’s nose so she didn’t breathe it all in

“it’s been dry for days now l-” christian tried arguing

“it hasn’t been drying long enough”

“we’re really getting so critical right now. it’s not even wet paint.”

“she’s not sleeping in the bedroom tonight”

“i wouldn’t bring a baby, let alone ours, into wet paint room”

“of course it’s not wet but does it smell for days afterwards?”

“no, it doesn’t. it’s totally aired out. do you know how much work y/n, ben, and i put into this?”

“you didn't do any of this, when have you painted a flower or a cloud this detailed?”

“okay, i oversaw what y/n was doing-”

“she can’t sleep in here, move her crib”

“Of course she can, this is her room!” christian said following lennon out

she then paused the video and ben began to speak again

“so what you’re saying is, that it’s okay that we’re horrible parents and that we want to kill each other half the time but also tend to make out every now and then?”

“Two-thirds, actually. i feel like we should keep doing what you said before. that we stop trying and stop trying to fit ourselves into their lives.” she said

“i actually hate this place. it’s like a mausoleum. there’s pictures of them everywhere. and i really hate that painting up there.” ben told her as he pointed to the cowboy on the wall.

“yeah, he’s really creepy right?” she stated pulling a face of disgust

“if we’re going to live here, we have to stop tiptoeing around like they’re coming back soon.

“well then, let’s get to work.” ben said as he got up and offered his hand for her to take

the first thing they did when they got up was take down the cowboy painting and ben went and put it the garage, specifically where they can’t see it whenever they go down there. y/n looked for pictures of her and ben that they could hang up in replace of the ones of chris and lennon. ben was with her until he found one of them together at the wedding. that was one of the few times they complied and took pictures together. one of them in particular, ben was staring at her like she was the only girl in the world. they both hung up a picture of them at the hospital with charlie when she was first born.

“wait, a little to the left--no no no, a little back to the right--wait right there. perfect” 

ben went back to y/n and put his arm around her shoulder and she leaned in while he kissed her head. they stood there for a few minutes admiring it before deciding to head off to bed. they had a lot to do before a party on the weekend which meant planning and making sure that they knew what they were going to do and it was all scheduled and ready to go. 

---

it was the weekend. which meant a birthday party for a now 1 year old. y/n had make a small cake for charlie in the morning so she could have some fun with it before the actual party. everyone in the neighborhood and joe, gwilym, rami, allen, and lucy were coming according to ben. she felt close with the cast after being introduced to them. she hadn’t met allen until a few days before when they had made a visit to the set. 

“here comes the birthday girl” ben said while he walked into the kitchen as she finished icing the small cupcake for her

“who’s the pretty birthday girl right in front of my own eyes?” y/n asked putting the pipping bag down

ben grabbed a small candle from the cabinet and his lighter and put it on the cupcake and set it on the tray. he took out his phone and began videoing as him and y/n began to sing her happy birthday. he sent the video to her when they finished and posted it on instagram. once he posted it, comments began flooding in wishing her a happy birthday. 

“so what is on the agenda today?” ben asked drinking his coffee

“well, we need to definitely give her a shower because she has frosting all over her. then, we have a couple hours to set up before everyone comes over  at 2, tyler is bringing the cake over around the same time, the face painter is coming over around 1:30 to set everything up, jack and melissa’s flight landed last night and they are going to be here to help soon.” she told him

“wow we are going to properly pass out tonight. this is going to be a lot. is there at least going to be some booze?” 

“yeah, it’ll be somewhere where the other kids don’t mistake it for their drinks-” she began talking before getting cut off by the door opening and closing

“hello? is anyone awake?” a voice yelled

the two adults recognized the man’s voice as jack before melissa scolded him

“be quiet, they could still be sleeping” melissa told them taking off their coats

“no, we’re not asleep. we’re wide awake. Hi jack, hi melissa”

“hi sweetheart. how ya doing” melissa asked rubbing the sides of y/n’s arms

“i’m good, how are you guys? how was the flight?”

“it was good, the both of you really didn’t need to put us in a really fancy hotel, others would’ve been fine.”

“we don’t want to hear it, you both deserve the best after all you’ve done for us and charlie. how are you jack?” ben asked shaking his hand

“good, still retired, still down at the golf course. here’s the birthday girl. my is she getting big.” jack said as ben handed her to him

“she is. she actually started walking and said her first words this month.” she told them as they all moved to the living room and  brought out some coffee for them

the fours adults continued to talk as they recounted memories over time of lennon’s and y/n’s birthdays including the time where she ended up roller skating into the cake. in her defense, she didn’t know how to stop at the time. jack and ben went to set up the grill while melissa started to decorate so charlie could get cleaned up. the weather was fortunate enough for it to be nice and sunny that day instead of cloudiness and rain. 

“y/n sweetie, i need to ask you something.”

“what is it?”

“how are things between you and ben?”

she knew that this question was going to come up sooner than later before everyone came. y/n knew in her heart that it was always ben that she was supposed to be with but her brain was telling her otherwise

“things...are going great. We’ve managed to work some things out. he was with me when i broke up with sean.”

“listen to your heart. your brain will tell you otherwise but it’s truly what your heart wants. if he doesn’t see what a great person you are, it’s on him and i know he’ll regret it later.” 

“thanks mel. i wish i had what you and jack have.”

“please, married 30 years and he always forgets when our anniversary is” melissa mentioned as she chopped up the lettuce for the salad

“men, what would we do without them?” she remarked causing the both of them to laugh

--

the party went better than they thought it would go. the only problem was ben not liking the idea of getting matching face paints but only doing it for y/n and charlie. joe had managed to get a picture of them and posted it. they had convinced jack and melissa to go back to their hotel and told them they could deal with the cleaning. it was quiet in the house now and they felt like they could just pass out and never wake up. she found ben outside smoking and nursing a beer before she went and wrapped her arms around him. he got rid of the cigarette and turned around and kissed her forehead.

“i thought you were going to quit.”

“i am, as soon as filming is over.” he announced before continuing

“’s nice out. wish it would be like this all the time” 

“it is. today was good, i’m glad people enjoyed themselves even after she went to sleep” “yeah the guys seemed to enjoy themselves. same with you tiger.” y/n laughed seeing the paint smudging off of his face 

“hey take a look at yourself too. The things we do for her.”

“i know i make a pretty sexy tiger” 

this caused ben to turn red and start stuttering over his words. all she could was just laugh it off and walk off

“c’mon, let’s go to bed. you have filming tomorrow”

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #ben x reader #ben hardy x you #ben hardy x y/n #ben jones #ben jones x reader #ben hardy fanfiction #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy fic #ben hardy fluff #ben hardy angst #ben hardy smut #roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #warren worthington iii #warren worthington imagine #warren worthington x reader #x-men apocalypse #6 underground #peter beale #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #gwilym lee #joe mazzello #rami malek #lucy boynton #allen leech

[anika-ann]

Grease and Pearls - Pt.3

Dreams Meet Reality

Type: One-shot turned three-shot (because does anyone really want a 17k in one go?)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (main), Tony/Reader, Tony/Pepper

Word count: 3400 or 5100 (yeah, you read it right, see A/N)

Summary: An uptown girl met a downtown guy with a heart of gold. Oh, and he was handsome too. It inevitably leads to their relationship developping… but is there any chance for them at all?

For @cxptain​​ ’s challenge. Prompt: Uptown Girl by Billy Joel

Warnings: swearing (a lot), attempt at angst, ghosting, communication par excellence

A/N: We had fluff and smut. What are we missing? That’s right. Heads up, people! There is an alternate ending to my original one, the one sentence where it breaks is in italics. I hope that makes sense ;) Pick whichever or read both :D Enjoy!

Story Masterlist

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It was bound to happen – you knew as much – but deep in your heart, you had hoped it wouldn’t. You had hoped it would last longer. You had hoped that perhaps a miracle would occur and in some mysterious way, you would be able to convince your parents that marrying you to Anthony was a terrible idea.

You should have known better than that.

The very day you had fell asleep in Steve’s arms after making love – and God, you could still feel him, his touches on your skin, his mouth, everywhere, even in the most intimate places, a pleasant, almost ceremonial ache lingering exactly there, a memory of fire in your belly and your heart – you got caught.

Your parents had been waiting at Potts’ house as you reached it around eleven in the evening, a smiling mess, a sight to behold, and any illusion about the future you had been painting in your mind shattered.

Pepper had tried to take part of the blame, but your parents always believed that you were the faulty daughter in your household and such ways stretched outside your house.

Your father was furious. Your mother was deeply disappointed and even faked a few tears – or perhaps she shed them for real, mourning her reputation, one the family would fight tooth and nail to retain.    

You had literally fallen on your knees and begged when they found a drawing from a street artist, a souvenir of one of your trips to downtown which you had only craved to explore-- and by some miracle indeed, you were allowed to keep it and not to have it torn to shreds right in front of your eyes. Pepper’s teary gaze told you she knew you were making up things up as you went and that the drawing, the one that captured beauty you weren’t sure you possessed, meant much more.

You couldn’t even hope to earn forgiveness, so you only asked for it half-heartedly.

What you did earn was a damn chaperon.

In your age! In this day and age!

Her name was Maria and she was truly efficient and strict to a fault. Nevertheless, she respected your privacy and whenever you were to meet Pepper, she would stand just outside the door and wait if you asked for a confidential conversation… which was always, you didn’t need some goddamned stranger spying on you. What the hell.

But truly, all things considered, you had lucked out; as your parents didn’t fault Pepper for your actions, you were still allowed to meet with her at least and to talk her in private.

However, the marriage plans were sped up.

And naturally, you couldn’t even hope to set your foot anywhere near downtown. You hadn’t seen Steve for two weeks, you hadn’t even found his number in the phone book to explain yourself and you missed him.

Your heart seemed to fail in its basic function; when you were lying in your bed at night, wide awake, it longed after ocean blue eyes with a drop of green, strong hands holding you close, and it wouldn’t stop pounding wildly in your chest. In the morning, your heart appeared to be beating so slowly you had to place your palm over the area to make sure it was still there, that it still had enough strength to keep you upright all day ahead.

And it ached 24 hours a day. For you, for Steve, who must have been clueless on why you never showed up to your set date or any time after. You were hurting and your parents watched you suffer along with your sister, frowning at you and scolding you to stop acting like a five-year old who had a toy taken away.

They could never understand. Was that a curse or a blessing?

Pepper was the only person you could trust, only person you could talk to about your true sorrows and her patience never seemed to wear thin despite her own turmoil – after all, if your marriage was to be sped up… her hopes were being crushed as well.

“Pepper… I don’t want to marry Tony. God, I can’t marry him,” you whispered, a cup of tea in your hands, your palms and fingers curled around the warm ceramics, hoping for it to take away some of the ever-present cold your body radiated these days.

Your friend smiled at you sadly, an honest and heart-breaking lift of the corners of her lips.

“I know, honey.”

You chuckled bitterly at the irony. Here you were, stealing her dreamed man, on she loved, while yearning after another, after the one you loved. You looked up at the ceiling, blinking away the tears gathering in your eyes – again and again, barely a day without their presence. They were always there, ready for the dam to broke so they could run down your cheeks.

When you spoke again, you could barely force the words out of your tight throat.

“I… I truly love Steve. I dreamed tonight, about having a little boy,” you whispered, the image still vivid behind your now closed eyelids. He was so damn pretty, your sweet little boy. “Blond hair, pretty blue eyes full of mischief and such innocent smile with a front tooth missing and I was expecting with another--… I want that. I want to have Steve’s children one day and I want Steve. I need him. It feels like I can’t breathe without him.”

Tender hands reached for your shoulders and pulled you into an embrace, soft and careful, yet very unladylike, not proper for anyone to see in public – at least not here, not in uptown. God, you hated it here. You despised it now, truly. And if that made you an ungrateful brat, then so be it.

“Oh sweety, I know exactly how you feel. I’m so sorry,” Pepper replied in the same manner, comfortingly stroking your arm. She sounded on the verge of tears as well. “But you know what your family is like, they would never accept Steve. As much as it hurts you and me… I’m not sure you really have a choice.”

You swallowed against the lump formed in your throat and shakily breathed in.  

“Don’t I?”

You thought of your chaperon and wondered… just how heartless could she be?

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It was three weeks after his girl’s last surprise visit that had somehow resulted in her and Steve tangled in his sheets when he lost his faith in her and whatever the two of them had had completely.

Three weeks without as much as a glimpse of her or a word, two weeks of not going to bed without few bottles of beer to keep him company, Steve walked into the shop and instantly knew something was wrong.

The usually loud environment full of chatter and teasing was suspiciously quiet.

“Hey guys,” he called out, trying to sound casual. “What gives?”

“Nothing-“ Thor responded swiftly – and way too quickly. Steve rolled his eyes.

“I’m blond but ain’t that stupid. Who pissed in everyone’s cereal? Buck?”

Steve’s best friend looked up from his work, shorty meeting his eyes. The regretful gaze spoke volumes on its own, but the brunet still sighed, tossing the rag in his hands on the nearest hood.

Steve suddenly wasn’t so sure he wanted to hear the news whatever it was. Dread filled his stomach, a feeling that had his gut twist uncomfortably. The blue-grey irises of his friend hid behind his eyelids.

“I… I’ve been in town this morning, Steve,” he explained slowly, cursing under his breath when he took in Steve’s perfectly confused expression, awaiting a metaphorical punch. “Fuck, Steve—I-eh, I saw Carter with Stark and they were-“ The coil in Steve’s stomach tightened to the point of him thinking he might throw up. “-shit, I’m sorry, Steve, they were at jeweller’s, probably picking up a ring.”

A ring.

Right.

Because she was getting married. To Stark. He knew that—he had been, in fact, informed that it might happen at some point.

But no-- like a fool, he had painted an image in his head, stupid and naïve and even found himself thinking about his ma’s engagement ring – once or twice since he had met his stunning uptown girl –, one he had inherited and was planning to give a woman who would take his heart.

Funny how his mind had been purposely leaving out the fact that the very same woman he had given his heart to was the one who could stomp on it and let it bleed on the pavement.

Fuck, he was a complete idiot, wasn’t he?

Steve swallowed against his suddenly dry throat, nodding few times in acknowledgement of the information, lips in a tight line, one corner lifted in an ironic smile as his blood boiled.

“Well… we knew it was comin’, didn’t we?” he remarked and shook his head with a scoff.

God, he was so fucking stupid-

“Steve-“

He waved Bucky off, stalking towards his own station. He dropped his bag, always stashed with clean clothes just in case, to the ground by the counter, hand blindly reaching out. He grabbed the wrench on the top unmistakably, his fingers curling firmly around the metal.

One swift movement, one jerk of his bulging arm and the wrench was sent flying, hitting the momentarily empty chain with an ominous clang that could only hope to echo the mad rage he felt, sizzling in his veins, eating him up from the inside.

“Fuck him!” he roared, the ferocity of his voice startling even his mates who were familiar with his occasional temper.

His breathing turned heavy as he reached for another tool, flinging it the same way, this time hitting the wall, much to his irritation.

Jesus fucking shit-- he was so fucking mad – at her, at himself, at Stark, Stark who thought he could just take and take, greedy asshole, just like all of those uptown snobs that thought they owned the fucking world!  

“Fuck Stark and all of those privileged assholes! I hope they rot in- Fucking! Hell!”

Two more objects Steve didn’t bother to look at flied through the air and hit the chains, the harmless violence not providing him with half the satisfaction he hoped in.

By the time the boss stalked into the shop the check on what was going on – and to yell at his employees to stop fucking around – Steve had been long gone, taking the SHILED bike and driving away until all he could feel was the wind swishing around his head, loud enough to drown out his noisy thoughts.

“Rogers came in sick, we sent him home,” Pietro supplied helpfully, the deadpan expression on Fury’s face telling him that he had none of that shit.

Yet, the bossman sighed and headed back to his office.

“Good, wouldn’t want him to puke all over my fuckin’ garage.”

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She showed up in the shop on week four. Steve was just coming back from a short bathroom break, quickly taking a U-turn when he got a glimpse of her in the overhead door to the garage, wearing black and red elegant dress.

He leaned his back against the separating wall, closing his eyes at the painful jab to his stomach.

Logically, there was no reason for him to be so devastated. He fucked girls before—he liked girls before. So why did he have to be such a missy when it came to her? She was pretty, sure, but there were plenty of cute gals. Steve really tried not to think about the L word they had exchanged, because deep down it had dawned to him a while ago; he was so fucked up because he was in love and then he was dumped by a lady who normally wouldn’t look at him twice, which was something that his brain had been bullheadedly refusing to accept.

“Sorry, he ain’t in today,” Odinson drawled, traces of hostility in his voice.

“Oh,” she sounded surprised and he could picture the gentle confused frown, the slight pout to her lips—shit, those lips tasted like cherry-- "Uhm, do you know when he will be in?”

“Why do ya’ need to know?”

Steve was certain that her frown deepened at Bucky’s words.

“Well, uhm, I need to talk to him, it’s important. Should I come here in few days or-“

“Don’t think he’ll be ‘round here any time soon.”

“Is he alright?” she asked, genuine concern in her voice and it took all of Steve’s willpower not to bang his head against the wall.

Why, just why was she doing this to him? Why would she care?

Now he knew that was cruel to her – he believed that once, she had truly been interested in him – but he told himself multiple times that her looks were deceiving, that she only had been looking for a distraction from her uptight uptown world. Maybe if he told himself enough times, he would start to believe it.

“Ain’t none of your business, princess,” Thor retorted and Steve just knew she winced at the harsh tone, a soft gasp escaping her mouth, that sweet mouth he had  kissed over three weeks ago, sweet, innocent and sinful, the music of her short breaths filling his poor excuse of a loft, keeping him fucking going.

“Nice ring, by the way,” Bucky said nonchalantly.

Steve gulped at that. Yeah, he bet it was; but there was no way Bucky was being polite. The venom dripping from his words was a message on its own.

And she picked up on it, naturally. His –not his anymore, not that she had ever truly been – brilliant beautiful girl.

“Oh. Thank- thank you,” she whispered and Steve had to strain his ears like a creep, catching the crack in her voice; he almost ran out hearing it, ready to comfort her, because God, he couldn’t imagine her crying, salt tears rolling down her rosy cheeks - few had when they had made love, but she had been smiling too.

He was sure that seeing her cry without that smile… it would feel the world was ending. Her eyes were made for shining with happiness, her lips made for laughter-

“The fuck-?“

Steve’s head snapped straight when he heard his boss leaving his office, catching him chilling by the wall, very much not working and instead trying not to break and kiss the woman he loved stupid – no matter how stupid that made him. She was engaged. Promised to another, a much classier man… or at least much richer, Steve didn’t imagine his character being worth a damn penny.

On instinct, Steve put a finger over his own lips, wordlessly begging Fury not to rat him out. The man rolled his good eye – the one that hadn’t been hit by hot oil years ago – and crossed his arms on his chest.

“And—uhm, I see. Tell—please tell him I stopped by if he- and that I am sorry for not coming here for so long. He can leave a message with Mrs.Maximoff if he--- tell him I really need to-- that I would like to talk to him,” her voice trembled a bit as she stuttered, but it was clear she had been aiming for a firmer voice and missed by miles.

“Don’t see why he should want to know, princess, but sure, whatever.”

Fury gave Steve another annoyed look and stalked into everyone’s sight. For a second, Steve panicked – was his boss about to tell on him? – but the bulky man only walked in, a professional greeting on his lips.

“Good afternoon, madam. What can we do for you today?”

“Oh, good afternoon, sir-“

“My name is Nicolas Fury, I own the SHIELD Car Repairs. May I be of service?” he continued pleasantly, a businessman in his heart. And actor in his soul, apparently, because Steve was sure he figured out what was going on from the few words he had heard and from Steve’s cowardice and was now putting up a face.

“Mr.Fury, thank you for your readiness, however I was only just leaving. Your staff was most helpful,” she said, polite and respectful, almost a hint of a kind smile in her tone as if she hadn’t sounded on verge of tears only a moment ago. As if the guys hadn’t been jerks to her, standing up for him and his… ugh, his hurt feelings.

“Very well then. Have a pleasant day. Should I walk you out?”

“I actually already offered to walk Ms. Carter out if that’s alright with ya’,” Pietro quickly stepped in, a voice that hadn’t spoken since she had arrived.

“Thank you for choosing SHIELD Car Repairs, Ms.Carter,” Fury’s voice echoed through the shop, complete silence following for what felt like an eternity.

Steve gulped, knowing all too well Fury was waiting for him to come out of his hiding spot.

And sure enough – the boss’ eye found him the moment he returned. “Mr.Fury-“

“For fuck’s sake, Rogers, don’t pull shit like ‘dat in my shop. And all of ya’ – less chatting, less big-mouthing customers and for fuck’s sake, don’t go jerk into the bathroom now just because a girl in skirt showed up. Get your head in the game… and don’t drop anything on your fucking toes, accidents on a workplace are shit to deal with.”

Steve nodded with fervour, going back to his station, even when he couldn’t say that his head was in the game. No, his head was miles away, with beautiful pouty lips, the sweetest smile and a body to write sonnets for.

When Pietro came back, he didn’t say a word, but Steve could feel him burning a hole in his head with how much he stared.

That night, Steve switched from beer to whiskey, just once, hoping to drown out the sorrow that consumed him at simply hearing her voice.

Two months later, two months of Steve avoiding Maximoff’s diner like a plague and dodging Pietro Maximoff’s attempts to have a minute alone with him, a Good Samaritan left a newspaper on Steve’s doorstep. Steve, utterly confused and bone-tired from the long day at work, lifted it and started flicking through the pages absentmindedly as he went inside of his apartment.

And there, right among the obituaries, were marriage announcements, one single photo from a wedding.

She was stunning in her dress, the fabric appearing as delicate and soft as her skin when Steve had felt it under his rough fingers the day she had asked him to make love to her. A smile, crooked and melancholic, played on Steve’s lips at the memory, her breathless moans echoing in his ears.

In the photo posed a beautiful bride with her husband; and yet, Steve couldn’t make himself think she looked as pretty as she had been when sitting on his bed, misplaced, breath-taking and tempting, as pretty as she had been in the moments of ecstasy he had brought her with his loving; for the first time and for the last time at once.

He abandoned the paper on the counter and poured himself a glass of whiskey, bringing it up, hesitating an inch from his lips.

Eyeing the amber liquid, stirring it in the glass, he recalled a movie he had been to with Buck a long time ago. He had never seen people do it in real life, they certainly hadn’t done that at his ma’s funeral, but it would feel symbolic perhaps; the action of pouring a drink into a freshly dug grave was as outside his reality as the foolish idea of a relationship with her, after all.

Taking the newspaper to his hand once more, straightening the picture, he let himself feast his eyes on her. She was radiant, like sun, like the damn sunflowers on her dress the day he had met her.

Shaking his head, he threw the paper to the trash, picture up. Pouring half the whiskey on it, he buried the bittersweet memory of his untouchable uptown girl;downing the rest, he ignored the burn in his eyes and focused on the one in his throat.

As much as he hated himself for it, his last thought before he fell asleep that night was of her, a minute of wonder if she had ever truly been as affected as he was, at least for a moment; he lulled himself to sleep hoping that perhaps she had.

He dreamed of reaching out to Mrs.Maximoff as she had asked the guys to tell him to do. He dreamed of her being there the next time he came in, with an inviting and yet sad smile, a big-ass diamond on her finger… her cherry-flavoured kiss of goodbye lingering on his lips when he opened his eyes to a new day.

He took the trash out that very morning, adding a half-finished sketch he torn away from his book.

It was the last time he saw her.

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Thank you for reading! Scroll to the end of the fic for notes. ….Or? ;)

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That night, Steve switched from beer to whiskey, just once, hoping to drown out the sorrow that consumed him at simply hearing her voice.

In the night of week four turning to week five, Steve’s eyes snapped open to the darkness of his apartment. Momentarily confused, not remembering a nightmare or anything that would cause him to wake up so abruptly, he groaned when he reached for the alarm clock on his nightstand only to find out it was half past one.

He woke up for no fucking reason barely two hours after he went to bed.  

Furious knocks on his door made him jolt, his irritation only growing.

Not without a reason then – some fucker was-- ugh. People were fucking assholes. He was not getting up from his bed for sure.

“Fuck off,” Steve muttered, lying back down face first, determined to ignore-

His door rattled with the force of the next series of knocks and he growled, scrambling to his feet, shuffling to the door and wiping the sleep from his eyes.

“C’min’, comin’, Jesus, fuck.”

Unlocking and opening the door for a slit, Steve stared at the face of his night visitor, absolutely baffled.

“The fuck, Pietro? Do ya’ know wad time ‘zit?”

“No. Do ya’?” the blond retorted, his voice dripping sarcasm and Steve really wanted to shut the door to his face. It was too early – or late – for Steve to deal with that bullshit. “Pack your bags, Rogers, Natasha has a free room.”

Steve briefly wondered when the fuck the world stopped making any goddamn sense, but opened the door fully for his clearly delusional friend. For all Steve knew, Pietro could be having a stroke, he’d better hear him out.

“Huh?” he hummed, his palms massaging his bloodshot eyes. “Da’ fuck are ya’ talkin’ ‘bout?”

“Natasha? My cousin? Remember her?”

Why the hell was Pietro acting as if it was completely normal to stop by a guy’s loft to talk about his cousin, one Steve hadn’t even met?

Steve sighed, humouring the other man. “Yeah? Married some… general or somethin’? What’s ‘dat-”  

“Colonel, yeah. She’s the one who lives in Baltimore. She got a room for ya’,” Pietro repeated, still not making an ounce of sense.

“The fuck’d I do in Baltimore?” Steve asked tiredly, earning a look that told him that it was fucking obvious. Which it wasn’t really, not to him.

…was this a fever dream?

“Open your own shop, dumbass, or find a spot in some. Make money for that pretty gal of yours and that little cute as fuck babies you’ll make.”

Steve’s heart dropped to his stomach at the mention of you, fully prepared to rip Pietro a new one to wake him in the middle of the night to fuck with him—but  he caught a movement to Pietro’s right from a corner of his eye and his heart leaped right back, suddenly sprinting.

This was most definitely a fever dream. Steve felt his jaw drop, his eyes fixing on the vision in front of him as he entirely tuned out Pietro’s next words.

“She must like you real big if she’s willin’ to sell her family nick-nack to look at your ugly mug every day. And skip town and shit…”

And a vision his beautiful uptown girl was, a mirage his mind must have come up, because there was no way she was standing there, sheepish as always, but instead of her dress, wearing a pair of jeans and a simple red blouse, a denim jacket unbuttoned, hanging loosely over her shoulders. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, threw over her left shoulder.  

And shit, she talked too, which made it appear this was in fact real.

“Good evening, Steve. I am sorry to wake you,” she whispered, leaving him stare at her blankly, dumbstruck, breath stuck in his chest.

“I’ll drive ya’, Dr.Strange’s car needs a test ride. Fury’s payin’ for the gas, by the way, the ol’ bastard,” Pietro continued as Steve managed to only watch the woman he had been missing for the past weeks lower her gaze, her teeth anxiously biting on her lower lip, fingers toying with the edges of her jacket. Hers? “I’ll be back by tomorrow afternoon, even have an hour or two to spare. That’s if you start packin’ now, bud.”

The mention of packing snapped Steve from his trance, all the emotions hitting him like a damn truck. Anger, longing, more confusion, restlessness as his girl was standing only few feet away from him and he couldn’t take it anymore.

He took a hesitant step towards her, ignoring the smirking man clearing his path.

“What—what are ya’ doin’ here?” Steve asked incredulously, his inner turmoil reflecting in his voice. She hadn’t showed up for weeks and now-- what exactly was she doing here? “You- you’re engaged-”

Gulping, she looked up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears; yet, a hint of a smile spread on her lips as she shifted her weight from one foot to another. For the first time, Steve also noticed her shoes, a simple pair of sneakers looking bizarre on her feet.

“To a man who loves my best friend and vice versa, my best friend who has been covering for me whenever we were together before it blew to our faces,” she explained, not daring to raise her voice above whisper. Steve still didn’t understand – not fully, unable to comprehend what was happing on his doorstep. Pietro talking about his cousin, about driving, Fury paying for gas, the woman he still loved standing there as if ready to skip town- “She was too covering for me when I talked to Mrs. Maximoff when she helped me to plan this. Pietro said you would want this as well— but- but if you don’t, I will leave you alone. I-“

The day Steve had met the strange girl from uptown, Bucky hadn’t failed to mention Pietro was the fast one, clearly implying Steve was the slow one.

Bucky should have fucking seen Steve now when she hesitated, unsure of his feelings – he had never acted so fast in his whole damn life.

He crossed the distance in one long stride and his hands shot up to her, grabbing her by her shoulders unceremonially. Before she could react, he pulled her body against his with all he got, claiming her mouth like there was no tomorrow.

He swallowed her yelp of surprise, followed by her happy laugh, feeling tears springing from her eyes, causing him to halt just as she finally started kissing him back.

“But your family-“ he blurted out, interrupted by her shaking her head wildly, hair flying.

“Mr. Ross has an eye on my sister. He is from a good family, of good name, generations of lawyers. My family will do splendidly,” she said with a smile playing on her lips, sweet and watery as tears still rolled down her face – happy ones, Steve believed. He felt the same delight bursting in him, switching from a broody cynic back to the fool in love in no time. “And we might too. We will have each other and I have learned enough to teach—or-- or I can be a waitress if I can’t find another job, it doesn’t matter, just so you are not the only one to-“

God, he loved her. She was so adorable and sweet and was talking about being his and going from basically a modern princess to a damn waitress, because she was willing to be with him whatever the fucking cost, apparently--

And was there really anything else he could do?

He grabbed the back of her neck to connect their mouths again, a hungry open-mouthed kiss, his hand fisting in her hair, because holy fuck, how was this happening, she was here and she was his-

“Alright, alright, smoochin’ later, packin’ your friggin’ bags now, Rogers,” Pietro cleared his throat loudly, sounding only as annoyed as amused. “I have a long drive ahead.”

Later, bags hazardously full and piled up in the trunk and on the backseat next to them, Steve couldn’t stop smiling and yet he felt a pang of guilt, ruminating over everything she was giving up.

She was resting her head on his shoulder, their interlaced fingers in his lap and Steve revelled at the absence of an overpriced engagement ring on her hand, the one from his ma’s securely in one of his bags to take place on her finger one day. She was walking the fine line between the real world and the dreamland, breathing softly to the crook of his neck and she seemed content. For now.

He sighed and pressed what could be the hundredth kiss to her hair that night.

“Doll?” he whispered softly, the question burning on his tongue, the only one he could hope to actually have answered now and not after they would try and started a life together.

“Mm?” she hummed softly, nuzzling into him further, her lips brushing the exposed skin on his throat.

“Why me? You could have any of those-“ snobs “-high-class… uptown guys.”

The smile he felt against his skin had him melt into the seat as he chased away all the grim thoughts about what the future might bring, her regretting her decision and blaming him for her ruined life on top of that list.

“Because I love you, Steve, and you are worth ten of them. My amazing downtown guy,” she emphasized, filling Steve’s chest with the most delicious warmth, his heart swelling, feeling so full it might burst.

He knew she wasn’t just saying that – she meant it. If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t’ have been in his arms right now, heading to damn Baltimore with nothing but her bags, little money and few pieces of jewellery.

“I love ya’ too,” he whispered, this time pressing a kiss to her nose, drawing an exhausted giggle from her lips. Yep, his heart was about to burst before they even reached their destination. “Love ya’ so much. My sweet, sweet uptown girl.”

“Not so uptown anymore...”

Steve chuckled as rather than regret, her voice was filled with relief. “I’m willin’ to put up with ‘dat as long as ya’ stay mine.”

She squeezed his hand, tilting her head up, blinking up at him sleepily and softly pressing her lips to his.

“I think that can be arranged.”

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S.R. masterlist

cxptain’s challenge (check it out, prompts are still available - and who doesn’t like the 80′s?)

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Tags:

@wxstedhexrt, @comicshoplife, @elysianecho, @scentedsongrebel, @orions-nebula, @pies-writes-and-more​, @kayteewritessteve​, @murdermornings, @rinkashirikitateku, @queen-kass-the-writer

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….yes, in the first ending, there might have been a chance of our uptown girl planning an escape and Steve aka heartbroken dummy blew it. But hey, maybe not, perhaps she only wanted to say goodbye like he dreamed of… who knows. 

Aaaaanyway.

You are my hero if you finished reading this fic! Thank you so much for finding time to do that, this one truly was a beast – at least when I consider that it WAS supposed to be a one shot. 

Any feedback is appreciated, as always – good, bad (if constructive), coherent or incoherent, or ‘just’ a like if you enjoyed and don’t feel like putting feelings into words. Thanks again for reading!

#cxp1k #marvel #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x reader #avengers #modern au #80s au #if you squint #forbidden love #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #grease and pearls #anika ann

[zankivich]

The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 13

Merry Chrismukkah or whatever you celebrate, or just happy Saturday if that’s what floats your boat. Shawn is still dumb. Perhaps dumber. But these are my babies and they deserve the best. Just keep that in mind okay? K bye.

*Shawn’s point of view*

The New Year was a wonderful way for very rich people to throw very elaborate parties to tell people how rich they were. In his early twenties, he’s been roped in by the booze and the women and the occasional party drug or two. Something about twenty-four made him crave the serenity of naps, staying in, and home cooked meals. It could have been the maturity of growing up, sure, but he wasn’t exactly that naive. All he had to do was wake up wrapped around her to know that the only thrill he was going to get was by being with her. Y/n was the least industry, industry person he’d ever met. So, when she told him she had no plans to attend not one even one of the many she’d been invited to, he wasn’t disappointed in the slightest. He was happy to stay in. Or so he thought.

They were going to see a movie at this theatre in Manhattan that always showed the upcoming independent films of the year before they ever made it to the indie film festival. He really liked indie films, so y/n bought them tickets for a matinee showing. While y/n was in the shower getting ready his phone began to buzz and he was left without a choice but to answer it for one specific reason. It was his father. Or the Devil. Semantics.

“Yes, dad?” He sighed.

“Your mother is flying in for our annual New Years Eve party. I need you to get her here on time, and make sure she takes the uppers and not the downers this time.”

“Dad, Mom hasn’t been on pills since 2014. Remember the whole rehab thing?” He huffed. “And I’m absolutely not coming to that thing this year.”

“You absolutely the fuck are. The entire senior management team will be here, and I won’t have you make me look bad because you insist on being a child. You’re coming and you’re bringing your mother.”

His hands turned to fists  and he pulled the phone away from his mouth just long enough to curse his father back to hell for once.

“I already have plans, dad!”

“Cancel them! The party starts at nine, I expect you and your mother here by ten at the latest. Put on a suit for Christ’s sake too, none of that skinny jean bullshit.”

His dad hangs up without another world and he collapsed back onto the bed to question how he had managed to be conceived by one of the worst people ever. Really, what were the chances?

“Baby do you wanna do chinese for dinner after the movies?” y/n called from the bathroom.

And that’s when he began to cry.

“Boy, what in the hell is the matter with you now?”

He uncovered his arm from his face to see her standing at the entryway to the bathroom wrapped in a towel and looking as soft as cocoa butter. He really wanted to cry.

“You know the crime shows where the kids kill the parents and you’re like, holy shit that’s fucked up? Well I’m starting to sympathize with ‘em.”

“Sorry, that’s a little too close to white nonsense for me. Why, what happened?”

She stepped over to where he was on the bed and he sat up to fall a little pathetically into her arms. She smelled like flowers and that whole cocoa butter business he was thinking of earlier. Jesus, life was so unfair.

“My dad is making me pick up my mother and go to this stupid fucking new year’s eve party so he can pretend that they haven’t not lived together since before I graduated high school. No options. I’m going.” He reported glumly.

Her fingers were cool from having dried after the shower and she ran them soothingly through his scalp. He nestled himself more firmly against her and tried not to purr too loudly.

“Hmm, well that sucks. I guess there go our plans huh?”

He peered up at her, chin resting against her chest.

“Absolutely not. We’re gonna go see our movie and then we’ll...just go drink my dad’s booze and maybe find a janitor’s closet to fool around in.” He shrugged.

She snorted. “How romantic. I told you I’m not taking my underwear off in a janitor’s closet ever again, Shawn.”

“Who said you had to? I can get creative, baby.” He grinned.

“Of course you can. I think you’re forgetting the part where your dad doesn’t know we’re together.”

“Oh hell, who cares y/n. I’m not going without you. Why would I spend new year’s without my girlfriend?”

“Because...Manny is Satan and would try to ruin my career?”

“Hey, he wouldn’t. Y/n, I swear he wouldn’t do that to you.”

She smiled down at him sadly and scratched at his scalp again.

“I don’t really think you could make that promise, sweetheart. It’s okay. I’m not mad about it. I understand.”

“But I don’t! I want to spend the day with you, not at some dumb party! I had a whole plan about us making love in my bed with the curtains open while the fireworks went on, dammit. I hate him!”

Her chest began to shake and he realized that she was indeed laughing at him. There’s no love in this world.

“This isn’t funny.” He whined.

“It’s a little funny.”

No. Love.

***

“Hmm you look good enough to eat.” She murmured from behind him.

Her arms came to wrap around his waist and she reached up on the tips of her toes to rest her chin on his shoulder as he adjusted his suit. He could not have been less excited.

“Good enough to eat, not good enough to keep me home, aye?”

She rolled her eyes. “You are about as dramatic as they come you know that? I’m trying to keep the peace. Now you just make sure nobody touches what’s mine and you bring your ass home right after that ball drops.”

He turned in her grasp, pulling her more tightly against him. She was in nothing but his sweatshirt and a pair of underwear that surely would make him drool if he stared long enough. He loved her.

“What was it again that’s yours? I just wanna make sure I have all my bases covered when I inevitably get hit on.” He smirked.

She reached quickly for his jaw and tugged him forward so she could kiss him with dominance and love. Why in the entire hell was he going to this party?

“All of it.” She whispered eyes lifting up and down to drink him in. “You call me if you need a reminder.”

He nodded dumbly, lips parted and ready to drool.

“Yea. Okay.”

Leaving her is nearly impossible, especially knowing that he won’t have an ounce of fun the rest of the night. His mum is half way to sloppy drunk by the time he arrives to pick her up and the party's at stifling capacity by the time they arrive. But as long as his dad is happy that’s apparently all that matters. It’s all that ever matters.

“Look you just stand against this wall and I’ll go get you something with bubbles in it.”

His mum only giggled and leaned harder against the wall.

“Okay!”

He goes to the bar and gets her some cranberry juice mixed with soda water. She was drunk enough that it wouldn’t matter, and he was hopeful that by the end of the night she might sober enough for him to get her back to her hotel without incident. By the time he returns from the bar, he sees his dad wrapping his arm possessively around his mother. He starts talking to some old guy in a hat that isn’t doing enough to cover his balding head, and it’s about as sickening as can be. The worst part is that his mum completely plays into it. Her head rests on his shoulder. Her fingers play with his hair. They play the happy couple so well, it almost has him fooled. Almost.

There used to be a day when he would have tried to defend her honor, a day when he thought he was strong enough to fight his dad. He’d gotten knocked on his ass enough times to know that was simply not the case. And that’s how he ended up hiding in a corner with a double scotch texting his girlfriend while everyone around him looked like complete and total jackasses.

Shawn: I miss you. This is dumb. My dad is literally the worst.

y/n: You are so cute when you complain like a sixteen year old.

Shawn: I am delicate, y/n. You cannot be mean to me in my current state.

y/n: You poor, poor thing. What can I do to make it better?

Shawn: Rescue me?

y/n: We’ll see. Go place nice with the fragile men who never lived up their father’s visions for them.

Shawn: I think I’d rather die.

The party really is dead. It’s all the people who kiss his dad’s ass on a daily basis. Most of them were in their fifties or older. It wasn’t even the artists themselves, just the people who made money off of them. If he didn’t know any better he’d say it was his dad’s way of fundraising for investors. And he definitely knew better.

He’s sitting at the bar counting down the minutes until he gets to go home. It’s maybe thirty minutes until the ball drops, and everyone around him is hammered to pieces. He hasn’t seen his dad since he got there, and his mum was probably being dragged around by that asshole as nothing more than a trophy piece. God he wanted to go home. And then the elevator doors opened.

She’s wearing the dress that he bought her after he accidently ripped the other one. It’s black and sleek with a thigh slit that has his lips parting even now. Her hair is tied sleekly up in a bun and the second she steps into the room the entire atmosphere shifts. She’s gorgeous. Every inch of her. They lock eyes from across the room and he just knows that he’s beaming, couldn’t stop it even if he wanted. She’s here for him and no one else, and that means the world to him. She means the world to him.

He orders her her go-to drink and goes to find his girlfriend only to find that she’s already been stopped. It’s one of the guys from his dad’s team. He’s on the younger side, maybe in his early thirties, probably drives an eco friendly car or something. He’s dumb is the point. Dumb. And ugly. And stupid. And talking to his girlfriend.

“You look beautiful tonight. I didn’t expect to see you here. You and Manny don’t really get along.”

She giggled. Why was she giggling?

“That’s certainly one way to put it. But a good old-fashioned rivalry never hurt anyone, did it? Especially not when I win.” She grinned.

“You know…I find that kind of confidence in a woman to be incredibly sexy.”

Her eyes widened and he leaned in to place a hand on her waist. He made sure to step between them before it got that far.

“Vodka cran right?” He interjected pulling her not so subtly against him.

She rolled her eyes but smiled up at him.

“Yes, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Who are you chatting with?”

“Shawn it’s Mike. We--We work together?”

He placed his hand on her lower back barely sparing him a glance as he led her away.

“Oh yea. Enjoy the party Mike!”

“You are not subtle in the slightest you know that?” She laughed.

“Yea, whatever. Only person who get’s to call my baby sexy is me, dammit.”

“I find your possessiveness to be both sexist and oddly stimulating. I will combat my feminist guide and get back to you.”

He snorted. “While you’re at it can you ask the feminist guide what it has to say about your whole, ‘it’s all mine’, shtick?”

“Hmm...you may have a point.”

He leads her onto the dance floor. Dancing is innocent. It can mean anything, and isn’t inherently tied to being in a relationship, so it acts as a safe space for the two of them. The party was too large for him to place eyes on his dad, so he had to just believe that they could occupy space together and be okay. No kissing. No waist touching. Certainly no ass touching. He really had to just hold onto his drink and soak her in. The good news is that soaking her in is better than not having her there at all. So he holds tight to the idea that he could have her there with him.

“You came here for me.” He murmured in her ear. “Why?”

She shrugs her shoulders and shimmies her hips to the beat of a Khalid song, ironically.

“You asked me to.”

“I know but...what about my dad?”

“Your dad is...always going to exist. No matter how long we’re together. If I let him stop me from enjoying New Year’s with you than I’m giving him power over our relationship. He doesn’t get to have that. Only we have that.”

It’s another one of those moments where if he looked back on his life, he could have identified it as a shift in their dynamic. This was y/n pulling down the final brick in the wall. She had chosen him fully and irrevocably in such a way that she was willing to go all in. His dad no longer matter mattered. Nothing really seemed to matter. Because they loved each other, and as long as they loved each other everything else would work out at some point. He had always been hers, but now he got to be her’s in broad daylight. Well, kind of.

They find a corner to shove themselves into away from the crowd. She crosses her legs and shows off more thigh than anyone has the right too, which reminds him that he hasn’t kissed her in hours. And so he sneaks a kiss on her cheek and hides his face in her neck, because he just wants to go home. He really wants to go home.

“I can’t touch you here.” He mumbled. “This is basically my own version of hell.”

She sighed. “Yea, I know. Usually your horniness is excessive, but this party is drier than Milania Trump’s pussy. Sheesh.”

He laughs because she’s funny and it makes him feel lighter, happier. He still doesn’t know how she does it.

“My dad is somewhere showing my mum off like she’s a thing and not a person. To him everything is a commodity, something for him to own and do with what he pleases.” He mumbled reaching for her hand. “I just want you to know that you could never be that for me. I would never, ever treat you like that.”

She smiled softly at him.

“I know. You’ve never treated me with anything but kindness, Shawn. You’re not your dad.”

He nodded. “See I know that, and yet still it feels good to be reminded sometimes.”

“You just let me know whenever you need reminding then.”

“Mkay. I will.”

“Shawn.”

The two of them looked up as his father ascended with his mother hanging onto him, eyes barely open. Y/n moved as far away from him as physically possible. He had to hide his face to pretend it didn’t hurt. It did hurt.

“What now?” He grumbled.

“Your mother is incompacitated. Take her home. Now.”

He stands up immediately, y/n remaining seated in her chair. She played coy incredibly well, bringing her drink to her lips and settling back deeper into her chair.

“Y/n,” Manny dipped his head. “So glad you could make it to our little suarey. Are you enjoying yourself?”

She smiled. “You know I was. I think I enjoyed myself so much that I’m gonna have to take a very long nap to deal with all the excitement.”

He catches the thinly veiled anger on his father’s face at Y/n taking the piss out of him as he reaches for his mum. She was in worse condition than he left her in, her eyes barely remaining open.

“Jesus, dad what did you do to her?” He hissed.

“She’s a grown ass woman fully capable of making her own decisions. Now get her out of here before she embarasses me further.”

“I do really enjoy the playful family banter. It’s sweet.” Y/n interjected. “And not incredibly cliche at all.”

He looked at her with pleading eyes to not make his father any angrier than he already was. If the look on his face was anything to go off though, his father wasn’t ever going to be happy when y/n was present. Manny sent y/n a scathing look before grumbling off to be with the rest of the crowd. His mum on the other hand was practically snoring on his shoulder. He hated the holidays.

“Looks like I’m gonna miss the ball drop. I gotta get her home.” He sighed.

“It’s okay. We can ring in the new year when you get back, okay?”

“Promise?”

She smiled up at him. “Promise.”

“K. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Neither of them noticed Manny watching them from the bar. Nor had they noticed the way he had watched them the entire night. In fact as Shawn was pulling his mother towards the elevator, Manny was calling for the party planner for the event that night.

“Can you look up a name on the guest list for me?” He asked.

“Of course, sir.”

“y/f/n y/l/n. She on there?”

The party planner flicked through the list twice before shaking her head at Manny.

“No sir, I never sent any invitation to a y/f/n y/l/n.”

Manny looked back over at the couch where y/n and Shawn had been sitting. She was already gone.

“Yea, that’s what I thought.”

***

*y/n’s point of view*

The fact that Shawn becomes a regular at Lenny’s Tavern is only a testament to his love for music. He went every Friday it seemed, to the point where he turned out to be a celebrity of the pub. It was his place of joy. You never saw him smile harder then when he was up there with a guitar in his hands. It was a blend of covers and originals, and when he’s up there getting the entire crowd to scream sing “Hit Me Baby One More Time”, you know that there’s something special there. He knows how to command a room, at first with his presence, but now with his talent. Something that could take years to teach an artist, Shawn was sitting there with it by the boatload. And so every night is a little bittersweet, because you know Manny and you know if he has his way Shawn will never get anything more. But, the smile on his face every time he asks you to go is enough to have you taking the forty minute drive out the city on Fridays.

He jumps down from the stage to ravenous applause. The smile and the light in his eye is exceptional. You watch him get stopped by a few women, an increasing occurrence at Lenny’s Tavern, who asked to take a selfie with him. The smile that he puts on for them is more calculated, more mass sex appeal. Honestly, he was a music exec’s wet dream. And not because he’s good at it, but because he does it with this sort of authentic happiness that no amount of money can buy. He’s just got it.

“Did you like it babe? I tried the falsetto on the ‘suit and tie’ cover just like you said.” He beamed at you.

You wrapped your arms around his waist and kissed his nose.

“You sounded amazing. Just like you always do. My baby’s kind of a star.” You grinned.

“Yea, only because of you. Can you imagine my life if you’d been my manager instead of my dick of a dad?”

“You’d be wildly sucessful for sure...But I don’t fuck my clients so…”

He frowned. “Then let’s just stick with this reality, aye?”

“Sounds good to me. Let’s go get me a drink.”

He trailed you to the bar, his hands playfully on your ass and hips. His unwillingness to quit touching you was much appreciated in just about every instance of your lives together. Why go through life not being touched by your significant other? It just didn’t make sense.

“Hey Shawn!” Ronnie, the owner of the bar, called.

“Hey Ronnie, man, what’d you think of the set?”

“It was amazing! You’re always amazing, you pretty bastard, and you know it.”

You peered up at your boyfriend as you took a sip of your drink. His cheekbones were more sculpted than yours and perfectly flushed. His curls were like the swirl of an ice cream cone off pinterest. The fucker really was pretty. Rude.

“Hey, it’s just an honor to get up there man.”

“Really? Cause see I had one of my buddies from Atlantic come see your set and he asked me to give you his card, but if it’s all about the honor then…”

“What?!” Shawn and you screeched in unison.

Ronnie stared at the two of you with a big grin on his face.

“Yea! Same way I got our little Niall to where he’s at. When the sets are good, they come to check out the talent man. And you’re better than good. Here.”

Shawn took the card and stared down at it. You could see the fear, but also the light in his eyes. It was about as tragic as can be.

“No man, I--I can’t take this.” He mumbled handing the card back to Ronnie.

Ronnie refused it.

“Keep it. You deserve it man!” He exclaimed before walking away.

Shawn turned to you with wide eyes and a terrified look on his face that had you reaching to wrap his giant frame up in your arms.

“It’s okay. Hey, don’t stress yourself out. Just don’t call the number.”

“But my dad does so much work with Atlantic. Like five of his artists are co-signed through them. What if he finds out somehow?”

You shook your head. “He won’t cause you’re not going to call...unless that’s what you want.”

“Huh?”

You ran your hands up his arms and over his shoulders trying to quell some of the tension.

“Look I’m just saying that, yea you signed with your dad when you were fifteen but that contract expired the moment you became an adult. That’s probably why he asked you to work for the company the moment you turned eighteen, so that he could retain this hold he has over you.”

He frowned at you. “But...but my music.”

“I know baby. You made a lot of music that means a lot to you, and I want nothing more than for you to have ownice of it. All I’m saying is that if you can’t get the music back, that doesn’t mean you can never create again. It doesn’t even mean you can’t make music for a living. Any label would kill to sign you. I know because I’d be right there fighting with ‘em.”

He released this big breath, face twitching with anxiety. You could tell it was getting to him, that the moment was becoming too much. You didn’t really know how to ease him into it anymore than you already had.

“I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. I wanna go home.”  He mumbled, face red.

“Okay, I can be okay with that. Let’s go home.”

“Can we go to your place?” He asked head dipping down closer to yours.

You smiled. “Of course.”

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

Everything makes sense when they’re making love. It’s something about the way she tastes, or maybe is the vibrations of her moans against his mouth when he kisses her throat. His head is never more clear than when she’s in his arms. He loves her. God does he love her. He wants her to have everything, all of him, infinitely. So that’s what she gets.

“Fuck! Oh my god!” She sobbed.

“You gonna cum for me?” He asks reaching to stroke her clit with his thumb.

She nodded recklessly her stomach tensing, thighs trembling.

“Please. Shawn, I need it so bad.”

He flips her onto her back, hand wrapping around the top of her head for leverage as he lays into her. Her body shakes for him and she claws at his back so hard there will be welts later. But it’s her pleasure. It’s the only thing in the world that matters to him when they’re in this space together. So he keeps moving, keeps moaning, keeps holding on for every second that he can if it means she’ll stare at him like he just blew her mind. He always wants to blow her mind. And she bursts for him like an overripe fruit in the summer heat, and he makes sure that he’s right there to slurp it up for her.

“I love you.” He groaned into her ear. “I love you so much.”

The doorbell ringing is literally the last thing in the world that he wants to hear. She’s still panting against his neck and he’s just supposed to get out of bed?

“Let it ring.” She mumbled lips tracing his nipple.

“Oh. My. God, woman.”

She giggled and the result was something so cute and soft on her face that he could feel his exhausted body peak in interest. The line between whether to dominate and whether to cuddle  deeply into the sheets got more blurred by the second with her.

The doorbell rings again.

“Jesus Christ.” He muttered.

“Fuck...look just go answer it. I have to get ready for work soon anyway.”

He immediately began to pout.

“But baby...I didn’t finish my moves.” He whined.

She snorted. “You finished just fine for me, dear. Go get the door.”

He does what she asks. But not without whining the entire time dammit. She puts on his Jimi Hendrix t-shirt and walks off to his kitchen without underwear or a bra. Whoever was at the door probably deserved to die. He didn’t make the rules.

“This better be good!”

He yanked open the door to see his dad standing there with two starbucks cups in his hands and the grin of Satan.

“Dad.” He mumbled. “What--what the hell are you doing here?”

“It’s time to talk to son.” He smiled making his way past him to get into his apartment.

Oh for fuck’s sake.

“Look now really isn’t the time!”

“On the contrary, I don’t think there could be a better time. Ah! Good morning y/n!”

Sure enough there she stood in the middle of the room where the living room met the kitchen with a pan in her hand and the fear of god in her eyes.

“Y/n my...dad is here.” He stated glumly.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’d managed to catch on, Shawn.”

“As much as I do enjoy watching the two of you prance around with no pants on, I think it’s time to get dressed. Shawn and I have some things to discuss. Take your time. I’ll wait.”

The room is dead silent. Y/n is looking at him like she’s contemplating hitting his dad over the head with the pan. Honestly, it’s not the worst visual he could come up with. Instead they walk side by side back to his bedroom. His hands are shaking and he tugs anxiously at his hair as he watches her get dressed. It’s impossible for him to wrap his head around this moment. Ten minutes ago they were making love, and now his dad knows about them. Just like that.

She tugs her shoes on and reaches for her keys and his heart spasms painfully in his chest. He’s got no choice but to reach for her.

“Hey,” He whispered hands still shaking as he gripped her waist. “I--I don’t know what’s going on right now. I’m freaking out y/n.”

She nodded. “Me too. It’s gonna be okay though. Just come to my place when it’s over. Whatever it is, we can work through it, y’know? That’s what we do.”

“I love you. More than anything. You know that right?”

She smiled at him sadly and ran her fingers through his hair to scratch at his scalp. It was the most calming gesture he could think of.

“I know. And I love you too. It’ll be okay. I wish I could be here with you in this, I do. But we’ll figure it out. I promise.”

He nodded solemnly letting his shoulders drop as she released him.

“Yea, okay.”

The last image he gets of her is when she walks through his front door without looking back. Her head was high, shoulders back, a lot like the first night he met her. Only now he knew better. Now he knew it was a part of her no doubt, but a constructed one too. With the presence of his dad, she suddenly needed to be a version of herself that no one could touch. Not even him. And so the last good image he gets of her is a version of her that’s not his, not hers. It exists outside of everything that they’ve become together in the months of their love. It’s a protective shell put up to hide. That’s the last image he gets.

***

*y/n’s point of view*

He doesn’t come over. And he doesn’t call. At first you thought maybe something happened. Maybe Manny shipped him off to Novasokia or some shit. But a woman left to sit in her apartment for hours can only come up with so much. By the time it was dark out, you got the feeling that he wasn’t coming over. All your text messages and calls had gone unanswered. You worried sick, and sad as all hell. You skipped work to wait around for him, and then couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but lie there all day. So when he doesn’t show up it’s a day wasted. And when you wake up the next morning to nothing? Not a facetime, an emoji, not even a fuck off? Your heart just sort of breaks.

“Hi, uh. I don’t really know what’s going on. And I don’t know what he could have said to you to make you not come over but...I’m scared, Shawn. I--I miss you. And I just want to know that you’re okay. Please call me. Bye.”

You showed up to work an absolute nervous wreck. It had taken you all morning to convince yourself not to go over to Shawns’ apartment. If he really didn't want to see you, then you probably owed that to him. The rational part of you was trying to come up with a solution. So, you convinced yourself that Shawn must’ve gotten into a really terrible fight with his dad and he had gone off somewhere to play music and blow off steam. It wasn’t the craziest scenario. In the time that you’d known him, Shawn had definitely fled the world to hide in a room somewhere with his guitar. This was just the first time, he’d shut you out too.

You walked onto the floor of your office and Tiana was waiting there with a hot tea for you and a very sad, anxious look on her face. It just so happened that you didn’t have the emotional capacity to deal with anyone else at the moment.

“Hey Ti,” You mumbled. “I just need the day okay? I’m gonna go work on some stuff, but I really don’t want to be bothered.”

“I know sis but… you’ve got a visitor.”

Your eyes widened and quickly moved to get to your office.

“Is it Shawn? Did he say anything to you?”

“Y/n it’s not Shawn!” She called after you. “It’s Manny.”

You froze where you stood peering at your office door with confusion.

“What?”

“He was already here when I got here. He said that he had something to tell you, and that you’d be interested in hearing from him.” She explained. “But, I can kick him out if you want. I--I didn’t know!”

You swallowed and turned back to your friend.

“No uh, it’s okay. I’ll just...I’ll go in there.”

There’s a moment where you stood outside your office and took a huge breath. The truth of the matter was Manny had scared you for years. In the midst of your come up in the industry there were plenty of men who didn’t like you. Didn’t like your ideas, didn’t like your success, didn’t like your unwillingness to bow down to them. That you’d grown used to. But Manny seemed to feel all of those things at a level that no one else did. And while plenty of men would be happy to see your down fall not too many of them would actively participate in making it happen. You had known from the day you met him that Manny was the guy who would.

Falling for Shawn hadn’t gotten rid of the fear, but what it had done was shift your priorities. Whatever was on the other side of that door needed to happen, because you needed Shawn in your life. You loved him too much to be without him, and he loved you too much too. You knew that. You had to believe those two facts or none of it mattered. So you schooled your face into the mask that you’d created long before that day, and you walked into your office to meet it head on. Because there were no other options.

“Manny, I wasn’t sure if you knew where our office was located.” You smiled upon entering the room. “I always figured it was too urban of a space for you, not enough upper east side, ya know.”

He sat on the edge of your desk a lot like Shawn had the first time he’d been there. If there was anything to be said about the resemblance of the too, it was that Shawn did look a lot like his father.

“Well you’re right about that, y/n. I don’t exactly slum it unless I have too. I figured today was a good enough occasion.”

And subtle racist remarks all before ten am. This ought to be a treat.

“What do you want, Manny?”

You sat down at your desk and of course he immediately stood up so that he could tower over you. Men. So incredibly predictable.

“It’s over y/n.”

You rolled your eyes at the dramatics.

“And do tell, what exactly is over Manny?”

“Whatever hold you had on my son. It’s done with.”

“Ahhh. That’s what this is about. You’re upset that he started thinking for himself, and that his hands were no longer glued to your ass. I’m sorry but that has nothing to do with me. He’s a grown man; he thinks for himself.”

Manny stuffed his hands in his pockets and began to walk around the room. In retrospect Shawn was just about as dramatic as his father, just less evil.

“I should’ve known when it first started that you’d dig your claws into him. His rush to get me to introduce you two. The sudden trips to Rome on my jet, of course. The push back at work. His disappearing all the time.” He sighed. “I just thought angry pussy was better pussy or something.”

Your anger gets the best of you and a break appears in the mask.

“Excuse me?”

“Well you two really just weren’t subtle at all now were you? Which was fine at first. I’m sure you’re perfectly fine in the sack y/n, but it’s not like he’d ever marry you into the family. But then you started putting your nose where it didn’t fucking belong. That stint at the pub where we found Niall. Did you really think I wasn’t going to hear about that?”

You were absolutely rattled inside, varying on disgust and rage alongside a kind of fear you hadn’t experienced in years. But you couldn’t let it show. You’d rather die than let it show.

“He’s talented. He’s the best I’ve seen in years and I’ve got three of this years top artists under my belt. To block that? To keep him hidden because of your own inadequacies? That’s pathetic and you know it.”

Manny chuckled. “Your generation is so incredibly naive. That’s business, honey. Shawn can do more for me outside of the spotlight than he can inside it. It’s as simple as that.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake. You old wrinkly white men and your archaic understanding of the world. That’s not business, that’s greed. That relentless, self-indulging, disgusting greed you sad, sad little man.”

The smile on Manny’s face dropped as well as the temperature in the room. You were without a doubt one of the only people in his life to challenge him. He didn’t like it at all.

“And what about what he wants? Doesn’t that matter at all?” You asked. “Doesn’t anything but your own self-interest matter to you at all?”

“Not even in the slightest. But it’s okay now. I’ve shifted my narrative in part because of you. So I thank you for that.”

“Jesus Christ you know you sound like a villain straight out of a Spy Kids movie, like at all times? Will you just get to the fucking point?”

“I’m gonna give Shawn his masters back.”

You paused. “What?”

“Yep. All two hundred songs. There his. He can do with them what he pleases. He’ll resign a contract with me of course, and I’ll give him the career he always wanted. He’ll realize that he’s nothing without me. And everyone lives happily ever after.”

“I’m just supposed to believe that a plan you cooked up when he was fifteen years old is over now? Just like that? What’s the catch here?”

Manny snapped his fingers and moved closer to you.

“Oh that’s right. My apologies. The catch is that he has to break up with you.”

At this your stomach and your heart and everything in between just dropped.

“What?”

“You heard me. Shawn can have everything that he’s ever wanted, every song he’s ever written, just as long as you’re not in the picture.” He smiled. “I know my son, y/n. And he will pick correctly and you will be but an unpleasant memory.”

It just ripped you to shreds. It was the culmination of everything that you knew about Shawn, and everything that you loved about him, being exactly the thing to take him from you. And it hurt. You were left utterly defenseless as if he’d ripped your carefully crafted mask right from your face. Your eyes watered, your throated tightened. This was it. This was the end. Manny had banked on your willingness to know Shawn, which meant he knew that you loved him. And perhaps that’s the part that hurts the most. That someone could take the goodness of your heart and use it against you in such a malicious way.

“Why...why would you do this?” You asked.

And he shrugged at you.

“I like to win y/n. And I always win. This time will be no different. And I’ll make sure of it.”

He left the room just as the tears spilled over your cheeks. Because in order for Manny to win, someone would have to lose. He had made sure that only one person would come out of this scathed. You lost.

***

Seeing him on the other side of your door makes the gaping hole where your heart used to be throb. His curls are wilder than ever. There are bags beneath his eyes that are unlike anything you’d ever seen. He looked exhausted and sad and really beautiful even then. When he sees you he pulls up a smile that is so pathetic it hurts. But, it’s honest. It’s him giving all of himself to you, even when there’s damn near nothing left. To look at him now was to be in pain. And so you had to remind yourself that preservation was a Black woman’s armor. It was all you had left.

He smiled sadly as you leaned against your door not inviting him inside.

“Hi.” He whispered waving in his favorite clappy hand like motion that usually made you smile.

Not today.

“Hi.”

“I can explain. And I am so, so sorry that I disappeared but--”

“There’s no need.” You interrupted.

He shook his head. “No, y/n, I swear to you that I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just needed time. I needed to clear my head and my fucking dad he--”

“I know. Shawn I know.” You mumbled. “He came to my office.”

Shawn’s eyes widened.

“He did what? What did he say to you?”

He reached for you and you stepped further behind the door causing Shawn to pause and stare at you. His face began to shift just as the puzzle pieces slid into place. As your lip trembled he raised his hands up in the air in a motion of defenselessness, as if he was waiting for you to spook and disappear at any moment. If only he knew.

“Y/n what’s going on?” He whispered, eyes wide open and scared. “Why won’t you let me touch you? W--Why can’t we go inside?”

You closed your eyes and breathed but it was pointless. The tears came in abundance now. His hand touched your cheek and you wished that it didn’t soothe you. Wouldn’t this all be easier if he didn’t soothe you so well.

“It’s over, Shawn.”

“What?” He mumbled, completely frozen into place. “What?”

You swallowed.

“It has to end. You and me, we’re done.”

“What are you talking about right now? Are you kidding me?” He sputtered. “I--love you. I love you with everything that I am, how could you say that to me?”  

You shake your head to try and dispel some of the sadness with the hopes that you could even get through this whole. The problem was you already felt yourself splintering, and the more room you gave him to fight, the more damaged the both of you would be.

“I’m sorry, but that doesn’t matter right now.”

You can tell by the look on his face that you’re crushing him. This fact only ruins you further, only make the pain sizzle deep in your gut. You’ve got nothing left to give. You’ve gotta give it all to him so that he can go on and be okay.  It’s for the best. It has to be.

“It does matter?! I love you! And you love me. And it doesn’t matter? Why are you doing this?!”

“Because  it...it’s the only way to give you everything you’ve always wanted. And I love you enough to give you that. Goodbye Shawn.”

“Y/n, wait can’t we please just--”

You close the door in his face. Everything is blurry around the edges. You sink down to the floor and cover your ears as if it might cover the sounds of him pounding on your door. The two of you cry and sob for the other. You knows there’s no fixing this. It’s done.

***

Tag List

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Arrangement Taglist:

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#shawn mendes #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes fandom #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x you #shawn mendes x black woman #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes x black oc #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes series #dom!shawn #sub!reader #Arrangement fic

[nachohypno]

The Daylight Club Ch. 1 - This is my life

This is an indirect sequel to “William and the demon”, so I recommend checking that one out first before starting this story.

-----

‘Wednesday already’ I sighed.

After opening a can of energy drink, I dropped half of it in my mug, then filled the rest of it with coffee.

I couldn’t sleep last night. Bah, it’s not like I couldn’t. I definitely could if I tried to. “I didn’t want to” would be better in this case.

As I finished my mug of ‘killer mix’ as we liked to call it, I ruffled my brown hair to make it look cooler, then washed my face.

I grabbed my phone, to check the time, then blocked the screen after that.

“You’re a great leader” I said to myself, staring at my reflection on my phone’s screen while flexing one of my arms and admiring my biceps, before putting the phone back in my pocket.

I grabbed my school bag and went downstairs, hoping dad wouldn’t hear me. As I opened the front door, I noticed Bobby was waiting for me on the doorway. It was a normal thing for us to walk together to school by now.

He lives across the street, and he was my best friend, so I didn’t see harm on going together.

“Donnie!” Bobby said, extending his fist for a bump. My classmate was wearing a hoodie as usual, with some light blue jeans. We were the same height, but he was better built than me. Pros of boxing in your free time, I guess.

‘I should start boxing too’ I thought ‘May come in handy sometime’ But honestly, I didn’t see me training anytime soon. I wish I could, but there was no time for that. Besides, I was too tired, may as well fell asleep in a wrestling mat.

“Hey Bobby” I said, as we fist bumped and started walking. School wasn’t far, but this wasn’t a big town, nothing was far. I wished we had some kind of vehicle though, that would save us so much time…

“You seem off today, everything alright last night?” Bobby asked. Honestly, last night had been a great one, besides of one loss we had, but it was alright. Much less than what we usually had.

If everything went according to the plan, our mate should be back at school today, barely remembering last night.

I yawned, before answering “Yeah, just… things get weirder every night that passes, y’know? I don’t know If we’ll be able to keep going if we don’t change our tactics”

As we arrived to the school, I noticed there was a guy wearing a dark green polo shirt tucked in his khaki pants. He was giving pamphlets to other students, I noticed one in the floor, it was for the variety show. ‘There’s another variety show?! Geez, these assholes sure have a lot of free time’

He was one of my friends, and a former club member.

“Pat’s been acting weird all week. Are we still trying to get a cure for that or we’ll just focus on beating those stupid gods?” Bobby said, almost whispering.

“Patrick, my friend” corrected the preppy guy, coming closer to us. Apparently, he noticed us too as we stared at him. “I don’t go by ‘Pat’ anymore”

“Cool, you talk to us now?” I told him, in a very annoyed tone. The lack of sleep and my anger was getting to me; I should calm down before things end up badly.

He looked around before answering “My parents don’t want me hanging out with you. They say you’re problematic, and I think they’re right, man” I rolled my eyes “Look Brandon, just stop leading that stupid club and we may be able to be friends once—”

“Why don’t you go get fucked by your daddy, Pat? And I’m Donnie, not Brandon, asshole.”

My former friend frowned at my aggressive answer, but that wasn’t going to stop me. Got worse stuff to deal with rather than a mind-fucked asshole. “Why do you have to be that rude all the time?” He said, handing Bobby one of the pamphlets and walking away.

“Man, you sure you don’t want to sleep for a while? You can tell the nurse you’re having headaches and she’ll let you skip a few classes” Bobby put the pamphlet on his bag. We usually participated on the variety show, but we usually didn’t have to deal with weird stuff at night.

“I’m…” Yawn “…Fine. But I think you’re right, may ask for a little nap later” I told him.

If I had more nights like this, I would probably end up passing out at school.

Hmm… I should explain what was that all about with Pat and “the club”.

First of all, there’s a secret club in this town. We call it ‘The Daylight Club’, because ‘we crave the light of day to be safe’ or some shit like that. Don’t ask me where does that corny line came from, Molly came up with it.

It’s kind of poetic, if you think of it, but it’s true. We are safe during the day, and our lives return to being… somewhat normal again.

It was started not long ago, two or three months ago, maybe? Or at least, we noticed it a few months ago.

One random night, adults around the town started to sleepwalk at night. At the beginning it was already strange, but when parents started acting even more strange is when the club started his own doings.

You could say that the whole high school knows about the club. Students can choose if they want to enter, or they prefer to stay out. We can’t and won’t force anyone to join.

The dangerous parts are for the seniors though, my class.

Freshmen and sophomore students or younger ones can NOT, BY ANY MEANS, go out to the streets at night. And if so, they have to be in a life or death situation, but that would never happen.

The shape and the sleepers don’t seem to care about them, probably because they’re too scared to move from their beds when they hear noise at night.

Juniors are the next on the line for leading the club. They can enter the hideout, and they can go out the streets at night, with a senior supervisor. They CAN’T, by any means, get seen by the sleepers. We take the safety of our members very seriously.

They shouldn’t even be involved in this, but the more the merrier, I guess.

Seniors, that’s where I come in. Well, me and my class. Most of my class.

We are the ones that are most in danger, since we have to be actively out on the streets, trying to check on everything and setting the pieces together to save the adults, and the town.

What do I mean with “being in danger”?

The definition of nightmare fuel, the shape.

It’s not an artistic name or something like that, it’s a real creature. We can’t see it, we have to close our eyes to see it, and even then it’s just an orange shape running towards you.

Pat… Patrick, my former friend, got dragged by it two weeks ago. Three times in a row.

We thought he was dead, to be honest. He disappeared for the whole night and the day afterwards.

His behavior changed drastically after his ‘resurrection’.

Wearing awful polo shirts tucked in his pants, stopped hanging out with us… Yeah, he got mind fucked. I know my best… former best friend too well to know he wouldn’t do some of the stuff he’s been doing lately.

A few more mates were mind fucked like him. Pat was the first one, but then the shape took it as its objective to drag as many of us as possible. Like it probably did with all of the adults.

Should we be more secretive about the club’s existence? Probably, but the adults don’t care about us.

We use drama club as a façade to reunite at school and talk freely about our plans, without anyone overhearing.

Funny enough, as soon as someone gets mind fucked by the shape, they want to step out of the club. I assumed they weren’t interested on spying for their evil overlords.

Speaking of which, I should explain a bit more.

Gods, voices, whatever you want to call them.

They’re invisible, no matter if you close your eyes or not. They can whisper things to us, or send messages while we keep our eyes closed. Some of us even had dreams where they talked to us.

I’m sorry if it sounds like the ramblings of an attention seeking senior student, but it’s really not. I don’t really care if someone tries to tell the adults about the club, they won’t believe it.

They don’t even believe the existence of the voices, or their sleepwalking behavior. We even tried showing video footage of the sleepwalkers to them, but their eyes glaze over and they dismiss us like some kind of troublemaker kids.

That’s why I’m the leader.

I’m the most problematic guy around, not proud to say that. I’m not walking around the town stoned, or going around doing harsh vandalism.

Our main enemy seems to be looking out to have complete order in our society. I manage to keep the opposite. Free will, chaos, noise, everything that can have them one step away from their victory, we try it.

And the shape never was even close to getting me, and I’m the one who sinned the most overall.

I think the most serious sin I’ve been accused of was “Murder” (Which totally wasn’t, I just pinned down a guy who was attacking one of my friends, and knocked him out with a tranquilizer dart.

Another adult found him, and reported him as dead just because the dude wasn’t moving an inch. Then he got up and started patrolling again a few minutes later, but it was already too late and the shape had been summoned.

The shape seemed to be after a different person every night, that’s why we try to go out in small groups.

Four is the ideal number, but sometimes we have less members around.

Breaking into another person house, fighting against the adults when they try to subdue us, make noise at night, etc. Everything counts as a sin, and I’m the less careful guy of the bunch, I guess.

You just have to be quick and think fast, be faster than the sleepwalking adults and the shape, and it won’t even see you getting away.

“Dude?” Bobby shook his hand in front of my face. I must have zoned out. “You really need some sleep; I’ll take the lead tonight at the club. Last-Laugh told me some curious and funny facts about…”

“You should stop talking to it, we don’t know if we can’t trust them at all” It was a common practice at the club, and sadly, there wasn’t a way for me to stop it. I could only say my opinion: The voices weren’t to be trusted.

“C’mon, man. You’re the king of chaos, and you’re afraid of a prankster like him? He always makes me laugh, even when he just tells dumb jokes. It’s like some kind of superpower he has”

King of chaos. That was a good title, never heard it before.

I shrugged “You asked for my opinion, and I gave it. Do whatever you want with it”

Bobby frowned at me, and folded his arms. “I hate when you get all edgy, you know that-” He got interrupted.

A girl grabbed him from behind. Molly, she was at the club. A senior member of the daylight club and the president of the drama club. She’s the one who offered the drama club as our base of operations

“What did you do to Pat?” She asked me “He’s been really pissed after he talked to you two, you know we can’t mess with him when he’s acting all weird like now. He’s unstable and he can take revenge at any time”

Just like she interrupted my best friend, I interrupted her “He’ll be more unstable after I break his jaw, I won’t stand here and let some random dude order me around”

Bobby sighed, placing a hand over my shoulder and looking at Molly “It’s okay, he hasn’t been sleeping properly. Donnie was about to head to the nursery, right dude?”

I wanted to complain, but he started pressing my shoulder and I got the message very clearly. ‘Do as I say, or you will be the one with a broken jaw’.

I would retaliate later, but he was right. I was tired as fuck.

I wasn’t mad at him; it was very hard for me to get mad at Bobby. I couldn’t get mad with Molly either. In these weird times, you can’t afford being mad with your allies.

“But wait, before you go” Molly started “I’ve got a dream last night, I thought I should tell you guys” She said, lowering her voice.

Bobby and I exchanged looks before looking back at her “What was it about?” My bro asked.

“A kid prayed to one of the voices, but I couldn’t get which one it was. Probably a freshman? I dunno.” She shrugged “The voice was Dance-for-them, I recognized her cheerful voice. She told the guy that he shouldn’t be scared as long as he had music around, and that something nice would happen for the club kids tonight”

“Could it be some sort of new mission? Or a clue about our mind fucked classmates and parents?” Bobby asked, excitedly interrupting her.

“Do I look like a gypsy with a crystal ball?” I told him, pretty annoyed. “It’s maybe some normal thing, right? Doesn’t really *have* to mean anything. Just a dream because we live in a fucking nightmare”

“Language” the janitor said, as he passed by.

I frowned at him, and looked back at my pals. “But Donnie, we should at least be on the lookout for tonight. If nothing happens, then we go back to the hideout without anyone ever noticing, but if something happens… better be ready, right?”

I shook my head in denial. “No missions tonight, and that’s the last word—“

Bobby chuckled and grabbed me by the shoulders, pressing strong to make sure I wouldn’t complain. “Alright bro, you’re going to the nursery. I’ll catch up with you in a bit, Molly!”

Skipping first class… Well, here I go.

-------

The day passed by pretty fast. I almost didn’t enter any class with the excuse that I went to the nurse’s office and took a long nap.

And now… it was nighttime, and I was back at home.

I took dinner with me to my room and avoided my dad. I wasn’t on the mood for ‘family time’ tonight.

After I finished eating, I tried to go straight to bed, but I wasn’t tired at all. Sleeping seemed impossible.

I looked around. My room wasn’t THAT big, but it was cozy and I liked it. A pair of customizable dumbbells on the floor which sometimes made me trip and fall. My mission bag hanging from the closet door, next to my school bag. A few posters of horror movies, those made me laugh.

Now, my life was a horror movie itself. Imagine how a poster of this horror movie would look. Probably with me shirtless, abs tensed and holding a grappling hook while running away.

I looked at my computer, I could jack off, but I wasn’t too horny. I mean, it’s always a good time to jack off, and I’ve got a nice gay porn collection on my computer, but I was just like… meh.

I laid my body on the window frame as I looked outside.

Adults wandering the before-empty streets.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Molly’s dream. It was normal, even if she was excited about it. Every kid of the daylight club had weird dreams, and also lose track of time sometimes.

I woke up on the middle of the street once, covered in mud. And I almost get passed over by a car.

This was going to be a stupid idea, nothing good could come from those stupid voices. There’s no way they could help us in any way, without wanting anything in return.

I couldn’t sleep, and decided to make a video call.

It was a rest night, but I knew that at least Bobby would be awake. On the other side of the street, I saw the lights on his room were on.

It would be good to talk to someone instead of just look at the chaos- no, sorry. “Order” around my house, with mind fucked adults whispering and patrolling the neighborhood.

The Shape was nowhere to be seen. Which made sense. The club wasn’t out tonight, that means nobody is ‘sinning’ around town.

I grabbed my phone and unlocked it. “CHORUS Communities” was written on the back of it.

I suspected- No, I KNEW they had something to do with the ‘sudden’ appearance of the voices and the shape. The ‘sudden’ part being still under investigation, because there was this theory that they were always there. Watching, waiting. Around us at all times and we were just oblivious to them.

Look, my town is isolated from the world.

No Wifi, we have a special local thing. We could call other townies, but not anyone on the outside world. Since I’m still a student, and most of my club members also are, we can’t leave town without explicit permission from our parents, which they would never give.

No TV, unless you count the local channels.

No exits.

I turned on the phone and video called Bobby, who lives at the other side of the street.

“Bro!” He shouted at me, after answering the call. As I suspected, he was awake. I think I caught him preparing himself a joint. Lucky fucker.

“Seems like you don’t want to sleep either, huh?” I said, smiling at the camera.

“Huh… what can I say, Donnie? You know good ol’ me” He placed the camera on his desk, in a perfect spot so I could see him preparing his thing, while he was fully visible too. “Free nights are some of my favorites. No chases, no sleepers besides my mom patrolling around the house, but she doesn’t enter my room”

As I said, Lucky fucker.

“Hold on, bro. Gonna head there” I said, turning off the lights of my room and grabbing my night bag.

That’s where I put all my club stuff. A bandage, my grappling hook, a quick snack and a few firecrackers.

“B’ careful!” Bobby said, before I finished the call.

I passed through the open window, and set my feet straight on my rooftop. I walked to the edge and slowly climbed down.

Just cross the street, right? Piece of cake.

I grabbed my phone from my pocket and started to record, this just turned into a club mission.

“Donnie Thompson here” I mumbled to the phone, just to set the record. The club members had to record the happenings during every expedition at the curfew. Good thing about CHORUS phones, they have a good camera.

I looked around as I walked through the street.

I reached Bobby’s doorway. But, instead of going through the main entrance, I gave a few steps back, jumped and grabbed the cornice.

He opened his window to let me in and I climbed to the rooftop. “Heyo, bro” He said, offering me his hand for help.

“Yo, no need to help me bro” I entered the room. His room was similar to mine, just that it was a bit bigger, and had a bit more of work out equipment.

Bobby sat on his bed, leaving some space for me to sit next to him. I took a little time to look around as I got back on my feet.

I did notice he had the variety show pamphlet Patrick gave us earlier today. “Huh, thinking of joining the show of freaks?” I asked, raising my eyebrow.

The idea actually did amuse me. Imagine Bobby, the guy who loves boxing with his life, singing and dancing in front of the whole school.

“Doing Molly a favor, because we’re at her club. And we’re supposed to be drama freaks. And it wouldn’t hurt you to try something else besides being an ass from time to time” He said, grabbing the pamphlet from his desk and throwing it in the trash can near him.

“It’s okay, not gonna judge you or anything” I said, in an apologetic way. Bobby is… a kind of a sweet guy.

He’s really nice, and I appreciate him being with me after Pat was brainfucked, but he’s not Pat.

He doesn’t really get my humor like my former best friend.

“It’s… okay. So, wanna play some COD?” Bobby said, shrugging the subject off before pointing at his monitor.

“Bro, you should have told me before, I could have brought my joystick!” I said, with a big smile.

My mate chuckled “Alright, we can play some dbd in the meantime if you—“

There was this loud honking sound. Like a car horn, but at this hour? Who could it be?

We both ran to the window and noticed something weird. There was a light coming from one side of the street, being followed by a pretty determined sleeper. The light grew bigger and then it became much clearer. It was a biker, which was already a weird sighting in Greenwood.

After that, I noticed a faint glow of red from behind a house. The shape came out to play, that means whoever this person was, they were in danger.

The person fell from his bike as he tried to avoid another sleeper in his way. Bobby gave me a nod, before running out of his room and downstairs.

I went out through the window and climbed down the rooftop, trying to get to the guy ASAP before the shape did.

He was wearing a biker helmet, luckily. A leather jacket and a dirty as hell shirt, which seemed to be once white.

As I reached out to the stranger and lifted him slowly, Bobby came to my side. “Grab him and take him to my garage!”

“Roger that, cap’n!” He answered, before helping me with the stranger.

I closed my eyes and noticed the shape was getting closer to us.

On the rush of the moment, I snatched Bobby’s crossbow and pointed it at him. I didn’t take a look to see if it was loaded, but it served for a few seconds as a distraction. The shape stopped right on his tracks, waiting to see if I actually was a threat, or if I was just playing around.

By the time it discovered I was doing the latter one, it was too late. Bobby was already off to my house, carrying the biker on his shoulders.

I lowered the crossbow and started running away from my house. The shape was following me, which was a great thing. I just had to buy some time and it would be over.

A turn to the right and I was soon climbing another rooftop. I had to be quick, there was no room for error when the shape is chasing you.

I tried to grab my grappling hook from the bag, a gift from the club’s local genius. After that was done, I threw it to the cornice of the next house in front of me. It grappled to it, and a long rope came down, ready for anyone to climb it.

Without a second thought and with the shape right behind my ass, I jumped and clung to the rope. Climbing quickly and getting on top of the other rooftop. The shape tried jumping after me, but I grabbed the grappling hook and ran away again.

‘That’ll give me some time’ I thought, as I ran to the other part of the roof while the shape tried to climb from the side of the house.

I headed back to my place, but not by the front door. That would rat me out quickly.

I crossed the street in a rush, while trying to keep my stamina ready just in case the shape surprised me. Nothing of that as I went outside of my neighbor’s house.

A sleeper in the backyard, no problem. I crouched and just walked next to the fence, until I was next to my own backyard.

I climbed the fence and jumped towards my door. I opened it and just ran inside, closing it behind me.

Now, to lock everything.

I ran around the house, closing every window and door as quickly as I could. I would close my eyes from time to time to just check the shape wasn’t in front of me.

After I was sure my house was safe, I went towards the garage.

Bobby was there, with the biker guy. My classmate was hugging him, whispering what appeared to be things to calm him down.

“—will be alright, man. We just… We just need to wait for my bro and everything will be— Donnie!” He said, as soon as he noticed me. “Where’s the shape? Is it still outside?”

But I shushed him.

We haven’t misbehaved, we just helped a stranger who fell from his bike. If anything, we did the opposite to sin tonight. But we couldn’t trust the shape’s rules. Better be careful and not give out where we are.

I was mostly worried, who was this guy and why was he so important?

“Should we try to wake him up?” Bobby said, pointing to the stranger beside him.

I nodded and poked the stranger’s belly, hoping to bring him back to his senses. “Hey, bike-man. What’s your name?”

He took some time to answer, while the two of us remained in silent, waiting for him to react.

Until he whispered a weak “K-Kevin…”

I exchanged looks with Bobby. Was this a joke? Another guy to take care of? I mean, I wasn’t expecting a ‘I’m the one who’ll save you all’ or anything like that. The guy just smashed his head on the pavement so it made sense for him to be weak and all.

I sighed, before grabbing him by his legs, and motioning Bobby to grab him by the torso.

“Well, Kevin. Welcome to the daylight club” I said, as we started to slowly carry him to my room.

------

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#The Daylight Club #mind control #gay hypnosis #brainwashing #brainwashed

[satonthelotuspier]

Day 3 of Wangxian Week 2020.

Prompt Palette is Rebirth - Mememtos - Celebrity AU.

When Lan Wangji broke up with Wei Wuxian it destroyed him; he'd thought they were in love and happy together.

Two years later a gala event they're both required to attend throws them back together. It was Lan Wangji's choice to break up, so why does he suddenly want to talk to Wei Wuxian after all this time?

A Second Chance

Jiang Yanli placed a hand over the top of his as he paused to look at the picture of Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji smiling into the camera in front of the Parthenon in Athens. He should cry at the chasm of emptiness that opened up inside him at the feeling of loss, but he didn’t have any tears left at this point.

He put the picture in the cardboard box, along with the rest, and all the stupid little trinkets and mementos that reminded him of Lan Wangji, and their life together, before Lan Wangji had broken all ties with Wei Wuxian.

One of the most cutting things about it was, as they were both celebrities, in the public eye, their relationship had been secret, known only to a few close friends, family and work colleagues.

And so Wei Wuxian was expected to work tomorrow; he had a recording session, and he would have to look and sound like he was perfectly normal, like his world hadn’t collapsed around him and left him lost and confused.

“You don’t have to deal with this now, A-Xian, we can leave it until it’s a little less fresh if you want”

“No, jiejie, I want them gone, I want them out of here tonight. Tomorrow is a fresh start. A rebirth, new me, no more Lan Wangji, he can go to hell”

He slammed the lid on the cardboard box, then checked his phone, “Jiang Cheng should be here soon, lets tape this up so he can go throw it at Lan Wangji tomorrow” Wei Wuxian was raw and hurting, and still at that point he didn’t care what he said about the other, Lan Wangji was only lucky he hadn’t felt the need to call him or drive over there and give him his entire mind, never mind a piece of it.

Better, in case he said something that couldn’t be taken back. Not that it mattered now.

His horrible week didn’t get any better when the pictures of Jiang Cheng punching Lan Wangji in the face were splashed all over every news and gossip tabloid and website in the country.

Wei Wuxian thought he should have felt some spark of satisfaction at Jiang Cheng putting Lan Wangji on his ass in defence of him, but he didn’t.

It didn’t help that Lan Xichen, trying to restrain Jiang Cheng, had accidentally broken Jiang Cheng’s arm which had resulted in a ridiculously long, nerve wracking operation for he and Jiang Yanli to sit through, on his already frazzled nerves.

Jiang Cheng received the dressing down of his life once he came around from the anaesthesia. Wei Wuxian had never heard their jiejie so angry and cutting, either before or since.

2 Years Later

“Wei Wuxian is forced to attend to promote his new collaboration album with MianMian, Lan-xiansheng, perhaps you should consider advising your client to give this event a miss”

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes, and leaned back in his chair as Jiang Cheng’s face flushed in temper and he unconsciously reached up to rub at his right forearm while he listened to whatever was said to him.

“That is, of course, your client’s prerogative, Lan-xiansheng. I see. Well, please inform him of the situation. If your client still sees it as necessary to attend we would appreciate it if you would provide us notice via email” there were no pleasantries as Jiang Cheng hung up the call and tossed his earpiece onto the desk in front of him, frustration evident in the move.

“Asshole”

“Flirting with Xichen-ge again, I see”

“Flirting? With the man who snapped my fucking arm like a twig?” Jiang Cheng demanded in irritation.

“In fairness you did punch his brother, and he explained it was an accident; he was only trying to restrain you. He even sent you a fruit basket and flowers to apologise”

The former of which Jiang Cheng had given away to charity, and the latter to their jiejie, but still…

Teasing Jiang Cheng took his mind off of the very real problem of possibly having to meet up with his ex at the charity gala evening, which was why he did it. And it was fun, besides.

“It was a spiral fracture, Wei Wuxian, it took eight months to heal, like flowers and a fruit basket make up for that. It fucking hurt”

His complaint made, he dropped the subject, and, knowing Wei Wuxian had taken in all the information he needed from his half of the conversion with Lan Xichen, he changed it to discussions of some fan signings they had arranged next week with co-artist MianMian.

***

As the event grew closer things became frantic. Jiang Cheng told him that he’d been informed Lan Wangji would definitely be attending. So now was the perfect time to prove he’d moved on, he told himself, that Lan Wangji was nothing to him more than an ex boyfriend.

Despite these words he didn’t feel hopeful he was up to the task, however.

Then a tabloid ran with an article speculating that he and MianMian were in a secret relationship. It genuinely wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last of it’s kind linking him romantically with someone but it caused a frenzy and he and Jiang Cheng were busy enacting damage control with MianMian and her management team.

A few weeks later, another article was run in another tabloid claiming through rigorous investigative journalism it had been found out that a celebrity reporter at a rival paper had been blackmailing and harassing celebrities with threats of exposure. Wei Wuxian had never liked Su She and it was easy for him to believe it was the truth; he had never come across as particularly ethical, but that paper claimed initially that the accusations were false; pure mud-slinging.

The thing about mud-slinging was, if enough was thrown, some of it stuck. The melee culminated in the resignation and disgrace of Su She, as the other papers were suddenly full of stories of celebrities who claimed to have been blackmailed and bullied.

***

With all the fuss he hadn’t had that much time to dwell on his imminent meeting with Lan Wangji. Nor had he really had time to mentally prepare himself.

The night of the gala, therefore, he felt like he was on the back foot and unprepared.

He didn’t know what to expect nor how he was going to react to what did occur.

The feeling only intensified when, calling an acknowledgement at the knock on his dressing room door, it turned out to be the man he dreaded encountering.

The other came in and closed the door behind him, his elegantly handsome face was expressionless, but he wavered in front of it like he didn’t know what his reception would be.

Wei Wuxian could help him with that.

“Lan Zhan, I thought our management teams had agreed that we would keep a respectful distance. This is hardly that”

“Wei Ying…” the tiniest look of consternation crossed his face, before it disappeared. “Your team wanted that, I never agreed. Can we please talk?”

What could Lan Wangji possibly think there was left to talk about at this stage? The only way to find out was of course to agree, but having Lan Wangji here was proving he wasn’t as over him, and what he had done, as Wei Wuxian hoped. It hurt. It still hurt. It was silly, two years later he should have moved on from this, stopped giving Lan Wangji this power to hurt him.

“I’m not sure what you think there is left to talk about, Lan Zhan” he said tiredly, closing his eyes and rubbing at them with a finger and thumb.

“The truth. The things I didn’t tell you”

At those words Wei Wuxian’s eyes snapped open; what did he mean? He looked back at the other, the only way to find out of course was to let him talk. He waved vaguely for the other to sit, Lan Wangji followed his gesture and perched on the nearby stool.

“You saw the news about Su She, the reporter, recently?” he asked, knowing Wei Wuxian couldn’t really have avoided it.

“Yes”

He nodded as Wei Wuxian agreed. “We were being blackmailed, Wei Ying. I broke off with you to protect you. Su She threatened to smear everything over his grubby little tabloid, it could have destroyed our careers”

“If you paid why would you break up with me? And is your career really that important to you? How the fuck is that protecting me?” as far as excuses went it turned Wei Wuxian’s temper up to eleven.

“Wei Ying, my career meant nothing to me, I was protecting yours. I broke up with you so Su She wouldn’t have any future leverage, no reason to leave me alone and come after you. Blackmailers don’t stop” that soothed his temper a little, but still…

“Who the hell were you to decide my career was more important to me than the man I loved? We could have gone anywhere, done anything. I wouldn’t have cared about it. Typical Lan arrogance, assuming you had the right to make that decision alone”

That seemed to shake Lan Wangji a little, “I only wanted to protect you”

“Well, it didn’t work, you ripped my heart out. But thanks, I guess?”

“I’m sorry, Wei Ying, but I did it because I love you” he almost missed the present tense of the admission in his anger. What was he to make of that? What did he even want to make of that?

They were silent while Wei Wuxian pondered.

“Are you really seeing MianMian?” the question was low, tentative, unlike Lan Wangji, and Wei Wuxian looked at him, caught the gaze of those pale amber eyes. There was a cruel part of himself that wanted to say yes, claim they were now a thing, try to hurt Lan Wangji. But he didn’t listen to it.

“No, its one of those stupid, fake, tabloid ‘they’re spending so much time together’ pieces of fiction. We’ve just released a collaboration, of course we’re spending a lot of time together now we have to do the promo”

Lan Wangji nodded his acceptance of Wei Wuxian’s words. Was that a flash of relief in his eyes?

“Do you hate me, Wei Ying?” well that question came out of the blue. He was caught off guard by Lan Wangji’s unusual directness.

“I don’t know” was the only honest answer he could give, again, ignoring that voice that told him to hurt the other and just say yes. “I thought I did, I think I should. I’m not sure. I don’t know”

“Then please give me a second chance, Wei Ying. I’ll earn your love again” Lan Wangji leaned forward suddenly, pressing a short, almost-chaste kiss again Wei Wuxian’s lips. Should he punch him? Push him away? Enjoy it?

Lan Wangji pulled back before he could decide; he was confused, and oh but he had missed those lips on his.

His voice was still sharp, “Do you think one kiss is going to make up for everything, Lan Zhan?” he demanded. He had been hurt, destroyed, and here was the other begging for a second chance. A chance he was beginning to think he dearly wanted to allow him.

“No, Wei Ying, but I have to start somewhere”

#wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #jiang cheng #jiang yanli #protective siblings #second chances #hurt/comfort #breaking up #making up #mdzs #mdzs fanfic #mo dao zu shi #mo dao zu shi fanfic #the untamed #the untamed fanfic #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #Shay's stuff

[nightowlfandom]

Jung Hoseok- My Favorite Girl

REQUEST FROM PROMPT LIST- RIGHT HERE! (Psstt I write for anime too)

HELLO HORNY ASSHOLES, I AM BACK WITH SOME NEW MATERIALS.

82- You’re so good at taking orders, I wonder what else you’re good at...

This one should be fun!

Leggo!

...

“Ah Thank’s baby.” Hoseok winked at you as you handed him a bottle of banana milk. “You’re so good to me.” he but his lip, winking again. “I see you’re wearing the necklace i got you, damn I have great taste. Maybe I should get you matching earrings.”

“Hoseok.” You blushed. 

No, you weren’t really spoiled, but he sure loved to act like it, buying you gifts you every chance he got, calling you cute pet names, making comments, about how cute you looked. To Hoseok, it was just a matter of time before he started buying you cars for weird reasons.

“I’m only telling the truth.” he chuckled. “My favorite girl taking care of her oppa, damn am I lucky.” 

“Sure Hobi.” you felt your face heat up. Hoseok pat his lap, motioning you to sit on his lap. Shyly you did as he said, perching on his lap. Hoseok wrapped his free arms around your waist.

“So, does my babygirl feel like going out tonight, or does she wanna stay in and have me all to herself?” Hoseok set the bottle on the table to wrap his other arm around your waist. “You’re choice.”

“I don’t feel like going anywhere. I’m still tired from last week.” you joked. “...but a nice dinner wouldn’t hurt.” you shrugged. You knew that Hoseok would take every little thing you said over the top. You could say ‘let’s go for a walk’ and then the next thing you know you’re walking through a garden in Japan or somewhere, like he really went above and beyond. 

“Hm, dinner you say?” he perked up an eyebrow.

“By that I mean takeout...you know like a normal person!” you laughed. 

“My lifestyle isn’t normal babe.” Hoseok kissed your temple. “Which means I get to treat you every day if you’d let me.”

“Why would you want to spend your money on me?” you pouted. “You could literally buy a damn house with the amount of money you’ve spent taking me out.”

“Because I like it.” he shrugged. “So you’re gonna stop trying to stop me from spoiling you. Got it?” he pecked your lips. “Besides, don’t act like you don’t like it.”

“You aren’t wrong.” you pouted. “Fine, I’m just saying, a lot of greater things to spend money on than little old me.” you shrugged. “Like that house thing I mentioned.”

“So you want a house next? I’ll-”

“HOBI!”

“ You’re just not used to me spoiling you yet...which is strange because we’ve been together for three years.” he rolled his eyes playfully. “Accept it already.”

....

Of course he took you to an art gala benefit bullshit event. You should have known better, you really should have but as you’ve said before. Hoseok was full of surprise.

“I hate you.” you mumbled, crossing your arms.”I said takeout! Not “take me out’.” You sighed, making Hoseok laugh in your ear.

“Oops, guess I never learn.” his lips brushed your ears. “But you do look ravishing in that dress.” he smirked. “I wish I could tear it off you.”

Ah yes, Jung Hoseok. The only person on this planet who is fully content with tearing a 3,000 dollar dress of your body. 

“Hm, but I’ll wait. I don’t need any of these perverts staring at your body...plus I love seeing the envious glares you get from other women.” he laughed. You two were sitting at a table with Hoseok’s rich weirdo friends.

“So Y/N.” one of them began. “Hoseok tells us that you’re interested in arts as well, apparently you have an eye for old pieces.”

“Yeah. I mean I guess so.” you shrugged. “It’s pretty easy to tell for me.”

“She’s being humble as usual I see.” Hoseok chuckled putting his hand on your lap under the table. “She’s a natural, it’s almost like second nature.” 

“Oh really?” Another one of his friends chipped in. “I’m thinking of purchasing that painting over there.” he pointed to a painting on the wall next to another table.

“Siren’s Song by Thai-Italian artist Theron Way, painted in 1932. The underpainting is said to have some weird message along with a hidden picture in the background that makes a whole new painting. That and there are 17 hidden faces in the garden background.” you said without thinking, which garnered silence from the table. “...Highest bidding was rumored to be 60,000 dollars when it was originally released. Plus...it’s the only painted that was rumored to be released before his archive was found after his death.” (This was completely made up, just go with it)

Okay...you were being humble, art was your absolute forte. It’s how you met Hoseok actually. 

“Well Hoseok you are absolutely right, she is being humble. How do you know so much?” he suddenly asked. You were about to answer when you felt your dress hike up a little. You looked over at Hoseok who looked nonchalant. You leaned on the table a little.

“A magician never reveals their secrets, they just spend a lot of years reading back to back.” you jokingly replied. Hoseok abruptly hiked up your dress until your bare thigh was revealed to the cold air. 

Hoseok leaned down to talk into your ear. “I wonder what they would say if they saw daddy playing with his babygirl under the table.”he chuckled. 

“Hobi, really? Right now?” you whispered under your breath.

“I’m impatient, remember...” Hoseok winked. “Besides, if I could, I throw you on this table in front of everybody. So I’ll settle for playing with you.”

“Aye Hoseok, tell us how you met Y/N.”

“Hm, well” Hoseok’s hand scooted more up your leg. “She saved me from making an ass of myself.” he chuckled. “Ah I almost got cheated out of a painting that was worth less than a bus token and Y/N here, made a complete fool of the guy and his bitch of a wife.” he laughed, making the others burst into laughter too. Hoseok’s knuckles ghosted over your hand, and pinched your thigh a little when you tried to squeeze your legs closed.

You knew this game of his. It was his favorite game to play when you two went out.

Can Y/N hold herself together while that shit eating Hoseok teases her all night

“After that, I asked if I could thanks her and she hasn’t left my side since.” Hoseok looked at you with a wink. 

“How could I, you called me every day.” you faked an eye roll. “Plus I think you were just looking for someone to waste your money on.”

“Oh come on, it’s not like I went all out for your birthday.”

Yeah, you said you wanted a small birthday gift, not a 6,000 dollar tech studio for (art, gaming, music, you choose lol) IF THAT WASN’T “ALL OUT” THAN WHAT WAS?!?! The amount of money he’s invested in your hobbies could pay off your stupid debts...but oh wait he already did that.

Hoseok leaned into your ear just as his fingers slipped under your panties, rubbing your slit. “I can already tell you aren’t gonna last long, so why don’t we get outta here?”

...

RRRRIIPPP

Hoseok did as he promised and tore our dress up the back instead of just using the perfectly fully functional zipper at the side. He had placed hot, opened mouth kisses along your collarbone and he pushed you further up against the wall. Your dress, or what used to be your dress had pooled at your feet.

“Take this pretty ass to the bedroom before I drag you there myself.” he chuckled. You jumped and wrapped your legs around his torso, allowing him to carry you across his living room into the bedroom.

You landed on the bed with a thud and a bounce, allowing a giggle to rip through the air as Hoseok climbs over you.

“You’re so good at taking orders, I wonder what else you’re good at.”

(I shouldn’t have to say this again but I will just in case. I have an entire archive of requests, and if you’ve felt like you waited more than a few days, just drop me a message to remind me which request yours was and I get it done as soon as possible!)

#bts smut #hoseok smut #jimin smut #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #yoongi smut #taehyung smut #seokjin smut #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts x reader #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #jung hoseok imagines #jung hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #hoseok x reader smut #taehyung imagine #seokjin imagine #namjoon imagine #jimin imagine #hoseok imagines #imagines #smut #smut imagines #smut scnarios #sugar daddy au #bts sugar daddy au #sugar daddy hoseok

[whispersforthevoid]

Unavoidable

Pairing: Connor x reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: Connor has been avoiding you since he deviated and you don’t know why (plot-twist: he likes you). Mutual pining, angsty with a bit of sexy and a fluffy end.

Warnings: suggestive themes, dirty talk (Connor is kinky y’all), Gavin tries to flirt with you, (let me know if you think I missed something!)

---

Connor had been avoiding you ever since he came back from Jericho a deviant.

You had been his closest friend - alongside Hank- and watched him soften and grow into more than ‘the android sent by Cyberlife’.

What had you done wrong? Connor was still following Hank around like a puppy, but he wouldn’t even look at you. That just burned all the more and carved out an uncomfortable emptiness in your chest with each missed glance, every sidestep, every elevator he avoided because you were waiting inside - it was killing you. He stayed away from your entire side of the office as though you might give him a virus just by proximity.

The best part of working at DPD was steadily becoming the worst.

You were used to Connor avoiding an agitated Gavin, all of them did, but now you were on par with that? You watched Connor at his desk from the doorway as you slumped against it, knowing the moment you walked in he would coincidentally have some made-up meeting to attend.

What had you done to him? You had hoped that he was warming up to you, that you could have been real friends. Now you felt it was just your imagination. Connor was still as monotonous and unfeeling as you remembered him being - an inhuman machine. For some reason that revelation disappointed you immensely, leaving you cold and lonely.

“Y/N,” Reed appeared behind you, and you jumped. You had been buried so deep in the turmoil of Connor that you hadn’t heard him approach. You glared up into his grinning face. “You wanna get a drink tonight?”

“You know full well I don’t drink during the work week, Gavin.” You folded your arms across your chest and backed into the cold metal of the doorway as Gavin tried on his poor attempt at flirting.

“Doesn’t have to be alcohol.” He shrugged. “I just think we should get to know each other a little better.”

“Why?” You tried not to sound rude. It was hard not to detest someone so violently anti-android, even if he had only ever been nice to you.

Gavin smirked, confidence that didn’t add up coating his voice when he spoke, “You’re the office babe with a heart of gold. What’s not to want?”

Oh, fuck. Had you traded attention from Connor for attention from the office asshole? What curse had the universe placed on you?

“That’s sweet, but I’m not really feeling up to it.” You gave Gavin a kind smile, voice firm.

“What’s got ya sad?” He seemed genuinely concerned, reaching out to give your shoulder a cautious squeeze. Gavin frowned as he watched you sigh. “If you’re pining over some dude, he’s the wrong one. No one in their right mind wouldn’t want you.”

Even though it was passed off with that usual Gavin bullshit, his compliment was genuine and appreciated. If Connor wasn’t interested, maybe he could be a good distraction after all. “Thanks, Gav.”

“She was poetry, but he couldn’t read.” Gavin quoted. His body tensed a little, realising you were looking him over. He was trying to impress you.

You grinned. “His name was Jared, and he was nineteen.”

“Was that- Was that a vine reference? Aren’t those ancient?”

--

When he was the first thing you thought of when you woke up the next morning, you decided to take a more direct approach. Connor seemed sad in his reclusion, if that were even possible (which you very much believed it was), and that was far worse than your own loneliness.

So you sat on the edge of his desk, determined to be unavoidable. Your smile was wide when he stalked over to you, matching your bright intensity with a dark frown. Gruffly, he asked, “Can I help you, detective?”

“Just wanted to have a chat.”

He grimaced down at you, and for a moment your confidence wavered. Would Connor tell you to get lost? Jump off a pier? He didn’t care and you were an annoyance his life would be better without?

But no. He sighed - humanity really had worked its way into his circuits - and gestured down the hallway. “I believe room forty-nine is available.”

-

“Connor,” You began, awkwardly looking over the various knives and batons lining the walls. The weapons locker? Did he want to kill you? “Have I done something to upset you?”

He didn’t react, but you saw his LED flicker yellow for a moment. “Why would you think that, detective?”

“Well, for a start, you stopped calling me by my name. You haven’t called me ‘detective’ since our first week.” But you pushed on quickly. You didn’t want him to get hung up dismissing details with that annoyingly adorable sensible logic he could pull out of thin air. “I miss you. Did something happen? At Jericho?”

You could feel him watching you, like a phantom touch on your skin; but now you were too scared to look up. You didn’t want to see the coldness in those usually warm eyes. You had spent enough time wishing he would just look at you and now it had you crumbling.

“I deviated.” Was his voice softer, or was it just your wistful imagination again? “I believe Hank told-”

“Yes, Connor, Hank told me. Are you… okay?” You snuck a look at him in the reflection of the glass cabinets. He was looking at something with an intensity you had never seen before, as if he were an artist desperately trying to understand the majesty of a fellow’s work and just couldn’t quite grasp it.

But Connor wasn’t looking at art, no, there weren’t any sculptures or the Mona Lisa or Starry Night in the DPD weapons locker.

He was looking at your ass.

You could feel the heat blooming on your cheeks, but a wave of confidence washed over you. Maybe you did know what was going on, after all. “Connor?”

“Mmh?” He hadn’t noticed that you had caught him yet, still too engrossed.

“Are you angry with me?” You asked softly.

He finally looked up, and you glanced over your shoulder at him with a nervous smile. Connor didn’t avert his eyes, instead striding forwards as you spun around to face him.

His expression was guarded but his eyes! Finally, they were warm and full of that spark you had fallen in love with.

A cold jolt went straight to your stomach. That was something to ponder later, ‘love’.

Connor said, “No, I am not angry with you, Y/N.”

Did Cyberlife know what they were doing when they gave him that voice? “Then why won’t you work with me?”

He shook his head, trailing his gaze slowly from your eyes down to your shoes. His hands twitched at his sides, idle but wanting. Was he… scanning you?

“Your heart rate has increased, your pupils are dilated. You’re breathing harder, Y/N, and the capillaries in your face… You’re blushing.” Connor sounded surprised. He was close enough now that you had to press against the cases not to touch him.

But you wanted to, oh gosh, you really wanted to touch that perfect plastic man with his kind heart of biocomponents. You wanted to mess up that impeccable brown hair, wanted to know if it was as soft as you always daydreamed it would be. How this was only just hitting you now was beyond you.

The tension between you was thick enough to cut with a knife, and the electricity in the air would surely knock out the lights before the conversation was over.

“If I haven’t done anything, then why are you avoiding me, Connor?” Your words were tender and almost teasing, but that didn't make them any less sincere.  

“Are you romantically interested in me, Y/N?” He avoided the question. His lips were mere inches away from your own as he spoke lowly, chocolate brown darkening to obsidian - whether it was the shadows or something else, you weren’t sure. You just knew it made your joints ache wonderfully. “Do you want me, too?”

You stood up a little straighter and Connor stooped until your noses were almost touching and your clothes brushed together, and you licked your lips knowing he was watching every move with exquisite attention to detail.

"Oh, you’re a good detective, Connor. I think you already know the answer to that." Even in heels, you had to stand on tiptoes to finally press your lips against his.

That was the permission Connor had been waiting for. Hands found your waist, sneaking under your jacket to feel what he was after. He pulled you roughly against him with his hidden strength, arching around you like a protective cloak. As he enveloped you, all you could do was grin against his warm mouth.

The kiss was sweet, if not a little hurried, as Connor tangled his fingers in your hair to angle your head so he could deepen the kiss and push his tongue past pliant lips. He tasted as ‘real’ as he felt, and while he clearly didn’t really know what he was doing his instincts had your head reeling as he anticipated every move of your tongue against his.

Through it all, you happily realised that he couldn’t get enough of you, as if a dam had broken and Connor’s torrent of repressed longing was washing over you all at once and dismantling the loneliness and rejection you had felt.

You couldn’t keep up with his hungry pace and it was getting hard to breathe as he smothered you against the cases. Everything was Connor, everything you could feel, taste, smell; it was all him, him, him. The gasps and moans he pulled from you with that kiss alone were a little mortifying but you couldn’t give less of a fuck when it felt so impossibly right.

But it was too much, and with the most painful self-control, you gently broke the kiss. Your hands rested atop his broad shoulders, squeezing them gently as you kept yourself close so you were flush against his body.

He was breathing heavily, his cooling systems whirring quietly inside his chest as he gazed down at you as if you were the Eighth Wonder of the World. You were sure he would see the same in your eyes as you stared back, trembling in his arms.

"Does it always feel like this?” Connor asked in a husky voice, tilting his head to press his forehead to yours. He held you so tightly - like you might slip through his hands like sand in an hourglass. “Do humans always feel this much?”

"I don’t know, Connor," You blushed, words mumbled. “I haven’t felt this with anyone else.”

He gave a crooked grin and leant in again to continue the kiss- but a finger on his lips stopped him.

“Connor, why did you stop avoiding me this morning? You usually run away.”

“I, uh, couldn’t resist.” Connor’s cheek flushed the lightest blue, and he was uncomfortably human. “You don’t often dress like this.”

You glanced down. Yeah, you did look pretty good in a tight pencil skirt, and it had probably been a subconscious choice to get attention. Innocently, you looked back up into his eyes, fluttering your eyelashes. You knew what worked, apparently even on androids.

“Do you want me to dress like this for you tomorrow?” Your words were sugary sweet.

“You do not work on Sundays, Y/N,” Connor said with a frowned, truly upset. “I would not see.”

“Why wouldn’t you see, Connor? I can hardly let you fuck me at work.” You sounded so genuine and blasé it took Connor a full moment to realise what you were saying. His LED cycled red and his fingers dug into your waist. There would be bruises. “And that’s how you felt when you saw me sitting on your desk today, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” He pushed his hips against your stomach so you would feel him. He wanted you to know, even though he wasn’t entirely sure why or what it was. He gave a soft groan as you licked your lips. “I am not programmed for this. I am not meant to feel... lust. But when I saw you, waiting for me, I... I just...”

“Go on, Connor. You can tell me.” You spoke through a sultry pout, but your practised flirting made it seem as though this was all coincidence and Connor was just reacting intensely. The hard bulge rutting against you satisfied a few questions you had and raised even more. Your voice was soft enough to give him the control despite giving introductions, “Tell me how you felt, how you feel.”

“I wanted to make you mine,” He whispered shamefully, swallowing unnecessarily. His eyes were wider, looking down at you like he couldn’t believe you were there. “I wanted to fuck you. I needed to. I need to now.”

“Yes, Connor?” You egged him on, sliding a hand tantalisingly slowly up his chest, fingertips dipping under his blazer.

Connor gasped, blinking and shivering. It was like being touched for the first time.

“I want to know how you feel- on the outside and the inside. I cannot stop thinking about how warm you would be, how tight and wet... and for me... you’d scream my name, Y/N, I’d make you.” He was blatantly humping your hip now, quickly descending into a mess while you watched through half-closed eyes. Your lips grazed together, his voice raspy in a way you would never have anticipated as he moaned, “I’ll be gentle and loving but then I’ll fuck you rough and hard like you want. Like I want. I want you to be my little slut.”

Where had Connor learnt about sex? He had said before, on a long stakeout with Reed and Hank, that he had never had a sexual experience. Which was why you had not expected it to escalate so far, and never in a million years would you have thought Connor would dive so quickly into dirty talk. He had you dripping.

With a demure shiver, you gently pushed him back again. Fear and worry immediately cleared some of the lust clouding Connor’s eyes.

“I am sorry, Y/N, I should not have said those things, I should not have called you such a derogatory term. I am very sor-“ You kissed him, swallowing his hasty apologies. It was a very slow and languid kiss, stealing you both into a serene moment. Was there really a rest of the world, or had it always just been you two together in a slice of quiet paradise?

“No, Connor. I want to be your slut.” You whispered.

“Oh, fuck.” He groaned quietly. His LED flashed red and yellow.

“But anyone could walk in here! It’s a miracle we haven’t been caught yet.”

“But tomorrow,” One of Connor’s hands tentatively slid down to slap your ass and he grabbed a handful. You kissed his cheek as he stifled another moan. Love was definitely more fun when it was requited. “Tomorrow you’re all mine.”

“All yours, Connor. To play with as you please.” You smiled again, with an innocence that should have been his. Your eyes twinkled. “You’ll make me feel so good, I know you will.”

“You must know two other things.” Connor looked pained and you were suddenly worried. Perhaps he wasn’t as kinky as you had assumed?

“Firstly, it is taking all the control my program can muster not to bend you over my desk in front of all our colleagues and fuck you till I fill you up enough that they know who you belong to,” No, definitely very kinky. Who knew, androids be wild. “So you know who you belong to.”

“And secondly,” His face softened and the hand not grasping your ass gently cupped your face. He stroked a thumb across your swollen lips with a warm smile that could melt butter. “I want you and only you. Please return the sentiments and do not share yourself.”

“No one else could compare, Connor.” You kissed his thumb. “I’m not interested in anyone else.”

“I want to assure you, my interest in you is not only physical, Y/N,” His gaze was the gentlest you had ever seen, brown eyes begging you to understand words he seemed unable to find. “I admire you greatly as a colleague and as a friend. You are the kindest person I have ever encountered.”

Oh, gosh, you were going to cry. The tears were welling, threatening to spill over. It had been such a solemn few months without him, you didn’t realise how much you had truly missed him until you had him back now. He was the sun that kept your life growing and full.

“I want you as more than a sexual means to an end, Y/N. When I deviated the first thing I felt was,” He swallowed hard, as if the memory was painful. “I felt love. For you. I was… concerned. That this would be too much, that you- that you wouldn’t want me, too.”

“Oh, Connor,” You cupped his blushing face in your hands, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips as the tears finally fell. “You’ll never be too much. Whatever this is between us, Connor, it’s unavoidable.”

---

AN: okay if that was too kinky y’all gotta let me know so I can dial it back lol. But, um!! Thanks for the support on Quietly Devoured, guys <3  It means the world to me! My inbox and askes are officially open for any DBH requests you might have. I’ll put some more r!Connor x reader out soon, but how do people feel about RK900? or any of the others? Do you prefer tame or sexy pieces? Let me know! 

Also! Let me know if and what you want to be tagged in for next time I post!

#connor x reader #detroit become human #Connor #connor rk800 x reader #rk800 #DBH #dbh x reader #dbh imagine #dbh fanfic #deviant connor #deviant!connor #Deviant connor x reader #deviant!connor x reader #connor imagine #x reader #imagine #fanfic #rk800 x reader #dbh connor #dbh connor x reader #connor rk800 #mine #soft boi #detroit become human fanfic #detroit become human x reader #was this okay?? #I feel like its really cheesy #i just really love connor guys #i hope you enjoy this! #i can write a less soft reader but idk i just really like

[crystalwillow]

My Eternity (Ethan x Casey)

"... Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow...... I love you too..... Goodnight babe. mwah!" Casey said softly down the phone to her soon to be husband. As she placed her phone to charge on the nightstand there was a light knock at her door, "it's open" she called out. It opened slowly and her bridesmaids filed in one by one. Jackie, Sienna, Aurora and Esme. "hey. how are you feeling?" Sienna asked as they all sat on the bed around Casey. "Pretty nervous if I'm being honest." she replied with a shaky voice, "hey. You've got this Valentine" Jackie encouraged as she wrapped her arm around Casey's shoulder, pulling her into a greatly appreciated tight hug. "Late night snack before bed girls?" Aurora asked, Casey sat up and looked at her "what is it?" she asked with narrowed eyes, "gluten free pizza with all your favourite vegetables plus a sprinkling of diced chicken" Aurora answered. The girls all looked at one and other before rushing out the room and down the stairs "Casey has the best taste for pizza. the first slice is mine!" Aurora and Casey heard Esme shout out as the three other girls raced towards the kitchen. The two left behind shared a chuckle before following them for a snack and glass of wine before bed.

--- 15 hours later---

Casey paced back and forth nervously in her room at the church waiting for word on her dress from Jackie and Esme, and the arrival of her hair and make-up artist from Aurora dand Sienna. "Okay.. it's okay Casey. everthing will be fine there's a whole 3 hours to go. they'll be here soon and everythiing will be fi--" She stops rambling to herself as her biggest fear completely takes over and she flops on the sofa bursting into tears. "Why me!?" she screams through her tears. She and Ethan had been planning this moment for the past 2 years.

They had been officially dating for a year when Ethan popped the question one night in the diagnostics room, as they were staying late to finish up some reports. Now 3 years later she's "backstage" at a church for her wedding a wreck because both her dress and make-up artist are stuck in traffic. She was a hyperventillating mess by now, she'd been crying for almost 45 minutes when a knock at the door sounded, followed by a deep soothing voice that was all too familiar. "Casey?? Sweetheart, it's me. Ethan. Look... I know we're keeping things traditional because you're respecting me, but I want to respect you too. I've heard about what's going on so I uh.. I'm out here in a t-shirt and jeans if you want to thr-" he's cut off by the door flying open and his soon to be wife running out in to his arms and sobbing into his neck. "it's ruined! everything is ruined!" she exclaimed through her tears. "hey! shhhhh, it's alright sweetie, I'm here." he cooed softly as he rubbed soothing circles on Casey's back.

Slowly he walked into the room and sat them down on the sofa as he cuddled Casey close. Slowly but surely with the small forehead kisses and whispers of sweet nothings she finely calmed down. "I'm sorry." Casey sniffled after a few moments of silence, Ethan brow forrowed. "Sorry for what?" He asked "This. I've messed everythi-" She started to ramble but Ethan stopped her with a finger to her lips "I don't want to hear none of that Valentine, do you understand?" he asked seriously but with the softest look on his face. She nodded. The two spent a few more minutes with each other, cuddling, laughing and sharing sweet kisses until Sienna came back. she gasped as she saw Ethan "The others are coming! quick! out... out!" She panicked urging Ethan out the room "I'll see you in a few Rookie" He smiled at Casey blowing her a kiss before leaving, mere moments before the room came to life with what felt like a million people to prepare her for the moment she had dreamt about her whole life. Marrying the love of her life. Her soulmate. Okay so he's a few years older but that doesn't matter, what matters is their love and respect for each other. The ceremony they're here for to tie them together for enternity.

--- 30 minutes to the ceremony ---

The girls are all inside their room having the finishing touches put to their outfits when there's a frantic knocking the the door. All four bridesmaids rush to answer it. on the other side you hear a frantic voice "Have you girls seen Ethan?!" Casey zoned out of the conversation as her phone pinged.

Ethan: peep out the window :)

Casey: Why?? ...

Ethan: Just.. please?

Sighing Casey set her phone down and peeped out the window and peeped out the window, only showing her head and neck. As her eyes focused she saw Ethan doing the same round the corner of the building and smiled wide, giggling to herself. She waved and blushed as Ethan blew her a kiss before disappearing round the corner. "Casey..." A voice sounded out behind her causing her to jump "What are you smiling at missy?" Jackie asked smugly, "oh, nothing. Just two birds who looked very much in love" Casey replied. Jackie, Aurora, Esme and Sienna all gave each other a knowing smile before turning back to Casey and wiggling their eyebrows "What? ..... What're you guys looking at me like tha- OOOOOH. no! stop! get your minds out of the gutter!" she laughed as she threw a pillow at Esme and one at Jackie. "Oi Valentine!" they shouted in unison and the world around the five of them went completely still for a moment "wow. That's the last time i'll hear that as my last name." Casey whispered with a tear coming to her eye but stopped it from falling. *ding ding ding ding ding ding* the bells started to chime singnaling the beginning of the wedding. "well...." said Sienna, supressing a smile as she looked around the room "Let's go and make you a Ramsey!" She cheered and the others joined in as casey grabbed her bouquet and followed them out.

As Casey stood behind the closed door,the nerves really hit her "Oh God... I'm doing this. I'm marrying Ethan Ramsey. phew" she rambled nervously "hey! It's going to be fine" Ethan's dad told her soothingly "What if I trip and fall on my face though? I already had one breakdown tod-" She started rambling again but was cut off by the bolt on the other side of the door moving. Letting out a deep breath, she looped her arm through Alan's and they began walking down the aisle, as Casey walked down towards Ethan he looked down to wipe tears from his eyes. Soon, they were standing opposite each other and exchanging vows. Ethan cleared his throat and looked at Casey with a smile "Rookie. That's how this whole thing started... you helped me rescue a woman in the reception area on your way to orientation when you didn't need to stop. as that year went on you infuriated me more and more with your persistance to be kind to me when I was, quite frankly, being an asshole to you. But then we... hooked up. I had shut that kind of thing out of my life for years. To be honest, I'd given up on finding "the one" who I would end up marrying. But you came along and changed everything. I... You showed me the feeling of love again that I had blocked out. I feel normal again and I want to thank God for putting you in my life because if it wasn't for you I believe I would have become a stubborn drunk by now. Thank You for everything you've done and will continue to do. I love you" he finished up and kisses away a tear rolling down Casey's cheek. "you look beautiful" he whispered in her ear.

"I now pronouce you husband and wife." the priest announced after Casey and Ethan exchanged "I do's" and rings. They leave the church to hollering and applause, with bursts of confetti coming from random people. As they reached the steps, Ethan picked Casey up "Ah! Ethan!" she giggled as he carried her to their limo that would take them to their reception and then their new house at the end of the night.

--- At the reception ---

The reception was in full swing as Ethan and Casey sat at their table watching their guest enjoy themselves. Sighing happily Casey looked up at Ethan and kissed his cheek. "I love you Mr.Ramsey" she said, he looked down at her and smiled "I love you too Mrs.Ramsey" he smiled and kissed her lips sweetly. She giggled giddily and hugged him tightly. Ethan's dad approached the table with someone in tow, making Ethan rise to his feet to stand in front of you protectively. "I found this guy outside. He said he knows Casey." Alan stated as Casey looked up and saw Landry who gave a nervous smile and wave "You weren't invited." Casey said coldly as her face turned sour, "I know but we were friends and I wa-" Landry started to explain as Casey moved past Ethan getting into his face "Exactly WERE friends. But you decided to try and get my license revoked and almost cost me my job, when I was doing what was right for the paitient. She passed away happy! and YOU!" She said raising her voice louder and louder by the minute as she jabbed her finger into his chest and pulled her shoulder out of Ethan's comforting grip, "YOU WERE. PART. OF IT. But you left that part out to save your ass! So no. we are no longer friends because you are a TWO FACED, BACKSTABBING, MAN-WHORE, WHO NEEDS LEAVE MY RECEPTION AND GET OUT OF THIS BUILDING RIGHT NOW. GO!" she shouted as she pointed to the door. "i- okay" Landry said as he turned to leave. Ethan pulled Casey close to his chest, pressing a kiss to her head, "Get rid of him dad. Please, for Casey's sake." He told his father who obligied and escorted Landry out. "Hey. it's okay" Ethan cooed to Casey sweetly as he hugged her tightly as Jackie and everyone else came running over to support her "are you okay Case?" Elijah asked, "I brought you Champagne" Sienna said as she held out the flute to her best friend. Casey took it with a smile and a small "thank you" as she took a sip. "I think we should go dance. All of us. We've come so far together. Aaaaand, I wanna have fun tonight" She smiled as she placed the flute on the table next to Ethan's beer. "Macarena circle?" Bryce suggested, his eyes glistening with mischief "WOOOOO!" everyone cheered and rushed to the dance floor as Bryce went and asked for the song before joining the circle. Together they danced and laughed the night away.

Before they knew it Ethan and Casey were pulling up to their new home they would share for the rest of their lives. "Casey.... honey.." Ethan whispered as he gently woke his new wife up "Hm?" Casey hummed as she sat up looking confused "We're home" Ethan said softly and Casey responded with a smile. After he had stepped out, Ethan held out his hand to help Casey out of the limo and together they stepped into their new home ready to start the next chapter of their lives together.

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