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crystalninjaphoenix · 4 months

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Hold My Hand Tight

Paranormal Preteens AU: Episode Nineteen

A JSE Fanfic

Forgive me if the title seems unfitting, I almost forgot to queue this so it's super late as I'm titling it and writing this author's note. I'll get straight to the summary. Chase realizes that he made a mistake earlier, and so tries to make up for it by hanging out with Marvin, just the two of them. There's also a brief discussion about what to do about the thing in the school basement, and a scene where JJ gets an unexpected visitor. Enjoy reading :)

More of this AU

++++++++++++++++++++

The school week passed uneventfully, but still, Chase couldn’t help but feel like something was off. And it wasn’t because of the “paperpillar” in the basement. He hadn’t heard anything about that. No strange sounds or sights, and no rumors about a paper monster in the school. No, this was something else.

It took him until Thursday afternoon to realize what it was. He was watching TV in the living room. Schneep was there, too, but he was curled up reading instead of paying attention to the show (he wasn’t into this show.) The commercials had just started, allowing Chase’s mind to wander—and then it hit him. “Oh my god, I’m an idiot,” he whispered.

Schneep looked over at him. “What? Why?”

“I called Marvin ‘weird’ again.” Chase hit his forehead. “Dumb! Dumb dumb dumb! I didn’t mean it like that! I should’ve used a different word!”

“Chase.” Schneep lowered his book and stared at him.

“Don’t sound so disappointed! You didn’t say anything when it happened!”

“I was busy thinking about how Marvin suddenly had powers. And... a-and I should not have to say something every time you make a mistake.”

Chase slumped back against the sofa. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he repeated, mumbling.

“What did you mean it like, then?” Schneep asked.

“I dunno. Uh... strange, but cool. Because it is cool.” Chase shook his head. “I just... I use that word all the time. Everyone does. Even Marvin does, I’ve heard him say it. But I should’ve thought about what happened. And the, uh... the... surroundings. Of the word. There’s a word for that, um... the context. I should’ve thought about the context.”

“And you should have realized what you did before now,” Schneep muttered.

“I know! But we’ve been kinda busy!” Schoolwork was really starting to get intense, which wasn’t fair, because the end-of-term exams were still at least a month away. And besides that, there was, you know, a giant paper caterpillar in the basement of the school. And that weird Circle group, which everyone was convinced was watching them. And that guy who looked like Anti—Jackie had called him Jack McLoughlin. Chase had tried asking around about him, but he was too old for any of the kids in his year to have known. “And I’ll say again, you didn’t say anything, either. And neither did Stacy!”

“Well maybe she thought you would’ve realized on your own much faster,” Schneep pointed out.

Chase sighed, slumping further. “I should’ve.” He paused. “Uh... what do I do now? I should say sorry, right? Or has it been too long?”

“You should say sorry.”

“Yeah.” Another pause. Chase stared blankly at the commercials on TV. Some toy ad was playing. He didn’t really care about it. “But like... I wanna do more than that, too. Cause like... I don’t want Marvin to hate me. Or think I hate him. I want to do something to make up for... um... being a butt.”

Schneep laughed a little. “Maybe you two can do something together. Ah, ‘hang out’ somewhere.”

“You don’t think that’s too much?”

“You just said you wanted to do more than just say sorry. I think hanging out together could be that.” Schneep shrugged. “Marvin might not want to, of course. In which case, you still say sorry. There is nothing to lose in asking. You should not be so, ah, unsure about yourself.”

“...yeah, I guess you’re right.” Chase nodded. “I don’t know what he’d want to do, though. I guess he could choose. That’d be easier, and show that I, uh... wanna hear about stuff he likes to do.”

Schneep grinned. “That seems good to me. We will see everyone tomorrow after school to talk about everything, ja? You can talk to him after all that about this.”

“That’s a good plan. Thanks, Schneep.”

“You are welcome.”

At that moment, Mom walked into the room. She glanced over at the sofa on her way to the kitchen. “Chase, do you want to break your spine? Stop sitting like that.”

Chase groaned. “It’s fine, Mom!” he said, but sat up straight anyway.

Schneep laughed.

++++++++++++++++++++

The whole group had agreed to meet up at Zelly’s on Friday. Mom dropped Chase and Schneep off, promising to pick them up when they texted her. Everyone else was already there. Jackie, Stacy, and of course, the Jacksons. Chase stared at Marvin for a little longer than he probably should have. But Marvin didn’t notice. He was too busy methodically shredding a napkin.

“Hey guys!” Jackie grinned as Chase and Schneep sat down. “We’re probably not gonna have a lot of time. I have to work in like, half an hour. But I think that’ll be long enough.”

“I didn’t know these guys sold hot chocolate,” Stacy said as she read a menu.

“Yeah, they sell it in winter,” Chase said. “Did they put it on the menu already? It’s not that cold.”

I’m going to disagree, JJ said. He was wearing a blue jacket over his normal shirt.

“Well, let us decide what to get and then talk about the past week,” Schneep said.

They decided on their drinks—Jackie, Stacy, and JJ would get hot chocolate while Chase, Schneep, and Marvin stuck with soda. A server came over and they ordered, adding on a couple baskets of fries for the table. As soon as the server was out of sight, Stacy leaned forward. “So, like, how does this work? Do we just start talking about how to deal with the paper thing in the basement right away?”

“The paperpillar,” Marvin said, his eyes brightening a little. “It’s a paperpillar. Paperpillar!” Clearly, he really liked the word and/or the concept of a paperpillar.

“Yeah, that,” Stacy said. “What’re we gonna do about it?”

“Do we need to do anything about it?” Schneep asked. “It has not come up into the school since we saw it. And I have not heard about any trouble.”

“But like... it tried to eat Jackie, sooo...” Chase pointed out.

“It wasn’t eating me, it was just like... wrapping around me,” Jackie said. “It didn’t hurt or anything. And I don’t think something made of paper can ‘eat’ things in the first place.”

Chase has a good point, though, JJ said. It ran at us the moment it saw us. It will probably do the same thing to anyone who goes into the basement.

“Hmm. Yes, you are right.” Schneep nodded. “Even if most people do not go down there, it looked like there was a lot of, ah, maintenance things there. Someone will go in the basement one day to mess with those things. That is how maintenance works.”

“Alright, so we agree we gotta stop it, then,” Jackie said. “How?”

“Uh... we can, like, burn it or something,” Stacy suggested.

“Whoa!” Chase laughed. “I-I didn’t think you’d say that.”

“What? Cause I’m a girl? Girls can burn things down if they wanna.” Stacy pushed her glasses into place. “And if it’s made of paper, fire is probably the best thing to use. Have you ever seen paper burn? It goes up immediately.”

JJ nodded. We can find lighters easily enough. Maybe we could throw one at it. Maybe a couple, just to be sure it will catch—

“Maybe let’s not set a fire in the school?” Jackie said delicately. “If it spreads to the rest of the building, uh... there’ll be a lot of people in there. So... that’s bad.”

“Oh.” Stacy blinked. “Right.”

Will it spread so easily? JJ wondered.

“Yes,” Jackie emphasized. “If the thing on fire is a big paperpillar that can run really fast, then yes.”

JJ frowned. Probably a bad idea, then.

“There could also be gas things in the basement,” Schneep added.

“Okay, so no fire,” Chase said. “But what do we do, then? We can’t banish it like the ghost, we can’t pop it like the bubble monster, we can’t cut it up like the mushrooms, we can’t... uh... what did we do with the monster dog?”

Marvin, previously rather quiet, straightened. “I was thinking about that, actually. Uh, so, you know, we managed to like, pull all the greenlight out of the monster dog and turn it back to normal, right? Using a bunch of crystals. But, like, uh... I have this now.” He held out his hands, palms up. A tiny ball of green light appeared hovering over each of them. He quickly closed his hands into fists, making the lights disappear, and continued. “Maybe I can just pull the greenlight out of the paperpillar by myself. I mean, if that’s a good idea. Do you guys think it is?”

Chase squirmed in his seat a little, but no one was looking at him to notice.

“Do you think you can do that?” Stacy asked. “I mean, in movies and stuff people always have to learn magic and get better and stuff through practice. Pulling out the greenlight seems hard.”

“I, uh, I have been practicing,” Marvin admitted, sounding a bit embarrassed.

JJ nodded excitedly. He can make shapes!

“Make shapes?” Schneep repeated. He leaned closer, intrigued. “How? Can we see?”

“Oh, uh... s-sure.” Looking uncharacteristically nervous, Marvin cupped his hands together, holding them over the table palms-down. A translucent green golf ball appeared on the table under his hands. Then it shifted to a cube. Then a pyramid. Then a squiggly sort of cylinder. Then Marvin lowered his cupped hands over the shape and it disappeared.

“Cool,” Chase breathed.

Very cool! JJ signed. He can also make glowing stars, like the kind that goes on ceilings, they look so nice at night. And he can make tiny hands and ropes to move and grab stuff.

Marvin laughed. “Y-yeah.”

“Wow.” Jackie grinned. “So, you’re kinda like Green Lantern, then.”

“Who?” Marvin asked.

“He’s a superhero.”

“Oh. Well, I’m a witch.”

“We are getting off topic,” Schneep said, shaking his head. “The point is, do you think you can do that? Pull the greenlight out?”

“Uh... I mean, I don’t think I can really practice that,” Marvin said slowly. “Not without something that has greenlight in it. And the only thing we know about like that right now is the paperpillar. So... we kinda just have to try.”

“If crystals can make greenlight more powerful, maybe we can bring some to try and help you out?” Stacy suggested.

“That’s a great idea!” Jackie said, grinning. “Okay, I think we have a plan. We meet after school one day—oh.” They paused for a moment as the server returned with their fries and drinks. “Thanks.” After everyone had their order, small talk with the server was done, and the server had walked out of earshot, Jackie continued. “We’ll meet after school one day. Go into the basement to find the paperpillar. Most of us will try to distract it as Marvin tries draining the greenlight. If he can’t do it, we’ll run and try again some other day.”

“We’ll need somewhere we can defend, then,” Chase said. “A fort of some kind.”

If we’re doing it after school, maybe we can lure it out of the basement and into one of the classrooms? JJ said. There are sets up in one of the Theatre rooms we can hide behind.

“That sounds perfect,” Stacy said.

“Okay, but before we start talking about more details and stuff, can I ask something?” Chase said. “Has anyone found out anything new about the Circle? Or that Jack guy who looks like Anti?”

A chorus of various ‘no’s rang out around the table. “The same teachers are being weird, but nothing actually happened all week,” Marvin said.

“Maybe they’re not going to do anything,” Stacy said optimistically. “Maybe they’re just going to keep an eye on us to make sure we don’t say anything.”

Schneep frowned. “I do not trust grown-ups like that to not do anything. Just because nothing has happened yet does not mean nothing will happen ever. They are probably just waiting for a good time to... to...” He looked down into his soda glass and went quiet. Chase leaned a bit closer, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. Schneep squeezed back.

“We still have to be careful,” Jackie said. “Try not to go anywhere in school alone. And definitely don’t trust strangers.” He paused. “You also asked about Jack, right, Chase?”

“Mm-hmm.” Chase nodded. “Did you find anything? I didn’t.”

Jackie shrugged. “Got confirmation from some Band kids that Jack moved back to Ireland right after the school year ended. But they didn’t know anything else about where he’d go. One of them knew his parents’ names, I guess... guess I’ll try looking online or in phone books for their names? Gonna be hard covering all of Ireland, though. So it’ll take a while. And for the life of me, I can’t figure out why Anti would look like that guy.”

“Maybe it’s random,” Stacy guessed. “Maybe Anti just started looking like the first person he saw when he came out of the dark place.”

JJ frowned. Maybe. But I think there’s a connection. It’s just not clear why.

“Yeah.” Chase paused. “Well... back to the paperpillar, then.”

The group talked some more, hashing out the specifics, and agreed to try fighting the paperpillar after school that Monday. After that, they talked some more about school. Mostly complaining about tests and homework. JJ and Schneep insisted it wasn’t that bad, while everyone else universally agreed it sucked. Even Stacy, which surprised Chase, since she seemed like the smart type. Jackie did point out that school was important, but he was probably only doing that because he felt like he had to, as the oldest one in the group. After the school discussion, they talked about games and movies and books for a while before it was time for them to all go. Mostly because Jackie’s shift was about to start and it would’ve been awkward for the kids to stay there while he was working.

But, as Schneep suggested, Chase hung back, waiting. When everyone was gone but him and the twins (Schneep agreed to wait outside) he tapped Marvin on the shoulder and said, “Hey. Can I, uh... talk to you?”

Marvin looked at him. Then he looked at JJ. Then back at him. “Yeah. Do you mean alone? Should JJ leave?”

“Uh... I guess not,” Chase said. “I was just wondering if you wanna... hang out? Sometime this weekend? Not like, the whole group, I mean. Just you and me?”

“Um...” Marvin looked confused. “Sure, but why?”

“I wanna hang out with you,” Chase said. “I don’t think I’ve done stuff with just you before. Or, uh, just you,” he added, looking at JJ. “If you and me wanna do something after this, we can.”

JJ smiled a bit. That’d be great, but I don’t think I’d have the time. I have a lot of classwork to do. But you and Marvin can do stuff together. I don’t mind.

“You sure?” Marvin asked.

I’m sure.

“Alright, then.” Marvin looked back at Chase. “What were you thinking?”

Chase shrugged, trying to look casual. “Whatever you want to do.”

Marvin stared at him. “...shit. What do I like to do?”

JJ laughed, seeing the blank look on his twin’s face.

“Oh shut up.” Marvin shoved him. JJ shoved back. The two of them were distracted by a shoving contest for a couple seconds before Marvin suddenly went “Oh!” and looked back at Chase. “I got it. Do you wanna go watch a movie?”

“A movie?” Chase repeated. “Uh, yeah. Sounds fun. The theater’s closed on Sundays so we’ll have to go tomorrow—”

“Oh, not at the big cinema,” Mavin interrupted. “Have you seen the small one on Everson Street? It’s just called ‘Hollewych Motion Picture Cinema.’ It’s kinda old.”

“Uhhh... I think I’ve seen that?” Chase hadn’t really thought much about it, though. It was just part of the background of that street. “You want to go there?”

“Yeah, we go there all the time during school holidays,” Marvin said, gesturing to him and JJ, who nodded. “They don’t usually show new movies that just came out, instead they screen a lot of ones that are already out. Some of them are kinda old, too, but they can do anything that’s on DVD. We can go tomorrow or Sunday, they’re open all the time. And nobody usually goes there so it’s not as crowded. Which is great.”

“Okay. Sure.” Chase nodded slowly. “I don’t know if Mom will let me go see a movie by myself.”

“Why not? Doesn’t she let you go to the library and park and stuff alone?”

“Yeah, but I dunno. Something about a movie seems different. But, uh, maybe if I say Jackie is going too, that’ll work out. He can... watch a different movie. While we watch ours. If he’s cool with that.” Chase glanced towards the kitchen doors. Jackie had disappeared through them a couple minutes ago. “I’ll ask him. Does that work?”

“Yeah, fucking perfect.” Marvin smiled a little. “So... talk to your mom and Jackie about times and stuff. Then call JJ.” JJ waved. “And I’ll pick up.”

“Got it.” Chase nodded. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“See you later.”

And with that, Chase turned and left the restaurant.

++++++++++++++++++++

Chase was correct; Mom would not let him go to the movies without someone else. When he asked why, she said it would be dark so anything could happen. But she agreed to it when he said Jackei would come. And thankfully, Jackie agreed, too. He picked up Chase Sunday morning, and together the two of them picked up Marvin and drove down to Emerson Street.

This was in the center of the city, where a lot of the older buildings were. Hollewych Motion Picture Cinema sat right on the street. That was a bit weird, since the other theater in town, the Cineworld, was a bit off the street, surrounded by parking lots. Posters were plastered on the sides of its concrete building. There were no posters outside HMPC, only a couple of those signs with the removable letters hanging on the side of the brick building. Marvin, Chase, and Jackie walked up to these signs. They listed the prices for tickets and the movies that were currently playing, times included.

“I brought extra money if you guys need help covering your tickets,” Jackie said.

“No, I got it,” Marvin said. “JJ and I know how much it costs. We use his allowance money for it. I got just enough right here.” He put a hand in his pocket. “But all of this looks boring.”

“Uhhh I wouldn’t mind watching a couple of these,” Chase said. “But, um, yeah. You can choose. I dunno what you’ll want to see if it’s all boring to you, though.”

“Don’t worry. I have a plan.”

There was a ticket booth next to the theater’s entrance. Marvin walked right up to it, leaving Chase and Jackie to follow. A man sat behind the glass in the booth—a boy, really, not that much older than Jackie. He wore a nametag pinned to his shirt that read ‘Nick.’ He wasn’t really paying attention to them, instead reading a thick-looking textbook propped up on the counter. “Hey,” Marvin said.

The guy—Nick quickly closed the textbook. “Hi, what can I do for you toda—Oh hey, Marvin.” He looked at Chase. “Did Jameson get shorter?” Then at Jackie. “Or... taller?”

Marvin grinned. “No, this is my friend Chase, and the beanie boy is my friend Jackie.”

“Oh, nice to meet you two.” He stared at Jackie for a minute. “Aren’t you that kid with the name change?”

Jackie looked a bit nervous, but smiled. “Uh, yeah, that’s me.”

“Alright.” Nick looked back at Marvin. “What can I get for you today?”

“Do you have an empty theater?” Marvin asked. “Your listings are boring.”

Nick laughed. “Yeah, one’s empty right now. What d’you want to play?”

“Can we watch, uh... that bridge movie? The sad one?”

Nick’s eyes widened slightly. “That’s, uh... probably a bit too sad for your friends’ first visit here. Don’t want to make a bad impression.” He laughed again, just to clear the tension. “How about The Princess Bride? Or maybe Narnia? We’ll be getting the sequel to that soon, y’know.”

“Narnia is good,” Marvin said, looking a bit disappointed but getting over it quickly. “Two for that.”

“Um, what’s playing in the theaters next to the empty one?” Jackie asked.

“We have The Godfather and Spider-Man 2.”

“Oh hell yeah. I’ll have a ticket for Spider-Man 2. Can I just walk in?”

“Yep, go ahead. I think it just barely started.” Nick bent over, fiddling with something under the counter, and reappeared with three yellow tickets. Marvin and Jackie paid for their respective tickets and Nick passed them over, along with some change. “Alright, you two head to Theater 2, it’ll be a moment to get it started. Jackie, right? Yours is Theater 3, it’s to the right of 2. Enjoy your movies.”

The three of them said their thanks and headed inside, Marvin in front. The interior of the small theater was done in shades of warm yellows and oranges against contrasting black. There wasn’t much in the main entrance, just a small counter for concessions manned by a woman with curly blond hair. She was also familiar with Marvin, handing him two small bags of buttered popcorn. Chase watched this and wondered how often the twins came here if the staff knew them on sight. Or maybe not many people worked here. Maybe both.

They walked down the one hallway, with Marvin talking as they went. “This style of, uh, interior design is called ‘art deco,’ JJ really likes it, and I can get where he’s coming from but I think I like ‘art nouveau' more, it’s much more swirly while this one is all angles. And here we are!” He stopped in front of a pair of theater doors.

“You guys have fun,” Jackie said, continuing down the hall. “Text me if anything happens. I’m not gonna silence my phone.” He laughed. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t!” Chase said. “You have fun too!” And he followed Marvin into the room.

There were only five rows of seats in here, and the screen, while much bigger than any TV Chase had ever seen, was way smaller than regular movie screens. The chairs in here looked a bit old, their red fabric cushions faded, but there was something nice about it. “You gotta sit in the middle,” Marvin said, inching his way into the third row. “That way you’re not too close or too far away. But if there’s a lot of people they always go for the middle, too, so if it’s full, I prefer the back. But it’s not full now.” He sat down in the exact middle of the row. Chase sat next to him, and Marvin passed him one of the popcorn bags. “Cool, huh?”

“Yeah.” Chase nodded. “Um... so... I wanna watch the movie, but I... also want to... talk to you about something.”

Marvin stared at him. He nodded slowly. “Okay. Let’s wait for a bit. Watch the start of the movie.”

“Okay.” Chase nodded back. “Um... I don’t think I’ve ever heard of this one. What’s it about?”

“Oh, you haven’t?! Okay, so...”

Marvin had just enough time to explain the basic plot before the lights dimmed and the film started. Chase tried to relax, but he couldn’t. He was busy mentally preparing what to say. And then... well, he was a bit confused. “I thought you said this was a fantasy movie,” he whispered to Marvin.

“I said that they went into the fantasy world,” Marvin replied in a normal volume. “They have to start in the real world first. You’ll see. The beginning is, like, ‘oh my god,’ but then they go out to the country and find stuff there.” He paused. “Also you don’t have to whisper. It’s just us in here.”

“Riiiight.” Chase nodded, going quiet for a moment and trying to pay attention for a bit. Marvin didn’t have any problem with that. He was immediately sucked into the movie, eyes glued to the screen even as he ate popcorn. Chase almost hated to interrupt him. But he had to. So, when the movie seemed to be slowing down, he spoke up again. “Um... can we talk now?”

Marvin glanced at him. “They’re not even in Narnia yet.”

“Yeah, but... but I-I wanna talk before we get too into it.”

Marvin sighed. “I guess that makes sense.” He put the popcorn bag on the seat next to him and looked at Chase. “What is it?”

“I, uh...” Chase’s mind went blank. He fidgeted with his own popcorn bag for a moment before putting it aside and blurting out, “I’m an idiot.”

“Okay.”

“Wha—You’re not gonna, like, say that I’m not?”

“A lot of people are idiots,” Marvin said. “I’m an idiot. But we’re smart in other ways. I thought you were establishing a rapport.”

“A what?” Chase repeated, confused. “What the heck is that?”

“It’s uh... You know, I don’t actually know how to explain it.”

Chase shook his head. “Well, I wasn’t doing that. I was, um, opening up to something. I’m an idiot because... because I didn’t realize I’d made you upset again. When we figured out you had greenlight powers, I said they were weird. I, uh... i-it took me a while to realize you, uh... got... your feelings hurt.”

“...oh.” Marvin stared at him, then looked back at the movie. “That’s fine.”

“No it’s not!” Chase protested. “I didn’t want to upset you! I... I’m sorry I did. I wasn’t really thinking. I was just... using the same word I always would’ve and didn’t think about the context. I’m really sorry. You’re not weird.”

“Yeah, I am.” Marvin didn’t look back at Chase. “I’m an idiot, but I’m not fucking stupid. I like wearing capes and others don’t. I talk a lot and others don’t. I get upset when the lights in the school are too loud and others don’t. I’m a fucking weirdo, Chase. And you don’t have to pretend I’m not. I know. People think I don’t know, but I do. I mean, I didn’t used to know, like when I was really little, but by now, I’ve figured it out. I’m not normal. I’m weird. Fucking... deal with it.”

“...oh.” Chase wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “I, um... It’s not a bad thing. To, uh... not be normal.”

“People always say that,” Marvin sighed. “But like... even though I don’t get made fun of or anything, the difference feels bad sometimes. Like—like—” He gestured vaguely. “Like, everyone is painting a picture, but my paints are different colors. And I can mix colors and stuff to get something that’s sort of close to what everyone else is using, but it’s not right, and everyone can tell. So, like, fuck it, right? Might as well use my own colors. At least then everyone’s looking at my painting. Even though they like everyone else’s better.”

Chase nodded slowly. “Um... I like your painting, though.”

“Uh... I don’t actually have a painting. It’s a metaphor.”

“No, I know. I know what a metaphor is, I’m okay at English class. And I’m keeping going with this one. I like your painting. I like how you use different colors.”

Marvin finally turned to look at him, surprised. “But... you...” He paused, struggling for words. “You keep... It’s... I’m a magic weirdo, though.” He raised one hand, a little baseball-sized sphere of greenlight forming in his palm.

“I like that you’re a magic weirdo,” Chase explained, grinning. “Look at that! That’s so cool. You can just, like, make stuff. Freaking amazing, bro.”

“And... the cape and stuff?”

“I’m not gonna lie, it was, uh, strange at first, but now I know you and it’s also cool.”

Marvin blinked. “I’m... confused.”

“Uh... how do I say this...” Chase looked up at the ceiling, thinking. “If we talk about it like paintings again, I think... I think a lot of people want their paintings to look just like what everyone else wants to see. Maybe they’re drawing a bowl full of apples, but they wanna draw a bowl full of oranges, but people like apples more than oranges so they don't. For me... I’m looking at what everyone else is painting. A-and I’m trying to do the same thing.”

“Why do you want to make the same thing everyone else is making?” Marvin asked quietly.

Chase shrugged. “I think everyone does. But that’s impossible. Everyone paints differently. Why don’t you want to make the same thing?”

Marvin paused. He shrugged. “It’s hard. And it’s not fun. And it’s not... it’s not me.”

“Yeah.” Chase smiled at him. “And I like that. I like that you’re... that you’re so you all the time. I-I wish I could be as much me as I wanna be. But... when my painting starts looking a bit different than everyone else’s, I get nervous. I-I don’t want people to look at it and think ‘I don’t like that because it’s not like mine.’ So, even if it’s hard and not fun and not me, I try to change it. But you don’t. And I think you’re really... I think you’re really brave and cool for that.”

Marvin blinked. His eyes were looking watery. “I... I-I get nervous, too, you know.”

“Yeah, but you do it anyway, and I don’t. In fact, I...” Chase lowered his head, ashamed. “I get so nervous that I don’t even want my painting to be near different ones sometimes. B-but I shouldn’t want that! It’s not fair and it’s mean and it’s not what I really want. I want to hang our paintings together.” He raised his head again. “I want to keep being friends. Screw what other people think. But I-I might make mistakes sometimes. Because I’m not used to it. So... I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

A moment passed. Marvin looked away. It took Chase a moment to realize he was wiping his face on his cape. When Marvin looked back again, his eyes were red, but clear. “It’s okay,” he said quietly. “I... I want to keep being friends, too. I’m not... good at making them. So, a couple mistakes aren’t gonna make me hate you or anything.” He smiled a bit. “But I think you should’ve said this earlier.”

Chase slumped with relief and smiled back. “Yeah. I know now. But I’m an idiot when it comes to other people’s feelings and stuff. Don’t know how to deal with it.”

“Fuck, I don’t know, either. Let’s just agree to talk about stuff right away in the future. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Marvin smiled wider. He leaned over and bumped his shoulder against Chase’s.

Chase laughed. “Oh, man. I have not been watching the movie at all. What’s even going on?”

“Oh shit, I think we missed the first moment! Alright, it’s okay, I remember what happened. So basically...”

As they grabbed their popcorn again and settled down to finish the movie, Chase felt like a weight was lifted from his chest. Huh. He didn’t even realize that was there.

++++++++++++++++++++

JJ closed the textbook, relieved to finally be done with his history notes. Carefully, he slid the sheets of lined paper into his binder, preparing them to be turned in on Monday. God, he hated taking notes. He was already good at remembering stuff. He didn’t need notes. Especially Cornell notes, ugh. They didn’t help at all! Why was his World History teacher so obsessed with them? Why did he need to prove that he’d done them?

He’d do it anyway, of course. They got graded on their notes. It’d look bad if he skipped them and got a bad grade as a result.

Well... now what?

He sighed, leaning back in the kitchen chair. He wished there was room for a desk in his and Marvin’s bedroom. It’d be nice. Doing his homework in the kitchen wasn’t too annoying, but it did mean Mam and Dad sometimes poked their heads in to ask if he was working. Which... obviously he was. And... obviously they were interrupting him. Obviously.

JJ stood up and put his binder back in his bag. Then he headed out. He could hear the TV playing from the living room. Sounded like one of Granmam’s shows. Maybe after he put his bag back in his room, he’d come back down and sit with her. She didn’t mind it when he was there.

Sometimes he and Marvin wished that their grandmother could stay with them all year. Everything seemed... somehow better when she was there. But they knew they couldn’t ask her to do that. They were lucky that she stayed with them through Christmas every year. Grandparents didn’t usually do that.

He headed up the stairs. There was more TV noise coming from Mam and Dad’s room (totally wasn’t fair that they got a second, personal TV and he and Marvin didn’t even have a desk) but he ignored that and headed straight to his room. He walked in, turned on the lights, put his bag in its usual place in the corner by the door—

“Hey.”

—and then spun around when hearing the sudden voice.

Anti was sitting on the windowsill. It was narrow, probably a tough place to sit, but Anti could float so it didn’t really matter to him. He grinned when he saw JJ and gave a little wave.

JJ grabbed the nearest thing he could find—one of Marvin’s shoes—and threw it at Anti. It passed right through him and thudded against the window’s glass.

Anti’s grin disappeared. “You really like throwing things, huh? Rude. You’re so... so fucking rude.” Then he giggled, as if amused by his own swearing.

What are you doing here? JJ demanded.

“I still don’t know what you’re saying, but you pointed at me, so you’re probably asking why I’m here.” Anti tilted his head. “Your twin is off doing something right now. With someone else. Did you know about that?”

Confused, JJ nodded. He glanced around the room, wondering if there was something he could use to get Anti out of here. Maybe if he threw enough stuff at him he’d go away. He took a couple steps forward, aiming to get to the dresser.

“You did? And you’re okay with that?”

JJ nodded again. Why wouldn’t he be okay with that?

“What if Marvin stops doing anything with you?” Anti pressed. “Would you be okay with that? Are you scared of him doing stuff by himself?”

JJ frowned. He shook his head.

“You’re not scared of that?” Anti blinked. The ceiling light flickered. “What if he’s scared of that? What if he doesn’t want you to do things without him?”

Marvin wouldn’t be like that, though. The two of them had always been together, and always will be. They’d gone through a lot, told each other things that they’d never told anyone else. JJ isn’t so... insecure... to think that Marvin doing something with Chase means he’ll stop hanging out with JJ. And the same could be said for Marvin, too. Besides, they lived together. They couldn’t ignore each other forever. JJ took a couple steps towards the dresser and shook his head again.

Anti stared at him. His eyes narrowed. He seemed somehow unhappy with JJ’s answers. “What are you scared of?” he whispered. “You don’t ever look scared. You don’t ever look upset at all. But you have to be scared of something. Don’t you?”

JJ raised his shoulders. Something about this conversation was disturbing him. Quickly, he grabbed the nearest item from the dresser and threw it.

The object hit Anti in the chest, right under his neck. “Ow!” Anti gasped, catching the object as it fell. One of Marvin’s crystals. Anti stared at it. He seemed more surprised than hurt. And soon, both those feelings were overtaken by anger. He looked up at JJ, the green in his eyes flaring brighter as the ceiling light flickered wildly. JJ started backing up. “You’re terrible, Jameson Jackson,” Anti growled. “I gave Marvin a nice birthday present. Maybe you’ll get a Christmas present that’s just... as... ni͢c͏e̡.̛”

The light went out for a few seconds. JJ looked up at it. Then he looked back at the window. Though he should have been able to see Anti’s silhouette even in the sudden darkness of the room, he only saw the dark blue square of the window. And then the light turned on again. And his suspicion was confirmed; Anti had disappeared. Marvin’s crystal was on the ledge right where he’d been sitting.

JJ shivered. He walked over and quickly grabbed the crystal—and the shoe he’d thrown first. Then he put them back where he’d found them. And he thought about what Anti meant. If he’d pushed Marvin down the stairs as a ‘present,’ what did he want to do to him? The twin he didn’t like?

...It would be fine, wouldn’t it? JJ would just have to be careful to not go near anything dangerous by himself. He could do that. No need to tell Marvin or any of the others about that. Well, he should probably tell them he saw Anti. But not about the... threat. He didn’t want to worry them. He needed to not worry them. Or anyone. Ever.

JJ headed back downstairs—gripping the bannister tightly—and walked into the living room. As he suspected, Granmam was on the sofa watching one of her ‘shows,’ as she called him. She looked back as he came in. “Hey, lad,” she said, smiling. “Everyt’ing alrigh’? You look a mite pale.”

I’m alright, JJ said.

“Hmm.” Granmam pursed her lips. “Hey, c’mere t’me. Ye want to sit with you granmam for a bit?”

JJ nodded and hurried over. He slid onto the sofa and scooted up next to her. She always smelled a bit like vanilla. It was nice.

“Your brother’s still out?”

He nodded.

“T’ink he’ll want to join in when he gets back?”

Maybe.

Granmam smiled down at him. “Well, I know your parents are up for the night, so we have some time.” She leaned a bit closer and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I love ‘em, but they can be a pair of dryshites sometimes.”

JJ burst into laughter.

Granmam grinned right back. “Not Marvin, o’course, he’s grand. He can come right in if he wants to. For now, let’s have a moment, yea?”

JJ nodded. He leaned his head on her shoulder and stared at the TV. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but that wasn’t really the point of watching shows with Granmam.

Nothing to worry about. No need to worry anyone about anything.

Neither he nor his grandmother saw the shadow walk down the stairs, stare down the hall at them, and then disappear into thin air.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #jacksepticeye au #chase brody #marvin the magnificent #jameson jackson #dr schneeplestein #jackieboy man #brigid writes fanfiction #pnptau

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rose-grimm-spirit-does-dumb-shit · 23 days

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https://www.tumblr.com/rose-grimm-spirit-does-dumb-shit/715689037962280960?source=share all of them for alton towers/theme parks in general but I'm especially curious to hear 25

Oh fuck I forgot to respond for almost a year. Warning, a lot of the "god I hate the fandom" moments will mostly be directed at the wider community {e.g. this includes the old toxic nemesis fanboy 40 year old men and such}. The tumblr side of theme parks most of the time have semi-good takes. Anyways uh first on the docket 25: I fucking hate how for some god awful reason there's a consistent hate for the Dockyard Trio at thorpe, I'm talking The Walking Dead: The Ride, Ghost Train, and the late Black Mirror Labyrinth. Like come the fuck on man, give them a chance. They're great, especially if the circumstances align, what you want is a live actor tw day, a dead queue bml run {the high guest throughput is unfortunately what made her seem more shit than she is}, and to just let Ghost Train do her thing as her acting squad are honestly a lovely bunch who wanna give you the best they can.

24: I think right now it's who the world record for fastest accelerration on a rollercoaster is, it rightfully belongs to my bbygirl Stealth of course but if you try to talk about this to Americans, especially Six Flags Americans they will be inherently pissed because it's not Max Force.

23: There is none that I've come around to, but then again there is none I'm inherently against either.

22: The fact that the Marmaliser is it's own sentient being, it's creature but not crreature it's creature inn like how humanns are creature.

21: The 2019 Blair witch scaremaze at Fright Nights, because I'm sorry but it was genuinely dogshit. The finale was a shed that you can't see shit in, and there was supposed to be an actor there.

20: Do I need to bring up Blair Witch 2019, again.

19: I'm a Dead Creek Woods lover, and so many people would shit upon me for that take.

18: LYCANS V AMITY, SO MANY OF YOU ARE SLEEPING ON THAT AND BIRTHDAY BASH TO THE POINT THAT IT'S SAD. THEY'RE AMAZING, SHSUT UP.

17: Can we get Saw/Hyperia actually, they seem incredibly enemies to lovers/besties lesbian. That and general interactions between them in general, like Hyp kept cutting Saw's power over the summer I want people to expand upon that.

16: The idea of Th13teen being a child, like c'mon man just because the adverts had a child and the countdown audio iis a child doesn't mean your oc has to be a child too?

Branch out, be adventureous. Maybe your th13teen is a raceway-membeer who went missing.

15: The Smiler being a silly guy, like silly guy is fun and I admit I commiit to osilly guy too. But the thingi is, Smiler is more than that. Yes Marmal is a silly guy but she alsoo has issues and traumas and witnesses some cracked shit in the moj.

14: See above.

13: S E E A B O V E.

12: Everyone from Thorpe Carnival, especially the Junkyarders. Please they're so cool and fun and the actors who play them are legends, we drew mimes and they thought it was fucking amazing.

If they come back next year, please giive them the world.

11: I have none, tho I did learn that there was a point when we considered General Public as a slur fsr?

10: How whenever you look up Thorpe maps, you wilil be guaranteed to see someone's map mockups where it has planet snoopy and shit like that. The existence of them is annoying bc it clogs up search when you're looking for a specific map only to find 20 fan mockups instead.

9: The Asylum, I am so glad we've moved from that but god... Not the mental institution maze...

8: Holds up the Dockyard Trio, again.

7: I don't think there's anyone.

6: Whenever Stealth or Rita are in a straight ship it fucking irks me out of raw "broooo...", tho I think the only exception is RetrowaveRacer's bc that one doesn't bollock the vibes of Rita.

5: I've only been in 2 ddsicords, both were/are lovely. But I have heard so much bollocks about the others :)

4: Conocerningly, a lot of the time it's either pedophiliia, racisim, or ableism.

3: Gonna name drop this one as ironcially it's someone who was blocked because of the above. ANYONE REMEMBER MTCHIKA'S DOGSHIT THORPE TAKES ABOUT INFERNO "NOT DESERVING TO BE A NEMESIS" AND TWD BEING AND I QUOTE "boring ip boring ride".

2: I don't think about it nor do I have an opinioni on it.

1: Fuckin' Nemesis, entirerly because there are people who forget the fact that she's cannonically a woman.

Happy now?

#ask gamme #god this took ages

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succubus-interactivefiction · 1 year

Text

New IF idea (You’re the Villain)

Another idea came to mind as I was tossing and turning and since it has developed itself so quickly I’m adding it to the queue. As such it will be a long while before I begin active development and not just world-building. After one of my current projects is finished I will be working on Memories of Death and then this new one. So it will probably be a few years but I felt like sharing the basic idea now. Please be aware this game will ALWAYS be a female MC with female ROs Warning: This game/story is 18+ and will feature GRAPHIC depictions of violence, gore, death, and blood in addition to sexual themes and alcohol/drug use.

https://dashingdon.com/play/happysuccubus/no-title/mygame/

Evil, vile, irredeemable. They called you all these and more not out of spit or hatred but because it was all true. You are the Goddess of brutality, blood shed, and murder, rather you were before your imprisonment. Life, Death, Light, and Darkness may have been the oldest of the gods having been born at the beginning of this world but you are one of the first to be born from the savagery of the first caveman to beat his neighbour to death for no other reason then to take what they had. With each murder, each brutal attack, each act of violence you became stronger and more aware until you finally awoke.

For millennia you strode across the world fuelling the base savagery in humanity, feeding off their blood shed and growing more powerful with each drop of blood spilled and you revealed in it. Eventually you fell into the same savagery that you fuelled. When you murdered a fellow God your power grew exponentially and set humanities development back centuries as an entire civilization fell to ruin overnight as it was wiped from the face of the world with it's Gods death.

With that single act you condemned yourself as Gods from across the world fell on you in a battle that lasted decades, but each attack whether it was yours or directed against you simply increased your power and many more fell too you before a solution was discovered. The most virtuous and stalwart Gods and their followers backed you into a trap, one designed to keep the power that was rightfully yours from reaching you. They knew that they could never kill you, so the cut you off from your power.

Millennia have passed since your imprisonment confined to your sarcophagus buried deep in some forgot temple in the middle of a desert. You can feel all the violence, the bloodshed, the power that flows through the air caressing your skin but slipping from you grasp each time you try to take it.

You long ago lost track of time but something has shifted in the stagnant air of your tomb and you know that soon your imprisonment will be over, just as soon as the humans foolishly making their way toward you lift the cover of your sarcophagus and then, then you will walk the world once more and feed on the violence that comes oh so naturally to humanity.

Take on the role of the Goddess of Violence, Brutality, and Murder, as you try to find your way in a modern world drastically, changed in the millennia since your imprisonment. A world where the Gods you knew have been all but forgotten with new Gods rising to take their place, Gods who have no inkling as to who you are or how powerful you can become. But your time imprisoned has changed you, there is something at your core that has been irrevocably altered, something that is growing day by day with each act of hope the humans perform.

Play as a female, either cis or trans, and customize the appearance of your vessel, your style, personality, and how you go about reeking terrible violence.

Make choices that will change the world, whether that change is for good or ill is up to you.

Remain the Goddess of Brutality or embrace the change in your core and become a Goddess of Hope.

Slaughter your way across the world, no one is safe, not even other Gods.

Even the Goddess of Violence can find love, romance one of four women. Two Goddesses and two human. One evil, one good, and two who can be swayed to see the world the way you do.

Three polyamorous routes exist two triad and one vee.

#happysuccubus #interactive fiction #writing #future IF #no title #you're the BBEG!!!!#be evil #redemption #redemption arc #is it really redemption?#lesbian romance #poly #polyamourous

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barbwritesstuff · 1 year

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Top 5 TV series!

I forgot I put that 'top five' thing into my queue and wasn't sure what prompted this message until I scrolled back through my blog.

Thanks for the ask, anon! I hope you're ready for some unpopular (and very dated) picks.*

5. Art Attack

Look, I was a lonely kid. For much of my childhood it was just me and my brother... and this very keen British man who taught me how to turn scrap paper, paint, and foil into my own spaceship cockpit. Ideas from this show allowed me to decorate my room as a kid, got me through high school art class, and saved my arse several times when I was a kindergarten teacher in South Korea.

One of the best informational programmes ever made. They should bring it back.

4. Air Crash Investigation

I'm sorry. I know it's cheap. I know it's tacky. I know all that. But I love this show. I love learning about and solving mysteries that aren't murders (sorry Sherlock), and the terrible acting makes it so much better. I can't watch this show with people, because I always try to guess the cause of the crash before the end of the episode and yell it out... and I don't know anything about planes to I'm usually very wrong.

Example:

Me: "It's the bulkhead! Check the bulkhead, you fools!"

Voice over: "The investigators check the bulkhead, but find nothing."

Me: "Yes! Because it's clearly the wings, like I've been saying all along."

3. Justice League Animated Series

I got into this series really late. I'd just moved out of home for the first time to go to film school and was having a hard time making friends. I don't know how it happened, but I somehow ended up watching the entirety of the DC Animated Universe during that time, which is impressive, because internet was expensive and terrible where I was living, so I had to go to the library, download episodes, and walk the 45 minutes home carrying my massive old laptop. It was a feat, but it was worth it. This show did what the Avengers couldn't, made me love superheroes.

2. Yu-Gi-Oh!

When I was 12 I was the best Yugioh player in my school. Sure, it wasn't a big school, and not everyone was into the game, but it was still a big deal for me, especially as I was also the only girl who played. The game has since evolved way beyond my skill level, but at the time, I was a god among mortals. 12 year old mortals, but still. I got up early every morning to see the latest episode, and then I went to school ready to d-d-d-d-duel.

Xena: Warrior Princess

I'm sorry. This show is just so nostalgic for me. For a while, I grew up on a farm with no actual TV signal, but we did have old VHS recordings of Xena and I watched it religiously. Lucy Lawless is amazing and this show is forever the best thing to come out of the 90s (and I say that while also, myself, being a product of the 90s). It has:

Monsters

Magic

Mayhem

Queer Love (not explicitly stated, but this wasn't queerbaiting, this was censorship, they were a couple by the mid point of the series, they just couldn't say it, so instead they made a lot of unsubtle sex jokes and came up with obscure reasons why they always had to kiss to save the world).

Aotearoa (New Zealand is the most beautiful place on the planet, I'm sorry if you disagree, you are wrong).

Tonal whiplash (not just between episodes, but sometimes in the same episode, and it was wild)

One very horny vampire episode

Xena can sometimes fly without any explanation

They met an early reincarnation of Jesus and he was a conman living in India?

You know that scene where Character A gets hurt and Character B goes absolutely feral? This.

Leather bikinis and ninja kicks except it's ancient Greece, maybe

The musical episode was the best episode

They fight on ladders a lot and I just think that's neat

*Disclaimer: I am into more modern and normal things but I'm in a nostalgic mood, so these are the things you get to hear about today.

#tv shows #top 5

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literaticat · 1 year

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Hi Jenn. Happy holidays! So when you get a contact from an editor, does your client know? Do you tell them? Do they know when you send it on to the contracts person at your agency? Do you look at it first?

(I assume in the first line you meant "contract" - if you didn't, sorry I guess I'm answering the wrong question.)

Caveat as always: this is MY answer - I don't speak for all agents, different agencies work in different ways. Sorry for the extremely long answer to your short questions, if you just want the short answers - sometimes, sometimes, we don't have one, yes. Here's the long answer:

A crash course on how offers and contracts work from MY perspective:

When we have an offer on a book from an editor, my client knows about it immediately. I might get the offer by phone or in an email, but either way, I get something in writing (a "deal memo") that I can share with my author. We confer, I ask them for their thoughts, I give them my thoughts, I explain what things mean as necessary. I go back and forth a bit with the editor to negotiate the terms that my author and I discussed and finalize the deal memo. This includes basically all negotiable terms -- advance, payout, royalties, subsidiary rights, etc.

When I get the editors response, my client knows immediately - - and my client is the one who has to say "yes please accept" or "no, don't accept yet" -- I cannot accept an offer on their book without their say-so. They are VERY MUCH in the loop on all steps.

THEN, the deal memo leaves the editor's hands and goes to the contracts department to be made... into a contract! Most contract departments are way overworked and way understaffed, and this process can take weeks or months. There's nothing to tell the author at this point, because it's out of all of our hands and with the contract gods.

At some point, I will get a draft of the contract -- this usually comes from the publisher's contract's department, not the editor. The draft of the contract should be the already agreed-upon / negotiated terms of the deal memo in the form of our agency boilerplate. What that means: We have contracts with every publisher, and have language that has already been established with them, negotiated after years and years of back and forth. That is our boilerplate. (Every agency has their own boilerplate!) -- If one of us gets some improvement, we can often integrate that into our boilerplate, so ideally, the boilerplate includes our best possible language at that time. But we don't have to re-negotiate the whole contract over and over -- the deal memo is the only part that usually has to be negotiated, and that is done at the time of the offer!

So your actual question was - does my author know that I got the draft? Maybe? If we are chatting about something else I might mention "oh hey, I got the draft of your contract, it's in the queue and you should have something to sign shortly" -- OR if they ask, OR if it has been a particularly long time or something like that -- but in the normal course of things, I wouldn't really feel a need to loop them in at THIS point, because the draft is just a draft and may have problems I'd like to address first before showing them.

At MY agency, we do not have a separate "contracts person" -- we do all our own contracts (with the help of assistants and with our extremely robust database of comparison contracts / best terms / etc) -- personally I prefer that, as I like to know exactly what's going on! So I read the contract draft, comparing both against the deal memo and our most recent contracts, to make sure we have the best language and all the terms we agreed on. For the most part, the "problems" with contracts are like, typos, confusing wording or the like, or they forgot something in our boilerplate or added something new, but it's not a huge problem. IF there is something that is wildly wrong about it, like the publisher is trying to CHANGE our boilerplate dramatically, we do have lawyers who can chime in, but most of the time it is pretty straightforward.

I review and send my notes about what needs changing back to the contracts person, they review, we may have a back-and-forth about it, they fix the issues (this whole process might take a few days to a few weeks). Again -- at THIS stage, my author is not usually in the mix -- UNLESS there is some problem that I need to explain to them. Like "We agreed to such-and-such, but the contracts person is saying that is against their new policy and want to change what we agreed to-- so I just need you to understand what that means and tell me if it is OK to accept" -- or "We are running into a problem because the publisher is trying to insert morality clause language into new contracts that we cannot accept -- our lawyers are fighting with them about it but until we get the new language sorted all contracts with this publisher are being held up."

But like -- 95% of the time it is all totally normal, there are no huge problems, and so there's really no need to bring the author in yet. The publisher fixes the issues and send me the clean contract, I review it once more quickly just to make sure they changed everything correctly, and THEN I share it with my author, who reads it, or I walk them through it if they need, they let me know if they have any questions, which I answer, and if there are further changes I ask for them but usually we are good to go at that point and can sign!

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seradae · 1 year

Text

You can read the previous chapters here or on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43928488?view_full_work=true

The Spire

Chapter 7: Mission: Burrito

They strolled casually along a walkway in the Donut, on the hunt for some Mexican food to offset their day drinking. "This place really is what they said it is. Honestly, I figured they oversold it, but it is genuinely incredible," Lou said, more thinking out loud than anything else.

"Well, I hope you don't get the impression that this place is some sort of utopia. We have our fair share of problems, like any other city our size," Erica explained. "We crossed 150 thousand permanent residents last year, which is a lot of people to pack in. And our consensus process is too slow to keep up with the changes."

They walked in silence for a bit, as Lou turned that over in their head. "What is the process now? What's the bottleneck? That seems solvable."

"Every proposed change to our laws has to be agreed to by a majority of owners within a two week period. When there were few of us, that wasn't a problem; we could get in a room and figure things out in an hour or two. But now there are just too many of us, so we're butting up against the two weeks more and more."

"How many owners are there?"

"Over 25,000! I remember when it was barely two hundred," she sighed. "It makes Washington gridlock look like child's play."

Lou thought for a moment and then asked, "and there's no way around it?"

"There's also an emergency change process that can be invoked by a group we elect every six months, but that was only ever used once. If it's used, the law only takes effect for one week and the group is immediately disbanded," she explained. "That makes running around the owners virtually impossible. It's a good system to have in place in case there's a real emergency, but doesn't help us otherwise."

"What if each proposed law was put into a separate queue based on who or what it affects, and anyone could vote on it, but only those who 'subscribe' to that topic are required? I'm sure most of the owners don't care about most of the issues, right?"

"Huh, that's ... Actually a really good idea," she said, mulling it over.

They grinned, "you know, I do have those from time to time."

"Shut up," she laughed, prodding them with her elbow. "You know what I mean!"

They arrived at the restaurant and took a seat, ordering food and drinks. "Margaritas cancel out champagne, right? Pretty sure that's how it works," Erica joked.

They chatted jovially while they waited for their burritos. When they came a few minutes later, she took a bite and sighed. "Only place off-world to get a Mission-style burrito. So fucking good."

"You're not wrong -- damn," Lou said between bites. "I got so burnt out on them, haven't had one in a few years. Remember that place we hit when we met up in the bay last time?"

"Oh god, I forgot about that trip. That was when you were first interviewing with CCA; feels like an eternity ago," she reminisced. "You were so damn nervous, even though they were the ones trying to get you."

"Six years next April! Though I keep getting older, and every year the students seem even younger. I don't know how much longer I can do it, honestly," they took a long sip of their margarita. "I've been thinking about retiring. Just going back to the studio and painting for fun again. It's hard feeling so out of touch."

Erica reached across the table and took their hand, her brow furrowing. "You've mentioned retiring so many times. What's holding you back? It's not like you need the money."

Lou laughed sadly. "Where would I go? What new challenge do I have ahead of me? You know me. You know that if I don't have something to occupy my mind, I start to spiral."

"You could go anywhere! I know that's more intimidating than it is exciting, but c'mon. You could finally move to Barcelona like we always talked about." As the words left her lips, she knew she had said too much.

"That was our dream. Not my dream," they huffed. Then they quietly continued, "you're never coming back, are you?"

Erica let go of their hand and looked away, staring off into the distance for a moment, her eyes unfocused. "No. I don't think I am. This place isn't perfect, but I can't imagine being earthside for more than a few weeks at this point."

"I kinda got that feeling. Radical honesty: how much of this trip was a sales pitch to get me to move up here?" They finished their drink and caught the waiter's eye to signal for another round.

"It was ... a factor. I honestly just missed you and I wanted to see you. But I also wish you'd consider coming up here too; I wanted to show you all that this place has to offer. Show you the kind of life you could have. That we could have, together."

"This place has been your goal for a long time, but it was never mine. I don't know if I could give up Earth like that. I know that traveling back and forth is pretty painless, but right now when I'm feeling uninspired, I can hop on a train and be at the Louvre in two hours. Or I can go to New York for a gallery opening in an hour. I don't need to plan it, I just do it."

"You're right. You'd be giving that up here; that spontaneity. But imagine the things you could do here! You could finally get a studio in the industrial ring and finally build the types of kinetic sculptures you used to dream about. Inspiration? It's hard to beat the views we have, even ignoring some of the amazing galleries. Our art community is small but amazing. And ... I'm here."

"And you're here," Lou whispered, looking into their drink.

#lesbian #txt #wlnb #wlnb love #scifiseries #scifi writing #writing #the spire

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chidoroki · 2 years

Text

ahh i’m so mad for forgetting it was tpn’s 6th anniversary today.. i dunno how i can never remember that date. i don’t have anything planned though, which sucks because it’s kinda the most important day of the series ya know?? HOWEVER! i already finished my edit for emma’s birthday last week, so that’s pretty darn early for me! okay so it’s like 99% done, i gotta figure out one final touch, but yeah. and then isabella’s should be next but that’s not til september anyways. i remember very few birthdays..still upset i forgot about today though! i know i can always post something later this week but then it’s late! and that’s even if i get an idea in the first place hhmmm..

but in my defense it was an important day for me for a completely different reason though.. little Kona turned one today!!! love her. she’s too cute. she actually shares a birthday with my late great grandmother so that’s kinda sweet. (maybe now i won’f forget tpn’s anniversary either)

aside from that i feel like last week was real busy/eventful. dad had actually tested positive for covid tuesday so since we had dinner together the day before i worked from home all last week just to make sure i was okay (which i am thankfully). i don’t mind working from home, it allows me to sleep in a bit but having two screens instead of three is always a troublesome adjustment, and annoying if things get too stressful. every now and then there’s also some nights where i can’t even fall asleep and just feel incredible anxious..why i dunno. it feels random honestly.

it hasn’t been all bad though. i decided to read ahead with the paripi koumei manga and oh my god, the love i have for eiko is IMMENSE!! i honestly wasn’t expecting to get more of her backstory, but i’m so happy we did. i thought we were just gonna focus on the summer sonia concert stuff next, but it seems that is gonna be the final goal. so i’m really loving the direction the manga is going now with creating more songs and learning more of eiko’s past/family. it just makes sense. i debated in writing a whole post on it but idk yet, we’ll see. i dunno how often the manga updates, but i’ve only seen sites have up to ch49? but aahh i want her to succeed so badly! i really hope we get another season because i need to hear more of her lovely voice! THEN i forget what day i read ch113 of ft 100yq but MMHHMM that gruvia body swap! their reactions were great and i loved every moment and of course i’m looking forward to see how gray fights with juvia’s magic. i’m eagerly waiting for the day we get a trailer for the anime too.

then finally.. FINALLY the black clover manga is back! and i still think it’s hilarious that the three month hiatus started right as i finished the anime, like of course that’s just my luck! i think i caught up for just two new chapters then poof! break time! my friend has been begging me to watch since the anime started so i pushed it off for years, til something just.. clicked within me? i remember the movie trailer was announced months ago and friend was excited about it and naturally tried to convince me to start the series once more and i dunno exact words, but i’m pretty sure he compared it to fairy tail (which i sorta figured from the start anyways) but then said everyone from the squad got more focus/backstory, and i was like.. oh? so, that kinda did it for me. and damn it, i ended up loving the series. a lot. but better late than never i suppose! (and he totally has the right to say “told you so,” he deserved it. he even predicted that vanessa would end up as my favorite. so he’s right. again.) so sorry not sorry for all the spam. my queue was filled over 250+ at one point and stayed like that for weeks because i just kept adding more to it. it’s finally back around 50ish now because i FINALLY gone through the whole anime yet again (why do i queue all the gifs chronologically? i dunno!! i forget which series i started doing this with but now it feels necessary for me to do so! lowkey kinda hate it, makes it seem like i’m insane ahaaa. but now all that’s left is artwork that i can fangirl over, thank god!)

but now that the manga is back i’m debating on writing chapter reviews for it, though i doubt they’ll be as long as those i’ve done for tpn, but hhmmm. it’s just funny how i decide on doing such a thing whenever a series enters their final arcs. well, i say that but i haven’t done any for mha in.. years. probably won’t start those up though. i still read it sure but the story is meh to me sometimes. i enjoy the characters more and unfortunately those i really love don’t get much spotlight, maybe just a moment or two recently. always debating on reading ahead for no guns life too since i have no clue if the anime is gonna continue, but i definitely won’t for fire force since season3 has at least been confirmed, whenever.. same with tokyo revengers even though i’m getting real tempted with that one. and for the love of god i have to remember to read the psycho pass manga still! or however much i can find of it anyways!

what else is happening in my world right now, umm. almost a month away from splatoon3 thank god. i haven’t played my switch in a hot minute but once i got that then mmmhmm it’s over. then. scarlet & violet a couple months after too. OH! pokemon.. the masters 8 tournament has been bittersweet for me. the battles are rushed, even most take one episode, some of the moves and outcomes are just.. upsetting and strange. like i’ll never get over how dirty the writing handled the leon vs alain match. my boy deserved so much better. lance vs diantha was okay i guess and ya knew cynthia was gonna win against iris no problem. but then that battle with steven and ash.. idc what people say but there’s no way he should’ve won. after all that damage pikachu took from mega-metagross, he wins by one z-move and an iron tail of all things?? what?? (i think? i dont remember, i was annoyed). only bright side are all the cameos we’ve been getting. they only last a few seconds but they grant me SO MUCH happiness! seeing mairin, the johto trio, drew AND harley?? my heart was ecstatic! and i’m sure they’ll save all of ash’s traveling companions for his final match with leon, or at least i’m hoping so. i better see may and serena again darn it!

oh, and no joke but i swear i actually had a fucking contestshipping dream last night, which isn’t too surprising since i do indeed love them very much, but it was just randomly timed? like why now and not last month around their actual day when i rewatched all their episodes ya know?? but whatever. all it was was drew calling up may after some contest lose (in johto im assuming) to cheer her up. then some light teasing of course. that’s all i needed.

sometime during my incoherent rambling i did get an idea for an tpn anniversary edit. so i’ll definitely start on something for it tonight or tomorrow, unless i get caught up playing more pmd sky.. i started a randomizer yesterday and i’m enjoying myself. nostalgia hitting hard. but i would seriously love a new mystery dungeon.

#talking to myself #edit: as im posting this i just noticed a pokemon presents was announced for august 3rd! HELL YEAAHH more scarlet & violet news babyyy!!!!

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aphrodite-made-me-write-it · 2 years

Text

Habits - Part 2

(A/N) this ended up longer than i meant it to be bc i was editing it and thought,, lemme add more. dunno. anyway, hope yall enjoy! staying up late to work on some oneshots and the series update a;lskdf;lak figured i’d queue them as i finished them. almost midnight, so fingers crossed! once again, read that fic i linked in the first part bc it’s fantastic and send that author love.

Rating: E (Explicit for p0rn with minimal plot. it’s more relevant in this chapter, i think, but it’s v much just smut. 18+ only)

Warnings: fuckboy!yelena; PISSED!Natasha; R gets railed by a strap on; yelena is the jealous type; natwanda is very background sorry; emotionally abusive parents; mentions of past physical abuse; dw r’s parents are p much ignored in this lmfao they play such a minor role i kinda forgot they existed lowkey; this is a bit angstier than the first

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader; Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff (background)

Chapter Word Count: 10.8k

Total Word Count: 30.1k

Synopsis: It’s been a few years since you last saw your childhood best friend, Natasha, and her little sister, Yelena. Transferring colleges leads to you needing a roommate, and that roommate just so happens to be Natasha. Not much has changed between you, you’re still thick as thieves. Her sister, however, is a completely different story.

OR: The part where you build a glass castle and it comes crashing down.

not my gif

Russian Translations: Malyskha - Babygirl / Milaya - Sweetie / Kratsoka - Gorgeous / Lyubov’ - Love / Dorogoy - Darling

You wake up feeling way more relaxed than usual. You can’t recall having slept so soundly in your life, and the bed feels so much more comfy and warm than you can remember it ever being. You turn over, snuggling deeper into the blanket that feels strangely human.

Wait.

You open your eyes and nearly jump out of your skin when you meet a sleepy green gaze. Yelena blinks slowly as she takes you in, the gears in her mind still slow with the morning.

“Natasha is going to murder me.” You whisper, moreso to yourself than Yelena.

The blonde stretches her arms and legs with a long groan, releasing you from her hold so that you can sit up as much as you can on the stupid couch. You force your gaze away from her naked body, instead focusing on the hall leading to the front door.

“Doubt it,” Yelena says at last, her already deep voice even huskier with sleep. Oh god. She’s so hot. “I won’t let her.”

“You’re her little sister.”

“Yes, and?”

“And I’m her best friend.”

“And…?”

“And she’s going to kill me.” You whine, biting your lip.

Yelena scoffs. “Shouldn’t the person on top be the one she kills? How does she know I didn’t seduce you?”

“I don’t think she’ll care, seeing as you’re her-”

“Oh, enough with that shit.” Yelena sits up, doesn’t even bother to cover her chest. “You want this. You want me. I know you do.”

You meet her eyes uncertainly, but you don’t deny it. Why lie now, when she’s already proven her point? “But if she-”

“I’m an adult. You’re an adult. We’re adults who want to have sex.” She shrugs. “She can’t do anything about it.” You’re finding it harder and harder to resist that logic when she keeps looking at you with obvious want. Sensing your crumbling resolve, Yelena continues: “If you really don’t want to, we can stop. But I think you do want to.” She leans in close, her breath warm on your ear. “I know you want to. You were practically dripping last night, malyshka.”

You inhale sharply. Yelena smirks, clearly well aware of what she’s doing to you. Your heart is hammering in your ears, thunderous. “We can’t let her find out.” It’s a pathetic whisper, because you’re desperate for a way out of this that doesn’t ruin your entire friendship with one or both of your favorite human beings.

“You have a beautiful mind,” Yelena purrs, beginning to pepper kisses along your neck. “And a beautiful body,” her hand finds yours where you’re covering your breasts. She eases your hands, her kisses skirting along your collarbone.

You move your hands to cup her cheeks, redirecting her mouth onto yours. Yelena hums, smiling with her victory. She maneuvers herself on top of you, easing you onto your back while her tongue and teeth make you forget everything but her.

Your phone buzzes from somewhere on the floor. You freeze. Yelena sighs, lets you reach around blindly for your jeans. Several missed texts - and calls - from Natasha, and another text from Carol.

Natasha’s don’t surprise you.

did you make it home ok? (11:23pm)

your silence tells me no (11:30pm)

did you end up fucking carol? (11:34)

answer your fucking phone dumbass (11:47pm)

wanda says you’re probably asleep. if you dont text me before noon tomorrow i’m going to hunt you down. (12:01am)

final warning before i rush to the apartment. (11:45am)

You hurriedly type out a text: sorry! just woke up! i was just really tired!!! Im alive, no need to terrorize my peaceful sunday. (11:46am)

“Who is it?” Yelena asks, laying back down on top of you as if you hadn’t moved at all.

“Nat,” you whisper, frowning. “She was gonna come check on me. If we’re going to keep doing this, we should set some ground rules.”

“Ugh,” Yelena groans, “I hate rules.”

“And I don’t want Natasha to catch us with your hand between my legs.” You huff, chuckling a little.

Natasha responds:

she lives! (11:49am)

almost brought wanda and yelena to drag you out of bed (11:49am)

i’ll be home late. Wanda wants to spend our last day of freedom indoors ;) (11:50am)

You wrinkle your nose. tmi. enjoy ur sex day. (11:50am)

She sends a slew of emojis in response and you roll your eyes, almost clicking out of the messaging app when you remember Carol texted you.

hope you made it home safe last night! sorry if i came on a little strong, i think i just misread the situation. I promise im not a total horndog. I’d love to buy you a coffee sometime? :) (8:21am)

Yelena tilts her head to read your screen and groans again. “Jesus, can’t she take a hint?”

You snort. “She’s actually being nice, Yelena.”

Her arms tighten around you. “But I’m nicer.”

“I’m not going to go out with her,” you surprise yourself with the confidence in your voice. “And you don’t have to be, like, jealous of her.”

Yelena smiles, ducking her head to blow a raspberry against your collarbone. “I’m not jealous.”

“You sound a little jealous.”

“Maybe I just don’t want to share.”

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. Remember that thing I mentioned earlier that you said you hated? This is one of those magical things. I believe the word is-”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Yelena nibbles at your neck.

You smile, unable to help yourself, and set your phone on the coffee table. You comb your now free hand through Yelena’s hair. “And… you won’t, um- do anything with anyone, either?”

“Of course not. You’re the only one that I want.” The tenderness in her tone makes your heart melt unexpectedly. She kisses your neck, leaning back to meet your eyes again. She looks so overwhelmingly fond of you, you can’t help connecting your lips. It just feels right, laying here with her.

Her eyes dart to your neck, a new grin on her face. “Can we continue where we left off, or…?”

You breathe out a laugh. “You’re insatiable. Sure, but we should move it to the bedroom. This couch sucks.”

You’re in for a long Sunday.

(“Holy shit, Lena,” you gasp, several hours later, when you finally get a look at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Your neck, collarbone, and torso have hickeys of varying severity, the ones most visible unfortunately being the ones that are the hardest to cover.

“What?” The blonde in question slips in behind you, sliding her hands to your hips as she looks at your reflection admiringly. “I don’t see a problem?”

“What the hell am I gonna tell Natasha? That I was wrestling with an octopus?”

“Does my sister often see this much of your body?” Yelena snickers.

You roll your eyes, but lean back into her embrace. “No, but when she sees the entire continent of Europe on my neck she’s going to be a little bit suspicious.”

“You’re so paranoid. She and Wanda are way too absorbed with each other to notice something as ridiculous as a few hickeys.”)

- - - - -

“Holy fuck, were you wrestling with an octopus?” Natasha asks, catching you in the kitchen much later that evening. Yelena had left two hours ago, and you’d spent most of that time sleeping.

“Uh- something like that.” You had hoped your hoodie would cover most of the damage.

Natasha grins that shit-eating grin you’ve come to know and love. “You hooked up with Carol, didn’t you?”

“Um-”

“Told you she was hot.” Natasha brushes past you to open the fridge. “So that’s why you slept ‘til noon.”

“I always sleep ‘til noon,” you scoff. “You’re the freak who gets up with the sun.”

“That’s literally when you’re supposed to wake up.”

“Says who?”

“Humanity.”

“I don’t associate myself with those.”

The rest of the evening, Yelena occasionally texts you and you do your best to hide it from Natasha. If she notices the constant checking of your phone, she doesn’t comment. In fact, she looks damn pleased with herself at what she must believe was a successful setup. You’re definitely just digging yourself into a deeper hole.

You talk about upcoming classes, and then you start to feel shitty about yourself so you go to bed early. You’re tired anyway.

(The longer you hide this, the worse it’s going to get. You should just say something to Natasha. ‘Hey, by the way, your sister sort of came onto me and now I think we’re dating. That’s fine, right?’)

(You’re so, so fucked.)

- - - - -

Your last real Halloween was - surprise surprise - when you lived in Ohio. After that, you were too old to trick-or-treat and didn’t have enough friends to be invited to parties, so. Yeah. Naturally, upon hearing this, Natasha is insistent upon throwing a Halloween party to make up for every single one you’ve missed.

Your last time celebrating, Yelena was just small enough that you could all get away with scoring free candy off the neighborhood. You’re positive she hated it, but you sure as shit loved free candy so she didn’t put up too much of a fuss. (It’s shocking, to think back to what she’s done for you and you alone.) You and Natasha had been pirates that year, so in memory you’re pirates this year. Of course, you’re adults now, so the costumes are a lot more risque than they had been years ago.

Yours is a corset with one of those flowing tops and a ridiculously tight pair of pants. This is the last time you ever shop for pants online, you swear this to every god you know by name. Unfortunately, Natasha had invited Carol under the impression that she was your regular hookup given that Yelena hadn’t stopped her habit of leaving hickeys wherever she wanted.

Speaking of- you know Yelena was invited, but she likes to show up late. She’s probably working on her homework - as much as she pretends that she isn’t, Yelena is somewhat the academic type and at least gives effort into her assignments, albeit last-minute. You keep looking at the door, expecting her to walk in, and after about half an hour of this Natasha starts to notice.

“Who’re you waiting for? Carol’s over there,” she frowns, confused.

Of course, Carol is talking to one of her friends. You recognize the woman, but you’re too distracted to place a name to a face right now.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you clear your throat. “It’s- I’m not looking for anyone.”

“Yelena’s on her way. Says she got caught up.” Natasha frowns at her phone. “I think she’s hooking up with someone. She’s been in a good mood lately.”

“Oh?” You force your voice to remain even. “Any ideas on who it might be?”

“Not a clue. She’s learned how to hide her tracks.” Natasha sounds genuinely frustrated at this. You laugh at her pout.

“I’m sure it’s nothing. Can’t someone just be happy for the sake of being happy?”

She eyes you warily, but her response is cut off by the front door opening. Speak of the devil, it’s Yelena. She’s wearing what you can only assume to be a military uniform of some kind. She’s wearing the vest you bought for her, as well as camo pants and combat boots. Her cheeks have solid lines of black, the main indicator of her costume.

It hits you, very sharply, how goddamn gorgeous she is. It’s honestly an outfit she’d probably wear on a normal day out, but she looks so good in it, you forget to breathe for a second. The rest of the party feels muted, somehow, in comparison to the beam of light Yelena brings to you just by entering the room.

Of course, you have to play it casual. A cordial greeting, an inside joke to show Natasha that you’re totally normal, not at all having sex with each other.

Drink two, and this is when you start feeling Yelena’s eyes on you. She’s always so aware of you, you doubt her gaze ever left you since she’d entered. Still, you pretend you don’t notice, even when Carol starts chatting you up.

“You look great,” she says, smiling that friendly smile of hers.

You aren’t flirting, but you aren’t exactly ignoring her advances, either. It’s a relatively innocent conversation about classes, when lacrosse season starts. Easy stuff. Basic shit, really. It’s enough, though.

You felt your phone vibrate.

Your room. Ten minutes. (11:38pm)

It’s from Yelena, of course.

You can’t count down the minutes fast enough. Natasha is long-gone in her conversation with Steve, Wanda and Pietro, and Carol has returned to her friend. Perfect timing. Nobody even notices your absence.

Yelena is, unsurprisingly, waiting for you. There are more guests than usual, so locking the door and barring entry shouldn’t raise too many eyebrows. At least, in theory, it shouldn’t. This is honestly the most risky situation you’ve found yourselves in since you started this whole thing.

The moment the door is locked, she’s on you. She’s kissing you hard, like she can’t get enough of you, her hands pawing at your corset like an overager teenager. You try to laugh at her eagerness, but it’s cut off by a squeal when her hands grip your ass.

“You’re forgetting who you belong to, malyshka,” she warns lowly. You gasp when she pulls you impossibly closer. “This is the perfect time for a reminder, don’t you think?”

And that’s how you find yourself half-naked with Yelena between your legs, eating you out like it’s her job. Her tongue flickers against your clit, urgency in her actions. She wants this to be quick, but you have the sense that she’s battling against her urge to make you last longer.

You’ve been keeping quiet for the most part. Or, as quiet as possible when you’re being gravitated towards a mind-shattering orgasm. Yelena is just unfairly good at making you want to scream, so you end up biting your pillows and your fist to keep from making too much noise.

And when you finally - finally - reach that precipice, Yelena is right there, holding your hand above your head and swallowing your moans. Once you’ve caught your breath, she settles herself over your face, and you make quick work of returning the favor.

When you return to the party, you’re positive your makeup isn’t as nice as it had been before your impromptu session with Yelena. If Natasha notices, she doesn’t comment. Still, this is the first time since you’d started this whole thing that you feel that raw, unnerving guilt gnawing away at the back of your mind.

(Part of you wishes she’d just find out already. That she’d question why you and Yelena always seem to disappear together, or why you have so many of Yelena’s shirts.)

(She never does.)

(You hate what you’ve become.)

(You love your bad habits.)

- - - - -

“I don’t understand where this is coming from.” Your mother’s tone is, predictably, nothing short of cold and clipped as she talks to you. “Why would you spend Thanksgiving in Ohio? Are you seriously contacting your father again?”

“No, mom, I’m not contacting Dad.” Your handful of weeks fucking (dating?) Yelena in secret were going incredibly well. Unfortunately, when things go well for you, there tends to be something to completely destroy whatever scrap of happiness you’d found for yourself. That something, typically, is your mother. “I’m going to spend it with Natasha’s family.”

A pause. “The Russians?”

“Yup.”

An even longer pause. “I just don’t understand. I take you out of that hellish state, I make sure you get into a good college - that I pay for, by the way - and this is how you thank me? Leaving me for your father? Don’t you remember what he did to me? To you?”

You cringe. “Mom, I’m not-”

“As if leaving me for strangers is any better!” She snaps.

“I’ve known her since we were like, seven! I haven’t seen her parents in years, they practically raised me when you and dad couldn’t be bothered-”

“Don’t take that tone with me. I don’t know what you think you’re referring to, but that is not how I remember the situation. Fine, you had one friend growing up and I’m happy you’ve reconnected, but this is ridiculous.”

You chew the inside of your cheek, tasting blood. “You said you were working that week, anyway.”

“And I’m not allowed to want to come home to my child?” She scoffs. “If you want to be ungrateful, fine. You had better come here for winter break.”

With this, she hangs up, and you finally let the stupid tears you’d been fighting come freely to the surface. You would, literally, rather die than cry in front of your mother - even if it’s on the phone. Maybe it’s just a stubborn habit you’ll never kick.

Yelena was the one to ask if you could go. You were genuinely excited to see Alexei and Melina again, even if it meant pretending you weren’t betraying their eldest daughter by getting railed by their youngest. There’s no proper etiquette of tricking your best friend into letting you follow her to Ohio because you’re fucking her little sister, so it took a bit of hinting on Yelena’s end to convince Natasha to ask their parents and, eventually, you.

School work was already piling up, so that’s probably not helping the uncontrollable crying. You never could manage your emotions well when work was piled up. Feeling stupid and just sad, you reach for pretty much your only source of comfort lately: one of Yelena’s ridiculously large hoodies. They’re big on her, so the sleeves go easily past your fingers. It smells like her.

“(Y/N)?” The door opens, temporarily surprising the sobs out of you. You look up and find Yelena in the doorway. Her expression changes instantly. She’s at your side, pulling you into a tight embrace. You sink into her hold, burying your face in her neck. “What’s wrong, milaya?”

“Nothing,” you sniffle. “It’s stupid.”

“Nothing that makes you upset is stupid.” Yelena murmurs, kissing the top of your head.

“My mom,” you offer lamely. “She’s just pissed I’m not going to hers next week.”

Yelena holds you tighter. “Is she going to try to send you back to New York?”

You snort. “No, she wouldn’t do that unless I somehow got pregnant.”

She sighs. “There go my plans…”

“Shut up,” you laugh, pulling away in an attempt to wipe away the wetness still on your cheeks. Yelena takes your face in her hands, though, and thumbs the tears away for you.

“Are you okay?” She asks, frowning.

“I’m fine. She’ll get over it.”

“So you’re still coming?” The hopefulness in her voice makes your heart swell. You connect her lips with yours without thinking about it, matching her growing smile with one of your own.

“Of course I am.” You pause. “Why’d you come over, by the way? Not that I’m complaining.”

“Oh!” She looks uncharacteristically sheepish. “My roommate is out until after classes tomorrow. Do you want to come to mine?”

You’ve only been to Yelena’s dorm once when she’d first moved into it. It’s small, but it’s removed enough from Natasha’s circle of friends and acquaintances that you and Yelena might actually get some quality time together without worrying about jumping apart at any sound from the hallway.

It’s changed a lot since then. Yelena’s roommate is the studious type - Maria Rambeau is her name - and her mother was in the air force; her side of the room has all sorts of cool pictures of her mom and Maria as a child. She’s also on the lacrosse team with Yelena, or so you’re told, so the two get along pretty well.

Yelena’s side of the room couldn’t be more different. Where Maria keeps her things tidy and organized, Yelena’s more of the ‘organized chaos’ type. Sure, things are haphazardly thrown about, but everything has a place and you’ve no doubt she could find anything in her half of the room. It’s also pretty obvious where the dividing line is, too, which makes you laugh because the same thing had been the case when she and Natasha shared a room as kids.

(For years - until you and Natasha were fifteen, actually - Yelena couldn’t sleep alone. You think it has to do with the orphanage in Russia, but you’ve never pried and you don’t plan on it.)

She unceremoniously shoves her folded laundry off of her bed and into the basket they’d certainly just been pulled out of. You take your spot closest to the wall while the blonde grabs her laptop.

She doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around your shoulders once she joins you, and you lean into her without question. It’s strange, how quickly you’ve adapted to this. It’s like you and Yelena were just always meant to be this way. Inevitable. Your dirty little secret has become a bad habit, and you can’t get enough of it.

Yelena, to her credit, at least gets through the first twenty minutes of the movie before she starts peppering kisses along the fading hickeys on your neck. You pretend not to notice at first, dedicatedly staring at the screen even when her kisses become heavier, more insistent. (She’s cute when she’s impatient.)

Eventually, your indifference makes her growl a little in frustration and you can’t resist laughing.

“What’s the matter?” You ask, feigning innocence.

Yelena arches an eyebrow at you. Very much an, ‘are you serious right now?’ look. “Oh, we’re playing this game, now?”

“What ever do you mean, Yelena?” You bat your eyelashes at her. “I’m not doing anything.”

She juts her lip out into a pout. “(Y/N).”

“Yelena,” you whine mockingly. “If you want something, you should just say it.”

“I want to fuck you.” She grabs one of your hands, guiding it into her lap. You freeze when you feel it.

“Have you been packing that this entire time?” You breathe, suddenly sounding hoarse.

Yelena grins. “Maybe.”

She’s mentioned her strap once or twice in passing, but usually you went at it like rabbits whenever you were alone in your apartment together. You haven’t exactly had the time to go out and buy one yourself, but Yelena apparently bought one a few days after you started your… thing.

It’s a little bigger than you’re used to, but you think you’ll manage seeing as Yelena’s favorite pastime is bringing you to the edge and easing you away from it just before you could reach it.

In minutes, she’s tearing off your clothes, the laptop set precariously aside. It’s easy to fall into this, easy to succumb to the tender kisses and the promises of pleasure she brands into your skin with every touch and kiss. It’s getting easier to ignore the guilt, too. Too easy, probably.

Maybe, part of you thinks, maybe Natasha will be less angry when she finds out just how deep you’re in it with Yelena. Not that you and the blonde talk about it very much, but there’s something heavier and needier in your interactions than just lust. Something deeper. You have a feeling Yelena is waiting for you; always, she’s waiting for you. She’s too patient with you. You haven’t taken the first step in your entire fucking life.

Your thoughts are interrupted when Yelena bites down on your inner thigh, earning a mixture of a hiss and a groan. You look down at her, meeting her gaze. The warmth in her eyes is almost too much to bear.

“Eyes on me,” she instructs.

Yelena has learned every inch of your body and exactly where to touch you to make you weak with pleasure. Her tongue is the perfect weapon, bringing you to near-tears until she stops suddenly. You gape at her in distress, whimpering while she chuckles at you.

“Patience, malyshka. I don’t want to hurt you.” Yelena eases herself on top of you again, kissing you gently while the tip of the strap prods against your entrance, then your clit. Your hips twitch impatiently. Yelena grabs them with one hand and pins them to the bed easily, preventing any movement much to your dismay.

“Yelena,” you whine. “Please.”

“Aw, but I like watching you like this.” She rubs against your clit again, slowly, tantalizingly. “So desperate for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “I’m desperate for you. Please just fuck me.”

Yelena hums, slowly easing the strap inside of you. Your breath catches and Yelena places kisses on your neck, cheek, and then lips while reminding you to breathe. Yelena likes to fuck you roughly, sure, but there are so many little moments like this where she’s so gentle with you that it reminds you, sharply, of how much she actually cares about you. (And how much you’re starting to realize you care about her.)

When you’re adjusted to the size, you give Yelena an almost imperceptible nod and she begins thrusting inside of you. You always thought that people who said sex with someone you’re deeply fond of was better, but every time you have sex with Yelena your disbelief is put to scrutiny. It’s just better, you can’t explain it. Something in the way Yelena watches your face for signs of discomfort, or signs of pleasure; or maybe it’s the way that, even when she starts pounding into you with purpose, she always - always - kisses you like you’re the only thing in this world that matters.

Yelena grabs one of your legs and hitches it around her waist, finding a spot deeper inside that makes you see stars. You’d been trying your best to keep quiet - you’re certain these dorms aren’t perfectly soundproof - but this completely breaks that willpower. You’re keening, back arching high as your hips twitch helplessly in Yelena’s grip and your nails rake down her spine. The blonde is glowing with this small victory, hissing in either pain or pleasure or probably both.

“You look so pretty, spread out for me,” she murmurs, biting teasingly at your earlobe. “Like you were made to take my cock like this.”

You let out a harsh breath when her fingers find your clit, releasing your hips as her other arm supports her weight. “Fuck! I’m- Yelena I’m close-”

“I know,” she hums, examining your neck with pride. “You know how to earn it, malyshka.”

“Please,” you rasp obediently, “please, Yelena. I need to- I’m so close I- please let me-”

You’re cut off by an animalistic moan as the blonde pounds into you, the breath knocked clean out of your body. She leans back enough to look at your face, your eyes threatening to close as you barely hang onto the edge.

“Look at me,” she purrs. You force your eyes open again. “That’s it. Good girl. Cum for me. Go on, that’s it…”

Your orgasm quakes through you, sending you into a series of whimpering moans of her name. She murmurs in Russian, encouragement you think; it doesn’t really matter what she’s saying, honestly, because it’s always so fucking hot when she does that.

While Yelena slows down, you happen to glance over her shoulder at the mirror that just so happens to be at the foot of the bed. When you notice how flushed you are - how completely, utterly wild you look - beneath Yelena’s rocking body, you feel an unexpected wave of arousal.

Yelena pauses in her thrusts, following your gaze perhaps out of instinct, and when she looks back at you she’s got a shiteating grin on her face.

“You like watching me fuck you?” She asks, almost sounding impressed. You nod mutely, blushing out of embarrassment. “Well, why don’t we give you a better look, krasotka?” She pulls out of you unexpectedly, the sensation causing you to gasp. “Hands and knees for me. Face the mirror.”

You aren’t a narcissistic person. You aren’t even the type to gawk at yourself in the mirror for that long when getting ready. Yelena brings a lot - a lot - out in you. You find yourself following her orders without question, body practically buzzing with anticipation.

When she pushes into you again, Yelena is relentless. Ruthless. You can hear the shitty old twin bed groaning with every thrust but you don’t care. You can’t tear your eyes away from the image of Yelena pounding into you, fingers bruising your hips, her cheeks flushed and eyes dark.

Catching your gaze in the reflection, Yelena grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls. “That’s right, malyshka. Look at me when I fuck you. Look at how beautiful you look, taking me like this. You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes- yes- I’m yours-” you gasp, watching the way your bodies move together. “Fucking hell, Lena-”

“And who makes you cum like this?” She moves a hand to your clit, toying with it almost boredly.

“You! Only you!” Your hips twitch against her movements, all your muscles tensing when she finds that spot deep inside you again.

“Gonna cum again for me?” Yelena rasps, thrusting harder and faster. “Go on, lyubov’. Cum again.”

Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head. The wave of pleasure is so intense you swear you actually blackout. Yelena lets you ride it out, pressing kisses on your shoulders and the back of your neck as you struggle to move again.

When you’re able to breathe, Yelena pulls out and removes the strapon. You connect your lips in a slow, passionate kiss before rolling her onto her back. Your limbs feel like jelly, but that’s fine. You don’t need arms and legs to eat Yelena out.

You’ve come to learn that, while Yelena enjoys fucking you as roughly as she pleases, she prefers softer sex herself. You think she gets off on the intimacy more than the actual sex itself. She likes soft kisses, lingering touches. Her body is an instrument, finely tuned, and you’ve learned just how to play the perfect melody

She doesn’t make much noise, but you revel in the little gasps and moans she makes in your descent down her body. Her body is far more reactive than she is vocal; hips move constantly when you find those sensitive spots of hers. (Her stomach, her thighs, just between her breasts, under her ear-)

Yelena breathes out your name like a prayer when you finally give her what she wants. You suck softly on her clit, looking up to find so much intensity in her green eyes you’re tempted to look away. She always looks so enraptured by you. Like you put the stars in the sky. It’s almost overwhelming.

(Almost.)

But when one of her hands finds yours over the fucked up blanket, fingers slotting between your own, and the other cards through your hair, you feel like - maybe - you’re putting stars in the sky right now. This moment, this little world you’ve created - it’s just for you and Yelena.

Yelena’s hold on your hand tightens. She’s already close. You ease her into her first orgasm with practiced precision. You don’t slow down, moving your free hand to press two fingers inside of her. She keens at the sensation, eyes never leaving yours.

When she comes again, she pulls you up to her mouth so she can kiss you hard. It’s a lazy, slow kiss that makes your heart ache and sing all at once. After a few moments, Yelena pulls her blanket around the both of you. You lay your head on her shoulder, feeling so tired you can barely think.

Sleep, as it always mercifully does when you’re next to Yelena, comes surprisingly easy.

- - - - -

You wake up only a few hours later. You have to get back home before Natasha’s last class finishes up. You get dressed reluctantly, mind still a little slow and body far less willing to leave Yelena’s side. The blonde offers to walk you out and it’s damn near impossible to resist those eyes of hers. She even gives you one of her hoodies again, taking back the other one (“Now it smells like you, take this one.”)

You’re in such a doofy, happy haze you don’t notice someone saying your name until you feel Yelena’s entire body go RIGID. Alarmed, you turn around to find Carol - yes, that Carol - hurrying towards you with that puppydog grin of hers. Yelena immediately has an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close against her. If looks could kill, Carol Danvers would be on the floor in an instant.

“Hey, Carol,” you greet, forcing a smile. “Sorry about- uh, that um-”

“It’s fine,” she shrugs it off like it really is nothing. “I was actually going to ask you why Natasha thinks we’re dating?”

Your jaw drops. “She- she thinks what?”

Carol glances at Yelena nervously, but you’re pretty sure it’s not out of fear. “She was asking me how things were going with us.”

“W-what did you say to her?”

“I said you were probably too busy for a relationship.” She looks at Yelena’s arm around you. “But I see that I was wrong in that assumption.”

“It’s… a weird story. C-can you do me a favor and, um, not tell Natasha about… this?”

Carol looks between you and Yelena several times. You can’t read her expression, but it’s certainly more surprised than it had been when she initially saw you and Yelena together. “She… doesn’t know?”

“Not exactly.”

“Your own best friend doesn’t know that you’re dating her little sister?”

You cringe. “It’s-”

“A weird story?” Carol nods, looking immensely uncomfortable. “Uh, yeah, sure, I’ll keep it under wraps. Only ‘cause Yelena is our best addition to the team and I can’t have her hating her captain before we even start the season.” She gives the younger woman a casual smile. Yelena relaxes ever so slightly, but she doesn’t remove her arm. “But you should probably say something to her sooner rather than later. Y’know, kinda like how you should tell people you’re into someone else before you give them your number?” At your expression, she snorts with laughter. “I’m kidding! It’s fine. I could tell you weren’t all that into it. I thought you were just getting over a breakup or something.”

“Well, this was a fun chat.” Yelena clears her throat. “Bye, Danvers.”

“Later, Belova. (Y/N).” The two women share a respectful nod in departure.

You wait until you’re in the stairwell to kiss Yelena on the cheek. “Look at you, being all jealous again.”

“Can you blame me? She was obsessed with you.” Yelena scoffs, but there’s a smile fighting at her lips.

“She texted me like three times and it was to make sure I made it home alive when I ditched her at a club.” You roll your eyes.

You make it to the ground level, and Yelena pauses.

“Do you think she was right?” She asks.

You frown. “About what?”

“Telling Natasha.”

You feel like you’ve been punched in the gut. The thought of losing Natasha hits you full-force. She’ll never forgive you for this. This is her sister - her baby sister - and you’re sneaking around with her.

“(Y/N)?” Yelena presses.

“I don’t know,” you admit, a lump rising in your throat. “I-I mean, we’ll have to eventually, right?”

Yelena studies your face for a long moment. “Is there a problem with that?”

You feel something hot stinging at your eyes. You blink it away. “Besides losing my best friend?”

“You won’t lose anybody.” Yelena takes your face in her hands. Ever tender, her eyes warm and expression soft. “I won’t let that happen.”

“You can’t promise that, Lena,” you lean into her touch, closing your eyes to hide the stupid tears rising in them. “You guys are all I have, you know?”

“I know.” She presses a kiss to your forehead. “And so does she.”

“Not yet. Please?” You meet her gaze again, desperate for that warmth. “I’m not- I’m not ready for-”

“Okay,” she kisses you gently. “Not yet.”

(You wonder how long you can make this ‘not yet’ last.)

- - - - -

“I had the weirdest conversation with Carol today,” Natasha says casually, sitting beside you on the couch and propping her feet up on the coffee table.

“Oh?” You ask, trying to sound a million times less anxious than you’re suddenly feeling. You keep your gaze on the TV, not even caring about whatever it is this week’s baking challenges are. “What was it about?”

“She says you guys haven’t talked since you ditched us at Woody’s.” Natasha is definitely not buying this. At all.

“Oh,” you clear your throat. “Yeah, we, uh, haven’t.”

“Which is weird, ‘cause I could’ve sworn the next day you had a million hickeys on your neck.” She pauses. You can feel yourself starting to sweat. “And you’ve got a few more today.” She’s pawing at the collar of your shirt so you swat her hand away irritably.

“Am I not allowed to have a fuckbuddy?” You ask lamely.

“Of course you are! It’s just weird that you feel like you need to hide it from me, that’s all.” Natasha eyes you for a long, long moment. You should just do it now, get it over with. So what if there are no witnesses to whatever crime she decides to commit against you. “Do you not trust me or something?”

“No!” You look at her fully now, well-aware that the blood has drained from your face. “Of course I trust you, Nat! You’re my best friend.”

“So why all the secrecy?” She presses. “Is it someone I know?”

“D-does it matter?”

“I guess not.” She pauses, then looks down at your shirt. “Oh, are they on the lacrosse team with Yelena?” You must look really fucking stupid, because Natasha takes this as confirmation. “You can’t tell me you’re keeping it from me ‘cause Yelena had a crush on you all those years ago!”

“W-what?” You croak, suddenly able to breathe.

“You didn’t know?” Natasha snorts, leaning back against the cushions. “I thought it was pretty obvious. Doesn’t help that her first ‘real’ girlfriend was like a spitting image of you.” She scoffs, shaking her head. “It was cute, though. Her first crush.” She nudges you with her shoulder so you laugh awkwardly.

“I had no idea,” you offer.

You are a really, really shitty friend. (And, probably, an even shittier girlfriend.)

- - - - -

“(Y/N)! Look at you, dorogoy, you’ve grown so big!” Melina exclaims as she pulls you into a tight embrace. You return it eagerly, burying your face in her shoulder and laughing with delight.

“Melina! It’s been too long!” You release her just as Alexei pulls you into a hug. He reeks like motor oil, though he’s done his best to clean up for the occasion. He likes to work on old cars in the garage - or, he used to, and it seems like he hasn’t given that hobby up yet despite being terrible at it. (Lucky for him, Melina is often there to help.)

“We have all the food ready and waiting for you girls- you must be Wanda! Natasha has told me so much about you!” Melina moves onto the other dinner guest as Natasha moans about not embarrassing her.

You follow Alexei and Yelena into the kitchen where all three of you promptly grab a bottle of beer and clink them together before drinking.

“So, (Y/N),” Alexei begins, eyeing you with joy. “Has my daughter told you about-”

“Dad,” Yelena warns, but is promptly ignored.

“-the time I went ice fishing with my father?”

“Please stop!” Yelena yelps, grabbing your hand. “She doesn’t need to hear that story!” She begins dragging you away, her father’s booming laughter following you into the dining room.

“Is that the one where his dad pees on him?” You ask, chuckling.

“Yes.” Yelena groans, blushing hard. “I told them not to be embarrassing but with Wanda I think they’re both determined to turn over all the dirty family secrets.” She mutters a curse in Russian, causing your laughter to bubble back up.

“I like your parents,” you tell her, grinning. “I wish mine were this fun.”

Yelena gives you a sympathetic smile. “I don’t see his car outside. I don’t think he’s home.”

You shrug. “He’s probably at the bar. He’ll be home later, though.”

“And you’ll be here.” Yelena hasn’t let go of your hand. She squeezes it now, the most PDA you’re both willing to risk at the moment. “I wish I could have protected you then. Did Natasha ever tell you about how I almost went over to your house with my lacrosse stick?”

“No.” You blink in surprise. “When was that?”

“When you first told us… about…” She winces, and so do you. “I just picked it right up and stormed to the front door after you’d left. I was terrified he would hurt you again. Furious at the thought of it.” She breathes out an almost disbelieving laugh. “I think, even then, I knew-” she cuts herself off, looking alarmed.

“Knew what?” You press.

Yelena opens her mouth to respond, but the conversation of Melina, Natasha, and Wanda cuts her off. You drop her hand, nearly jumping away from her as you take a long swig from your beer. (You don’t miss the wounded look Yelena sends you.)

The rest of the meal is spent jovially, but you can sense something is off with Yelena. She’s quieter than usual, less willing to join in the conversation. Natasha must notice, too, because she sends several concerned glances towards the blonde.

Natasha and Yelena still shared the one room, but the guest room was offered for Natasha and Wanda to share while you and Yelena took the girls’ childhood bedroom. You fall into bed a little tipsy, but being in such close proximity to your alcoholic father has you on edge tonight.

Even worse, Yelena hasn’t said much since she entered the room five minutes after you. You were already in your pajamas, laying on Natasha’s bed staring up at the little glow in the dark stars that they had all over their ceiling for as long as you could remember. There’s also a very distinct tiny handprint from one of those sticky hands Yelena had thrown up there when she was nine. It took a full year for it to come down, subsequently scaring the shit out of Natasha when she was sleeping.

“Is everything okay?” You ask when she begins to undress.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Her clipped tone tells you that no, everything is not okay.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me so we can talk about it?” You offer, sitting up.

She finishes getting into her pajamas in stony silence. You wait quietly, but your heart is roaring in your ears. What have you done wrong? “We don’t ever talk about things. Why are we starting now?”

“Where is this coming from?” You frown. “Yelena, just tell me-”

“Does this mean anything to you?” The question shocks you to the core. Yelena turns to face you and to your absolute alarm there are TEARS in her eyes. You haven’t seen Yelena cry since that day your mom drove you away from here. She gestures between you, apparently taking your silence as misunderstanding. “Us. Does this mean anything to you?”

“Of course it does.” You keep your tone low, eyeing the bedroom door warily. Wanda and Natasha were just down the hall. Melina may not care about overhearing and Alexei sleeps like the dead. “Why do you think it doesn’t?”

“You still haven’t told Natasha.”

You flinch. “I-”

“If this meant anything to you, you wouldn’t want to keep hiding it. Hiding us. We can’t keep this a secret forever and Natasha is my sister. I want to tell her how happy you make me. I want to go out on dates, show the world that you’re mine.” She pauses, sounding timid all of a sudden. “Don’t you want that for us?” The way her voice cracks brings hot tears to the edges of your eyes.

“Of course I do,” you swallow thickly around the lump in your throat. “I want that. I do.” You hate yourself. “But I don’t want to lose Natasha over this. Your family - it’s the only family I care about.”

“You won’t lose Natasha.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“You can’t promise that you’ll lose her, either.”

As usual, Yelena is her most convincing when she sounds so sure of herself. So confident. Has she ever doubted anything in her life? (Yes, you realize, she has. Your feelings for her. Because you’re an asshole.)

“Okay,” you relent softly. “I’ll tell her.”

“When?”

“I don’t know. Tomorrow? Just- let me think about what to say to her. Please, Lena.”

Yelena takes a slow, steadying breath. Her shoulders rise with the action as her eyes clench shut. You bite the inside of your cheek, hoping beyond all hope that she isn’t going to do what you’re most terrified of. (With a shock, you suddenly realize that losing Yelena is possibly more painful that losing Natasha.)

“I’ve waited this long,” she murmurs at last, opening her eyes. “I can wait a little longer.”

She just looks defeated.

(You hate that you’re the reason she looks like that.)

- - - - -

You don’t sleep well that night. It has to be the fact that your father is a few houses away, but the nightmares keep waking you up to the point that you just end up staring at the glow in the dark stars again. In the years that have passed, their light is dimmed. Still, you can make them out enough to count them.

After your sixth attempt at sleep, Yelena’s voice cuts through the darkness:

“Come over here.”

You slip under her blanket, enveloping yourself in her smell and clinging to her embrace. She chuckles when you shiver from your brief trip through the cold distance between the beds. You get comfortable in her arms, wrapping your own around her so you can bury your face in her shoulder. You let silence surround you for several long minutes, listening instead to her breathing and her heart.

“Yelena?” Your voice must startle her. Her heart picks up the pace. “You know I’m in love with you, right?”

If she didn’t stiffen so much, you’d assume she hadn’t heard you. She nudges you gently so you prop yourself up on an elbow, looking down at her. You wish you could see her more clearly.

“You love me?” She asks in disbelief.

“Of course I do.” You inhale shakily. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like this didn’t mean anything to me. It does. It means… it means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me.”

Her hold on you tightens, and so does her embrace. “I know you’re scared of losing Natasha.” She pauses considerably. “And maybe she’ll be mad. But- she’ll come around. Friendships like that don’t just end.”

You sigh, press a sleepy kiss to her neck. “I hope you’re right.”

Silence.

You’re just on the edge of sleep when Yelena says, “(Y/N)?” You hum in question. “You know that I’ve been in love with you since forever, right?”

You smile, unable to help yourself. “I know.”

- - - - -

You wake up to soft kisses being pressed all over your cheek, forehead, chin, nose - it takes you several long minutes to give in and open your eyes. Yelena is smiling lovingly at you, her eyes shining in the morning light.

You return the smile, smoothing some of her messy hair away from her face. “Morning.”

“Morning,” she kisses you sweetly.

You spend the next ten minutes or so just laying there, holding each other. Sometimes you kiss lazily, but mostly you just grin at each other like idiots and bask in the delicate world you built for yourselves. You can’t believe how stubborn you’d been about these feelings before. They’re so beautiful, so wonderful and they make you so happy you could cry.

“I love you,” you tell her quietly.

“I love you, too,” Yelena murmurs, kissing you with more purpose.

Your hands find themselves under her shirt, fingers tracing her spine while her own hands pull you on top of her. You straddle her waist, biting back a surprised noise when you feel her squeeze your ass.

“Your family’s probably downstairs,” you whisper.

Yelena rolls her eyes. “You can’t be quiet?”

You blush. “You know you don’t let me stay quiet.”

She chuckles, grinning wickedly. “Fair point.”

“And we should tell Natasha before she overhears us getting it on in here.” You kiss her again slowly. She hums thoughtfully against your lips.

“Fine.”

You slip off of her and you both get dressed with several shared glances and giggles and kisses. It’s hard to separate when you leave the room. From the kitchen, you hear idle chatter. Once ready, you and Yelena head downstairs to join the rest of the family for breakfast.

Over the food, you and Yelena once again share glances and smiles. Natasha is certainly picking up on something. You can sense it, the way her eyes keep moving between you, Yelena, and whatever gears are turning in her mind.

You decide that it’s probably better to do this in front of the family. Why wait to make the announcement of your relationship to them? You wish you could broadcast it to the world. It’s a shame Wanda has to be here for it, though, because you truly have no idea how this is going to end.

It’s when the dishes are starting to be cleared by Melina, Alexei, and Wanda that the subject is brought up, but not by you or Yelena.

“So, how long have you been sneaking around to fuck my sister?” Natasha says it so casually you actually choke on your coffee.

“Natasha!” Melina scolds from the kitchen. The house is suddenly so silent, you swear you hear a few leaves falling outside.

“W-what?” You stammer, going pale. Yelena looks between you and Natasha, her hand automatically finding yours under the table.

It’s the calmness in Natasha’s expression that frightens you most. She looks at you evenly, almost emotionlessly. “How long have you and Yelena been going behind my back?”

“Nat,” Wanda begins, but Natasha shakes her head sharply.

“No. I want to know how long my best friend thought it was appropriate to sleep with my sister without telling me.”

“Natasha,” you begin shakily.

“Girls-” Melina warns, stepping into the doorway.

“How long were you lying to my face?” Natasha continues, standing slowly. You stand, too, and so does Yelena, who never disconnects your hands. Natasha eyes them with little to no change to her expression. “Well?”

“Since… since right before school started.” You admit. “The night I left you guys at that club.”

It happens so fast you don’t even register that Natasha had moved. There’s just a stinging in your nose, your eyes watering as the crack rings in your ears. Several voices shout Natasha’s name, and then Yelena’s as the blonde grabs her sister and pushes her against the doorframe beside Melina.

You reach out to grab Yelena, but to your amazement your face is spewing blood. Your hands fly to your nose again, the liquid flowing freely from it. Well, yeah, this is pretty much how you saw this going.

“Nat, I’m sorry-” You start.

“You’re only sorry because you got caught.” Natasha snaps, shoving her sister off of her. Alexei intervenes, now, murmuring his daughter’s name. She backs away from him, glaring at you. “You lied to me. For weeks. For months.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“Didn’t mean to what? Fuck my sister or lie to me about it?”

“Both? I don’t know!” Tears are freely falling from your eyes, now, but you aren’t sure if it’s from the pain in your nose or the anguish of the situation. “It just- it just happened and then I fell in love with her and-”

Yelena stops the next punch with surprising speed and strength. Alexei cuts in between the two before Natasha can reconsider the next swing’s target. You stay rigid in your spot, unable to move or speak.

“Fuck this.” Natasha backs away from her family and turns on her heels to walk out the front door. “And fuck you.” She throws over her shoulder, slamming the front door so hard it shakes.

Wanda is the first to react to this, though a handful of silent seconds go by. “I’m gonna go talk to her.” She stands, looks at you with sympathy. “She doesn’t mean that. I know she doesn’t.” She pauses, looking towards the door again. “She’s been suspecting it for a while.”

You don’t respond. You just let the awkward silence settle until the Sokovian is out the door and you’re left alone with Yelena, Melina and Alexei.

Seemingly remembering your injury, Yelena rushes to your side again and gently moves your hands away from your nose. You hiss in pain as she examines the damage closely.

“I think it’s broken,” she notes, eyes watery with unshed tears. “(Y/N), I’m so sorry, I didn’t think-”

“It’s okay,” you sound nasally. Ridiculous. “It’s okay, Lena.”

“I’m sorry about Natasha.” Melina snaps into mother mode in an instant. “Let me get you something for that.”

You wish everyone would stop apologizing. They shouldn’t be. This punch is very much well-deserved. If anything, this was an undrreaction by Natasha’s standards.

“It’s fine,” you reply uselessly, because Melina is already off to get medical supplies and Alexei is staring between you and Yelena with wide eyes.

“So… you two…?” He asks.

Shyly, you nod. Yelena seems relieved by this answer, releasing her hold on your cheeks to wrap her arms around you.

“I’m getting blood on you,” you frown.

“I don’t care. I’m so sorry.” She kisses your forehead. “I shouldn’t have forced you to-”

“You didn’t force me to do anything,” you pull back from the embrace to look her in the eyes. “I wanted to do this. Well- not this, specifically.”

“She punched you in the face,” Yelena’s bottom lip trembles. The surefire sign that she’s about to start crying. Now your hands find themselves at her cheeks, thumbs smoothing away the tears just beginning to fall. You lean your forehead against hers. She looks terrified.

“I know,” you sniffle, wincing at the pain the action causes. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s-”

“Put this on your face,” Melina is holding a pack of frozen peas and a rag in her hands. You pull away from Yelena, accepting the objects. Melina grabs your forehead and tilts your head around, looking closely at your nose. “It doesn’t look too bad. Definitely broken, though.”

You let her manhandle your face, cleaning the blood off while Yelena says something about getting you a different shirt. She returns with one of her own, apparently not thinking about it, and she almost freezes when she gives it to you. You accept it gratefully and excuse yourself to the bathroom.

The second - the instant - the door shuts, it’s like everything crashes down around you. Natasha knows. Natasha knew. She had possibly been waiting for you to say something, which any good friend would have done. You’ve been lying to her. You never lied to her before. And the first lie you tell her is this.

You are awful.

You try to keep the stupid sobs quiet when you change out of the bloodied shirt and press the rag to your nose. The blood is already starting to slow down, so that’s something, at least. Still, the pain of it is incomparable to the hollow aching feeling in your chest.

Your stupid phone starts to ring in your pocket. You take it out, answering in a stuffy-sounding tone. “Hello?”

“(Y/N)? Your father called me. He knows you're in Ohio.” Your mother doesn’t often sound worried for you - at least, not in any capacity that doesn’t come off as totally forced an artificial - but she sounds genuinely afraid. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, mom,” you look at yourself in the mirror, looking anything but fine.

“Stay inside.”

“Okay.”

Pause.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Mom, I don’t want to talk about it right now,” your voice wavers. You hate when she gets like this almost as much as you hate when she acts like you’re an ungrateful child. There’s always that stupid part of you that believes she’ll stay like this, stay like she cares, but you always - always - remember those months she left you behind. You’ll never forgive her for that. (Especially not when she won’t even admit that she’d done anything wrong.)

“Okay.” It comes out a little colder, but not quite what you’re used to. “Call me when you get back to college, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” you sigh.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“Love you too, mom.” You hang up and take several slow breaths. You can’t hide forever. Time to find Natasha and face her. She’s already gotten the worst out of her system.

You wait until your cheeks aren’t as red and your eyes not as puffy, splashing some cold water on your face and carefully avoiding the areas that sting at any slight touch.

You turn the knob and almost slam right into Yelena.

“You’re crying,” she says immediately.

You blink up at her. It hits you just how much you love her. It’s so intense, you’re nearly knocked off your feet. No matter what happens with Natasha - this, this, is worth it. She’s worth it. Natasha might never speak to you again, but losing Yelena is, at this point, unfathomable. This is your family. Yelena, Alexei, Melina - yes, Natasha, too. Even if she hates your guts forever.

Instead of explaining yourself, you just lean up to kiss her. It surprises her, you think, because she takes a beat longer to respond than usual. Kissing hurts a little, though, so you pull back and try to mask the pain. Of course, ever vigilant of your wellbeing, Yelena notices and holds the stupid pack of frozen peas to your nose with careful attention.

“I’m gonna talk to her,” you state softly, moving your hand to cover Yelena’s over the pack of peas.

“I’ll come with you.” Yelena offers, but you shake your head.

“No. I have to talk to her alone.”

Yelena looks ready to argue, but thinks better of it and nods hesitantly. “Fine. But… at least keep your phone with you.”

“She’s not gonna beat me to a pulp, Lena,” you laugh. “I think she got enough of her anger out with that one punch.”

“I’ll make her pay for that.” Yelena says darkly and you roll your eyes.

“No, it’s fine. I deserved that.”

“No-”

“We’ve been lying to her, Yelena. You know how she feels about lying.” You sigh.

Yelena frowns, but doesn’t argue.

When Melina deems your nose safe enough to travel with, you take off after Natasha. You know exactly where she’d be, because it’s where she always goes when she’s upset. The park isn’t far from her house, either.

Sure enough, she and Wanda are sitting on the old swing set, feet dragging idly on the mulch. When you approach, they stop talking and Wanda stands up. She makes some kind of excuse, but you don’t hear it as you wither under the glare of Natasha.

Hesitantly, you take the spot Wanda had once occupied and mindlessly move yourself back and forth. Natasha doesn’t speak, so you don’t either. You just sit in silence, your nose throbbing without the pack of peas.

Finally, Natasha breaks the silence: “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

You look at your feet, afraid of what emotions her face might show. “I was… scared. I thought you’d hate me, I guess.”

“I don’t hate you.” Those words are enough to make you weak with relief. You feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you shove them away and keep your gaze steadily downward. “But I’m pissed that you didn’t say anything.”

“She’s your sister, Nat,” you finally look up at her. She looks hurt. “I thought you’d assume the worst.”

“Why would I ever assume the worst with you?” Natasha shakes her head, exasperated. “Honestly, I had a feeling something was up when Carol told me you guys never hooked up. Yelena’s been acting happier than usual. Completely different from how she was when I left for college. Then I thought you were wearing her top, but she’s got so many stupid band shirts it’s hard to keep track…” She scoffs, almost amused. “I should have known, but I thought you’d at least be a decent friend and give me a heads up if you were even interested in Yelena.”

You cringe. “I know. I’m sorry. I really should have told you but it happened so fast-” you stop yourself, blushing furiously. “I thought it was just, y’know, for fun or whatever but-”

“Watch it,” Natasha warns, narrowing her eyes. “That’s my sister.”

“Right,” you croak. “I just- I thought I needed to just, scratch an itch. But it just didn’t go away, and I couldn’t stop thinking about her, and I felt so guilty because I knew hiding it from you was wrong but I didn’t know how to tell you and-”

“(Y/N),” Natasha holds up a hand and you flinch. The guilt on her face is gut-wrenching. She grabs the chain of her swing. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you can’t trust me. You’re my best friend. Of course I want you to be happy. And Yelena is my sister. I want her to be happy, too. I want you both to be with someone you deserve.” At your pained, fearful expression, she quickly adds, “And I do think you deserve each other. In the best way.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, and Natasha snorts.

“Seriously,” she says, “Lena has had a crush on you since we were kids. I’m surprised it took this long to happen. I can see how much happier you make her, even if I didn’t know what the source of that happiness was ‘til now.”

“Nat-”

“Even you seem different.” She observes you with a new sort of expression, almost admiringly. “You seem lighter. When we reconnected, you were still the same lost kid who didn’t know what to do besides what her mom told her. I can see how much easier it is on you, now.”

You actually feel yourself crying. It’s so dumb, you hate crying in front of others. Natasha slides off of her swing to pull you into a hug. You return it happily, heart swelling.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter guiltily. “I should have told you. I knew the whole time that I should have told you. But I was a coward.”

“You were,” Natasha agrees. When she pulls back from the hug, she looks at your nose. “How’s your face?”

“Broken.”

“I’m not sorry.”

“That’s fair.”

Pause.

“But we’re okay?” You ask, just because you can’t ever get over the fear of losing someone you care about.

“We’re okay,” Natasha confirms.

She returns to her swing.

It’s almost like when you were kids again.

- - - - -

The walk back to Natasha’s house was spent in companionable conversation. She asks you a little bit about your relationship and intentions with Yelena - she does, in fact, threaten your life if you dare break Yelena’s heart but you assure her that’s nowhere in the cards. You’re in it to win it, as far as you’re concerned, and Natasha agrees that you’ve already won it.

The entire family is waiting in the living room. They must have been talking before you returned, because the silence is unbearable. Finally, you tell them everything is fine, and they all seem to breathe a bit easier. Melina mentions always seeing you as a daughter, Alexei tells you he couldn’t approve more.

At the end of the night, you find yourself back in Yelena’s arms in her childhood bed.

In the darkness, your only focus is the steadying beat of her heart that always picks up when you lean your head against her chest. You can’t ever be certain what awaits you in the future - you don’t even care anymore. As long as you have her by your side, that’s all that matters.

“Yelena?” You ask. She hums. “I love you.”

The blonde wakes up enough to press a loving kiss to your forehead. “I love you, too.”

Maybe - just maybe - everything is going to turn out okay.

~part 3~

~~ Gen Tag List ~~

/To be added, let me know if you want to be tagged for all my works, a specific series, or a specific character <3

@nobody13 @fireflyglass @swords-are-cool @artapdarkstr @pasta-bandit @multi-images @women-am-i-right @fanboy7794

#MIGHT make an epilogue for this in december #just bc i have some domestic cute fluff w yelena that could fit here if i tweak it a lil bit #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova imagine #yelena x reader #yelena imagine #gxg imagine #nobody13 #fireflyglass #swords-are-cool #artapdarkstr #pasta-bandit #multi-images #women-am-i-right #fanboy7794

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karasuno-volley · 3 years

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HAIKYUU THIRD YEARS + SAYING I LOVE YOU FOR THE FIRST TIME (PT. 2) ( ft. nekoma + shiratorizawa )

plot: how the third years say i love you for the first time.

pairing: nekoma / shiratorizawa third years + gn!reader (some are more fem!reader)

warning: some foul language in yaku’s part. otherwise it’s pure fluff.

a/n: part two! i also added kiyoko in at the end because i forgot when i did karasuno last time. likes / reblogs welcome, no reposting. taglists and requests are open !! love, volley.

PART ONE | PART TWO | (like for) PART THREE?

He’s said I love you from day one, but you’ve never returned the sentiment in its entirety, only smiling and squeezing his hand. How could he love you, you’d only been dating for two weeks! But Kuroo was consistent, almost to the point of annoyance. Each hello and goodbye consisted of him confessing his love. It’s one night, only two months after the first date, when Kuroo drops you off at your apartment. He says it again, making a point to kiss your cheek. He doesn’t expect a reply at this point, and turns to head back to his car, surprised when he hears you call out for him. “No, you don’t. It’s only been eight weeks.” It isn’t meant to be a mean statement-- you were only telling the truth, but the look you see on Kuroo’s face when he turns to face you nearly causes your heart to shatter.

“How could you say that?” He huffs, hands stuffed into his jacket before approaching you slowly. “All those other times I’ve said it? Everytime I see you or leave you someplace?” He gets dangerously close now, head dipped and lips so close all you had to do was lean forward a few inches to kiss. You’ve never kissed him, not yet. Each time he tried to, you moved so it was your cheek instead. He’s accepted that, never pushed you to do anything you didn’t want to, but now… Now, Kuroo seemed to want something more. When his eyes find your own, you feel like you’re melting under the heat of his gaze. He’s so serious as a hand brushes against your cheek, followed by his lips. He doesn’t kiss you, not without you taking the initiative. Kuroo’s lips land so close to your ear, you feel his hot breath as he says: “You’re wrong, kitten. I love you more than you could ever know.” When he turns away, you’re left in a state of shock for a moment, dumbfounded as he makes more tracks in the light dusting of snow on his way out. Before you can think better of it, you’re chasing him down the sidewalk, yelling his name. As Kuroo turns, his expression goes from amusement to shock as you go careening into his arms. He tumbles backwards with you in his arms, but he could care less as your lips collide. Even though he’s steady on the ground, Kuroo gets the distinct feeling of falling.

You knew Kai wasn’t much of a talker even before you started dating. He was always silent, laughing occasionally, keeping the first years in line. He escapes your eye as the manager for the longest time, simply on the sidelines. So when he asked you out on a date (mostly because of the pushing by Yaku and Kuroo to do so), you had even surprised yourself when saying yes. Now, a few months later, you can’t imagine your life without him. You lounge next to him on the bed, lazily flipping through TV channels. You notice Kai continually looking out the window, as if searching for something. “Something wrong?” You ask, and the Nekoma’s vice captain only shakes his head, a bit of an embarrassed smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Uh, no. Sorry.” You sit up a bit straighter, look at him better. “Kai, what is it? You’ve been acting strange all week. If you want to talk, we can talk.”

You watch your boyfriend as he seems to debate something, before he stands and a mischievous look takes over his features. Your eyebrows raise curiously, and before you can protest, Kai tugs you up and towards the balcony. “Kai, what--?” “Just come!” He insists, and when you’re finally outside in the night air, you can see it. You knew Kai was out in the countryside a bit, but far enough to see the stars in detail? You pause, looking upwards at the different constellations and wishing you could remember at least one to search for. “Do you like it?” He asks, quieter now that he’s brought you outside. He wraps his arms around your middle, head resting on your shoulder. “Yes, it’s great, but… Why’d you do this?” He pauses, breathes out. You see his breath dissipate into fog. “I want to share the place I love with who I love.” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. You laugh, before recognition sets in. “... Love?” “Is that alright?” Kai pulls away a bit, looks at your face for any sign of discomfort. Instead, your cheeks are flushed. Maybe it’s from the winter air, maybe it’s from a growing feeling in your chest. “I love you, too.”

Yaku is so good to you that it almost physically hurt. He had always been a bit of a wildcard-- sweet one moment, yelling the next (never to you, but still). As you step out of the shower, hair dripping and skin damp, you wrap yourself in a towel before heading out to grab your extra clothes. You hadn’t meant to spend the night, but Yaku never seems to mind either way. When you finally make your grand appearance into the kitchen, you spy Yaku there, humming mindlessly as he pours some more pancake batter into the pan. You pause there for a moment, watching as he adjusts and flips it over once it’s brown on one side. The last thing you want to do is scare him, or worse, stop him from humming. You see a cup of hot tea just waiting for you on the kitchen table, so in bare feet, you sneak over. He still doesn’t seem to notice you, and when you look closer, you realize he has earbuds in. Slipping into the chair, you watch him for a few more moments, more curious of his fluid movements than anything. He’s never told his team that he’s a good cook-- in fact, he’s begged you on more than one occasion not to say anything to them. It’s not like they’d make fun of him-- well, maybe they would. Either way, you snap a quick picture. Unfortunately, the flash was on.

Sensing movement behind him, Yaku turns, mouth half open in the middle of his tune. He nearly drops the pan and burns his hand, yelping. “Ow! God… Y/N, warn me next time!” You laugh, much to Yaku’s displeasure. He sighs, but you know he’s not frustrated with you. As you go back to adding honey into your tea, you feel his eyes on you. You wait for the feeling to go away, but it doesn’t. When you finally look up again, Yaku seems to snap out of it and turn back to the pancake, which was clearly burning. “Oh, fuck…” He whines. “I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed!” “Were you?” You ask, sliding out of your chair to join him at the stove. “Here, let me help.” As you take over for your boyfriend, you feel it again. The constant staring. “Can I help you?” There’s a small smirk on your face, but instead of attacking your neck and collarbone with kisses like he normally would, Yaku only whispers. It’s soft, maybe in the end you aren’t supposed to hear it, but of course you do. “... You love me?” Queue Yaku’s face turning bright red. “I never--!... Yes.” You laugh, turning to kiss him gently. He returns it in earnest, if a bit confused. “Good.” you state, flipping the pancake out with the rest of them. “I love you, too.”

“Tendou keeps telling me that I should be more romantic.” That’s how he greets you as Ushijima walks through the door, carrying a few bags from the convenience store. “What?” You ask, sitting up slightly as your boyfriend drops all the snacks by you. He looks at you blankly for a few moments, as if concerned you hadn’t heard him. “I said that Tendou--,” “Yes, Toshi, I heard you. Why, though? You’re plenty romantic.” You smile, holding up a few of the snacks he’d gotten you. “See? You even got me my favorites.” He shrugs, and you watch as he sits next to you. “Do you want me to be more romantic?” Ushijima looks at you closely then, as if trying to discern something. “I…” You say, cut off by his eyes searching your own. “What’s gotten into you?” You ask, but it’s quiet, unsure. “I want to tell you that I love you.”

You sit up then, clearly shocked. He does as well, nervous he might have insulted you. “Is there something wrong?” You pause, glancing back at him and away. “You love me?” “Yes.” He nods, reaching out to envelope your hand in his own. “Is that bad? Tendou says I should--,” Before he can finish, you’re already kissing him. He kisses you back greedily; he would never admit it to himself, but he loves the taste of your lips. It’s his favorite thing in the world. When you separate, you’re smiling, laughing. “Remind me to pick up some chocolate later.” you say, leaning back against his chest. “What? Why?” He hums. His low tone causes shivers to travel up your spine. “I have to thank Tendou tomorrow.”

You watch over and over again as the other team’s opposite hitter gets shut down. Once, twice, three times, and the game ends, just as fast as it had begun. As Tendou walks off the court, in high spirits as always, he finds you in the stands, surrounded by fans screaming and the drumline. He waves up to you, a smile brighter than anything you’ve ever seen coming across his features. He loves it when he can see you in the crowd, even more so when his jacket can be seen around your shoulders. When you meet him at the gym exit, he’s all smiles for you, picking you up and spinning you around. “Tendou!” You laugh, hands gripping to his shoulders for balance. “Just because you’re taller than me doesn’t mean you have to do that every time.”

“Doesn’t it?” He kisses your lips, hums in approval. “But you always look so good like this.” He sets you down gently, but doesn’t quite let go of you yet, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, holding your lower back. “Like this?” You ask, glancing down at what you’re wearing. It’s not anything special, but whatever it is about your outfit, it’s making Tendou a bit more affectionate than usual. He kisses your jaw, leading up to your lips before you pull away, a blush covering your features. “Tendou, not here. Later.” You mumble, feeling, for the first time, his teammates’ eyes on you. He searches your eyes, wondering if he’s made a wrong move, but when he sees that you’re simply embarrassed, he laughs, turning to the others before loudly proclaiming: “Hey, guys! This is my girlfriend and I love her!” You pull away by the end, half in shock, half happier than you could ever be. “You love me?” “Of course! Wasn’t that obvious?” He pulls you in for another kiss, and you let him, before being interrupted by a deep voice. “Tendou. Coach has said that we have to leave.” Ushijima nods to you before turning to leave with the rest of the team. You watch your boyfriend’s eyebrows raise in slight annoyance, before turning back to you, all smiles. “Shall we?” and then, quietly under his breath, “That man cannot take a hint.”

When the idea of home comes to mind, Kiyoko’s the first person you think of. She places your bento on the counter, and you grab it without looking. You don’t leave without giving her a quick kiss, but she’s already kicking you out the door, insisting that both of you will be late at this point. As she walks beside you, you two don’t talk about anything in particular, but she does tuck herself underneath your arm, humming a tiny song to herself as she goes through a few new papers for the volleyball team. You drop her off at the gym like always, but before you could leave, she calls you back. “Y/N, don’t worry about waiting for me at lunch. I have to do some things for the spring pamphlet, okay? I’ll see you at my house after class.” You nod, not thinking anything of it.

Lunch finally comes around, and while Kiyoko was busy as she promised she would be, you find some old friends to sit with. You carefully unwrap the bento, eyeing the homemade meal inside, but before you could actually eat, a small paper slips onto the floor. You grab it before anyone else could, but what you see makes your face run hot. The girls laugh at you playfully, attempting to grab the paper out of your hand. “Kiyoko leave you something special?” “Can I see?” “Come on, just one look!” They all shout in unison. You know they mean well, and you wave them off easily enough, but you can’t get the dumb grin off your face if you tried. When you meet Kiyoko outside the gym later on, you immediately pull her to you. She’s not as shocked as she should be, but smiles nonetheless. “What?” she asks innocently, but you’re not having any of that. You hold up the sticky note, and Kiyoko’s handwriting, neat and orderly, easily spells out “I love you” with a heart. “This?” You hum, and she laughs, looking up at you before quickly kissing your lips. Public affection is never on Kiyoko’s to-do list. Moments like this are rare, and you savor it for all its worth, kissing her back eagerly. She pulls away, a small smile on her face, pink on her cheeks. “I do love you, you know.” Before you could respond, she’s already taking your hand and leading you away.

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renaerys · 3 years

Note

I think I like the idea of 31 for the greens 💚

31. “You can bite me. I like it.”

Okay I admit this one toes the line with the innuendos, but I'm completely fine with that.

Send me a prompt and some characters! Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we're getting creative here.

List of prompts

xxx

Buttercup had always known she had merch. As one-third of a former Superhero team, she was bound to accumulate fans over the years. Even now, with her crime-fighting days long behind her and her focus on making a living like any other normal adult, she occasionally encountered echoes of the past: a Girl Power! T-shirt tie-dyed in pink, blue, and green; a set of refrigerator magnets that spelled out her and her sisters’ names; even an old coloring book series full of cartoonish monsters and Superpowered little girls. It was all a little weird, a little cringe, but totally harmless.

Until Butch found out.

“Oh my god, I found your horcrux.”

The popsicle had melted and warped in freezer storage. The face belonged in an acid trip or a Silent Hill movie. Buttercup was sure some demon must have siphoned the ass-end of her soul to make this abomination. “That is the scariest thing I have ever seen.”

“Dude, this thing is amazing.” He licked Buttercup’s frozen popsicle likeness. “Oh my god, it’s cherry flavored.”

“Wow, what are you, fourteen?” Buttercup tried to leave, but Butch chased after her.

“Hey, hey Buttercup.”

“What?”

“Can you feel this?” He gave the popsicle a long lick up the length of its face.

“You are a crime against humanity, you know that?”

“C’mon, just try her!”

“Her? We’re not gendering the ice cream, Butch.”

“She didn’t mean that,” Butch soothed the melting treat.

Buttercup cut through the park on the way back to her office. Butch followed her.

“Okay, okay, but seriously, just try it. It’s kinda sweet, but it’s pretty decent.”

Buttercup eyed the popsicle. Perhaps it had once resembled her, if she were a cartoon, but now it was a mess of green and black and lumpy, bubble gum eyes. A bit of the face dribbled onto the grass.

This was a decision. Someone of sound mind woke up one day and the best idea they had was to make a popsicle inspired by her face. Someone said to themselves hey, I could sell this to some dumb kids or horny dudes and make a killing.

“You know, I should be getting royalties for that.”

Butch chewed on the chunk of hair-shaped popsicle he’d bitten off and his eyes went wide. “Oh shit, you’re totally right! We should sue the manufacturer!”

Or at least get them to discontinue the line so I never have to see this again.

Her phone buzzed. “It’s Ty. I have to get back to work.”

“I’m texting Blossom. I bet there’s someone we can sue.” The remainder of Butch’s popsicle melted into the grass as he typed out a message on his phone.

“Okay, whatever. See you later.”

Buttercup forgot all about her bizarre popsicle likeness as she buried herself in a case for work. Later that evening at the apartment she shared with Butch, she sank into the living room sofa ready to kick back. Butch came at her from behind and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Hey, you wanna Netflix and chill?”

Buttercup grinned. “Yeah. Grab me a beer?” She scrolled through her Netflix queue until Butch returned.

“Got you something special,” he said.

“What?”

It was another demented popsicle. This one’s eyes were completely uneven, and the mouth was too wide, and the hair line had run down into the face due to melting or demonic infestation. Buttercup stared at the face of her frosty doppelgänger and wondered what Dorian Gray had thought when he saw his painting, grotesque from years of absorbing his hedonism: bitch, I lived.

“Wanna try it? Blossom said she can file for an injunction against the manufacturer, so this might be your only chance before they discontinue the line.” Butch wagged the popsicle like a cat’s toy.

“You’re so weird, you know that?”

“Dude, you’re the one not freaking out about how you’re so famous and beloved that they made your face into candy! How cool is that? You’re like the Mona Lisa.”

“If a five-year-old drew her.”

“Hey, don’t go shitting on five-year-olds. I knew a few who punched major dick back in the day.”

Buttercup laughed. “This has to be in the top ten dumbest conversations we’ve ever had.”

“So you want some of this? What’s it gonna be? Please eat me, Buttercup!”

“Oh, come on. Don’t make that voice.”

“I’m so creamy going down.”

She wheezed. “Butch, Jesus Christ.”

“You can bite me. I like it.”

“I’m going to bite you if you don’t knock it off.”

“Bite down on my juicy, cherry center—”

Buttercup shoved a cushion at his face, and he fell onto the floor laughing.

“Noooo, Popsicle-Buttercup! She could’ve been worth millions one day!” he lamented the popsicle now on the floor and collecting rug fibers.

“Popsicle-Buttercup isn’t going to Netflix and chill with you, moron. Clean that up and I’ll get the beers.”

She went to the kitchen to get their drinks while Butch saw to the rug. When she tossed the bottle caps in the trash, however, she saw a bright, blue box crumpled at the top and grew suspicious. Setting the beers aside, she opened the freezer and found eleven more Powerpuff Pops chilling with the frozen french fries and ice cube trays. Misshapen versions of her sisters and herself stared back at her, their runny mouths smiling wide and black.

Buttercup closed the freezer door. “Goddamnit, Butch!”

He cackled like a lunatic when she tackled him on the sofa.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

#powerpuff girls #powerpuff girls fanfic #butchercup #ppg greens #ppg buttercup #ppg butch #september fic prompts

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lucyjay · 3 years

Text

Silver (b.bh)

||You and Baekhyun have been friends for the past couple years. What happens when you both develop feelings for each other but no one has the courage to admit it?

Genre: smut (a bit of fluff)

Warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, teasing, unprotected sex ( balloon your baboons fellahs), dirty talk, oral sex, fingering, cum play, throat fucking, hair pulling, multiple orgasms

Words: 6.5k

You throw a final look at your reflection in the mirror and sigh. I look like shit, you think to yourself and make your way to the bathroom to finish straightening your hair. The last thing you are in the mood for is clubbing but guess who won’t take no for an answer?your friend Nat who borderline blackmailed you into either joining her and your friends tonight or finding all your embarrassing high school photos displayed on your insta tomorrow morning.

After managing to make your hair not look like you got out of a cat fight, you put on some make up which for you consists of 3 simple steps. Step 1, hiding the black shopping bags that jewel your under eyes, Step 2, some blush so that you don’t resemble a ghost and Step 3, mascara. The final result looks better than you anticipated when you started getting ready over an hour ago.

A simple black baggie-t’shirt style dress, a pair of black boots, your straight hair naturally hugging your shoulders, falling all the way down to your waist and last your make up which thank god hides the fact that you’ve worked a total of 60 hours this week. It’s a nice, fresh spring night and you reckon you’d be okay without a jacket on. You throw your keys, phone and credit card in a small bag and make your way out of your apartment. Your find your uber already waiting for you outside the main entrance of the building, you jump in and decide to give your friend a call to check if they are already at the club.

“Hola”, her high pitched voice makes you chuckle, she still sounds like a 5 year old girl just like when you first met her.

“Hola. Sooo, I’m on my way, I should be there in like 20′ max. Who else is coming? Please tell me Sehun and Taeyong will be there? Taeyong promised he would make time if i joined you”, you protest already used to one of your best friends, Taeyong canceling on you lastminute.com because of work.

“They are already with me babe and we should reach the club in 10′ or so. Sara and Jaebum are coming as well, Bam is DJ’ing, oh and ahm”, she pauses and your heart starts racing subconsciously knowing what she is about to say. “..Baekhyun is coming”. You swear at her for not letting you know earlier and she mumbles apologies which leave you completely untouched.

“Nat, you did it on purpose”, you try to keep your tone calm only because your uber driver is already giving you some “lady keep your voice down” looks through the rear mirror.

“I didn’t but even if I did so what? We are all friends and it’s completely childish of both of you to put us in a position where we have to go out with each of you separately. Bam is worried and Sehun is having abandonment issues”, she whines dramatically and you hear Sehun in the background screaming, “I just want my friends back, oh god, please”, a fake cry following his oscar-worthy performance as you hear Taeyong burst into laughter a bit further in the background.

“Ok ok! I don’t care. I’m done playing his little games anyway. I wanna drink and have fun. See you in a bit”, you reply and hang up. The uber has reached the city centre and your gaze in boring outside the window looking at the people and the buildings but not really paying attention to anything. All you can think about is him. How things have completely gone to shit when they were so promising. You and Baekhyun met a a couple years ago when he started hanging out with Sehun who he met at work. The latest then brought him into your group and he clicked with all of you straight away.

Fast forward to a a few months ago, you were at one of BamBam’s house parties chilling and chatting away when he confessed that he likes you and he has been into you since the day he met you catching you completely off guard. You, having been crushing on the boy since the moment you laid your eyes on him, did what no 26 year old, sane woman would do and just bailed. Literally left him there, drink in hand, mouth hanging open in shock and you just left the house, got inside a taxi and went home. You were so embarrassed over your reaction and disappointed in yourself for ruining the perfect chance to be with the biggest crush you’ve had since middle school, that you couldn’t even bring yourself to message an apology to him. A few days later you all met at a cafe and that’s when it started. He was so cold and sulky towards you and who could blame him? But he was overdoing it to the point that it started pissing you off. You couldn’t get him to talk to you alone and eventually managed to get you to not stand being with him in the same room. Every time you met since then, it was just a verbal war between the two of you, full of sneaky insults and hurtful jokes with a drizzle of swear words and some whipped sarcasm on top.

“It’s just one night out. How bad can it get?”, you whisper only for your own ears to hear you. The uber slows down outside the club, you thank your driver and step out of the vehicle, gently closing the door behind you. The queue for the club isn’t too long and you can spot Nat,Tae and Sehun waiting on the left side where the VIP queue is forming. Sehun waves at you eagerly and you make your way to their direction.

“At least she is wearing a dress and not pyjamas”, Sehun teases and lifts you up in a hug that made you almost gasp for air.

“I am overworked, not lame. I now how to dress for a night out”, you spit back faking annoyance and the younger boy raises his hands in defence.

“Tough week at work?”, Taeyong asks as all four of you walk towards the entrance of the club.

“Everybody decided to get married at the end of summer apparently, so considering that I have to organise 9 weddings within the next 4 months, I would say tough year.”, you pause and your eyes follow the direction Taeyong is looking at and...there he is. Locking his car dressed like a bloody model straight out of a Vogue photoshoot. Black jeans, loose blue shirt, a silk navy blue scarf around his neck and a pair of black boots. “...and it’s not about to get better”, you finish your sentence.

Him being ridiculously attractive should have been something you were used to by now, but you haven’t seen him in almost a month and in all honesty you almost forgot how easily he makes your entire body go numb just by standing there not even looking at you. Too lost in your own thoughts you haven’t noticed him standing next to you greeting the others, ‘till he turns his attention to you. His hair is silver. Fuck him and his ability to look good in everything. Fuck him and his gorgeous face, you think to yourself.

“Your hair is longer”, he says in the most indifferent tone. Is this his idea of a greeting? Asshole, you think.

“Your hair is bloody silver”, you reply, your eyes not leaving his. He serves you a slight side smile and you can feel the insides of your palms getting sweaty.

“Looks good doesn’t it?”, he throws a rhetorical question not really waiting for an answer. You tsk and roll your eyes at him while quickly turning to get inside the club. BamBam was near the entrance to greet you and show you which table he reserved for you and your friends. You follow him and he leaves you shortly after to go and prepare his station for his set next to the man currently DJ’ing.

“I’m gonna go get drinks, what do you want?”, Baekhyun asks the rest of you.

“Let’s just get a bottle”, Nat proposes and you nod. “tequila or Vodka?”, she asks.

“Tequila”, you and Baekhyun shout in unison and you turn to look at each other. Are the lights in here making him look even more attractive or is it just you being horny for him? You give yourself a mental slap.

“Tequila is good”, Sehun adds. Baekhyun makes his way to the bar and Nat moves to your side, leaning next to your ear so that she doesn’t need to scream on top of the music.

“Make a move”, she says and you almost choke on your own spit.

“Are you insane? Haven’t you been around lately? I guess not. Let me fill you in. In the last episode of Season 2, he hates me. End of story”, you reply and she chuckles.

“He doesn’t hate you. He is just still hurt by your reaction back then. And you are clearly into him. Like, it’s clear like the sun. Like, I can see you undressing him with your eyes. I could legit-...”

“That’s enough! I got your point”, you cut her off and really wish Baek could get his ass there already cause you swear you would love to down that entire bottle of tequila right now.

“Babe, talk to him. It’s a shame. You have had feelings for each other for so long. You can’t just..leave it.”, she says and her tone is soothing and understanding. You turn to look at her and nod causing her to smile widely and clap her hands like a little kid who just got her birthday gift. A minute later Baek shows up with two bottles of tequila inside a bucket and a waitress follows right behind him with a tray full of glasses and ice which she lays on your table.

A few drinks down and you find yourself relaxed enough to be dancing with Taeyong like there’s no tomorrow, rocking some crazy moves perfectly nsync with BamBam’s wild beats. Taeyong’s hands are on your waist and you rest your head on his shoulder, your back against his chest as you sing every single lyric of the song currently blasting.

“I need another drink”, he screams over the music. You nod and make your way to the table where you find Nat and Sehun talking to Jaebum and Sara, a couple Nat met whilst on holidays in Japan, who happened to be from the same city as the rest of you. You chat with them for a few minutes, sipping on your drink when you realise you haven’t seen Baekhyun since returning to the table. After scanning the area around you, your gaze falls on Nat’s who mouths a silent “outside” to you, as if she has read your thoughts. You excuse yourself and make your way through the intoxicated crowd, eventually reaching the exit of the club. You step on the pavement and look up and down both directions to see if you can spot Baek. On the left side of the doors, a few meters away you can distinguish a frame that looks like him. You slowly make your way towards the man and after a few steps you can see his face clearer under the dull lighting the lamppost covers the corner of the street with. He was staring at the ground, cigarette in between his index and middle finger. You clear your throat and he turns to look at you.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t see you”, he says calmly, taking a puff of his cigarette, quickly letting a line of smoke out of his nostrils.

“You smoke”, you say and it’s more like a realisation and less like a question. Your stare drifts off of his face and down to his feet as if his shoes are the most interesting thing to you.

“Yes, got a problem with that?’, he turns to look at you and you raise your head to meet his eyes. You can’t read him. You never could. He looks unbothered yet sounds annoyed. It’s so frustrating and you swear at yourself for even thinking of approaching him. You scoff and turn to leave, sure that you’re clearly not wanted there.

“That’s the second time”, he says and his voice is low but you can sense a weak scent of irony lingering at the end of his word. You stop in your trucks and turn to face him.

“What was that?”, you ask.

“It’s the second time you walk away from me. There won’t be a third”, his statement catches you off guard but you’re not planning on letting him see the affect his words have on you.

“I suppose you came out here to get some air, I wanted to check if you’re alright but you’re clearly not up for a chat. Am I wrong for thinking that the best thing to do was to excuse myself?”, you regret the slight sarcasm in your words which was completely unintended. His attention lands on your face. There’s at least 2 meters distance between yourself and him but for some reason you feel like you’re suffocating. His presence is so strong that you can’t even think straight. Without taking his eyes off of yours, he throws his cigarette somewhere to the side and with two steps he is standing right in front of you. You can smell the smoke on him but it doesn’t bother you; his cologne in combination with his addictive natural scent are enough to make your head hazy. He shouldn’t be able to affect you like this.

“Excuses”, his voice comes out like a loud whisper and you feel embarrassed at how it makes your entire lower body go numb and the sensitive area between your legs pulsate. His stare is so heavy that it almost makes you feel small. He moves a bit closer to you and you can almost feel his body touching yours.

“Baekhyun, I’m...”, your voice fades out unable to complete the sentence. Your eyes still on his like magnets. You can’t see anything around you but him.

“Finish your sentence Y/N”, he says calmly. You gather all the courage you could before you allow the confessions that you have been battling all these months, come out. It’s so hard but you know you have to. You have to give it a shot.

“I’m sorry. For that day.”, you say and his features rest in a slight shock which only encourages you to continue.

“I’m sorry i left you like that and that I didn’t explain myself. I’m sorry that I never called you after what happened. But what I’m not sorry about is what happened afterwards. You were so mean to me and you refused to talk to me. Your behaviour was horrible and I don’t take back anything I’ve said to you every time we fought”. You swear your knees are about to give out and your breathing is so heavy that you can feel your chest rising and falling as if you were running. You heart beating in your head is making you dizzy and you pray that you won’t just faint right there and then.

“You don’t regret anything you’ve said to me all the times we fought?”, he asks and you feel a pinch of annoyance that this was the only part of your paragraph long monologue he chose to focus on.

“Nothing. You started every single fight”, your statement came out strong and your voice way too stable given your current state. You congratulate yourself in your head. As if that was even possible, Baekhyun steps even closer to you, now trapping you between his body and the wall. You can feel his torso pushing yours backwards only for the back of your waist to land on his right hand, his left one resting on the wall slightly brushing your cheek.

“I swear I would take you against this fucking wall just to shut this annoying mouth of yours”, his lips almost touching yours. You can feel his breath on your face and his words wake the butterflies in your stomach. You’re mad at yourself for feeling so weak under his stare. It takes you a few seconds to realise that you have been holding in a breath. You just stand there, frozen, eyes glued on his honey brown ones when the words roll out of your tongue without second thought.

“Why don’t you then?”, you speak in a low voice that even gives you goosebumps. Your boldness surprises him and he shakes his head.

“I shouldn’t. I-..”

“Excuses”, you cut him off and you catch him so off guard that if it wasn’t for you being an absolute mess right now, his shocked stare would have had you chuckling. He raises his hand to caress your cheek and the way his knuckles softly touch your skin makes your entire body shiver. He doesn’t allow you to let the sudden skinship action sink in when he tilts his head only to rest his forehead against yours.

“I don’t know what to do with you anymore. Please tell me Y/N. Just tell me what you want”, he pleads and the entirety of your body heat is now resting on your face. You have never seen Baekhyun like this, basically asking you to take the upper hand. You rest your arms on his and connect your hands behind his neck.

“I want you Baekhyun. I don’t even remember how it was not to want you.”, you inhale and the air entering your nostrils feels too hot “...let’s go back to yours.Or mine, I don’t care”. The moment you finished your sentence Baekhyun’s hand was on yours, already guiding you towards the direction of his car. He open the door for you to get in and a second later he jumps in the driver’s seat.

Baekhyun’s eyes are glued on the road and his grip on the wheal is strong. You take a minute to examine his side profile and your eyes linger on each of his beautiful features. His beautiful honey-brown eyes, his straight nose and his soft, pink lips that are currently pressed into a thin line as if he is trying hold back a river of words threatening to fall out. Your hands are resting on your thighs which you’re pressing together in a desperate attempt to ease the buzzing in your lower area. You are already so embarrassingly wet, even though Baek hasn’t even touched you, which makes you realise how wrong all your past partners must have been treating you. Not able to stand the distance between the two of you, you place your hand on top of his right thigh, slowly dancing your fingers up and down the area. He shakes his head, momentarily closing his eyes only to open them a second later. His stare is intense but you can’t read it properly.

“Babe...”, he says and your hand movement stops at the sound of the nickname. Feeling more aroused by the second, you bend slightly over so that your lips are brushing against his ear.

“What...babe?”, you tease and he grips the wheel with such strength that it looks like he is trying to break it in half.

“Finish your sentence Baek”, you continue and at this point you know you’re playing with fire. He turns to give you a look for a split second, his eyes filled with something unknown to you and a slight smirk is gracing his beautiful lips.

“Sit back properly, take off your underwear and open your legs.”, you’re looking at him, eyes wide open in shock. His habit of bossing you around would normally have you ignoring his ass, maximum serving him an eyeroll as a response, but now it’s different. Your brain hasn’t even had the time to comprehend the possible consequences of his request, when you find your hands slowly sliding the sides of your underwear down your legs. Before you manage to even speak a word, his slender fingers are caressing the inside of your thighs and you throw your head back, eyes shut in an attempt to keep yourself under control. His middle finger and index travel all the way to your sensitive area and you let out a low gasp when you feel them on your heat.

“Holy fuck...”, he says and inserts one finger inside your throbbing pussy. You moan out his name as his digit is hitting you exactly on the right spot and you can’t see it but there’s a victory smile resting on his lips.

“Baek wait...”, you try to complain but it’s in vain. He adds a second finger and while keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel, driving almost at 150 km/h, he is steadily bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. You turn your head to the side, your eyes linger on his frame when you start feeling a knot forming on the lower part of your abdomen. You gather all the strength left in your body to lift your arm and tangle your fingers with his silver locks, slightly pulling his head backwards. He hisses and fastens the tempo of his fingers, his palm now coming in contact with your clit. You know you aren’t going to last long. Your walls start pulsating around his skilful digits and the car stops at a red light which finally allows him to focus his attention on you for at least a few seconds.

“I can’t wait to feel you clenching around my dick baby”, he says and you can feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm.

“Does my baby like dirty talk?”, he teases you and you pull his hair a tad stronger than before.

“I want you to come before the light turns green, you have approximately..”, he pauses to calculate the other traffic lights at the crossing, “...10-15 seconds?”, he adds driving his fingers in and out your pussy at a frenzy rhythm. You can’t handle the tension anymore.

“Baek, I can’t-...”, you swear you could cry with all this tension gathered on your lower body. You’re so close you can sense your orgasm.

“9..”, he says, his eyes piercing yours.

“Fuck, no I can’t”, you close your eyes, trying to control your body. It’ll be too much, you don’t want to come here in his car.

“Open your eyes and look at me. 6″, he counts and you do as you’re told. His palm hitting your sensitive clit is sending vibrations all the way to your head and you swear you wouldn’t be able to spell out your own name at this moment if you had to.

“I’m so close, I’m- Baek please...’, you whine and you can feel your walls clenching like crazy, swallowing his fingers. He places his other hand around your neck, squeezing gently and you’re a goner. Your orgasm crushes through you like fireworks and you can’t stop yourself from grinding down against his fingers, greedily trying to ride the explosive feeling out.

“That’s my girl”, he flashes you a satisfied smile and removes his fingers from your pussy at once. You grimace at the loss of contact but you’re too occupied trying to gather your thoughts and get yourself together, to pay further attention. The car is already on the move and before you can fathom what’s happening, he is parking in front of a building. Your eyes feel heavy but only at the thought of what’s coming, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten again. Baek steps out of the car and opens the door for you. You take a second to put your underwear back on, and you step outside the vehicle likewise. He locks it and starts walking towards the entrance of the block of flats before you, his hand in yours as your steps shadow his. You walk up the stairs and stop at the first floor. He stands outside a door and takes out his keys to unlock it when he turns to face you for the first time since he had you coming all over his fingers in his car.

“Before we get in I need to tell you something”, he warns and his eyes are examining your face. You step closer to him, your arm brushing against his.

“What is it Baek?”, your voice sounds so sweet and the way you say his name has him melting.

“If we do this, there’s no disappearing in the morning. There’s no going back to how things were. If you don’t want to stay and if you don’t want to be with me, leave now. This can’t be a one-time thing for me. That’s not what I want.”, he takes a deep breath as if he just gave the most important speech of his life. Your mouth hangs open at his sudden confession and you feel a stink of guilt that you’ve made him so uneasy; scared that you would run away from him and disappear. You grab his keys and unlock the door which opens wide in front of you. You step inside his flat and turn your head to face him.

“Do you prefer eggs or pancakes for breakfast?”, you ask him while taking off your shoes. He steps in and shuts the door behind him. Walking backwards you start unbuttoning your dress, “...I prefer something sweet in the morning to be honest”, you’re teasing and you reach the last button. You take another step backwards and you can feel his eyes burning on you. He is following each step you take, mirroring your movements now taking off his shirt. You let the dark fabric of your dress fall down your body and pool around your ankles. Baekhyun stops in his tracks, half naked and the lust in his eyes could make you come right there and then. You are about to take another step backwards when he nods you negatively.

“Don’t move”, the words come out as a soft command and you listen, standing there only in your lace black underwear, looking at him basically begging him to do something. He hasn’t even kissed you. He is the only man that has given you an orgasm without touching you anywhere else, not even a peck on the lips. He takes his time roaming his gaze along your body, his eyes resting on your breasts a second longer.

“I want you to kiss me”, you let out before you realise the words leaving your mouth. He focuses his attention back on your face and your body is about to burst from the need to feel him closer in any way. He is slowly walking towards you while taking off his trousers, leaving his body now covered only by his black boxers.

“Your entire face is blushing, you’ve been squeezing your thighs together, your breathing is unsteady and you’re giving me blowjob eyes”, hie finishes his sentence when standing a breath away from you. “...you want me to do more than just kiss you baby”, you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding in and he smiles. He is so infuriating standing there, laughing at the misery he has put you in. You can’t let him play you like this.

“If you think you can..-”

“Shut up”, he says and you can’t tell who initiated it but his lips are on yours, kissing and biting as if your mouth is the last source of air and he needs it to survive. His right hand finds purchase on your ass, squeezing tightly pushing you closer to his body and his other hand grabs the back of your head, deepening the kiss. You can feel your underwear sticking on your dump heat and you squeeze your legs together trying to give yourself some comfort. Baekhyun breaks the kiss, bringing his lips next to your ear.

“Is my baby wet?Again?”, he cooes and you wanna smack him across the face because he fucking knows you are.

“Yes I am, and if you don’t do something about it soon I’m gonna have to get myself off”, you lilt and turn to enter his room. It’s way cosier than you would have imagined, with a queen size bed in the middle. You seat at the edge of it and you open your legs as seductively as you can, covering the fact that they’re shivering in anticipation. He enters the room and his eyes are darker than before, his erection clearly visible through his boxers making your mouth water. You cock an eyebrow at him but he doesn’t move. That’s it, you can’t waste anymore time waiting for him to do something. You get up and get on your knees in front of him, removing his underwear with a single movement before you place your palm around his shaft.

“What the fuck Y/N”, he breathes out and his knees turn weak under your touch.

“I’m done waiting for you Byun. Took you 2 years to kiss me. I can’t imagine how long it’ll take you to fuck me”, he is about to protest when you lean forward, putting his dick in your mouth, your nose against his lower belly. His complain turns into a moan when he throws his head back, hands now landing in your hair, pulling slightly. Your lips move around his member, followed by your tongue, hand resting on his balls slightly massaging them. You lick a long stripe from the base of his dick, all the way to the end while pressing your lips around it and then release it with a slight ‘pop’. A string of saliva connecting your mouth with his tip. You open your eyes only to find his intense stare already on your frame, cheeks on fire and mouth agape in an attempt to inhale as much air as he can.

“Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you look right now? I swear I would do anything, anything you want If I could only see you like this everyday”, his voice cracks at the last words and he is slightly releasing his grip on your hair. Your hand still working its way up and down his dick, you tilt your head onwards to give small kitty licks on his tip. You take his hand and while serving him a cheeky smile you place it so that his fingers are cupping the upper part of your neck, right under your jaw. It takes him a moment to understand what you’re thinking and when it hits him, he lets out a desperate breath. You move your chin in front of his dick, lips almost touching his slit currently dripping with pre-cum.

“Apologise for being an asshole these last few months”, you spit.

“Fuck you”. The moment the words slip his lips you open your mouth, taking him so deep that you can feel his tip touching the back of your throat. He moans out your name and you feel your pussy pulsating in the sound. It takes all the self control you can manifest in order to not sneak your fingers inside your knickers and relieve some of the tension.

“I can feel my dick down your throat baby, agh fuck”, he hisses and pulls your hair as you take him as deep as you can once again only that this time you keep him there, swallowing again and again with his dick buried as deep as your throat can take it. A tear rolls down your face and your gag reflex is threatening to kick in, but you refuse to let go before he begs.

“Fuck Y/N, please. please stop, I don’t wanna cum. Fuck please, don’t-”, you release him and you snap him your best victory smile. after whipping your mouth with the back of your palm. You get up and move towards the bed, this time laying on top of it.

“I think I prefer you begging than apologising”, you tease and an unintentional giggle follows.

“You fucking bitch”, he spits jokingly and you burst into laughter but it doesn’t last long. The next moment he is hovering on top of you, lips on yours, hands cupping every curve of your body unable to hold back anymore. He is devouring your neck, jaw and moves lower to leave dark marks on your breasts. In a swing movement he unclips your bra, throwing it behind him next to his long forgotten underwear. Your underwear is next and before you know it, his face is resting between your legs, blowing tiny waves of air on your heat, driving you crazier if that was even possible at this point. He plants small kisses around the area, next to your folds while his hands are massaging the inside of your thighs. Your head falls back to meet his soft pillow and you moan out his name, incapable of hiding the mess he has made of you. Without any warning his soft tongue crushes on your burning area, devouring you as if you were his last meal. Your head is now a foggy mess, hands tangled between his silver locks unconsciously pushing him against your pussy, desperate for more friction. He rests his tongue on your sensitive bud of nerves, dancing in slow circles when he enters two digits in you causing you to let out the most animalistic moan you’ve ever heard yourself producing. Your reaction was the confirmation he was seeking, as his tongue picks up its pace and so do his fingers, his name rolls off your tongue like a cursed poem, again and again until you can feel yourself falling off the edge. He lands a last kiss on your pubic bone as he slowly climbs up your body, now hovering above you. You open your eyes, realising you had them wide shut all this time, only to find his beautiful brown ones staring at you in the most loving way you’ve ever had anyone looking at you.

“So pretty”, he whispers and his fingers linger on your lips and make their way to your cheek where he leaves a shy kiss. You can feel his dick between your legs, yours thrown around his waist and you just stay there, in silence looking in each others eyes. You bring your hand to the side of his jaw only to pull him closer, planting a kiss on his lips. It’s not deep; it’s soft, and sweet, almost romantic. You break it after a few seconds and you rest your forehead on his. A word is about to escape your lips when he frantically drives his length inside you, hitting your g spot so hard that you almost choke at your own gasp.

“Baek, fuck”, you whine. He doesn’t say anything, he only pulls out a little bit and then thrusts back in, hitting that sweet spot that has you seeing stars. He does it again and again and again and you are a moaning mess, head thrown back, his diving in the crook of your neck, sucking, bitting, leaving purple spots in every area he can get his lips on.

“You want me to stop?”, he says out of breath without slowing down at the slightest. You attack his lips and the kiss is nothing like the one you just shared a few moments ago. It’s hungry and desperate and your tongues are fighting for dominance, both your mouths swallowing each others moans. You can feel your pussy throbbing around his dick and you know you wont last long. Baekhyun breaks the kiss but stays close so that his lips can still touch yours.

“Are you close baby? You want to cum? Want to come all over my dick?”, he breathes out and you moan out his name, paralysed under his touch.

“Baek I’m close-I’m gonna..”, a circular move of his hips almost brings you to the brink and you moan out cusses with no meaning. You clench around him once more and he lets out a loud groan.

“Y/N If you do that one more time I won’t be able to hold back. Please”, he pleads and you can see that he is trying to hold back so that you can finish first. His dick fucking into you at a relentless pace has your arms pulling his body closer to yours, nails digging in his back and you know these scratches will be visible for next few days.

“Baek I can’t hold it, please”, you moan out.

“Let go baby, let go. Cum for me”, he whispers next to your ear and there’s nothing in the world you want more than to feel him painting your insides with his orgasm.

“Cum inside Baek, Please, cum with me, ah-”, your orgasm hits you mid-sentence and you clench again and again as it keeps attacking your body in waves. After a couple thrusts you can feel him releasing into you as he lets his body collapse on top of yours, both of you battling to calm your breathing.

“I blame you for missing on the best sex I’ve ever had for the past two years”, you tease him softly and he chuckles. You raise your hand to place a stray hair behind his ear and you can’t help but notice the slight rosiness on his cheeks. ‘what?’, you ask flushing him your warmest smile.

“Be mine?”, his lets out as he rubs his nose against the tip of yours. Your heart skips a bit and a wave of warmth crushes through you, for you haven’t felt so happy in a long, long time.

“Hm, nope, thanks”, you giggle and you kiss him. He is taken aback by your reply, staring at you with eyes wide open like a frightened deer caught in the headlights.

“I’m joking baby”, you spit and burst into laughter.

“You bitch”, he laughs.

216 notes · View notes

dddainuhsoar · 3 years

Text

long nights, part ii

historical and vampire au, guanshan x hetian, pg, unbeta-ed

word count: 1016

you may want to read:

part i

there’s a clatter behind the cash register and hetian looks up to find a pair of widened eyes staring back at him. when the boy realises their eyes have met, his gaze darts away as he turns his head, giving hetian a nice view of how a red flush stretches from the tip of his ear down the side of his neck in a hot stripe. smirk playing on his lips, hetian continues his pretense of selecting a box of chocolates from the assortment on the top shelf.

oh, destiny sure has a way of doing things. hetian should have asked demanded for a more romantic re-meeting. he had wondered if he wasn’t forceful enough when he threatened the god of destiny all those years ago, and it turned out he was right. not only had the god delayed their re-meeting for longer than hetian found acceptable, he had even given them a convenience store as their setting, certainly not the backdrop hetian would choose for a romance that has lasted through disease, disaster and thousands of years.

hetian makes a mental note to hunt down that crummy excuse of a god and give him a piece of his mind. (somewhere in the archival library of the heavenly halls, the god of destiny sneezes.)

as much as hetian desired to reunite with his first love earlier, he has to admit the 20-year-old has never looked lovelier. a few years ago, he wouldn’t have appeared this lovely. he is tall, his shoulders are broad, and his face is clear of the spots that plague pubescent skin. not that hetian wouldn’t have loved guanshan as much, but this felt less… predator-ish.

a lovestruck sigh nearly escapes hetian’s lips when he casts his eyes over the boy’s silhouette again. ah, even the baggy store-regulatory collared shirt and unflattering black apron look nice on his slender frame.

a customer sidles up to the cash register, blocking hetian’s view and cutting him out of his daydream. although slightly irritated to have been interrupted so rudely (yet another marker that the setting was a poor choice resulted from the incompetence of the god of destiny), hetian decides it’s time he finally meets his beloved again, anyway.

with a rectangular box of chocolates in one hand and a cup of steaming hot coffee in the other, hetian queues up behind the customer who’s currently being served. the boy behind the cash register risks a glance at hetian. just a moment, as if he couldn’t help himself, and he’s back to giving the customer her change. he murmurs a “have a nice evening” as she collects her things and leaves. now it’s just the two of them. hetian slides up to the front of the counter, putting down the chocolates and the cup.

their eyes meet just for a moment once more, and then guanshan is keying in the items into the register.

“you’re new,” hetian says matter-of-factly. “when did you start?”

the redheaded boy looks up, surprise colouring his features. “it’s my first week,” he replies. he doesn’t have anything to add to that, so he just stares prettily at hetian before bursting into a blush again.

“are you used to working the night shift yet?” hetian offers.

“oh,” guanshan smiles, as if pleasantly surprised that hetian wants to continue conversing with him, “i’m used to staying up. those college papers don’t write themselves, after all… i’m sure you know what i mean.”

hetian has stopped aging since he last drank guanshan’s blood when he was 20 years old, he also hasn’t studied anything since he was casted out by the demon lord, but he knows a thing or two about staying up past the dead of night.

“those long nights, huh,” hetian says agreeably. with a knuckle, he nudges the cup of coffee on the counter between them towards guanshan. “this will help you through tonight at least.”

realisation followed by more pleasant surprise flash across guanshan’s face.

“th-thank you,” he says, hand curling around the warm cup. “um, will you be paying by cash?”

“no, i…” hetian waves his phone.

guanshan nods. he puts away the cup of coffee behind the register and taps a button on the cash register. the machine beeps, and guanshan gestures for hetian to tap his phone against it.

“since i already have my phone out,” hetian says, “can i add you as a friend?”

guanshan’s lips part as he takes a breath, a small gasp. he’s fighting down a smile and losing. it’s so cute, hetian wants to lean across the counter and crush him in a hug.

“sure,” he stutters. he takes the proffered phone and inputs his username into the app’s search bar. “that’s me.” he shows hetian the screen briefly. “my name is mo guanshan, by the way.” he taps ‘send a friend request’ and returns hetian his phone.

“i can’t believe i forgot to introduce myself first,” hetian says. “i’m hetian.”

“‘hetian’,” guanshan repeats. he opens his mouth as if to say something and then hesitates.

“guanshan,” hetian imitates and offers the owner of that name a friendly smile.

blushing, guanshan finally asks, “my shift ends at 5am… do you want to grab a bite with me then?”

hetian can’t believe his luck. it’s happening, and he hasn’t even turned on any of his seduction techniques. they are destined; they are definitely destined. they were fated to meet back then, and they are fated to meet even now. even if he hadn’t gone and threatened to erase the god of destiny’s own destiny, they would have met again. perhaps, he thinks, this would have happened earlier if he hadn’t meddled. no, but he couldn’t bear to sit around waiting, he had to take matters into his own hands to make sure it happened. and it has, it is…

hetian licks his lips, unaware he’s even doing it until guanshan’s eyes drift down his face.

“i wanted to ask you the same thing,” hetian says.

this time, he’s not letting guanshan go. he’ll take what all those years of waiting owes him.

#19 days #tianshan #19 days fic #wip

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nolanscheeks · 3 years

Text

“Happy Birthday” BB

Hey guys! So I know Brock’s birthday was yesterday but I had a midterm this morning so I couldn’t write till today. As always, this is completely made up! I didn’t proof read, so be patient with me.**

Warnings: light mention of smut

** “Good morning, birthday boy” you more or less screech at Brock the moment you see his eyes blink open just after 9am. **

“Good morning” he yawned, rubbing his eyes. You sat down next to where he nestled under the covers and leaned down to give him a kiss. You love birthdays, any reason to bake a cake, buy things, have a party and celebrate is right up your alley. Unfortunately, this year there would be no crazy night out in downtown Vancouver, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to do everything you could to make your boyfriend’s day special. His team has a game tonight so you guys had made a plan to celebrate the next day, an off day, but you couldn’t resist celebrating on the actual day as well. You’d set an early alarm for morning, as a couple you guys were usually up on the early side, but you wanted to make sure you got up even earlier so you could bake Brock’s favourite chocolate chip banana bread and make him a coffee to surprise him with when he woke up.

“I made you banana bread for your birthday breakfast” you whispered in his ear, gesturing towards the bedside table where you had placed a few slices of banana bread and two hot cups of coffee.

“I thought we were gonna do my birthday tomorrow.”

“Who said we can’t celebrate today, too?” You playfully tapped the tip of his nose. Brock shrugged and pushed up into a seated position, back resting on the headboard, so you could hand him a cup.

“Thank you, y/n” he said, taking a sip. You grabbed your coffee as well and adjusted yourself so you were sitting next to Brock, leaning back against the headboard as well.

“Ok so,” you inhaled, getting a breath so you could recite your birthday plans for him, “we’re going to eat, then let’s take the dogs out and get more coffee, then we can watch a movie or something before your nap and then I have something for you tonight” you winked at him. The something was a bodysuit you’d picked up at Victoria’s Secret while Brock was at practice yesterday. Brock wasn’t a guy that cared if you got dressed up for him or not, constantly insisting you were just as, if not more, beautiful naked or in PJs but you wanted to spice it up for him, especially on his birthday.

“What’s the surprise?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll see when you get home.”

“Is it a puppy?”

You laughed, “yes, Brock. I got you a puppy.” He grinned at you and rested his head on your shoulder.

“We really don’t need another puppy” he gestured to Coolie and Milo, who were spread out on their huge beds that took up half the floor.

“Milo is enough of a puppy.” Milo is a handful, always wanting to play, chewing the furniture, biting at Coolie, and whining at the door even after being outside multiple times. At his name, Milo jumped up and rested his face on the edge of the bed, tail wagging.

“I guess that’s our queue” Brock chuckled, throwing his legs over the side of the best to get up. You hummed in agreement and got up as well, time for a dog walk.

After a relaxing walk, well, as relaxing as Milo would allow, you and Brock settled on the couch with acai bowls for lunch and Gossip Girl, as per his request, on the TV.

“What time do you think you’ll be home tonight?” you ask around a bite of granola. Brock’s game day routine had been pretty standard the whole time you’d known him but with the protocols and new way of doing media he was getting home anywhere between 10 and 11:30pm after games.

“Depends on how it goes and if I’m doing post-games” he shrugs, “got something you have to do?”

“No” you replied, smirking at him.

“I’ll text you.”

“Perfect.” After finishing up lunch and a few too many episodes of Gossip Girl, Brock got up.

“Nap time” he held his hand out, “you should nap with me.”

“Fine, but only because it’s your birthday” you conceded, taking the hand he offered and following him into the bedroom. You weren’t much for naps, sleeping in the middle of the day felt wrong and often let you groggy, but if he wanted to nap together today, you would do it.

You dozed a little, but not really. It felt like days had passed when Brock’s phone went off and he untangled himself from you. You watched him get ready and then kissed him goodbye as he went off to the rink. After closing the door you got to work. You melted chocolate to dip strawberries into, baked a cake, had dinner, walked and fed the dogs, showered, and got into your new lingerie all while the Canucks game played on your TV. You lit candles in the bedroom, so they would be dripping when it was time and set up the chocolate fondue. By the time you had everything ready the game-ending buzzer sounded and you began to watch your phone for Brock’s promised post-game text. The game had been a bit of a bust, a three-nothing shutout in favour of the Oilers, but whatever, that would slip Brock’s mind the moment he got home.

You idly watched your phone, waiting for his text, but by 10:15 it still hadn’t come. Brock had probably forgotten he was supposed to text you which wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, he was often guilty of forgetting small things. You’d been wearing nothing but lingerie, so you threw on a hoodie to keep you warm. Another five minutes passed by and then the front door opened and Brock entered. He shucked off his shoes and coat with a huff, greeting the dogs with a pat on the head instead of the usually enthusiastic hugs they were used to.

“Hey” you greeted, a little wary. He seemed pissed, probably an overflow from the game.

“Hey” he walked over to the fridge, grabbing a protein shake and popping it open.

“You forgot to text me” you teased. You had meant it as a joke, but at your words he tensed up.

“Sorry” he snapped, “I was a little busy getting my ass hung up by the fucking Oilers.”

“I thought you played well” you tried to reassure him. You hadn’t watched the whole game, but what you had watched looked good.

“It doesn’t matter what you thought, we still got shutout.” He drained the last of his protein shake and the plastic bottle into the sink. Brock’s words stung a little bit. Of course your opinion doesn’t turn the loss into a win, but it wasn’t very nice of him to say your opinion didn’t matter. It also hurt that he had forgotten that you had promised a surprise. There was no point arguing though, he would cool-down and you’d get to have birthday sex, just maybe not tonight. You returned to where you’d been sitting on the couch and patted the seat beside you, beckoning one of the dogs to jump up. Sure enough, Coolie hopped up and cuddled into your side.

“Your dad is in a mood” you informed Coolie, speaking as if he could understand you. You heard Brock scoff from the kitchen. You ignored him in favour of scratching Coolie behind the ears.

“Baby” you were completely preoccupied with loving the dog when you heard Brock call out. “You did this?” He was obviously referring to your bedroom, set up like a scene from a romcom. You got up and joined him in the bedroom.

“Yeah” you admitted, “I thought we could have a little fun.”

“Fuck, I love it” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you, “and I love you.”

“Reach under my sweater” you instructed, wanting to guide him towards his surprise. He complied and you felt his arm snake up under the hoodie and grab hold of one of the straps connecting your bra and panties.

“Oh my god” he breathed.

“Happy birthday” you whispered, placing your lips on his.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it:)

#birthday #brock boeser #brock boeser work #brock boeser fanfiction #hockey fanfic #hockey fic #hockey works #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl writing

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marigold-doms · 3 years

Text

mystic destiny || choi san ||

[ ep. 2 ] >> [ ep. 3 ] >> [ ep. 4 ]

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Written by: MIKA🌻

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: just cocky Yeosang

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

|| Ep. 3 || Doll

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Sadly, you find yourself being honest. Slowly shaking your tired head. “You can’t be my boyfriend, San.”

“Why?” His voice was softer than a whisper.

Your eyes close and you can’t open them any longer. “I have no choice but to be with someone I don’t know.”

“Be with me.” He innocently offers. “You know me.”

You manage a weak smile with your eyes closed. “If only it were that simple.”

Before you hear anything else, you slip from consciousness. Falling fast asleep for almost the whole day.

***************************

The warmth of the sun’s beams welcome you from your slumber as they seep in through your blinds. It’s hard to tell how long you’ve slept, since your body aches to cuddle deeper into the comforter. From the position you were laying in, it was so tempting to close your eyes and rest for longer. After all, sleep sort of became your new best friend over the past few months.

Slowly but surely, you begin to recall the day before, taking your time to fully wake yourself up. Remembering everything takes a while but when you do, you shoot up and scan your room. On your bed you see two pearls. One large marble sized pearl and a tiny miniature version.

You pick up the two pearls and drop them into a mason jar of some coins and missing earring sets.

“San?”

There’s a moment of silence before you hear heavy feet slapping the floor. “(Y/n),” You liked hearing how he said your name. “Sleepy one said that you need to eat. It’s almost sunset.”

You nod. Not sure if he’s been awake long. “Did you sleep okay?”

He pulls you by your sweatshirt. “Brush your teeth. Humans have to brush their teeth. Especially you.”

You narrow your eyes at him, glancing into the hallway. Knowing that the last part was Mace’s manipulation.

You start brushing your teeth, still a little groggy. “Did you brush your teeth?”

San nods, proudly. “Yes. I brushed my teeth.”

You pause, wrist stopping as well. You try not to swallow toothpaste when you ask. “With what?”

“You’re holding it.”

********************

Macy’s on the phone with her boyfriend when you come out to eat after yelling at San for using your toothbrush.

“Okay, Woo.” Macy sets down her plate, making sure to flash you a smile when she sees your tired face. “Bye.”

“Good morning.” You wave, gingerly.

“It’s almost dinner time…” Macy mutes herself to speak to you.

“Oh. Guess, I was tired.”

The call ends and she pulls up a chair. “Sit. We have to talk before I go on my date.”

You hated when she used this tone of voice with you. “Am I in trouble?”

San has settled in his seat and he starts bringing food up to his lips. Curiously chewing and smiling when the flavor suits his taste.

“No, but I feel like house rules are a must…”

You remember what you told Macy last night. Of course, it wasn't the full truth. You told her you had a near death experience— and that San saved you.

“I’m not sure how long you’re planning on keeping him here with us y/n but I hope you know that I can’t be responsible for him.”

San’s eyes flit up at the two of you before he smiles and continues eating.

You nod. “Yes, He’ll sleep in my room for as long as he stays.”

Macy lifts a knowing brow. Nothing motherly but in a sense that you could read her thoughts. “Remember, You already have a man.”

Again, you’re aware of your situation. You’ve gotten over the shock of coming back to life. You had to face the reality again. Macy was gracious enough to open up her condo to you in order to at least give you some freedoms. Granted she could only do so much as your cousin, her allowing you to live under the same roof was a blessing and an escape. But to add another head into the living arrangement might be pushing it.

“As if I can change anything. I owe San. He did save my life.”

Your savior chews with his mouth open. “Would’ve been unfortunate if I didn’t...”

Mace’s face was almost comical because of the way her eyebrows knit into confusion. You regret not giving her all the details but maybe it was better to spare her.

“Okay well, Woo is waiting for me downstairs so I’ll be back.” She goes into her room to grab something then comes back out. “I might be back…”

After waving a quick bye to your cousin, she shuts the door behind her. Which leaves you and San alone in the condo. He sits across from you, still wearing Wooyoung’s clothing. The sleeves are nice and snug against his toned arms. He shovels a big bit into his mouth before relishing in the taste. “I forgot how good human food was. Do you always eat food like this?”

You don’t reply. Out of habit, your mind begins to queue a playlist of things to overthink. Mind heavy with complaints and sufferings of your pitiful, privileged life. When Macy wasn’t around it was harder to avoid these thoughts. Sure, growing up financially wealthy came with perks that could get you brownie points with anyone you decided to associate with. But it hurt to grow up with people and parents that only gave a damn about social status and political wealth.

Your life wasn’t even yours to simply choose and move freely in anyway. Despite being a grown woman, that stupid contract with the prime minister’s family, chained you down to give you no choice but to obey. The amount of shame that your family would burden you with if you didn’t would be insurmountable.

“Y/n?” San’s voice brings you back out of your head.

“Yes, San?” You find yourself blushing when he smiles at you for making eye contact with him.

“I’ve been wondering,” He presses his lips together before finishing his sentence. “What can I do to make you happy today?”

“Huh?”

“I look at you and I feel happy. I know it’s because meeting you made me human again but,” San’s unending transparency is a breath of fresh air to you. “You don’t smile often. I want to make you smile.”

To smile? Being Happy? Was that something you could even ask for?

The Following Day

“I can’t believe it…” You paced the doctor’s office. “You’re saying I don’t have it?”

“That’s what the results are telling us, Miss y/l/n… Of course, We could run more tests just to be sure. There’s just no trace of cancer anywhere. Miraculous is the only way I can describe it.”

On the way out of the hospital you weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or scream for joy. Your feelings were already conflicted considering you still thought that it was almost unfair for you to be alive. With San here, you’re undeniably doubting that you are the best person to help him relive a human life either.

One problem starts stumbling into the next when you arrive home.

“Y/n! A random human man is intruding!” San runs into you in the hallway and his look of panic forces you to push past him to see what’s wrong.

You stop at the door. San is still moving around behind you and making incoherent sounds at the man standing in the living room of your apartment.

“What are you doing here?”

The man stares at you bewildered. “What’s another man doing here?”

“Y/n instructed me to guard the condo!” San turns to you after pointing at the man. “I got a strange feeling in my stomach, y/n. Tell him to leave.”

You sigh, choosing to ignore San’s disposition. “Is today the day?”

“You know him?” San questions. Earning a small nod from you.

“You forgot?” The man questions, flicking his light hair from his eyes. “I was going to bail but considering my business is on the line because of this marriage agreement, I had no choice.”

This day couldn’t possibly get any more inconvenient.

“You couldn’t find another smart excuse?”

“Unfortunately,” He smiles at you with a glare in his eyes— you never understood how he did that. His eyes flicker to San before he continues speaking. “I couldn’t keep myself away from you any longer.”

[ Y e o s a n g ‘ s P . O . V . ]

How was this possible?

I thought I got rid of him?

He died in the lake, didn’t he?

This man in front of him couldn’t possibly be him. But judging by his tone of voice and the fact that he looks exactly the same as he remembered him… It was San. Clueless and unaware undoubtedly. But it was San.

How dare he survive after all these years.

Yeosang had made a deal with that stupid god holding a silver stop watch.

To become immortal until he found his lover again. He was sure that it was her. Y/n looked exactly like her. Smelled like her and even spoke like her. He made it sure that when she was old enough to talk that he’d make her his. She had to be his lover.

Seeing San alive and staying in the same place with her. Anger began to flood his veins, his blood simmering to a boil.

He was going to make sure that San stood no chance against him. Emotionally and physically. Even if it meant that he was going to have to make another deal.

********************

In the heavens, the God of Light is watching with a blank expression on his face as the God of Shadows smiles and laughs at the interaction of the meta-humans below.

“Isn’t it marvelous?” Hongjoong humors, fanning himself lightly. “They finally met.”

“Let’s see how it goes. I have a good feeling about this.”

“I don’t.” Yunho bites his nails, a bad habit he’s received from spending so much time in the human world.

“Why do you keep weaseling your way into the conservatory?” The God of the Shadows doesn’t even bear to look at his half brother.

“Brother.” The God of Light warns, clicking his stopwatch shut. He turns to the hybrid. “Son of Jeong Mina—“

“Yunho.”

“—Go down to earth. Your lover is waiting for you.”

“Pardon?” One and a half gods exclaim in unison.

**************

“What’s happening?” Wooyoung smiles at his princess as she finishes the conversation on the phone with y/n.

Macy sighs, frowning as she hangs up. “She’s going on a date with the Prime Minister's son.”

Wooyoung mirrors his girlfriend’s expression. “Maybe we should help her out this time.”

“We can't. They’ll be at the big engagement ball.”

“I can get us in. I am a famous dancer after all.” Wooyoung winks.

“Yeah, that’s why we’re here hiding in your apartment because of your insane fans.”

Off put by the facts, Wooyoung pouts and cocks his head to the side. “What about that guy she met? The one at the condo. What’s he gonna do tonight?”

Mace’s eyes flash with an idea. “Grab your suit. We’re going.”

**************

You smooth out the dress that Yeosang’s maids laid out for you to wear. In any sense you were bound to hate what they picked. And you did. Around the room you see that it’s decorated with elegance and luxury.

“This will be your room once you move in. By the looks of it, you’ll be enjoying life with me in about a month.”

You began to tear up. Cancer should’ve saved you. You would’ve been set free. Your tears turn into harsh sobs while your shoulders shiver from the cold emotion waving over you. Everything in this cursed life has been torturous. Having no choice but to grin and bear it all. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to learn to love this man. He was older than you by at least 5 years— you didn’t have the time of day to really care. He barely knew you and you swore he acted like he’s known you for your entire life.

The 3 timid knocks on the door fool you to think it’s just one of Yeosang’s maids asking for permission to enter. Yet when the door opens, you have no time to wipe the stream of tears ruining the makeup on your face.

“Oh y/n.” The most concern you’ve ever seen on the man's face puts you off but you allow him to approach you. Turning your body away from him. “Why are you crying, Doll?”

Doll?

“Just give me a minute. This is a lot to take in.” You try to mask your emotions by making a shallow excuse. Placing your hand down on the wooden chest that you were sitting on.

Yeosang places his hands in his sharp suited pockets while he buffers to assess the situation. He places his body in front of you in efforts to close off space.

“A change in lifestyle can be scary. Trust me,” He places a gentle hand on the back of your exposed shoulder blade. “I completely understand how intimidating change can be.”

I just barely escaped life by dying and now I’m back to life with no way out. In addition to that, there’s another person’s lifestyle I have to worry about. So, I bet you don’t.

Maybe he reads your face well because you hear him sigh. “Believe it or not. I had to take a while to get used to living life in a new, scary way. After a while, I saw the beauty in it.”

“What makes you think I’ll find the beauty in being signed off to you?”

He tries to conceal the smirk that he’s already flashed you. “From-” His eyes find a place to the left of you. “...the way you would look so pretty standing next to me.”

Your head turns to where his eyes guide you. The huge gold lined mirror mounted on the wall reflected Yeosang standing tall next to you. You gaze at yourself, knowing that your outer appearance masked the horrible storm that was brewing internally. Yeosang’s deep colored orbs meet yours through the reflection. He looks so refined and elegantly poised that your bad posture was starting to embarrass you.

“You don’t think so, Doll?”

“Delusional, really. If you notice, I’m not exactly jumping into your arms in excitement. Also,” You then turn away from the reflection to face him. “Stop calling me that.”

Humor returns to his face and he lifts one side of his lips. “I don’t wanna.”

You find yourself sighing and standing up straight. “What time does this event start?”

“As soon as you and I walk down the hall and into the ballroom.”

“Can’t I just stay in here?”

“I mean, we can. I’ll just have to let everyone know that you and I will be up here the whole night. Alone.” He watches your reaction with amusement as you smooth your dress and use the back of your hand to tidy up your face.

“Lets go.”

Yeosang smiles to himself, gesturing to the dark wood door. “After you, Doll.”

You make a face and walk past him. Hoping that holding onto his arm will pull you through the rest of the night.

***********

“Pleasure to see you and your beautiful wife again Mr. y/l/n.” Yeosang takes your father’s hand into his and firmly shakes it. Your mother beams at Yeosang with sparkles in her eyes. She feels absolutely excited for her daughter to be thrown into the arms of a total stranger—“a rich one” she’d add, for moral purposes.

“Please, child. Call me mom.” The airiness in your mom’s poised voice forces you to bite the inside of your cheek. Yeosang handsomely returns a smile and you can see the blood rush to your mothers face.

As much as the pleasantries were being passed around, you hated being the center of it all. It seemed that you were the focus of all the talk but no one wanted to to consider how you felt about practically being signed off to a rich family. By the sound of all the rumors, Yeosang’s family was the most feared and influential family in the whole country. It was no surprise to the world when they suddenly revealed Yeosang as their eldest.

“You better straighten up, y/n. The whole world is watching and I will not have a child that cracks under pressure. Do not embarrass me after all the work your father and I put into your future.” It’s as if your mother switched off her grace and poise to the mask words she’s whispering into your ear by giving you a hug.

You don’t say a word but for the cameras you bring your arms up to embrace her. If you haven’t already learned by now it was second nature for you to naturally know how to keep a consistent public image. A grateful daughter of one of the most successful business companies in the capital.

Your father follows and you can’t help the swell of pain that sinks into your heart when he meets your eyes. He’s been wearing a tired expression for as long as you remember. In the past, although he was stressed from his line of work, he used to look at you with so much care and hope. Now, it’s hard to search for the compassion he used to have for you. Maybe if he wasn’t so desperate to please your mother, he’d remember his role as your father.

Your body becomes heavy. Now the idea of holding onto Yeosang for the rest of the night seemed like a nice support right about now.

Your silent prayers are answered when Yeosang offers you his arm again. “As much as I’d love to chat more with my future parents. Y/n and I should make our rounds. ” Even though Yeosang was a huge part of your problems, maybe in this moment you were happy that he had enough sense to pull you away from the disappointment that you’ve felt with your once loving parents.

A couple of hours into this dreaded engagement party, you’ve been through so many introductions that you’re sure you’ve met the entire population of the white collar heads of the family.

Yeosang senses your exhaustion. “Should be another 2 hours.”

“Oh gods help me.” You sigh, biting your lip.

“I’ll be doing some separate greetings so I hope you can manage from here, Doll.”

“I don’t need to be babysat. Go do your business things.” Your arms slips from his firm bicep and you take a step away. Choosing to sit in the back where you hopefully go unnoticed by all the big name companies.

“Just two more hours.”

Yes. Just two more.

**** **************

“May the newly engaged couple come forward and have their first drink together. Our capital’s betrothed.”

Such a Victorian tone to use in a setting so modern and classy. You gather the fabric around your finger tips and gaze at Yeosang with indifference. His deep colored eyes seem to search for something of substance with yours. The most you could give back to him was a timid curl of your lip. In a place so unfamiliar and rigid, Yeosang was your only form of stability.

“Let’s see a sweet kiss from the soon to be couple!” A random voice shouts towards the front of the room.

Yeosang plays the role of bashfulness with confidence. Yet, you’re completely uncomfortable with having to show any type of affection—much less physical touch with this man.

A shiver runs down your spine but not from Yeosang.

A voice echoes in your head and you’re sure that you know who it is but, how?

“Y/n, You don’t have to be with him.”

[ ep. 2 ] >> [ ep. 3 ] >> [ ep. 4 ]

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

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