#since I could hide in a booth. that’d be really interesting

[spacequokka]

Pairing: CEO!Sehun x Exotic Dancer!Reader Genre: Childhood Friends AU Rating: 18+ Summary: Of all the places to run into an old friend, a strip club isn’t high on the list. Word Count: 1.3k Warnings: None really. Might be fluffy or angsty. Depends on how hard student debt is hitting you.

Inspired by this post.

In a way, Sehun supposed he should’ve thanked Chanyeol for choosing the family life. Things might have turned out differently if he’d been able to club-hop and party like they did in college. They’d had a rule to never visit the same club twice in a month, but since Sehun was subject to the new group of friends he’d found for nights out, he often found himself in the same place.

The newest obsession was a strip club that’d just opened. It boasted a casino theme with multiple stages and the best dancers in town. While nights out were meant to leave the day’s business behind, he knew the others were interested in investing in what could be a game changer in the industry.

Not him, though. He was just there for drinks and maybe a lap dance.

The inside was classy with touches of pop culture. He particularly liked the combination of crystal with gold accents. Made him feel like he was royalty. Their table was in VIP and he was secretly thrilled about the privacy. He liked to keep to himself and admire the view while nursing his drinks. The dancers on stage were gorgeous, but one in particular caught his eye.

You had to have been new to dancing. Your eyes were too wide at times and you had trouble keeping eye contact with the audience. A terribly shy little thing who knew how to move her body like fluid. The way you danced on the pole was mesmerizing and made him lean forward in his seat. If he was getting a lap dance, it’d be from you. Your performance ended all too soon and someone pushed his shoulder.

“You like her that much?” Mino laughed. Sehun opened his mouth to object but Mino continued, “Don’t worry, I got you. She’s coming up in a bit.”

Well, it was settled. He took a heady gulp of his liquor and bristled at the burn, adjusting his position in the seat. Another dancer took the stage and the others’ attention was stolen. Sehun saw a flash of pink out of the corner of his eye and saw you approaching their section. As you got closer to him, he studied your face, recognition tickling the back of his mind. He held out his hand for you and you took it, allowing him to guide you to him without bothering his friends.

“Would you like me to dance for you?”

Your voice threw him for a loop. It triggered nostalgia in the last place he’d ever want to experience it. He gripped your hand a little tighter and leaned in closer, turning his head away so you’d have his ear. “Say that again.”

“Dance? Do you want me to dance?”

He wasn’t mistaken. Your voice was more than just familiar to him. It was home. Back in his mother’s kitchen tasting pastries before going out to play. Back on the playground where he hid for games of hide-and-seek or searched for eyes that doubled in size when found.

“_____?” He looked at you, closer this time, inspecting every inch of your face. Sure enough, if he ignored the false eyelashes and slab of makeup, there you were. His lost friend from his childhood.

You froze upon hearing your name, eyes darting all over the place in panic before landing on his face. For the first time that evening, you looked someone in the eyes. “S-sehun?!”

He instantly lost interest in it all. The club. The dancers. His friends. He put down his drink and stood, quickly unbuttoning his suit jacket and shrugging it off.

“W-what are you doing?” You tried to stop him from stripping. “I don’t think they hire on the spot like this.”

“Oh, shut up.” He muttered, taking the jacket in his hands and putting it around your shoulders, shielding your body from view. “Outside, now.”

“We can’t just walk out. Security will—”

“Kiss my ass.” He finished as he guided you out of the VIP booth and towards the nearest exit sign. A big guy in a too-tight Baby GAP shirt blocked your path. “Let us through.”

“No one leaves with the dancers. No exceptions.” The guy tapped his hip and flashed the butt of a stun gun. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Sehun, he’s serious. He’ll use it if you push it.” You looked at him over your shoulder. “Can’t we just talk here? It’s a little quieter.”

Sehun groaned but nodded. “Fine.” He took a deep breath. “Where do I even begin? Why are you here? What are you doing?”

You clutched his jacket a little tighter around your body, the loss of body heat from the crowd noticeable with the skimpy two-piece you had on. “Without boring you with details…med school’s expensive. So is housing and food and…adulting is a lot harder than I thought. I had a few false starts and here I am, just trying to keep from dropping out.”

From the way your beautiful eyes went cold and distant, he knew there was so much more to the story than that. Lots of heartache and pain in just your voice alone. “How long have you been here?”

You shook your head and shrugged. “This is my first week. Still a newbie.”

He hated seeing you like this. Small and unsure. Guilt crawled down his throat and suffocated him. Of all people, he should’ve kept in touch with you. Even a phone call here or there to make sure everything was okay. He’d gotten so wrapped up in the whirlwind success of his modeling career and clothing line that he’d forgotten the people who’d gotten him through the defining moments of his life. Like you encouraging him to follow his dreams instead of giving in to his parents’ wishes for a medical student.

“Come home with me.” As soon as he blurted the words out, he wished he could take them back, if nothing else but to rephrase them better. “I mean, you don’t have to do this. I have space, an extra room you can have.”

“What? Oh, Hun, I couldn’t—”

“You could. You’d save a lot of money if you did.” The thought of you being safe and cared for, under his wing, gave him peace of mind he didn’t know he needed. “Right, and shit, I could do so much more. You wouldn’t have to pay me anything so you could save up. God, how much is your tuition? I could pay that off for you.”

You sputtered and shook your head frantically, hands trying to grab his shirt to get his attention. “Wait! I can’t let you do that. I can’t afford to pay you back for any of that stuff.”

“But I want to do it. And I don’t want money from you either. You were there for me when I needed it. Let me be there for you.” He could tell by the faraway look in your eyes that “no” was still on the tip of your tongue. He had a dirty trick up his sleeve, but if it meant getting you out of there and somewhere safe where you didn’t have to worry about your financial situation, he’d use it. “Please don’t make me call your mom.”

The timid look in your eyes gave way to something fierce and deadly. You let go of his shirt. “Really? You’re gonna use my mom against me?”

“If it works, it works. I know how much you care about her opinion. She’ll fly out here and kick your ass.” He put his hands in his pockets. “Now, are we leaving? I can have my assistant meet us at my place with things you need until we can get your stuff.”

⟨⟨ Series ML || Group ML ⟩⟩

#exo-writers-net #thepopuniverse #kvanity #exo fluff #exo drabbles #exo scenarios #exo imagines #sehun fluff #sehun x reader #sehun x you #exo as rich kids

[novelconcepts]

Ya know, I've considered a lot of career pathways for you, like maybe you work for a company which snuggles in pharmaceutical medications and sells them for a much-lower-than-retail price, or maybe you're a radio personality who curates their online existence to be the opposite of their real world existence, but every time I reread the hitman fic I come back to you working for the CIA. At least in an admin role. I hope you're enjoying it.

Y’know, when I joined this glorious hellsite in 2009, I did not anticipate reaching a point where people would amuse themselves with increasingly-wild stabs at what I do for a living.

But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

#ask #also shhhhh some secrets are essential #radio personality is probably the one entertainment role outside of writer I could possibly do though #since I could hide in a booth. that’d be really interesting

[dourpeep]

i have even more ideas now...

what about like the moment you open up about your relationship with kazuxiao the fans who were already seeing that happen were celebrating and on both of y'alls insta or something is where you announce and it's like a picture of all 3 of you chilling together or something

and then when they finally appear on a variety show they're just questioned throughly and they talk about how you guys meet and what they like about you

ok but the moments where you just feel sort of insecure since being an idol is hard and you're technically dating your seniors and you're just hit by the antis who are against yourself relationship so you lock yourself in your room in your dorm by yourself to cope. your roommate (can be whoever) contacts them both and they immediately come over and come in and offer soft kisses and soft murmurs of reassurance that they'll never leave you and that everything's gonna be ok.

side note i can see xiao just being a whole meme without realizing?? for like variety shows he's just known for his dead pan expression and then i can see him being so competitive on shows like running man..mans ripping tags left and right, while kazuhas just hiding in a weird spot or something

kazuha on the other hand i can see him being a troll, he likes to mess around with the hosts of the show and manages to mess up some of their plans, he also likes messing with his group members, where xiao likes to say that kazuha looks innocent but is a part of the devil line with venti

onto albedo i can see him like answering questions in his vlive and fans realize that a lot of his songs are more romantic and sort of pining?? and they're asking where the motivation is from. he answers that it's just something that he saw recently so he felt motivated (it wasn't the fact that he had realized that he was 100% in love with you)

but like all of this mans inspiration comes from you, he's had multiple songs dedicated to you before your relationship was even open to the public, and when your relationship finally does, it just clicks for fans and it suddenly makes sense, your ship name trends worldwide for the day

but how you and albedo met, i can see both of you guys being in the industry already and you guys are sort of know each other but it was for a one time off collab with other artists involved so you didn't really talk with each other. like i said before albedos a solo artist while i can see you being a part of a popular group already. but then both of your companies decided to do another collab and especially picked you two since you guys already worked on a collab before.

at first it was like awkward since albedos really socially awkward but then things click when you guys start writing the song together. everything just matches so well?? and you guys just compliment each other?? and that's when you learn of albedo just staying at the studio so late so you often bring food. this leads to you guys getting closer and albedo even stops his work just to talk to you more. when your song comes out and everyone is waiting for the stage, there's just so much tension?? but the good kinda and everyone is awed by the song and the vocals coming from you and albedo.

i can also see the both of you guys appearing on variety shows together too, like appearing on a show where you two travel to another place and experience the culture there, with albedo being your tour guide and showing you all the famous places (one of the many times where fans were awed by his research and knowledge) and then if you guys were to appear together again after you guys reveal your relationship, a lot of the times they show idols as they wake up, they'll see you and albedo being clingy af to each other.

on another side note, albedos totally a troll on variety shows, he likes messing around with the hosts and other contestants since a lot of the time he's not really interested in the show itself, it's more for publicity. however, when he first appeared on a show with you fans noticed that he actually seemed interested for once and that's where your ship name started.

albedos totally a golden child tho, he's like basically perfect in everything so a lot of the times variety shows don't catch him slipping, however the one time that he did was when you were mentioned, the clip of with his ears bright red was trending for a couple of days :)

GIVING ME SO MUCH GOOD FOOD THANK YOU ANON

I think that this covers everything hehehe so I won't add to-

wait wait I put it all under the cut b/c it's a lot again-

Okay okay but like for the 'announcement' picture, what if it's like those photo booth pics (but like each picture you need to scroll through like on Insta) where it's cute and wholesome! The three of you are having fun wearing some silly glasses or hats, doing peace signs or finger hearts....and the very last photo is the three of you sharing a kiss- or, at least trying to.

It's sweet, a little silly, and most of your fans take it really well! After all, they can see the chemistry that you share and can't deny that the three of you would have a good relationship.

As for the insecurities of dating your seniors, Kazuha and Xiao are quick to knock back any of those worries. They love you so, so much and hate the fact that something like that makes you doubt for a single second. If anyone ever tries to bring it up, you know that they're going to immediately quip back.

Naturally, you're roomed with Venven :D He's technically an up-and-coming after he stopped doing idol stuff for a few years, so not only does he know the ropes, but he's also one of your biggest fans and biggest supports (outside of Kazuha and Xiao).

Though he's silly and light-hearted, he's quick to recognize when things are serious and need handling.

So as soon as he sees that you're not doing so great or if he notices the comments on your posts are going in a bad direction, he speed dials Xiao and the two of your boyfriends are right at the door in under 15.

Not only are they fast about it, but they have all your favorite snacks, a movie or two, some popcorn, and a ton of love and affection because they'll be damned if their love is going to be affected by some asshole's comments about their love life! What do they know anyway??

Actually this all could work too if Kazuha and Xiao are part of 4NEMO-

Hmmm

That'd cause so much more ruckus- not only is half of one of the most popular idol groups are taken, but by the same person??? And each other??? Man, that's wack.

BUT THE GAMESHOWS

Xiao would most certainly be super intense with those. He just can't help it--competition drives his blood and makes something snap in him. He's dead serious about doing well, regardless of the game. I actually have never watched said game shows, but--

Like...he's out for blood. No one is safe. Not even you or Kazuha if you're on opposing teams, though he'll be a bit more gentle. Maybe even with the hint of a smile while you have an expression of utter shock at the fact that he's just so fast-

Or if it's not a game show and instead you're doing some sort of idol group activity with a few others to get to know each other?

Someone suggests ping pong and, knowing how competitive Xiao gets, he's pitted up against Tartaglia and man. That's scary. There's no doubt that someone would clip the video and make it into an overly-dramatic retelling complete with music.

Hilarious.

As for Kazuha! He'd be a bit of a mish mosh! He enjoys poking fun at others, and he's so sly! Those poor hosts don't realize that he's goading them on, but sure enough--he is. Who knew that his charming smile and mild-mannered attitude could be so devastating?

But even then, he's mostly wholesome! There's a lot of little clips, mostly of your doing, of him in a 'kiss the chef' apron getting caught off guard while cooking something up. The videos aren't great because you're giggling while recording and he ends up placing the ladle down calmly before wrapping you up in his arms. Half the video ends up being the two of you laughing and joking while it's pointed at a weird angle towards the counter.

Sometimes it'll point just right and you'll get a half-blurred view of Xiao sitting at the kitchen island with his reading glasses perched on his nose and book forgotten. He tends to get up and join in for a few smooches before reminding Kazuha of the food that's still cooking.

--

Albedo!! He absolutely is the golden child. He's fantastic handling things under pressure in a cool, calm manner. Handsome, charismatic, incredibly smart--man's hit all the stops and just keeps going.

It's not until it comes out that the two of you are together that his cool façade (hardly one, though) falters and at the mere mention of you, he'll go soft. There's a tenderness in his eyes, a small smile on his lips, and his blush? Absolutely adorable. How can anyone object when he's obviously so in love with you?

And the idea you mentioned with the two of you traveling and experiencing stuff together sounds so cute (':

He particularly enjoys exploring new cuisine, so expect him to feed you some food from his plate-

There's also a few times where you two have gotten lost in the new places, more because you're both so busy taking in the sights to realize you've taken five wrong turns- But then you make it into a whole adventure, foregoing the map and deciding to wander around. What better way to discover and learn about somewhere than getting lost and wandering?

You find quite a few hidden gems this way since otherwise you'd be hitting more popular areas!

Wait- do they really show idols waking up???

Ahh regardless, Albedo's definitely a cuddler. He loves it, can't get enough of it. It's not often that he gets a good night's rest, but with you it seems like he's fully recharged and ready for the day! It's cute too because it doesn't matter--big spoon or little spoon, you on his chest or him resting on yours. Even a few times with you facing each other with your hands intertwined.

I also agree that Albedo would mess with the game show's hosts and contestants. Not only would he, but he'd be entirely smug about it (after all, we need to have that #smugbedo going on).

No doubt, there's been times where the cameras even focus/zoom in on him where he's sitting because he's got that smirk on his face.

#anon asks #GIdol #idol xiao #idol kazuha #idol albedo #kazuha x xiao x reader #xiao and his two lovely dumb s/o's #xiao #kazuha #albedo #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact imagines #albedo x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact idol au #genshin impact xiao #genshin impact kazuha #genshin impact albedo #I really love this au if you can't tell #this is like 1k words FOIEFIAHE

[johannstutt413]

(requested by coldgoldlazarus)

“Hey, Rope, question.” Vanilla approached the Cautus while they were both working the northern trading post. “Did you grab a bottle of pills from my pocket earlier?”

“Maybe? Hang on...No, I’ve just got mine in my pocket.” She gave the Vouivre a thumbs-up after patting herself down.

The Vanguard reached into her bag and pulled out a prescription bottle. “You might want to check the label, because these aren’t Biggie’s stomach meds.”

“They aren’t?” She read the label on her bottle. “Oh, okay, so those are my- Oh! Oh, no...”

“It’s fine - I’m just glad we checked before you had to get your stomach pumped, and Biggie melted through his home again. Honestly, it’s really impressive you took them in the first place and remembered to give them back. I remember the last time you accidentally took my wallet and I had to ask Liz to cover lunch for me.”

Rope sighed. “Yeah, that’s good, it’s just...I didn’t want anyone to know, you know? Being infected is one thing, but if people knew, they might look at me differently.”

“...If they knew what?” The Vouivre cocked her head. “I think I’m missing something.”

“Wait, so you didn’t read the bottle?”

Vanilla was steadily getting more confused. “No, I read it, but I don’t know what it is. What do you take Aldactone for? It’s not a migraine medication, is it?”

“No, it definitely isn’t that.” She couldn’t help but chuckle a little at that; she’d forgotten who she was talking to. Telling her couldn’t hurt at this point. “It’s part of my hormone therapy so I can, uh...be the me on the outside I am on the inside, if that makes sense?”

“Not really?” The Vouivre was quick to admit.

To be fair, the Cautus never knew how to answer questions like this. “I’m a woman, but my body doesn’t match - or at least, it didn’t until I met Aak.”

“Oh!” A few puzzle pieces clicked together in her mind. “Now I get it.”

“Good, cuz I don’t know if I could find another way to explain it,” she sighed, relieved.

That didn’t mean that was her last question, though. “Do you not like talking about it?”

“No, I don’t.” For exactly this reason, honestly. “People start asking me all kinds of questions about it, and I just wanna be me, you know? That’s the whole reason I have to worry about the pills and stuff.”

“Right, sorry. I, uh, won’t ask anything else.”

Rope looked at her for a moment before sighing again. “You have a lot of questions, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Vanilla visibly relaxed. “I don’t want to bother you, though.”

“...Tell you what: buy me dinner, and I’ll answer a couple questions, whatever you’ve got. Sound good?”

That did perk the Vouivre’s interest, and, somewhat unexpectedly, a bit of a blush, too. “I’d like that, yeah. Tonight or...”

“Sure, if you don’t have plans.” That was a very enthusiastic no, apparently. “Cool. Well, I’m gonna take a break, so talk to you later!”

“Uh-huh!” Once she’d left, Vanilla let herself start breathing rapidly before pulling out her phone to text Franka. She had a favor she needed to ask.

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

About an hour after dinner service opened in the cafeteria, Rope got a message from Vanilla saying she was on her way; that’d given the Cautus enough time to pick out something to wear - something without pockets, to keep herself from stealing as much stuff as she might with places to put it - and psyche herself up for a kind of awkward conversation with someone she worked with and hung out with at a couple of parties but didn’t talk to all that much otherwise. Still, that put her in the Top Ten on her “friends and associates” list, since Rope didn’t really talk a lot, period, and she was so innocent and soft...Would’ve been a good mark back in the day, honestly. Course, if she tried anything serious these days, Dobermann would chew her head off, and who knows what Blacksteel would do to her…

Ding-dong! That was her cue. The Cautus gave herself one last once-over and opened the door. “Evening, Va...Vanilla.” Holy shit, she cleaned up well.

“Good evening.” The Vouivre looked more than a little out of her element, admittedly, but that just added to the charm. “I, uh, already got us a table at a place, if that’s alright?”

“Hey, I came in from off the streets; anything’s good enough for me.” True, she did have a couple preferences, but since her...since Vanilla was paying, it wasn’t going to be an issue. What was this, exactly? And wait, didn’t this imply she’d make reservations somewhere? Like people did on dates in movies or whatever?

Doing her best not to jump to conclusions, Rope walked with Vanilla to a nice-looking Siracusan place not too far from her apartment. “This place looks nice, but you didn’t have to spoil me.”

“I know, but uh...I wanted to.” Since there was no way in hell she could be nonchalant about this, she was just going to be as genuine as possible. “We’re at a corner booth, and they aren’t too busy tonight, so we won’t have people listening in on us.”

“Well, well, I didn’t expect you to think of that. Sorry, that sounded meaner than I meant it to be.”

The Vouivre shrugged. “It’s fine - I know people don’t expect it from me. Um, are we drinking tonight, do you think?”

“It’s your money, not mine,” the Cautus replied, “but it’ll probably help if I have a lil’ wine.”

“That works. Excuse me, reservation for 2 for Vanilla?” And with that, their dinner date began.

Once they’d been seated, given a bottle of wine to start with, and ordered their meals, Rope took the lead. “So, you’ve got at least a couple questions for me, right? Wanna make this worth the cash you’re spending on me, after all.”

“How did you know?” That was the most interesting question to her. “Your body says one thing, your heart says another, how do you know which one’s right?”

“I mean, you don’t eat the wrapper, you eat the candy, right? Took some time to figure out why I felt so uncomfortable just, well, being, but as soon as I did, I knew what I wanted to do. Problem is, it’s kinda expensive to get the medications and the surgery and stuff, so for someone stealing just to eat every day, there wasn’t a lot I could do. Then I met Aak, and he helped me out a lot before I got locked up - he’s actually the one who gets me my prescriptions here, too - but I lost some progress since they wouldn’t let me take my meds in prison. The Doctor got me out of there, though, and now I have all the support I need. Sorry, that was more than you asked for.”

Vanilla smiled. “That’s alright; I wanted to ask about all of it. You know, I really had no idea. I mean, even up close, you’re so pretty, I’d never have guessed...”

“Thanks, I think.” Something about that smile raised a question in the Cautus’ mind, so she decided to try and confirm her suspicions. “Where’d you buy that dress, by the way? It looks really good on you.”

“Oh, thank you! Croissant’s resale shop, they might not have another one, but she sells a lot of good stuff for reasonable prices.” It helped that she had a concrete answer, but there was no hiding how happy the Vouivre was to receive that compliment.

Which gave Rope the confidence she needed to say, “It looks like it’s pretty easy to take off, too.”

“Yeah, it’s only got the one strap that...” Vanilla realized what’d happened when the Cautus started giggling. “I was going to ask for help with that later, but I guess you beat me to the punch.”

“If I ever had doubts I was a woman, I definitely don’t right now.”

Now the Vouivre was bright red. “Am I really that obvious?”

“You don’t wear a sign or anything,” Rope replied, still smiling genuinely, “but the way you’ve been looking at me tonight was enough.”

“Yeah, I guess I, um, have been staring...Does this count as a date?”

Rope nodded, having thought she’d regained her composure but finding more giggles to release. “It does now. Oh, man. This was the idea from the beginning, right?”

“I was going to ask you out when I went to give you your meds back,” Vanilla admitted, “so when you asked me to take you out, it was kind of perfect.”

“Wow. I played right into your hands, huh?” The Cautus hadn’t done something like that since she’d tried to pick Miss Swire’s pocket all those months ago - the thing that’d gotten her locked up, actually.

She shrugged. “You kind of did, yeah. We should probably eat our food before it gets too much colder.”

“Shit, how long have we been talking? I lost track.” The ex-thief cut into her steak, watching it bleed with a satisfied smile. “Nice and rare. Oh, sorry, you’re an animal-person, right?”

“W-well, as long as they’re raised humanely, being used for protein isn’t the worst thing that could happen to them. I mean, slugs eat meat, too, although Biggie’s actually doing really well on the low-meat high-protein diet I have him on.” At the mention of her beloved pet, her eyes lit up.

Rope leaned forward. “I’ve seen you driving him around base in a stroller before. You really love him, don’t you?”

“He’s so precious, how could you not!” And as planned, she was off. “Oh, you should have seen him the other day...”

What’d started off with an awkward moment in the trading post was quickly shaping up to be the best night either of them had had in awhile; as the Vouivre began regaling her with stories of her precious pet slugs, the Cautus ate her meal, paying close attention. Vanilla would’ve made an easy mark, it was true, but looking at her now, that was the last thing on Rope’s mind, even though she had plenty of thoughts on what she could do with her...

#arknights #arknights fic #rope (arknights) #vanilla (arknights) #i have no idea if what i wrote even remotely resembles something realistic #except for Vanilla going off about Biggie of course #and them both working at a trade post together #cuz base skills #but uh...yeah #comments compliments critiques and what have you if you don't mind #thanks for not murdering me on the spot for trying this #and thanks coldgoldlazarus for submitting the request and helping me expand my writing horizons

[jae-canikeepyou]

| right here & now | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: alternate universe + youtuber!yn

a/n: thank you for the request and i really loved writing this so much even if the idea of having yuno as my bf will never happen lol ;-; anyway, i hope you enjoy reading my lovelies! 💕~j.

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the curtains swayed with the wind spells that entered your room, marking a new morning. this morning however, was a very special one that you planned this for months hoping it would pull off like you wanted it to. you stretched in your bed, kicking off the blankets that trapped the heat around your body. the clock said 6 a.m. and you had more than enough time to prepare for the flight scheduled at noon.

pressing the button to record, you began your vlog by doing a gwrm routine and choosing your ootd, in which you were always always indecisive for because sometimes you would find yourself facetiming him and he’d pick the right one for you. perks of having a fashionable boyfriend, yes?

“guys..” you let one a little whine as you pat lightly on your face with a concealer. “i’m really nervous because even though i texted yuno that i’ll be having a meeting for a collab with another channel, i can’t imagine how he’d feel if i didn’t reply him for the next hours. or maybe if i don’t reply him at all.”

of course being the busy people you both were, even a message from each other was a big deal because hello, a long distance relationship was a struggling kind and some instances, fall-outs were common. although you did understand the need of physical comfort from a loved one, it was a matter of trust and patience on a daily basis that you would eventually end up in his arms when that time came.

and that time was today.

how you met nct 127’s jaehyun was definitely unexpected. you were one of the few singer-songwriter youtubers invited to a performance at an event along with other renowned singers. the group came as a special guest, giving fans and fellow artists greetings and basically hyped up the entire hall with their music as if it was their concert alone. you weren’t that interested at first since the event was your very first invitation, so you were more conscious on yourself than having the time to appreciate others, but you were a fan of nct 127’s music.

jaehyun too was lowkey, a fan of your channel. he didn’t want to show how giddy he felt when you stood on that stage; a guitar in hand and just a microphone by your lips. he was aware of the hand-held cameras the staff pointed him with, and tried to keep a straight face. however, when you reached the peak of your unplugged version of your song, the feels hit him differently. you sounded soulful, gentle, that it grew the urge for him to want to do a collab with you.

so when the event finished and you were told to meet other artists at their respective tent / booths, he ran into you— he couldn’t hide his smile anymore. you shook hands with him, realizing that he didn’t took his eyes off of you. “you were amazing out there.” you shyly complimented him, his shimmering suit shone like his eyes did.

“i’d say the same with you y/n.” he smiled and liked the way how your name rolled on his tongue. “i hope we can do a collab some day.”

“that’d be nice.”

jaehyun itched to have contact with you since then; that was three years ago. the last time he saw you in person was when you went to seoul weeks after for an interview. his friends could see the pink dusting his cheeks when you posted a new song, cover or vlog. sometimes he’d forget there was practice because he was too immersed into you. it was up until a couple of months after the event had he built up the courage to direct message you in instragram, finally having to connect with you.

then the rest was history and soon reaching the third year of your relationship. both of your feelings were mutual and came to a decision that you both were a couple. for jaehyun the most, it was quite difficult to dodge the questions at talk shows/interviews relating to love life when all he had in his heart was you and you only. on the other hand, you had to ignore questions on insta live whether you were seeing anyone; because they noticed a different aura within you on every video you upload.

“if you’re wondering how i’m planning to ‘ignore’ yuno.. well, i chose to not use my phone for the next 14 hours. i have to pretend that i’m ‘busy’ and ‘occupied’ with work.” you now entered the lift to exit your apartment and headed to the taxi waiting for you. “hopefully it’ll convince him why i couldn’t use my phone.”

you continued to film your surrounding for aesthetics, choosing the suitable background music. so far in the day, you talked about how hard long distance was. not seeing jaehyun personally for three years was a challenge. sometimes when you knew that he’d visit the city for a tour, you’d be filled with work and filming and bummed out because you wouldn’t be able to see him.

johnny messaged you just before your breakfast that they just finished rehearsal and were now taking a break. you sighed a lot more today as you knew he’d be sending you a message any second.

or so you thought.

♡  yuno ♡  would like to facetime you.

you panicked because right now, you were at the airport. however, luckily enough, you were at a fastfood chain located a little far off from the departure hall, so he wouldn’t notice that you were at the airport and just pigging out at some random restaurant. you placed the phone just beside your laptop, pretending to ‘edit’ videos when you were actually chatting away with johnny for the plans when you reach seoul. the camera was at the other side of your belongings, seated at a blind spot where only you could be seen in his perspective.

“hi babe.” he greeted you with a flying kiss as his sweat rolled down his temples. “oh? you’re outside this early?” he moved sideway as if he could see anything behind you.

“i’m having breakfast.” you showed a subway sandwich and an orange juice. “yeah well, i’m preparing for a meeting later.”

gosh i hate lying to him.

he moistened his lips, brushing his hair back with a headband. “what meeting?” he raised a brow, making you chuckle that he obviously didn’t see your message. 

you rolled your eyes, turning the phone to the laptop screen and showed him the chat from the night before. “i told you i have a collab with another channel, didn’t i? anyway, i have to finish up and head for the meeting. call you later?”

“ah..” he whined. “we didn’t even talk for a minute, but okay. i’ll wash up and call you again. take care babe! i love you so much.”

“i love you too.” you said before ending the call. clenching your chest, you sighed deeply as you faced the camera that recorded the whole conversation. “this is hard. i never expected him to call me. i’ll make sure i won’t use my phone starting from now.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you yawned quite loudly as you watched the airplane icon reach the borderline of south korea at the screen before you. now that you thought about it, you haven’t recorded anything since the departure and it was a perfect timing because the sun was just rising by your side of the window.

“okay, hello everyone. i’ve been flying for hours that i lost count. but, i’m reaching seoul in about thirty minutes, so i’ll make this quick.” zooming into the ombré sky of blue, pink and orange combined, you hummed a tune that jaehyun used to sing to you to sleep. “see that beautiful colors. my boyfriend sees this morning every day and i’m seeing him really soon.”

once you were out of the aircraft and walking along the hall the leads to the exit, your heart stopped in realization that not only you were seeing jaehyun as a fan after three full years, but actually seeing him officially as his girlfriend. and this thought made your eyes well because you couldn’t believe it was really happening. mixtures of excitement and nervousness took over your body that perhaps other passengers recognised you, and you waved at them in response that you were in seoul for collaboration.

the boys’ manager dressed- rather disguised himself as your guide and picked you up at the airport. he waved at you to catch your attention. when you did so, johnny dialled to call you as he was seated at the car parked outside. “y/n!” he greeted. “turn around! i’m in the car!”

you opened the door and he hugged you quick. his camera was pointed directly at you, obviously recording the moment for jaehyun to watch later. “hi johnny! it’s been so long!”

“too long! we missed a lot of chances to see other whenever the group visits your city. sometimes jae would tear up- or cry but don’t tell him i told you that.” he giggled and helped you sit comfortably in the car. “are you vlogging right now?”

“aw that’s sweet of him.” you pout. “yes i’ve been vlogging since i left my apartment. say hello to the fam.”

“hey what’s up it’s your boy johnny.” he waved and curled his fingers at the cringiness of himself.

johnny felt his phone vibrating. it was a call from mark who updates him of jaehyun’s movements while he was out of the studio. the call was on speaker so you would be able to hear the conversation. “hyung. should i wake him up now?”

you giggled at how that was exactly jaehyun’s habits. “i think you should, mark.” your voice alerting him of your presence.

the younger boy held his reactions in a whisper, afraid that he might awake your boyfriend. “oh my g- hi y/n! i love your acoustic cover of ‘love me now’. jaehyun hyung teared up last night after watching it.”

“really? he teared up again?” your heard sank to the ground knowing how he really felt behind the cameras separating the both of you. your arms weakened at the point but continued to vlog.

“yeah. hold up i’m just gonna-” mark paused and all you heard was the fall of headphones and low groans. “hyung, johnny said he’ll get us food. what do you want?”

a groggy voice contemplated the events of today before yelping in shock that he has a recording to finish. “agh crap what time is it?” jaehyun asked, even if you wanted to speak, johnny refrained you from doing so. you shouldn’t blow your cover now.

“it’s quarter past two.” mark said and helped the dude up on his toes. “we’re getting fried chicken.”

“tsk i was about to call y/n after i washed up.” jaehyun rubbed his eyes. “oh yeah johnny, better come here quick. taeyong hyung said we still have some parts to record.”

you held in your laughs as you covered your lips, sharing identical expressions with johnny. he breathed out before speaking. “uh yeah sure, but i did my part of the cover already. so it’s just you left. see you soon.”

the car was pulled over the studio the boys have been gathered at. some were practicing their choreography while others were resting up. you walked slower than usual and johnny noticed this gestures of yours. who wouldn’t be nervous at a situation like this? it has been three years, so he could imagine the tension between you and yourself only.

mark told everyone to take caution because jaehyun has a sharp eye, that he could read the atmosphere of anything was fishy. even the slight percent of that feeling he could crack an egg open, and the plan would fail. they didn’t want that to happen, this was a special moment for him and you came all the way to surprise him. the effort alone was already precious.

you vlogged again, your chest began its countdown whilst you hid behind a drumset at the recording booth. gladly though, your frame was petite compared to the instrument so you wouldn’t be seen immediately at first glance. cameras were set up and hidden at corners where jaehyun couldn’t see them. all there was was a foldable compact device attached to the mic stand.

the plan was to let jaehyun sing his part of high school musical cover of ‘right here, right now’, due to that one time he playfully joked about being your troy bolton. so you kept that request in mind and chose to do the recording on the day you came to seoul. you pre-recorded your part last week, and you would wait for him to finish his part.

“this is it guys. my hand is shaking, my heart feels like its about to come out of me. i’m already tearing up because i’m going see yuno in less than five min-”

the door swung open causing you to jolt, making one drumstick slide to its abyss, but you managed to catch before it fell. flutters of papers were then placed on the black metal stand, and a low baritone clearing throat for a vocal exercise sure revealed it was yuno. just the impact of careless actions alone, you could tell the person in the studio was indeed your boyfriend.

you exchanged looks from the camera and to jaehyun, repeating this several times because it was hard to catch the timing.

“which part do i have to re-do?” jaehyun’s voice sent shivers down your spine and you fanned yourself keep your calm. “hm? this is a new song cover? okay, but this is a duet though.” he said, checking the titles for the second time. the guys had to bend down slightly from where jaehyun was standing as he was very clueless. “ah so it’s the reprise version? it’s pretty short.” he cleared his throat again.

“can you imagine what would happen, if we could have any dream?..” gosh how honey like his voice was. “i’d wish this moment, was ours to own it and that it would never leave..”

“then i would thank that star, that made our wish come true.”

jaehyun’s eyes grew as your voice was heard through the headphones. he tried to keep his cool, even though his expression changed a little. “‘cause he knows that where you are, is where i should be too.”

in a few seconds the chorus was about to be sung, you left your camera at the bass drum when you pulled him for a back hug, after when he sang.

“right here. right now?..” jaehyun lost tune at the latter word, turning to see the person who was hugging him; soon revealing your beaming smile. he looked back at his friends who were jumping and cheering, he squinted at their phones and cameras that were up to capture the moment.

he removed his headphones as reality punched him in the gut, arms quickly wrapping you for a longing embrace. “y/n..” he said, carrying you slightly to enjoy the surprise. the boys came into the recording studio, your ears ringing at their volumes of woohoo’s and yeah’s.

he finally saw you in the flesh, the real deal. not behind low quality screens or hours of long phone calls. you were with him now, and that was all that mattered to him.

“surprise?” you tiptoed to kiss his cheek but he nuzzled himself at the crook of your neck to hide his tears. they were dampening your clothes a little. “aw babe.”

“is he crying?” johnny asked with a teasing voice and when he didn’t get any response, he turned to the camera. “ladies and gents, and johfam, our boy jae is finally crying in front of cameras.”

“shut up.” jaehyun butt back, his nose pink and his eyelashes were slight wet. “you’re here.” he hugged you again like how a koala would do.

you held his hand and intertwined them with yours. “yeah, i’m here- oh wow you’re shaking.”

jaehyun’s chin rested on top of your head, his dimples deepening as he gave the same smile whenever he’d facetime you. “i thought you had a meeting with another channel?” he asked, swaying you from side to side as you all came out of the recording booth.

lunch then was placed on the table, you sat amongst them, they dug in like they haven’t eaten good food. “i did. the channel’s called johnny’s communication center.”

the said boy gave you a wink and jaehyun caressed his neck in bewilderment. “hyung, you were part of this?”

“maybe, maybe not.” he popped a kimbap into his mouth, savouring the flavours. “i picked her up at the airport and the boys knew it all along.” he said, later noticing jaehyun’s attention was full onto you. he nudged the others to give you both space and left with their fair share of the food.

jaehyun rubbed circles at your back, he loved keeping you close. the smile never left his face and his ears went to a deeper red. “you planned all this for me?”

“because i missed you a lot more than you think.” you poked his dimples that he smiled widely than before.

“i missed you too.” he stared into you. “when are you leaving though?”

a chuckle of faux disbelief escaped your lips. “yuno, i just got here and you’re asking me when i’ll leave?”

he brought your hand up for a small kiss. “i’m asking because i don’t want you to, y/n. just stay with me.” his voice practically begging you, and you softened your gaze at him, wanting the same as well.

“i don’t know when i’ll see you next..” he trailed off as you wait for his response. “..i meant that in person.”

you inclined yourself to him and hugged him tighter. “let’s think of that later. we can make arrangements. all that matters is i’m here right now.” you giggled with pressed lips.

jaehyun stared down at you, leaning in for your first kiss. “gosh i love you so much.”

#nct 127 #nct jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun au #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun oneshot #nct yoonoh #yuno #jaehyun nct #jung yoonoh #jeong yuno #jeong jaehyun

[oncexinxmyxdreams]

First Impressions

“Didn’t your mom teach you not to play with your food?” Peter wryly commented.

“Examining fungi is not playing with food,” Egon stated as he picked another mushroom from the noodles. He put it into a small jar.  

Peter rolled his eyes and took another sip from the glass bottle. The earthy vanilla flavor of root beer was a sweet change from the liquor he usually sneaked around in his pocket. With how slow Egon was taking with finishing his lunch, Peter knew they wouldn’t be leaving soon. He slumped back into the booth and eyed his surroundings. It was more interesting than watching Egon perform surgery over his pasta. (No doubt, he’d ordered it because it had mushrooms in the sauce.)  

The small restaurant had the familiar red walls, dark green upholstery and stained carpeted floors. Waitresses were bustling around with their trays stacked with water and breadsticks. It was warm inside with the savory scent of different Italian food which was comforting for Peter. It reminded him of his mother when she made different pastas for Saturday dinners; usually for the two of them.

“What did you get for Ray?” asked Egon. Now he was eating. Ray kept missing his usual eating out with his two close friends for over a week. He’d spent his spare time searching for a particular book in different libraries around New York City.  

“His fourth favorite dish from here,” Peter said as he pushed his plate aside.

“Chicken marsala,” Egon said half to himself. The take out box was near his side of the table and he opened it with interest.

“Don’t think about it,” said Peter. He reached over and snapped the lid closed. “You’ve collected enough fungus for today.” He scooted the box closer to his side.  

“I wasn’t going to take any,” protested Egon though his tone hardly changed. “Curiosity is just another-Peter?  Peter!” He noticed his friend suddenly wasn’t listening to him. No surprise, a woman had just passed them.

“Wow,” Peter murmured to himself with a dazed, love sick expression.

The lady that passed them wore a cyan blue dress with an A-line skirt and a black belt which emphasized her hourglass figure. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled into a low bun with simple hoop earrings. Even though Peter only got a glimpse of her face, he noticed her profile; like the classic beauty an old Hollywood starlet.

The lady made her way to an empty table and sat down, her back facing them. Just when Peter had started to rise up and make his way over to her, a man came up and sat with her. He had a navy blue suit and plastered blonde hair. Peter sank back. Of course she’d already have a boyfriend. Well, it certainly wouldn’t take too long to notice another lovely woman…or so he thought.

It was almost frustrating throughout the afternoon that he couldn’t stop thinking of her. It’d only been twice when after seeing an interesting lady that he couldn’t shake the image out of his mind. It looked like she’d be the third. Give it until tomorrow and things would be back to normal again.

Things calmed down into the early evening. Since Egon had already graduated with two PhDs in Applied Physics and Parapsychology he was working for Columbia in paranormal experiences. Though he had an incredibly high IQ and graduated quicker than an average student would, some professors found his work questionable. (He and Peter had to meet with one of the departments earlier that day because they had inquiries for his projects.) He worked in the Paranormal Studies Laboratory in Weaver Hall with his name printed on the glass door. It appeared more as a basement than an official lab with the sparse lighting and stale scent. Since Ray and Peter were attending Columbia, even though it was currently June, they made themselves at home. Anyone who knew Egon would be aware that he didn’t read Captain Steel comic books or have a full body poster of Marilyn Monroe. Besides, there was promise that if all went well they could work along with Egon after getting their doctorates in Parapsychology.  

Egon and Ray were spending their evening looking over notes for some prototype they wanted to build. Peter ignored their technical talk and with feet propped on his desk, read the newspaper. He skipped the boring columns of economics and went straight to the sports section. He took off his tie and tossed it to the desk where he left his blazer. He was vaguely aware of the soft knock on the office door and Ray’s quick footsteps to answer.    

“Oh hi Claire,” said Ray being his usual friendly self. “Come on in.”  

“I found the book,” said a voice with some triumph. “I was having lunch with one of my co-workers and he said he just returned this to the library. I thought I’d check it out for you.”  

“Gee thanks,” Ray said taking the thickly bound book. “I was worried I’d be waiting two weeks and-Oh! Sorry! Where are my manners? Hey guys. This is Claire Teague. She’s the one I met at the library. Claire, these are my good friends. That’s Egon and Peter’s hiding behind the newspaper.”

Right on cue, Peter’s eyes lazily looked over his newspaper and his heart skipped several beats! Be it fate, luck or even a miracle, there she was! No mistaking it, the same lady from the restaurant was there in Weaver Hall. Having heard that she was with a co-worker and not a boyfriend made Peter all the more pleased. Egon took little notice, but Peter scrambled from his chair, newspaper tumbling to the floor and turned on his charm.  

“Well hello,” Peter said smoothly. He leaned against the bookshelf, chin resting on his palm and eyes gazing into hers. “I’m Peter Venkman-uh, soon to be Dr. Peter Venkman.”

“Hi,” Claire said politely. She turned back to Ray and stepped closer to him. “So are you finally going to tell me why you were looking for this book?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain,” continued Ray as he flipped to the first page with interest.  

“Tell me” said Claire with a smile. “You said you’re earning a doctorate in...you said, Parapsychology?”  

Peter tuned out Ray’s explanation as he leaned back against the bookshelf and took in Claire’s beauty. She was a perfect combination of actresses he liked: The smile of Michelle Pfeiffer: the soft round face Jessica Lange: the blue eyes and defined bow shaped lips of Grace Kelly: the classic hourglass figure of Marilyn Monroe. He could say perhaps even tad more voluptuous since she wasn’t as thin as a rail.  When Claire sat in one of the metal chairs next to Ray, she crossed her shapely legs.

“Gorgeous,” Peter thought. He really hoped she was single. No chance Ray was dating her since he had just been asked out by another classmate. He’d been so wrapped into his thoughts that he didn’t hear Ray’s conversation end. It hadn’t been long, probably two minute. Claire looked at Peter and then back to his desk.  

“What about you?” Claire said to him. “You’ve got some type of box on your desk.”  

“You don’t want to know,” Egon said with some disdain.

“Have you ever heard of the ESP test?” Peter said giving his friendly tone.

“No,” Claire simply said with a head shake.  

“It stands for extra sensory perception,” Peter continued. “Guess you could say it’s to figure out if you have a sixth sense and the test is based off of the psychologist Karl Zener.”

“What exactly are you testing?” Claire actually seemed curious.

“I’m examining the negative reinforcement of the ESP test with electrodes,” Peter simply answered.  

“Not even scientific,” Egon muttered.

“How does that work?” Claire asked.

“Easy,” Peter explained since he thought he was gaining her attention. For full effect, he leaned over his desk and started shuffling some of the Zener cards. “Every card has a symbol on the back and-”

“There’s nothing scientific about it,” interjected Egon. He didn’t turn his back around from his project. “It’s chance! Each card has a plus sign, star, square, circle or wavy lines. You just keep randomly guessing to see if you get one right. It’s been discredited for clairvoyance!”

“Isn’t he cute?” Peter smirked. “Doesn’t have a doctorate in Psychology and he thinks he knows everything.”  

“It’s not a bad idea,” said Ray who was trying to keep the peace. “Maybe if Karl Zener had just done more experiments it could’ve been credible.”    

“I suppose that’s what Mr. Venkman is trying prove,” said Claire. “It just needs more testing and it could be a success that even this Zener couldn’t achieve.” She stepped a little closer to Peter. “Maybe you just need the right people to test it.”

“Funny you should say,” Peter said stepping closer to her. “I had one ditch a session tomorrow.”

“She freaked out when you told her about being hooked up for electric shocks,” protested Ray.

“She had another engagement Ray,” corrected Peter almost through his teeth. He wasn’t keen on Ray ruining his moment. He gazed back into Claire’s eyes, getting lost in the shades of blue. “If you’re interested in how the Zener test works, how about you be a test subject? I bet you’re one of the smartest ladies around; you could guess those cards so easily that you wouldn’t even get the tiniest shock.”    

“I have a high threshold for pain,” Claire said after a pause. “I could be a test subject if it’s after my work. I get off at five-thirty.”

“It’d be a pleasure Miss Teague,” Peter responded. “An absolute pleasure. Six-ish work for you?”

“That’d be nice.” Claire walked around him for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Let me know when you’re ready to check the book back in Ray. Goodbye.”

Right after she left, Egon muttered something and scribbled another formula for the prototype. Peter playfully slapped Ray on the shoulder.

“What?” asked Ray innocently.  

“When you said you met some girl at the library you didn’t say she was a bombshell,” teased Peter.

“I told you her name,” said Ray. “We were just in the history section and I accidentally bumped into her.”

“She doesn’t seem to have the same interest as you,” Egon said who couldn’t help overhearing a little.

“Well no,” admitted Ray with a shrug. “She loves history and I was looking for that book about ghost sightings during America’s earliest years. So she said she’d keep an eye for it and I told where I’m at if she finds it. Nothing to it. It’s not like I was going to date her.”

“Did she mention being single?” Peter asked eagerly.

“I think she is.” Ray scratched his head in thought. He noticed the gleam in Peter’s eyes. “Oh come on Peter! Don’t tell me you’re going to ask her out after the ESP test.”

“Very good Ray,” joked Peter. “You catch on fast. You should’ve seen the look in her eyes when she said she’d volunteer. That’s the look of a woman who’s fallen under the Venkman charm.”  

It would work out perfectly. Claire would get all the right cards; she’d be smitten by Peter’s “encouragement” to guess correctly and then a date. Who knew, maybe something extra later in the night? She seemed self-confident to have hinted being a volunteer. Peter already liked that. She didn’t give off too much personality other than the first things he usually noticed in a lady; that being pretty and nice. Either way, the usual plan was already up and running.  

 (Author’s Note: Finally! First ficlet up! BTW, you better be hearing Lorenzo Music’s voice when reading Peter’s lines here. 😉 Props to Spengs0 for suggesting Paire as a shipping name. 

#the real ghostbusters #fanfic #fanfiction #peter venkman #ray stantz #egon spengler #claire teague #OC #RGB: First Impressions #rgb fic

[gaycrouton]

Since you already told me you have an idea for this, I need to read the “Mulder accidentally takes Viagra and Dr. Scully needs to help” fic pretty please! The hotter the better of course.

HEY BOO! Guess who finally got around to finishing it! I’ve had this idea for so long it’s ridiculous, and not to toot my own horn…but it’s really hot. It ended up being super long so I’m going to split it up in two parts while the latter half is in beta. Part two will probably be up in the next few days!

As always, thank you to @admiralty-xfd for her beta and her endless support.

Clinical Detatchment

msr / s7 / UST to RST

To say this case had been stressful would be a colossal understatement. They’d been clashing with the police department since they got here; they were flagrantly sexist and rude to Scully and they thought Mulder was insane and, in their words, ‘a pussy’ for listening to her. To top it all off, after a week of intensive searching, the case ended with the police burning down the barn that the ‘creature’ they’d been looking for had been lurking in resulting in a pile of ashes and some unidentifiable bones, much to Mulder’s irritation.

She couldn’t even take joy in the fact that the case was over. After the barn burning, they had to go to the police station to give a final statement and, aside from being offered coffee which Mulder had all but devoured, the police were outright disrespectful. Not that Mulder wasn’t acting similarly to them, after he’d downed the drink he’d talked separately with the officers before storming out of the office, telling her they “were leaving, now.”

She didn’t know what they’d said to him that’d offended him to this point, but she knew something was off.

Now she was at the shitty restaurant attached to their motel, sitting across from Mulder who seemed to be in one of his moods. As soon as they’d gotten there he’d stormed ahead of her, not bothering to hold the door open or even see if she was following him. It wouldn’t be strange if it weren’t for his usual tendencies to be a gentleman, but now it just seemed passive aggressive. All in all, a shitty day.

He’d been quiet since they left and when she asked him anything he’d just give her short answers. For some reason it felt like he couldn’t even look at her. She could only take so much before she called him out. “Mulder, have I done something to piss you off?”

He stopped playing with his glass of water and looked at her timidly before looking away, pretending to find interest in the food that remained practically untouched in front of him. “No,” he muttered.

“Are you sure?” she asked, impatience coming through despite herself.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

She let out an irritated sigh and slouched into her seat. Her movement resulted in her leg grazing Mulder’s and it caused him to jump away from her like she’d burned him. “Are you kidding me?” she snapped.

“I’m-”

“Mulder, I’ve had to deal with people treating me like shit this entire case. I really don’t need it from you too,” she lamented.

Finally he looked at her and she started to feel a little guilty for lashing out. In this moment, looking at him face to face, she realized he looked ill. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes were glassy, and she could see sweat gathering on his brow. “Scully, I’m sorry. I’m not mad. I don’t mean to be short, I just- I don’t feel good.”

“No, I shouldn’t have snapped. I didn’t realize you were sick,” she apologized.

“I think just the stress of the case finally caught up to me,” he shrugged.

She slid out of her side of the booth and moved to sit next to him. “I-I’m sure I’m fine though, Scully,” he stammered, sliding away from her.

“Mulder, you don’t look fine,” she admonished, reaching for his face. She put the back of her hands on his cheeks and forehead and frowned when she felt how hot he was. “You’re burning up.”

He swerved his head, effectively moving out of her hands, and hunched over. “It’s probably just a passing bug, Scully. I promise I’m fine,” he rambled. 

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. This wasn’t like Mulder to be so unreceptive to her medical attention. She gave him another once over and realized how abnormal his posture was. “Mulder, why are you sitting like that?”

“Scully,” he stated firmly. “I’m fine.”

“If you’re fine then sit up,” she countered.

“I don’t want to,” he whined with near exasperation. 

He looked like he was grabbing his sides while curling in on himself.

“Do you have pain in your abdomen?” she asked. Appendicitis? Stomach flu? Hernia? IBS?

“No,” he muttered childishly, avoiding eye contact.

“How long have you been feeling ill?”

“Please, drop it,” he pled.

Suddenly, testing him, she reached out and grabbed the arm nearest to her, pulling it away from his body. He let out a hissing sound between clenched teeth, his whole body lurching before he moved away from her. “Mulder, you’re obviously in pain. Stop trying to hide it.”

“Scully, please leave me alone,” he begged. “And please stop touching me so much.”

The intensity of his request hurt her feelings, but she tried her best to keep it from showing. Part of her thought about giving up and meeting him with equal stubbornness, but it’d felt like they’d been getting closer as of late and the harsh rejection stung more than she wished it had. “Why won’t you let me help you?” she asked softly.

He must’ve heard the hurt despite her efforts and he turned to look at her. When he did this, she noticed his eyes were unnaturally dilated and her concern grew even more. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he pressed.

She might’ve given up, but this case had been taxing on them both and she knew he had a tendency to forgo taking care of himself in the midst of a stressful investigation. “Mulder,” she rolled her eyes, grabbing at him again. “Please just let me give you a quick examination to see if anything’s alarming.” She put her hand on his thigh and he gasped ‘fuck’ before grabbing her wrist harshly, causing her to let out a little gasp of surprise.

He winced and was silent a moment before whispering, “It’s embarrassing.”

“What is?” she asked.

With some strain, he sat up straight and let go of her wrist, taking the other off his lap to reveal an impressive erection straining against his dress pants, tenting the material away from his lap. He gestured to it in aggravation as if it needed any sort of introduction.

She looked at it, he looked at it, he looked at her, she kept looking at it. 

“Oh,” she squeaked, removing her hand from his thigh but not leaving that side of the booth.

“I-” he mumbled,  covering up again as she struggled to tear her gaze away.

She interrupted him with a raised hand. “It’s fine, Mulder. I know it happens. It doesn’t bother me. I’m sorry I embarrassed you-you shouldn’t be embarrassed,” she rushed, her sentences choppy in her own mortification at bringing attention to it. 

She wasn’t lying - she knew it happened quite frequently, just never to this extent. Usually he adjusted it, calmed down, or left the room by the time the slight hardening in his pants turned into anything that he’d think she noticed. She figured Mulder thought he was being discreet, or maybe he assumed she never glanced at that area of his body, but she noticed enough to know that Mulder was a very healthy man.

It sometimes became a game to her: determining what the cause of any given erection was. Sometimes she thought it happened when the wind blew too hard, it seemed to happen so easily. But slowly, this time, she realized she seemingly had a role in it. All too often it seemed he needed to readjust or take a deep breath or leave immediately following something she’d done. Like a cause and effect but the causes were things she thought were mundane, like standing near him, smiling, laughing, touching, sometimes just looking at him. 

She’d just never called him out on it.

“No, Sc-wait. What do you mean you know it happens?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

“I just-it’s a natural bodily occurrence,” she explained, subverting her true meaning.

They locked eyes for a moment, both fully aware she wasn’t convincing enough, but luckily he chose to move on. “They, um, they slipped me something,” he mumbled.

He shifted in his seat and her gaze flitted down to the area in question, a glance that didn’t go unnoticed by Mulder who started unconsciously bending forward again to hide himself. Feeling a surge of embarrassment for her unabashed ogling, she cleared her throat and registered his words. “Wait, who slipped you what?”

“Sheriff Flannery and his merry band of misfits, they said they gave me viagra,” he murmured the last part so softly that she’d barely heard him.

For a moment she was sure she’d heard him wrong, but he was wearing his earnestness on his face and she knew he was telling the truth.“Why on earth would they do that? Not to mention the fact that’s extremely illegal,” she balked.

He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “They said it was so I could ‘man up’,” he admitted. She was about to make a comment about how ridiculous that was, but he spoke up before she could. “Apparently they had some viagra in the back from some guy who retired, yadda yadda yadda, but they slipped it into my coffee while we were in the hallway talking.” 

As he said this, she unconsciously licked her lips and his gaze flickered to the motion immediately before his eyes shot back to the opposite side of the booth while his nostrils flared and he shifted his hips. It was a motion she found undeniably attractive.

“How much did they give you?” she asked, her attention snapping back to the matter at hand.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged.

“How long have you been erect?” she asked, cringing and looking around when she realized her volume.

Mulder did a look around as well and sighed in relief when no one was eavesdropping on them. “Um, I don’t know, maybe two hours.”

“Have you tried…” she made an odd gesture with her lap with her hands as he stared at her with raised eyebrows.

“Did it look like I tried the past two hours we’ve been together?” he asked sarcastically before immediately apologizing. “I’m sorry, this is just the icing on a shit day.”

“It worries me that we don’t know the dosage,” she confided, stopping altogether when the waitress came by to take their plates and drop off the check. Neither of them missed the skeptical once over she gave them for being huddled together on the same side of the booth like teenagers.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Scully resumed, “I’m worried they gave you too much.”

“I’m sure it’ll go away when we get back to the motel room.” Catching himself, he clarified, “When I get back to my motel room. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

“Unless it doesn’t go away in the next two hours,” she added, getting out her wallet and laying cash down on the table for the bill and the tip.

“W-what do you mean?” he croaked.

She looked at him with a skeptical brow as if to say ‘you don’t know’ to which his visible gulp replied ‘oh god what?’

“Do you know why Viagra commercials warn against erections lasting longer than four hours?” she asked, stuffing her wallet back into her purse.

“Lightheadedness…” he answered with timidity that told her he knew his answer would be wrong.

“No, do you know what priapism is?” she asked.

“No,” he admitted.

“There are different types, and I won’t go into full detail, but in bad cases the blood trapped in the penis is deprived of oxygen. Erections that last too long can cause the oxygen-poor blood to begin to damage or destroy tissues in the penis,” she explained.

“Destroy?” he repeated.

“Some untreated priapisms can cause erectile dysfunction.”

She might as well have told him he had two hours to live with the look of panic that came across his face. “W-what do I need to do?” he stammered.

“Let’s go back to your room so we can assess the situation,” she stated, trying to sound calm. 

She slid out of the booth, but as she was about to walk away, she felt a hand grab her wrist. “Wait,” he whispered.

She turned and saw him scooting closer to the edge of, but not coming out of, the seat. He glanced around before looking at her nervously. “There are people here,” he told her in a low voice.

She looked around and saw the once empty restaurant was bustling with customers. “But we have to go, Mulder,” she whispered back, not wanting to cause him further embarrassment but not seeing a wormhole for him to crawl into opening up anytime soon.

“Can you walk right in front of me to hide it?” he asked. Mulder usually didn’t care what people thought of him, but he did care when across the room was a children’s birthday party. 

With a sigh of resignation, she nodded and turned around in place as he stood up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders to keep her in front of him. There was space between them, but barely. They were both walking as briskly as they could, but she could feel the warmth of him radiating on her back.

Then, unexpectedly, a waitress passed in front of Scully’s path with a quick “Sorry, coming through,” and the motion caused Scully to stop in her tracks. Which, of course, resulted in Mulder crashing into her and jabbing his hard on straight into her back. She gasped and he squeezed her shoulders tightly and  let out a soft, strangled moan, causing a few patrons to abandon their food to glance up at the pair.

“I’m sorry,” Scully whispered breathlessly. Whether to the interrupted customers having to witness their misfortune, or to Mulder for stopping so suddenly, she wasn’t sure. All she knew as she continued moving forward was that Mulder’s cock had just touched her. It wasn’t skin against skin, wasn’t intimate in any real sense, but her partner’s penis had touched her and it was hot, hard, and he moaned. 

And fuck if it didn’t turn her on.

As soon as they were out of the eyeline of the prying customers and halfway across the gravel parking lot to their rooms, she took a quick step forward, consequently freeing herself from his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Mulder lamented immediately. Truth be told, she didn’t need to be so dramatic with her movement, but she’d rather have him think she was frustrated with him than realize she was getting flustered. But she regretted her action at the absolute guilt that was evident in his tone.

She turned to look over at him and took pity on the sight of a dejected Mulder crossing his hands in front of his pants. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pull away so abruptly. Let’s just get to your room.”

She stood by his side and didn’t say anything more as Mulder unlocked the door and let her in. They’d only been there a few days, but Mulder had sprawled all his stuff about and made himself at home. She heard the lock snick behind her, and putting on an air of complete professionalism, she turned around and faced him. “Okay, let’s take a look.”

He still hadn’t moved more than a foot from the door, the only signs of life were the widening of his eyes and his stammering. “I-I don’t, I can’t-”.

Well, if he was going to be like that. “One of the methods of curing a priapism is to make an incision-”

“Scull-ee,” he whined, his brows furrowing in distress.

“Mulder, I saw more penises in med school than the actresses in all your tapes combined,” she deadpanned.

“But this is different,” he explained, not elaborating beyond that.

He was right. It was different. She’d seen it before, but it was usually a brief glimpse in the midst of dressing  him because of another injury, never was it the main focus of an examination. That, plus the issue that it would be erect and she’d most likely have to come in contact with it for a full examination.

Letting out a long sigh and cursing the fact that nothing in their lives could be easy, she ran her hands over her face and offered, “You’re right. You’re right. Um, how about you go into the bathroom and take a look. Let me know if anything looks abnormal.”

He seemed relieved at that prospect and did as directed, making his way to the bathroom and quickly shutting the door as if to get out of her line of sight. She listened from the other side of the door as the teeth of his zipper came apart and his pants dropped down to the floor. He coughed nervously and called out, “Okay, uh, it’s-it’s out,” he stammered.

There were a few moments in her life, specifically since her time with him, where she couldn’t help but be shocked at where she’d ended up. This was one of those moments.

“How does it look?” she asked.

“Um,” he paused. “Normal?”

“Does it look different than when you’re usually erect?” she asked, rolling her eyes.

“What do you mean?” he called out.

“Is it swollen or red?” she explained, images from med school textbooks dancing around in her head. 

There was a pause and she realized he was misinterpreting her. With a sigh, she added, “More so than normal?”

“N-no, I think it looks normal, but I’ve never had one for this long and it kinda aches,” he explained. She frowned, she didn’t know what to do when half of that information was comforting and the other half was cause for concern. 

“This isn’t working,” she called out. In what world could a doctor assess a patient with a blindfold on? Rarely were patient assessments ever accurate in the first place, let alone when they were in distress. 

“Do you have to?” he sighed in acquiescence.

“Mulder, just let me look. I just want to help,” she reassured, trying to take a gentler approach.

She heard some more sounds of fabric rustling and realised he was stepping out of his pants and shoes. Soon enough, she heard the door unlock and saw a tuft of brown hair and hazel eyes peer from the side of the door. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he joked lamely, trying to lighten the mood and his own discomfort.

She rolled her eyes and gave him a small smirk. “If I ever need an emergency medical exam, I’ll make sure you’re the first person I call.”

“Is that a promise?” he asked, taking a step out and revealing he’d also removed his dress shirt, leaving him in his t-shirt shirt and boxers as he continued to cover himself with a hand towel.

She took a few steps towards him to meet him halfway and the room became tense again, neither of them speaking for a moment as the awkwardness overtook them. “I promise to be clinically detached,” she blurted out. “I know this is uncomfortable, but as soon as it’s taken care of, I promise we can pretend this never happened.”

He let out a long, reluctant sigh and nodded, “Okay. Thank you.”

“Sit on the bed,” she commanded.

He teased her about her bedside manner, but they walked back into the bedroom and he did as she asked anyway. He only started making a fuss again when she began to get closer.

“Wh-what are you doing?” he asked, scooting away from her as she started easing herself down on her knees in front of him.

“I’m looking, Mulder…” she trailed off. Surely he didn’t think she was going to…

“I-but-can you,” he stammered never fully forming a single one of the thousand thoughts swirling behind his eyes right now.

“Mulder, are you genuinely confused or just stammering? I don’t mean to be blunt, but in this situation, the difference matters,” she sighed, righting herself to look at him. Faltering memory. Confusion. Slurred or stammered speech.

“Scully, this is embarrassing,” he whined, so pathetically that her heart went out to him.

But time was of the essence, and they were running out of it. “Fine,” she stated sternly, pretending to grab her bag. “We’ll just have to go to the hospital then.”

“No!” he called out, and if she identified the sound correctly, he even stamped a foot.

She turned around to face him again and demanded. “You’re going to have to be honest with me or we will be going, okay?”

He was giving her puppy dog eyes right now and she had to bite back a smile at the juxtaposition. He looked like a kicked dog, yet was sporting a massive erection. Mulder pulled her out of her thought process by his mumbling something, but doing it under his breath so that she couldn’t hear. “What was that?”

“I don’t want to accidentally come in front of you… or on you,” he muttered. 

This is my life. My partner just said those words out loud to me. She was at such a loss for words that he took it as her not understanding. “I just-I’m afraid seeing you, um, like that-” On your knees.

She held up her hand to stop him from saying anymore. “Lay back and close your eyes or look at the ceiling.” He nodded and lowered himself slowly onto his back, letting out a tense sigh. She wished she had those hanging mobiles like they do at the OBGYN, but he instead just raised his forearms to cover his eyes and she took that as a sign she was good to go. 

Without his prying eyes on her, she mouthed a silent fuck to herself as she lowered herself on her knees and in between his legs, giving her a better vantage point to see. The hand towel didn’t do much to cover, but it was enough for her to be nervous about removing it entirely.  No going back now.

She cleared her throat and decided to be as Dr. Scully as she possibly could. “I’m going to remove the towel.” 

There were no words of affirmation or recognition, but she knew he heard. He was probably just trying to mentally dig a hole to crawl into. With her index finger and thumb, she grabbed the corner of the towel and lifted it off, setting it down gently at his side. Her thoughts were as follows:

Mulder is hung.

How does he walk around with this?

It’s amazing how humble he is for how cocky he easily could be.

My face is a few inches from Mulder’s leaking cock.

“Does it look like a pr-prasi-”

“A priapism,” she clarified. She looked at the pink swollen phallus and didn’t immediately see any of the usual red flags. “No visual indicators.” Dr. Scully left for a moment as Flustered Dana mentally screamed, but she stifled her hesitation and confidently said, “Is it alright if I touch it for a physical exam?”

He was silent and, unlike last time, she couldn’t continue without his permission. She sat there, his penis hard as a rock in front of her face, as he contemplated his fate. Then, she heard a softly muttered, “Okay.”

Being as delicate as she could, she scooted closer, her forearm grazing the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. He jumped like she’d shocked him and she breathed out an apology and continued to lift her hands, gently grabbing the shaft with the tips of her fingers. 

She ducked her head slightly to look at the scrotum and noticed nothing looked out of the ordinary. Just perfectly dropped, engorged, healthy balls. She righted herself and tested the skin’s give by tugging down lightly with her fingers on his shaft, dragging the skin down and revealing more of  his head, and she was relieved to see there was some movement. So he’s not swollen to the point of danger. 

As she conducted her test he took a sharp, shaky inhalation between clenched teeth. Risking a glance over to him, she saw his arms still firmly planted against his face, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. “Um-” she spoke, not even sure what she was about to say, just wanting to break the silence. “Does being touched hurt?” she asked, settling on a perfectly analytical question.

She saw him swallow thickly before answering in a husky voice that shot straight to her core, “No.” 

He didn’t offer any more information and she figured he was trying to spare his pride. Using her fingers as delicately as she could, she moved it around from side to side just to check mobility, but her motion apparently wasn’t as delicate as she’d intended. He lurched away from her, his erection going out of her grasp and bobbing violently in the air at his harsh jerk. “Okay, that was a little rough, Scully.”

“Sorry,” she exhaled before taking the cloth and covering him. At the unexpected sensation, he concaved his hips into the bed and released his arms to look down at her before immediately subverting his eyes. 

Using his knees as leverage, she stood up and cleared her throat, taking in the sight of Mulder actually blushing and wishing it wasn’t such an uncomfortable situation. 

His attention was drawn by her near-declarative cough and he glanced back at her as he eased himself up on his elbows. Now it was her turn to look away. There was something incredibly sexy about a casually reclined Mulder with an erection while she apparently possessed the ability to arouse him.

“It doesn’t look dangerous right now, but that doesn’t mean you’re out of the woods yet. I want you to, um, take care of it and then tell me if the swelling starts to go down,” she explained.

“What happens if I can’t?” he asked nervously.

“I thought you were well versed in that arena,” she teased before seeing the look of panic in his eyes. “Mulder, I’m sure this will all blow over. People snort cocaine and have had two hour long erections like this and they live. Let’s focus on the positive. If you can’t, we can always go to the hospital,” she comforted. Correction- she tried to comfort. She said the H word again and she could see the worry brewing in his eyes.

“Don’t think about it, just think about - whatever it is you normally think about,” she stammered, moving towards the adjoining door. “I’ll be next door if you need me.” Then, at his raised brows, she added, “If you have a medical question or um, you know.” Putting herself out of her misery, she walked into her room and shut the door.

#gaycrouton #my fanfiction #x files fanfic #mulder #scully #msr #smut

[mithranqueersmusings]

Before This Dance Is Through II

Chapter: 2/16

Rating: T

Summary: Ringo's being going through a dry spell for the last year or so and when he regretfully tells his best friend John, he insists on taking them to an all-male strip club for some "fun". Ringo isn't sure whether it's the alcohol, his desperation or a mixture of the two but he thinks he might be falling in love with a stripper.

Tags: AU - Strippers, Modern Setting, Smut, Slow Burn

Pairings: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

Ringo was just about to get into bed when a notification rang out from his phone, it was charging on the other side of the room because that was the only way he could get himself out of bed in the morning. It was almost 2 o'clock in the morning which meant the text could only be from one person.

        you up???

This was far from the first of these texts that Ringo had received from John, they were almost a weekly occurrence by this point but more often than not Ringo had already fallen asleep.

        was just about to go to bed. why?

        do you have work tomorrow????

        not until 12         do you?

        fuck off

John was a writer, a poet more than anything, which meant that he was always working which really meant that he was never working. Ringo was a drum teacher, had been for almost 7 years at this point, which wasn't as exciting as it sounded; he mostly worked for rich families who had a child who was trying to do something edgy or was brought into schools for one of those strange activity days. Drumming was Ringo's passion and while he was glad that he was able to earn money doing something he loved, he dearly wished he was able to drum for himself rather than spending several hours a week just trying to get a kid to hold the sticks correctly.

        i was about to take a little ride down the helter skelter         care to join me ;)

Ringo stared down at his phone for a moment. It had been over a week since John had dragged him out to that strip club, and while he'd like to say that he'd forgotten about the whole thing it was far from the truth. The sight of Spike dancing on that stage had plagued his memory almost every night since, leading to more than one occasion of late-night indulgence. Ringo had felt guilty touching himself thinking about the other man, but he couldn't pinpoint the reason; he supposed it must've been the guilt he'd felt when watching him dance, and the shame that followed from having to run away into the bathroom like a scared, little kid. His thumbs were frozen in place hovering above his phone screen while his mind was racing. The sensible part of his brain told him to just go to bed, if he indulged this desire tonight it would make the last time more than a one-off and he wasn't sure he was prepared to accept that. Yet the deeper part of his mind, the one he often tried to ignore, urged him to go back just for the opportunity to see Spike again - after all, the current wank material he was providing was getting a little stale.

        have you fallen asleep you twat

        no no im still here

        well do you wanna come or not?? i can pick you up

        are you sober?

        mostly

        mostly?

        fuck sake         ARE YOU COMING OR NOT

        fine         but ill drive

        whatever makes you happy

As much as he wouldn't like to admit it, Ringo spent a ridiculous amount of time - by his standards - choosing what to wear. Even though he knew the club was dangerously dark, and even though what he wore shouldn't really matter, that voice in the back of his mind told him to look nice for him. For the stripper he'd seen for about 5 minutes, the stripper whose real name he didn't even know, who probably didn't even remember Ringo in the slightest. He'd tried his best to not read too far into the obsession his brain seemed to have with Spike - trying to separate himself from his thoughts as though they were two separate beings had been a vital step in this - but as he stood in front of his mirror comparing two near identical jumpers, he supposed he wasn't going to be able to ignore it for much longer. His heart even felt heavy at the thought that Spike might be working tonight; he couldn't tell if it was just a strange fixation that his desperation had conjured up but the only thing he knew for certain was that he wanted to see him again.

Ringo arrived at John's place later than he would've liked but when the front door was opened to revealed a very ruffled, very drunk man, Ringo figured John wouldn't have noticed how long he'd been.

"Mostly sober?" Ringo scoffed at the sight of him, his cheeks rosy and a satisfied smile spread across his lips.

"You're not my mum and you're not the police, so fuck off." John was leaning against the door-frame, Ringo supposed partly for support and partly to look cool.

It was a common occurrence for John to get like this, far more common than Ringo would've liked. John drank a lot, at first Ringo figured it was just something everyone did when they got old enough to drink with almost no consequences, then as it continued he tried to explain it away as just something artists did. Years had passed since Ringo had first noticed it and nothing had really changed, it had gotten worse if anything, but there was nothing he really felt he could do. He debated whether he should cancel the plan altogether, to insist that John stayed home and got some sleep, but things were never really that simple. He was almost certain that if he refused to drive them, John would only find another way. He'd tried multiple things over the years: dragging him along to AA meetings, swearing to give up alcohol alongside him, even refusing to hang out with him if he'd been drinking, but nothing seemed to work. John had been through a lot, still was going through a lot, so Ringo figured the best thing he could do was simply to be there for John, it was both the most and least he could do.

Before they headed out Ringo at least managed to convince John to eat some leftover Chinese food he had in the fridge in an attempt to soak up the alcohol somewhat - and to ensure he'd had at least one semi-decent meal that day. They then slid into Ringo's car, it was a little beaten up but it served its purpose, and drove off to the place Ringo was almost certain would be the death of him. It was a Saturday so unsurprisingly the club was a great deal busier than it had been last time, there were several small groups of people smoking outside, some of them clearly workers and how they weren't risking getting frostbite Ringo didn't know. Any hopes of John sobering up a little on the journey there were dashed when he immediately hurried over to the bar as soon as they walked in the door. Ringo tried to stick to his side as best he could, his nervousness from the first time felt like it had tripled with how busy the place was now, so he aimed to keep in John's gravitational pull as much as possible. The music seemed louder but Ringo was certain that was just his imagination. They had to elbow their way to the front of the bar just to get noticed, luckily John had no qualms doing it, which resulted in a few glares from the other customers.

With their drinks in hand they couldn't sit - or hide as Ringo saw it - at the bar like they had done last time, instead they moved further into the club in search for a place to sit. There was a booth near the bathroom that was empty, for obvious reasons, which Ringo pulled them towards desperately. Maybe this was a bad idea. What was he really expecting after all? At most he'd catch another glimpse of Spike, almost have a heart-attack then have to run home less than ten minutes later. Anxiety began nibbling away at his mind, it had a nasty habit of doing that, and the claustrophobic atmosphere wasn't helping. John seemed right at home, as he did almost anywhere, craning his neck between people in search for someone.

"Looking for your Paulie?" Ringo asked in an eager attempt to calm his nerves.

"He's hardly mine." John chuckled, not turning to look at Ringo but continuing his search "Might not even be working tonight."

"Don't you have like his schedule or something?" Ringo sipped his drink.

"That'd be making things a little too official. Not really my style." John sat back in his seat with a small huff, clearly he didn't find what he was looking for.

From where they were sitting they had a fairly obstructed view of the stage but from what little Ringo could gather he wasn't too interested: a muscular man dressed as a policeman was gradually getting undressed while making crude use of a prop baton.

"Any sign of your guy?" John shouted to be heard over the music and it made Ringo jump.

Ringo paused for a moment looking into John's eyes, he considered playing dumb but decided there was no use "Afraid not. Maybe he's not working tonight either."

"That'd be some rotten luck." John clicked his tongue in his mouth "Let's check the back."

"The back?" Ringo raised an eyebrow "That sounds unbelievably dodgy."

"It's not! Well..." John broke his sentence with a laugh "It's just where they do the more 'alternative' stuff, you know?"

"No I don't know, but I suppose I'm gonna find out." Ringo chuckled rather weakly.

John raised his glass in the air a little and Ringo clinked his own against it, they downed the remainder of their drinks and slammed the glasses down on the table unnecessarily hard. John then led them around the edge of the stage, they managed to get another drink at the second bar before they headed down a suspiciously narrow set of stairs which led to an even darker corridor. They then passed through a squeaky door into a small room, barely lit excluding a spotlight focused on a stage at the other end. There were several people scattered across the limited space, a few resting against a makeshift bar which consisted of planks of wood connected to the walls and the rest sat to face the stage.

And there he was. Spike was sat on a stool onstage with an acoustic guitar in his lap and absolutely nothing else. It wasn't a sight Ringo had been prepared for, as much as the erotic gyrating and tear-away clothing had been a shock to his system this was completely different.

Ringo stopped in his tracks when he computed the sight: his pale, lean body curled up around the guitar that he was playing beautifully. His hair wasn't coiffed this time, rather it fell down across his sharp face in waves with faint curls. John turned around when he'd noticed Ringo's absence beside him, a sly grin curled on his face as he grabbed Ringo's arm and pulled him down to the front where they sat.

"What did I tell you?" John whispered "Sexy art."

Spike didn't seem to notice them despite how close they were, he seemed completely immersed in the music he was playing. Ringo hadn't recognised the song at first, perhaps he'd been to busy focusing on other things, but now he could tell it was 'Heaven' by Talking Heads; he made a happy note in his mind that it seemed like the two of them had a somewhat similar music taste, although he couldn't really admit that such a thing shouldn't matter. Looking around at the other customers, it looked like they were mostly taking refuge from the chaos of the main room, many of them resting their heads against the bar for some comfort and the others bordering on unconscious.

Somehow this occasion made Ringo feel even more nervous, even though their previous encounter had been extremely closer and inherently sexual, it was more personal therefore way more uncomfortable. He could hear his voice now, another piece of the puzzle he was shamefully building in his mind, and it was beautiful. It was a little husky but still gentle, an accent poking through in places. Ringo could get a better look at his face now: the dark eyelashes, the hints of hair between his two eyebrows and sharp canine teeth protruding from his open mouth. His eyes focused on the slender fingers playing the guitar strings, veins showing underneath the skin. Ringo felt like he was watching something very private, as if Spike was completely unaware of everyone's presence and could see nothing but his guitar. A quick way to Ringo's heart was through music and it was looking like Spike had bought a first-class ticket.

Ringo hadn't even noticed that the song had ended at first, not until John began clapping and cheering loudly in his ear. Spike seemed similarly out of it, the sudden sound of John snapping his attention away from the music and he gave a small smile in response. They seemed like completely different people: the strutting, confident man from a week ago and the soft, vulnerable one in front of them now. Sparse claps followed shortly after John's, the lack of energy caused by alcohol wearing off was very evident.

"You're pretty good." John almost shouted, Ringo wasn't sure if it was because he was drunk or he still hadn't adjusted from the other room.

"Thanks." Spike replied, his fingers still wrapped around the neck of the guitar "Any requests?"

Ringo had thought his singing voice was beautiful, but the way he spoke somehow had even more of an effect on him. The accent was thicker now and judging by how such a small amount of words could excite him so much, Ringo knew he was in trouble.

"I dunno... What do you think Ringo?" John nudged his friend beside him, embarrassingly emphasising his name which just about managed to shake Ringo from the daze he was falling into.

"Oh, er-" Ringo stammered for a second, Spike looking right at him wasn't helping his nerves in the slightest "Know any Bob Dylan?"

Spike laughed at this and for a moment Ringo cursed himself but before he could chastise himself too harshly, Spike smiled again and spoke "He's one of my favourites."

John nudged Ringo again but he wasn't paying enough attention to him to get embarrassed. He was far too focused on how Spike's fingers began to play the guitar once more, the way his lips moved over his teeth and how his bare feet tapped against the footrest of the stool as he began singing 'Just Like a Woman'. Once again he seemed to disappear into the music which Ringo was very grateful for, for if his eyes began to wander and met his unfaltering gaze he was certain he wouldn't be able to take it. For the majority of the song Ringo had completely forgotten his surroundings, the faint pulse of the loud music from upstairs or the drooling men strewn about the room, he'd even forgotten that Spike was naked while he played. John seemed similarly impressed, although he was considerably more inebriated than Ringo was, and he could see John passing him a few sideways glances during the song.

When the song ended John enthusiastically applauded once more, Ringo followed suit with a slight delay as he found his mind shutting off everything around him. Spike looked down at the two of them with a smile, shuffled in the stool then stood up.

"Well that's all from me." He spoke "Thanks for listening." The words were directed purely at John and Ringo, while there were others who appeared to be barely listening in the back nobody else seemed to be paying much attention.

"Wait!" John called out, startling both Spike and Ringo "Are you done for the night?"

Spike chuckled softly "No, they're gonna close this room in a little bit though, so you might wanna clear out."

"Will you give my friend a private dance?" John asked and now it was Ringo's turn to nudge him.

"Not dressed like this I can't." Spike gestured with his free hand to his nakedness, his guitar was the only thing upholding his modesty.

Ringo was glaring at John now, who only gave him a quick glance before returning his attention back to Spike "How about we come find you upstairs in a few minutes?"

"Fine by me." Spike replied and turned his gaze to Ringo "But your friend doesn't seem too keen."

He didn't give either of them time to protest, which was probably for the best because Ringo was having trouble articulating any coherent thoughts, as he turned his back and walked off the stage. Ringo fought the urge to not look at his arse as he left, and failed entirely. John giggled at the sight which broke Ringo's absentmindedness. The nudge evolved into a harder shove which only intensified John's laughter.

"I hate you." Ringo hissed but he couldn't stop the laughter from breaking through.

"What did I do?" John held his hands up helplessly and Ringo gave him another shove which rocked the chair sideways.

A bouncer walked into the room at the moment, calling for everyone to head back upstairs; Ringo envied the unconscious drunkards that were unable to return to the main room. John's laughter didn't subside the entire time they made their way up the stairs, only being silenced when he took a sip of his newly ordered drink. The room had thinned out a little, Ringo supposed the closing of downstairs only signalled that most people were going to start heading home now, but there were clearly many people who were aiming to stay as long as they possibly could. They managed to get two seats at the bar which allowed Ringo to look amongst the crowd nervously for any sight of Spike.

"What are you so worried about?" John asked, leaning his elbow on the counter.

"Honestly I don't know." Ringo chuckled "It's a bit pathetic, huh?"

"You said it, not me." John grinned "No, no it's just strange. I know you're not the world's biggest slut but you're no prude either."

"I don't think it's a prude thing." Ringo suggested.

"Then what?" John pried, he ran his finger around the rim of his glass.

"It's just him." Ringo lowered his voice a little.

"Well shit. Ringo's in love with a stripper." John matched Ringo's volume but enunciated the words enough that he may as well have been shouting.

"Shut up." Ringo shook his head "You're one to talk."

"Don't bring Paulie into this, that's a strictly professional relationship." John pointed his finger in Ringo's face which made him laugh. "This isn't about me anyway, it's about you. I'm not leaving here until you get that dance."

"You might be waiting a while then." Ringo said a little sadly.

"Nope, I refuse. You'll thank me later, I swear to it." John had moved his hand to Ringo's shoulder now.

"I'm just scared." Ringo mumbled.

"Of what? Ringo, these people have put up with the weirdest, creepiest fucks you can imagine. He'll probably be over the moon that you don't look like you belong on a register." John shook Ringo lightly, forcing him to look up at him.

Ringo let out a huff "Fine, if it'll shut you up."

"Sure if that's the line you wanna go with." John chuckled "You want it Ringo, stop denying yourself the pleasure. Be more like me."

"I dunno if I wanna take it that far." Ringo looked out amongst the room again and caught sight of a familiar face.

John followed Ringo's line of sight and beamed when he spotted Spike "Come on then, time to pop your cherry."

"Please don't put it like that." Ringo rolled his eyes as John pulled him up from his seat.

It wasn't really nervousness he was feeling, it was difficult to pinpoint exactly what it was. Ringo knew that he if he didn't want to this then he didn't have to, it would've been as simple as that, but he did want to. It was probably exactly how much he wanted it that scared him. Like the feeling that happens right before getting up on stage or before revealing good news to a loved one: excitement so intense it can turn into sickness. And Ringo was excited; he was very, very excited.

#the beatles #beatles #beatles fanfic #the beatles fanfic #beatles fanfiction #george harrison/ringo starr #ringo starr/george harrison #ringo starrxgeorge harrison #george harrisonxringo starr #starrison

[spectralscathath]

Skinny Vanilla Latte

Mikaela is the world's nicest customer, and Yuu's heart absolutely Does Not go 'doki doki' whenever he comes into the cafe for his standard order. Anyone who says otherwise is entirely incorrect. (Mikayuu but Coffee Shop AU)

Commissioned Mikayuu oneshot for @fyrecrackeruwu

Ao3 link, ff.net link

“Peppermint mocha, extra whip, for Lacus!” Yuichiro called out, trying to remember his customer service smile even though he knew his eyes said ‘I’ll kill you’ to every person in the café. Narumi just had to go and get a new job, like the traitorous bitch he was. Being a lifeguard wasn’t even a real thing.

Narumi’s absence left the Moon Demon Café down a barista, and because Shinoa and Kimizuki were banned from interacting with the general public, Yuu had been the only one they could shunt from the kitchen into front of house.

Fuck this job. If he didn’t need it so badly he’d have tossed his apron in Guren’s stupid face to get rid of the shitsmug smirk.

“Hi, welcome to the Moon Demon Café,” he turned to the next customer. “What can I-” oh my god. Don’t pause keep talking. “… I get you today?”

Holy SHIT someone call Heaven because an angel had gone missing. Seriously, the customer standing on the other side of the counter was the prettiest guy Yuu had ever seen. Not to be corny on main, but this was the first time Yuu had ever thought ‘eyes like sapphires, hair like spun gold’ had ever felt like actually applicable metaphors for someone.

“A skinny vanilla latte, please?” Pretty Boy said with the utmost politeness, and Yuu remembered that breathing existed and so did brain functions.

“Of course, can I interest you in any of our specials today?” He put on his best grin, writing down the coffee.

“No thank you, just the coffee.” Pretty Boy kept smiling, already having his card ready to pay because clearly this guy was Mr Perfect Customer.

“Sure thing, can I get a name for this order?” He barely held back from tacking a pet name onto the end, but he managed. Someone get him a medal.

“Mikaela. Mika works though, please don’t try spell ‘Mikaela’.” Pretty Boy- Mika’s- smile became slightly glassy, with the wartorn eyes of someone who’d had consistent misspellings of their name throughout their life.

“Mika it is,” Yuu grinned at him and scrawled it down. “I’ll have that ready for you in a jiffy.” Why the fuck did he say ‘jiffy’.

Mikaela snorted, bringing a hand up to cover his smile. “Sure thing.”

Yuu smiled and started up the coffee grinder, his cheer instantly evaporating away when he heard the sound of an empty grinder. Where were the coffee beans kept again? Shinoa better not have moved their location to fuck with him.

“It’ll be just a sec,” he forced a grin at Mika, getting a shrug in return. Customer seemed chill, cool. He reached under the counter to find empty air, instantly ducking down to check. Nothing but coffee residue from the bags. Welp.

“Hey, Kimizuki?” He yelled at the back.

“What?!”

“Where’d the coffee get moved?”

“You think I know?! Figure it out yourself, dumbass! I’m cooking!”

Yuu’s eye twitched and he counted to ten in his head to prevent himself from leaping through the overpass to wring Kimizuki’s neck. “Of course,” he grumbled. “Let me just pull some coffee beans out of my ass, that’s how we run things here.”

There was a soft chuckle and Yuu blanched, realising that shitfuck his sarcastic grumbling might have been a little too audible. He whipped around. “Uh- sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

Mika hid his laughter behind his hand again, blue eyes glittering like sapphires. “No no, it’s fine. Don’t worry.”

Yuu relaxed a little bit, kinda starstruck by the mirthful twinkle in those eyes. “I’ll just find you the coffee, give me a moment.” He spun around, hunting through every cabinet he could until he managed to find a dark roast with ‘hi Yuu’ scrawled on it in purple glittery ink. Shinoa and her fucking gel pens.

He started making the coffee properly this time, mentally promising that he would commit first-degree murder and get away with it the minute Shinoa showed her rat face again. He waited for the coffee machine to do the job and wrote Mika’s name on the takeaway cup, pausing before thinking to himself ‘fuck it’ and adding his phone number. He was gonna take the shot, especially since Mr Gorgeous had laughed at his sarcasm.

He finished putting it all together and smiled as he handed it over. “Skinny vanilla latte for Mika.”

“Thank you,” Mika grinned and pulled out a cup sleeve, slipping it onto the cup and completely hiding Yuu’s number. Yuu’s smile cracked. Fuck.

“Uh-” But Mika was already walking away after dropping change in the tip jar.

“Thank you!” He waved goodbye, the door closing behind him with a little jingle.

“You’re… welcome.” Goodbye gorgeous. Guess Yuu’d never see him again.

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

It was with great surprise that Yuu did in fact see Mika again, this time over Mitsuba’s shoulder as she did the ordering and customer talking while he just made coffee after endless coffee. Fuck rush hour holy shit.

He tried to catch Mika’s eye in-between frothing up milk and shaking cocoa powder over a cappuccino, green catching and locking with blue for the barest second before Mika smiled widely and gave him a little wave, a fancy-looking camera hanging around his neck. “Hi Yuu. Good luck with the rest of your shift, I hope it calms down a bit.”

“What, this? It’s no problem!” Yuu bragged, before he caught the side of his wrist on the milk spout and bit back a curse. Always with the burns.

“See you next time.” Mika grabbed his coffee, oblivious to Yuu’s plight, and walked out the door, again emptying some coins into the tip jar before he left.

Mitsuba turned to Yuu, blonde twintails bouncing with the movement. “You know that guy? He’s the nicest customer I’ve had yet. I hope he becomes a regular.”

“Yeah.” Yuu nodded. “Me too.”

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

Mika did, in fact, become a regular. Which was awesome.

Every Wednesday and Friday like clockwork he’d show up, order his skinny vanilla latte to have there, pick a booth, and do stuff on his laptop. It was pretty cool, aside from the fact that Yuu couldn’t write terrible pick-up lines on the latte glasses.

That was Plan A of ‘Operation: get Mika’s number’ thwarted.

Plan B was to write it on the napkins, but then the problem was that Mika didn’t order food. Currently Yuu was on Plan C, which was Plan B but better.

Mika walked in with his laptop bag and his camera-holding thingie, waiting patiently in line until he was at the counter. “Hi Yuu.”

“Hey Mika. The usual?” Yuu gave him a charming grin.

“That’d be great, thank you.” Mika beamed. It was really pretty.

Yuu had to take a second to recover.  “Easy, one usual coming up. Do you want to try a muffin to go with it? On the house, between you and me.”

Mika looked like he was considering it and for a moment Yuu’s hopes were rising, rising higher- “Thank you for the offer, but I already ate. Just the coffee, please.” And down those hopes fell, dashed against the rocks and crumpled like wretched Lucifer, cast from Heaven into the pits of hell.

“Sure thing. Give me a shot if you need a refill.”

“Will do.” Mika smiled at him, paid, and pottered off to go take a seat.

Yuu watched him go, noticing that he was wearing thigh-high boots what the fuck that wasn’t fair. That was illegal, that had to be illegal.

“Uh, sir? Sir? Can I order now?” Someone rang the bell and Yuu snapped back to reality, looking at the man in the- what the fuck was that a fucking cat? It looked like this man had lopped off the skull of a white tiger and mounted it on his head what the actual fuck. Yuu really hoped it was fake, he desperately fucking prayed.

Okay, goodbye Mika, hello Crazy Customer of the Day #309.

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

“Afternoon, Mika, the usual?” Yuu grinned at him, the café a bit quieter than usual. Maybe this time he could get a good conversation in while making Mika’s coffee.

“Yep, and also an English Breakfast tea, no sugars. I hope that’s not too much trouble.”

“None at all. You meeting a friend here?” He hoped it wasn’t a date. His attempts to try give Mika his number through shitty pick-up lines could not be foiled so easily.

“You could say that.” Mika smiled cheerfully, offering his card. “On debit, please.”

“No prob. He here yet?” Yuu looked around, not spotting any new faces.

“He said he’d be by in a few minutes. I’m surprised there’s not a rush, normally this place is quite busy. I thought getting a table would be harder.” Mika looked quite concerned at that.

Yuu waved it off as he finished putting in the docket. “It’s pre-midterms week. Everyone’s panic-studying, ordering pizza in, all that stuff.”

Mika chuckled. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m on top of my studies then, or else I might have had to miss out on the best coffee on campus.”

“Wouldn’t want that.” Yuu shot him a finger gun and a wink, before wondering if he’d overdone it. Luckily, Mika seemed to find it hilarious by how his smile went supernova and his laugh bubbled out of him.

“Definitely not. Thanks again.” Mika placed some coins in the tip jar before he went to the booth he always tried to sit at, pulling out his phone once he sat down.

Yuu watched him go and set to work on making the drinks, wondering if he should try make a food platter. Counterpoint to him trying to woo Mika through good food was the fact that Kimizuki was a snotty bitch who would kill him if he gave out even more free food, crushes be damned.

And yeah, Yuu could totally throw down with Kimizuki, but Mitsuba would tattle about it if there was a fight and he’d probably lose his job.

He’d just have to make it the best damn coffee in existence.

He was halfway through making the tea when a man walked in, and Yuu had to stop and stare for a sec because while yes, he was very fucking gay for Mika, he still had eyes.

It was when the total hunk sat down in front of Mika that Yuu felt his bout of ‘he’s pretty’ turn into entirely rational jealousy. Was Mika dating this guy? It took a special kind of hotness to pull off a braid and dyed bangs, Yuu could admit.

He put on his customer service smile as he carried the drinks over, rampant envy broiling in his veins. He set drinks down, being extra delicate and polite with Mika’s coffee and blanking out the other guy entirely. “here you go, Mika. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thanks. Crowley, this is Yuu, the barista I mentioned. Yuu, this is my dad, Crowley.”

Yuu practically heard the record scratch sound. Dad?

His next thought was along the lines of ‘oh thank god, Mika’s still possibly available’, and he was starting to realise he may be desperate. “Nice to meet you, Crowley.”

“You too,” Crowley grinned back with a touch of a British accent curling around the words, red eyes twinkling in amusement. “Thanks for the cuppa, luv.”

Yuu nodded before tuning him out again and giving another smile to Mika, going around to clear some other tables and already plotting his next move. Fingerguns and winks were now on the table. Mhuahahahaha.

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

“So, Mika, how’s the photography?” Yuu struck up a conversation as he cleared away the latte glass, taking advantage of the restaurant’s quiet to try and kickstart a deep meaningful conversation that he was absolutely going to fill with stupid jokes.

“it’s going well,” Mika smiled, saving the photoshop file on the screen. Clearly he’d lost a file once by accident and saved every program with the vigour of a spartan warrior ever since. “Are you interested in photography?”

“Actually, I’m studying psychology,” Yuu grinned. “Gonna go for a masters if I can once I’m done with this, then eventually you’ll have to address me as Dr Yuichiro.”

Mika’s smile sharpened slightly. “A PhD, huh?”

“Thinking about it.” He shrugged, trying to look humble when he was anything but.

“I think Dr Yuichiro’s got a good ring to it,” Mika smiled slyly, and oh no that wasn’t fair he was not allowed to make it sound so sexy.

“You’re the first. Kimizuki said I shouldn’t be allowed near people,” he grinned.

“And you work the register?” Mika laughed.

“Used to work in the back ‘til Narumi up and ditched us to ‘follow his dreams’,” Yuu told him conspiratorially. “I’m the only one of the kitchen staff who can reliably not scare away customers, so I got shunted here.”

“Maybe I should thank Narumi then, if he got me such a good barista,” Mika smiled. “You’re not scary at all.”

“How dare you, I’m terrifying,” he joked.

Mika scoffed, sapphire eyes sparkling. “As terrifying as my cat.”

Yuu let out a theatrical gasp, balancing his tray on one hand as he clutched his heart. “I think I liked you better when you were a polite customer.”

Mika blinked innocently at him, a challenge curling at the edges of his toothy grin. “Am I not anymore? Shame.”

What a brat. Yuu smirked at him in answer. “Well, I can’t be rude to customers, so I’m legally required to say no.”

“Only legally? Not morally?” Mika rested his chin in his hands as he leaned forward on the table, his photoshop file left entirely forgotten.

“Morally I can say whatever the hell I want as long as it’s not said in front of consumers.” Yuu winked.

“I guess you’re treading on thin ice right now, huh?” Mika bit his lip in affected concern, a prominent pearly canine catching for a moment, and Yuu’s mind went fucking blank. “Best be careful then. I wouldn’t want my favourite barista to go jobless. Right, Yuu-chan?~”

“R-right.” Yuu stuttered for a moment as he tried and failed to come up with literally any kind of flirty remark in reply, getting zero zilch zip from his flatscreening brain. Head empty no thoughts. “I’ll get you a refill, then?”

Mika’s smile screamed ‘cat who caught the canary’. “Don’t keep me waiting, Yuu-chan.”

He nodded and scampered back behind the counter, taking a minute to settle his racing heart. He heard a tapping sound and looked at the overpass into the kitchen, Kimizuki rapping a spatula on the counter.

“You’re pathetic.” Kimizuki’s scornful gaze was only amplified by the glasses he wore.

Yuu flipped him off. Fuck Kimizuki.

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

Yuu steeled his nerve as Mika walked in, refusing to let his crush pull one over on him again. Shinoa hadn’t let up since Kimizuki had told her, and Yuu was getting real tired of every whipcrack hand motion she was sending his way.

Mika smiled very innocently as he walked up to the counter, blue eyes bright and oh-so-breathtaking. “Hello, Yuu-chan.”

Little bastard.

“Good to see you too, Mika,” he grinned, resting his elbows on the counter. “Here for your usual, or are you thinking of switching it up?”

“Hm,” Mika tilted his head like he was considering it. “Now that you mention it, maybe I should try something out. How about something a little sweeter this time, Yuu-chan?”

“I think you’re sweet enough already,” Yuu flirted cheesily, watching Mika’s eyes widen a touch. That’s right, he could flirt too. All that ‘Yuu-chan’ business had no power over him now. “But sure, hit me up with what you want to try.”

Mika’s eyes sparkled delightfully, a challenge in his smile. “What’s your poison, then?”

Yuu raised a brow. “Well, I’m a black coffee kind of guy-”

“Because you grind so fine?” Mika interrupted him, like he didn’t just say the sexy pick up line for Yuu.

He gave Mika a Look, Mika merely batting his eyes back at him. “Double shot, nothing extra.” Maybe a bit of hazelnut when he really needed a pick-me-up. “That’s my coffee.”

“A ‘keep me up til two AM’ kind of guy, I like that.” Mika snickered.

“Stop it,” Yuu cautioned. Only he was allowed to use terrible puns like that.

“Make me,” Mika downright dared him, leaning over the counter a little more.

Yuu grabbed his chin and looked him in the eye, a spark of victory gleaming in his emerald gaze. “Keep it up and we’ll see where it gets you, gorgeous.”

Mika’s pupils dilated.

Yuu smirked at him and let go, picking up the docket sheet. “So, coffee order? You’re holding up the line, babe.”

Mika beamed, a smile like spun sunshine. “You know what, I think I’ll go for my usual after all. But maybe next time I’ll be a bit more daring.”

“Sure you will.” Yuu winked at him. “Later, beautiful.”

Mika laughed as he went to his favourite booth, Yuu internally high-fiving himself as he went. That went excellently.

Okay. Next time he’d ask him out. Next time for sure.

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

Today was the day. It was absolutely the day. Today for sure.

He handed Mika his coffee, got ready to say ‘I love you give me your number’, and chickened out when he realised that was absolutely not the way to ask and would instead plant him straight in ‘ultra creep’ territory.

Next week. Next week for sure.

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

Yuu looked up from wiping down the counter, groaning as Shinoa came in. “Aren’t you meant to be on your day off?”

“Well, yes,” Shinoa smiled far too innocently, and Yuu’s hackles went up with suspicion. “But my dearest friend has been telling me ALL about his new favourite café, so I had to come by and see it.”

“Shinoa, you work here.” Yuu glared at her.

“He doesn’t know that,” she smirked, eyes sparkling mischievously. “I never say names, my darling Yuu.”

“I never agreed to you calling me that.”

“I don’t care.” She swanned up to the counter, propping herself up on her hands and tiptoes. Yuu scowled as she smeared her hands all over the area he’d literally just wiped clean. “Now gimme free coffee.”

“Fuck off. Employee discount only and even then I’m debating making you pay full price.”

“You’re so mean,” she pouted. “And when I’m buying for my friend as well. I think you’d like him, as much as a big meanie like you can like anyone.”

“I like people, I’m not Kimizuki,” he rolled his eyes. “Who’s your damn friend?”

“Oh, you might know him.” Her evil grin came back full-force, making her look downright demented. “Why don’t we see if you can guess from his order?”

“Do you know how many customers we have?” Yuu snapped a tea towel at her hands. “Hands off the counter, you’re probably infested with something.”

“Boo you.” She huffed and raised her hands, twiddling her fingers as she did. “Anyway, I want a multi-mega mocha milkshake with extra sprinkles and four shots of coffee. Oh! And whipped cream. Lots of it.”

“You’re going to die from a caffeine overdose and I will film it.” He wiped the counter down again out of spite.

“Maybe so, but at least I’ll die not hopelessly pining for some boy who takes, oh, what was it now?” She tapped her chin, looking deep in thought. He didn’t buy it for a second, especially not when she turned a vicious smile onto him. “Oh, right, skinny vanilla latte. Large.”

He wondered what the hell kind of expression he made that had her cackling like the wicked witch she was. “You gotta be joking.”

“Nope, and remember, on the cup for that one, my friend’s name is Mik-ae-la~” She sounded out the name, taking too much joy in it. “And make it fast, sweetcheeks, he’s going to be here soon.”

“I hate you with every blood cell in my body.”

“Make sure to put one of your cute little pick-up lines on that now,” she winked. “I’ve been reading them whenever I take out the trash. You’re so desperate it’s cute. Now shoo shoo, make me coffee, coffee man.” She flicked a hand at him, revelling in the power that a customer had. Shit like this was why she was banned from interacting with the general public at work.

“Sure thing. I’ll bring your drinks out to you,” he forced out through a smile, teeth grinding together as he gritted them. His eye may have twitched. He wasn’t sure.

She twirled around and skipped to her seat, spinning her favourite little trinket in her hand and making the green and orange lights on it flare up like she was at a rave. He tried to stare a hole through the back of her head before he set about making her the drinks she ordered.

Mika. Mika was friends with Shinoa. It was a testament to how in love he was with that guy that knowing Mika willingly hung out with Shinoa did not become an immediate turn off. He liked her too, sure, for whatever was left of his sanity’s sake, but she was still a pain.

He heard the little bell above the door jingle and glanced up, his heart skipping a beat when he saw Mika waving at him. “Hey Yuu,” Mika grinned, sounding way too proud of himself.

“Hey Mika,” he smiled back, unable to stop himself from getting all soppy at the edges. “Skinny vanilla?”

“You bet,” he winked at Yuu and sauntered off to sit with Shinoa, the two of them immediately starting up some sort of gossipy conversation judging by the hand motions and expressions.

He looked down at the drinks he was plating up, took a deep breath, and furiously scribbled a puntastic pick-up line and his number on the napkin under Mika’s coffee. This was it. He was going to do it.

“I am not a coward,” he muttered to himself, picking up the tray and carrying it over. “That was a multi-mega mocha milkshake with quadruple shots, extra whip, and sprinkles, and a large skinny vanilla latte?”

“She’s having the deathshake.” Mika pointed at Shinoa, who fluttered her eyelashes at him.

“No problem.” Yuu set the drinks down, trying to ignore how he could hear his heartbeat thundering in his eardrums like the bass beat of a good metal concert, keeping on a smile that was at this point reserved only for Mika. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Will do,” Mika reached for a packet of sugar and dumped it into his coffee, picking up his spoon before his hand froze, sapphire eyes tracing over the wickerscratch handwriting on the napkin.

Are you an espresso? Because you’re a shot to my heart. Call me?

Mika blinked up at him, Yuu frozen in place with the sort of calm that only came from blasting beyond panic and landing in the cool grey apathy of total nerve-ridden shutdown.

Shinoa snorted, the sound snapping Yuu out of his quiet reverie. “Uh- I mean, unless you want to kinda- not to be a creep or anything, but we could-” he paused when Mika put a finger over his lips.

Mika’s smile was soft as silk. “I like movies?”

“Movies. Right. I’m off at eight?” No way no way no way-

“Eight sounds great,” Mika’s grin became a bit toothier. “I’ll meet you out front?”

“It’s a date?” Yuu smiled hopefully.

Mika grabbed the front of his apron and kissed his cheek. “You bet it is.”

“Great!” He gave him a thumbs up, practically floating back towards the counter with a sunshine smile all his own.

He heard Kimizuki scoff from the overpass at him. “What coffee shop fanfiction bullshit is this?”

Yuu ignored him, too happy to even care. Best workshift ever.

#owari no seraph #seraph of the end #mikaela hyakuya #yuichiro hyakuya #mikayuu #yuumika #yuumikayuu #fyrecrackeruwu #my writings #commission

[iwritethat]

Fantasy AU

Dick Grayson: Forbidden

A/N: The final one albeit late! My apologies but here you go.

Warnings: None???

>>>>——————————>

Being a noble maiden of the kingdom was strenuous, being the Princess of Ravaryn made it even more so. With aspects of being the 'perfect' daughter and influential figure added to your shoulders it was no wonder you had phases of rebellion.

If anything the King should be grateful you even showed up to the ball, the congregation of available Princesses and Duchesses also looking for a husband in their expensive flowing gowns and beautiful features maintained the fleeting attention of various suitable noblemen. The amount of suitors that had tried their luck was credit to your beauty enough, but you were not naive, it was the title they desired and they'd probably have the women they'd flirted with prior as mistresses during your union anyway. Alas, to appease the masses you played nice and observed almost all guests throw themselves at members of the Wayne family, Dick Grayson in particular. Admittedly you found him attractive, but he could have a flock of women with simply a smile - it's been that way since you were young. Although in your previous brief encounters, he was always so genuine - you recalled him informing the young ladies that he was from the circus, hoping that'd rid him of the crushing admiration they 'apparently' held for his handsome features and it worked, all lost interest except you who only grew more intrigued. That's why you associated so often despite your father forbidding such a union, his past and lack of true royal blood didn't change how you viewed him unlike other monarchs. Even as you matured, it was difficult to keep your distance from one another, carefully avoiding your families informants and suspicion of other Nobles when doing so. Though currently, you'd managed to sneak out of the ball undetected opting to change into clothing more fitting of your disapproving destination.

.

It wasn't uncommon for you to be seen wandering the streets and many of the townsfolk favoured you because of your friendly attitude toward all beings regardless of species or wealth. So when you burst into your local bar, a wave of cheers and greetings sounded from friends that were deemed unworthy to attend the Palace event.

"Hit me with my usual~" You sung once reaching the ancient oak bar, the Faun bartender pleased with your regular business automatically slid over your favourite alcoholic beverage and proudly leaned over the counter to talk to you like always.

"I saved some for you Princess, knew you'd be in tonight or at least I sure hoped so. And by the way, Happy Birthday!" At his last sentence, the whole pub sparked to life with 'Merlin' the mage illuminating the warmly lit area in an array of morphing sparks and colours that delighted the senses, the iconic noir grand piano of the Inn belted upbeat music accompanied by the rest of the jazzy band which set rhythm into people's feet with your friends and locals dancing together. Laughter surrounded you with occasionally out of tune vocals echoing over the music as everyone enjoyed the surprise party as well as some humorous shenanigans encouraged by the constant serving of alcoholic beverages.

"Hah - bet our celebration is a lot better than that fancy pants gig you came from huh your highness?" The young Blacksmith grinned, offering you a tastefully crafted dagger by his own hand as a gift.

"You- you all remembered? I thought-" You couldn't even expressed your gratitude properly but they understood.

"Of course we did, as mates of yours we weren't distracted with getting you a husband like those nobles are. Now c'mon, enjoy your birthday your Majesty!" The faun enticed, lightly herding you off of your barstool before a handsome villager pulled you into the fray, you danced with them, next being spun into a witch coven who wished you well, your feet were non stop, being met with the paces of werewolves to vampires to townsfolk each twirling, dancing and offering you their blessings and suddenly the music halted with your new partner.

.

You turned into him, the man who caught you by the waist thus silencing all surrounding you by appearance alone. By the rich texture of his clothing and the golden medals adorning his chest you knew he wasn't local.

"So you thought you could leave all by yourself? Not very smart of you my Queen." His voice was smooth, tone knowing that he had one over on you with a playful spunk to it.

The accurate nickname was the giveaway but you gazed into the sparking sapphires of Dick Grayson anyway, taking the time to remove your hands from his chest.

"Don't call me that yet - shouldn't you be looking for a wife or something?"

"Oi oi your Majesty! The mans' calling you his Queen, don't that mean you're his wife?!" Instantly, one of the ale mugs was shot across the Inn courtesy of your favourite Faun, hitting the Blacksmith square on the skull thus knocking him out cold much to your relief.

"Well... I knew you were strange (Y/n) but I didn't expect to see you in a place like this." Dick commented, overlooking the less than regal scenery.

"Oh really? What's wrong with it? Aside from drunkards jumping to conclusions obviously..." The last part was muttered in a sheepish manner but the defensiveness in your tone was admired by your friends.

"Nothing, it's awesome!" The pure happiness in his voice surprised you somewhat, as well as the rest of the guests but you could tell they’d already accepted him.

"...You're not like the others are you Dick Grayson?"

"It takes one to know one (Y/n) (L/n). Anyway I saw you disappear and I couldn't exactly let you leave without me so..." He trailed off, almost embarrassed as he spoke which indicated he was hiding something and with an expectant look he would tell you.

"..."

"Okay to be honest the Ball was super boring and I only attended to hang out with you but you disappeared, plus this party seemed pretty sweet."

"What I can I say? My friends know how to entertain." You laughed, guiding him to a quiet secluded corner booth where drinks were served as you sat down to catch your breath.

"I agree, but you're not going to find any approved suitors here."

"Ah yes, I'm missing out on the blissful marriage to some aristocrat I may not even like in hopes of making the rich richer. He'll probably only cheat on me anyway, and so I doubt I'm missing out on much.” You offhandedly shrugged, taking a sip of your beverage.

"Ah you might be right but we're not all bad, for the record if I were allowed to marry you, it wouldn't be for my Kingdom, nor for the Royal Courts. They would matter but those duties would fall second to you, you'd be my one and only - forget mistresses or whatever they'd expect me to indulge in." It was reassuring to know that you both agreed with one another, despite this opinion most likely being frowned upon by the King.

"It would be the same for me if I were to ever have the pleasure of marrying you, you'd be the one thing I'd truly love more than anything. You'd come first."

"Maybe that's the real reason we're forbidden to marry, because it would be for love and not power." The male spoke truthfully, sheepishly running a hand through his raven hair.

"Are you saying you love me?" Your voice held a degree of mischievous merit, amused at the position you found yourselves in.

"That depends, are you saying you'd want to marry me?" Dick matched your tone, equally pleased with your wit.

.

“YOUR MAJESTY!”

Instantly you were on your feet, conversation long forgotten and curious glare directed at the Royal Guards situated at the Bar entrance.

“You’re with - It matters not, your father has ordered your return but under these circumstances, we are to place you both under arrest.” At his statement, the bar fell into silence and you knew that your friends would be willing to fight the Guards for you with no hesitation - you lowly raised your hand, a respectful nod sent to the Faun who immediately understood, they were not to involve themselves in this, those were your orders.

“You can’t, I forbid it!”

“I regret to inform you that the Kings commands outrank yours. By far.”

Your expression hardened at their honest explanation despite a majority of the group watching over you since birth, Dick placed a careful palm on your waist leaning to whisper in your ear.

“I can take them, all you must do is ask.”

Instantly your gaze softened as it locked with his crystal ones, you knew he was perfectly capable but that would only make the situation worse.

“No, I won’t let you get in more trouble.”

“Step away from the Princess immediately!” The lead Guard demanded due to your close proximity, sword pointed in your general direction. You were aware how your father hated the bonds you shared with an ‘unworthy’ suitor but this was ridiculous.

However, Dick obeyed albeit reluctantly - on the other hand, you weren’t as disciplined when it came to your fathers orders. As a result you pulled him toward you, hands placed on his chest before gently reaching one to his neck to bring his lips to meet yours with more passion than there should have been. You pulled away, both of you exchanging meaningful looks before turning your attention back to your loyal guards.

“What if I want him as close as possible?” Your words held mischief, playing with idea of taunting your father through the guards who no doubt would diverse the event in full detail.

“Then we shall arrest you... My apologies your majesty.” And they did just that, separating the two of you with their weapons before escorting you out of the bar with little resistance as you laughed under the flurry of witty remarks courtesy of Dick Grayson.

.

“So my Queen, I’ll take our current situation as a yes to my previous question?” His time was charming yet held underlying sincerity.

“Yes! Of course it is, how could I say no to a man like you my love?” Yours more sarcastic but truthful none the less as the Guard urged you toward the carriage.

“Then I promise I’ll do it properly once we’re out of this mess (Y/n).”

“I look forward to it.” You gave him a wink as you we’re seated opposite one another in the carriage - no doubt on the way to face the wrath of your father.

Together.

#dc #dc imagine #dick grayson #nightwing #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x reader #fantasy au #au #alternate universe

[awfully-sadistic]

Having a holly, jolly Christmas

Because it’s the best time of the year!

I don’t know if there’ll be snow,

But have a cup of cheer!

Silent Night Vector Hyllus did not know what Christmas was and even less about what it stood for. Coming from a time where the galaxy and everything that happened in it happened a very “long time ago” and “far, far away” one could argue that he didn’t have to. It wasn’t like it was celebrated in any of the planets he had known and it made less sense to try to understand it since joining the hive mind and becoming Dawn Herald for an alien race that looked like giant ants known as Killiks. It just seemed so insignificant given the race had no use for human holidays and thus, Vector remained in ignorance for a very long time as he remained as one with the hive. 

Each and every Killik were in mental contact with one another, however, far away from the hive mind now, far away from any duties where he had nearly nothing to do but learn about different cultures and customs, Vector had gotten curious. The Haushold provided so many new experiences, rich, that he thought even exploring the galaxy couldn’t prepare him for the things he had seen in the Family. He was a silent observer, noting things, taking in everything with those seemingly lifeless blackened eyes and almost stoic expression.

Right now, those black eyes were trained on Dot. She was opening a gift that had been offered to her despite sitting in a wealth of presents from others who have known her longer, more intimately.

Yet, she was opening a gift from him.

The concept of gift exchanging was not as foreign as the concept of Christmas. Killiks had their own customs but he didn’t think she’d appreciate rubbing their forearms together. Or appreciate what others had called his “bug milk”, he hadn’t wanted to make a bad impression on her.

“We had hoped you liked it.” Vector finally spoke in that peculiar way that he does; when he speaks, he speaks in a soothing tone and for the hive he has joined with. Even far away.

Dot pulled an intricately designed necklace from the box, stunned by the exotic beauty of something she knew had to come from another galaxy. There were stones on it she’s never seen before and couldn’t even begin to describe. “It’s... beautiful,” she admired, unable to take her eyes off the way the gems glittered, shifted, twinkled. It sounds like a song, almost.

“We are glad.” Vector replied. It might have sounded like an ordinary statement but the way his shoulders relaxed showed Dot he had been holding onto tension based on her reaction. “We think the sound reminds us of The Song of the Universe; more specifically, we think it reminds us of your part.”

“Song?” Dot asked, looking up in a startled expression. “My? Wait, what does that mean?”

And Vector smiled softly, anxious in his own way to talk to her about this mysterious melody that was created by all living things with a part to play. He especially wanted to share what he thought about hers.

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

“Your name is Carol. How can you not know Christmas carols?”

“I’m going to give you ten seconds to get out of my face before I send you to another dimension like I did with Tony.” 

Carol Danvers and Jason Todd were staring down at each other; both with big personalities and headstrong stubbornness that could out-mule any jackass in the Haus. This wasn’t anything mean-spirited but more that everyone had a lot to drink and manners were becoming unhinged.

Unfortunately, with huge personalities and clashing egos, a lot of manners would be unhinged. It was also an interesting mix considering the Marvel side and the DC side mingled quite well with one another. Too many people were like two sides on the same coin. It was nuts but it would also take a charging rhino to break up anyone (or these two) when they got going. 

Most of the time, it would end up with Carol as the victor because... she really was incredibly stronger than Jason (or nearly anyone else for that matter). Yet Jason was as stubborn as Ripley had been during the first merging month with Atamu, trying to get the jump on him.

Dot sat in her booth staring at the two with her mouth posed around a straw. She was drinking a milkshake and there was no way she was going to be stepping into that argument.

Well, at least until Carol made the first attempt to send Jason Todd bam, pow, straight to the moon. So, she decided to step in with a harmless statement.

“What carols do you know, Jason?” she smiled around the straw as Jason’s head whipped around, searching the crowd before they settled on Dot. Immediately, he got a lazy grin on his face and it seemed like he forgot he was talking to Carol. He came strolling over, sliding into the booth next to her.

Unfortunately for him, Carol followed. She slid in on Dot’s other side, effectively trapping the girl between the two; something... she really didn’t think through despite only a few moments ago deciding not to... be in the middle of them.

“I know lots,” he boasted.

Carol wasn’t buying it. “You do, do ya? Then how come you were makin’ a big fucking stink about me singing carols?” she asked, wrapping an arm around Dot’s shoulders and tugging her onto her side (of the argument). “Why didn’t you just sing somethin’?”

Jason’s expression deadpanned; one, he knew what Carol was doing and two, who invited her?! But as Jason was going to find out, no one invited Carol. She came because she wanted to, IF she wanted to. And Dot was around so duh, of course she was here.

“JARVIS, give me a Christmas carol.” Jason stated before the A.I. asked, “And what would you like to listen to, sir?”

Carol wasn’t even trying to hide the grin splitting her face. It was apparent Jason had just expected JARVIS to just play a carol over the loud speaker. Dot was trying to be a lot more polite though, clearing her throat and glancing up at her Mommy.

“...Any... one of them,” Jason said through grit teeth.

“Yeah, but which one?” Carol asked before JARVIS could play something, thus bailing Jason out. She was giving Dot a wink, one that Jason caught and Dot giggled at. They both knew he was more or less had--Jason didn’t know a damn carol even if it bit him in the butt... or sent him into another dimension.

“SOMETHING SOMETHING, OUR LORD AND SAVIOR JESUS, DAMN.”

Carol burst out laughing and Dot found herself doing the same. JARVIS, sounding like an unappreciated Alfred sighed and played a random carol that did, in fact, talk about Jesus.

O Come All Ye Faithful

“He’s... where and doing what?” Dot asked, unbelieving but at the same time, not surprised. It was a weird combination considering she had tried to be optimistic about it and figured it would be the one time Wesker wasn’t hiding down in the lab basements missing all the festivities and mingling with Family on Christmas. He’s been with everyone for HOW long and he’s still acting like an anti-social butthead?!

Jake rubbed a hand on his closely shaven head; at least he had been in the festive mood, wearing an “ugly” sweater that matched with his younger siblings; notably Flash, Petey, and Miles. He was grinning and looking down at his Ma, before his hand dropped to his side and then back towards the general direction of the Lab entrance.

“You know how that old bastard is. It’s probably better without him, scowling at everyone. Being the Grinch while we’re all trying to have a good time.”

“He’s still part of this Family!” she said though she knew Jake wasn’t the one who needed to hear this. She sighed and reached up--which still wasn’t enough and Jake, used to the gesture, bent his large frame so that Dot could cup his cheek. “Thank you for telling me. Now I’m going to give your father a piece of my mind and you can expect him to be up here, wearing a sweater of his own.”

Jake grinned again, leaning into his Ma’s hand. “I can’t wait to see that,” he said, pressing a kiss to the center of her palm. “That’d be a merry fucking Christmas for me!”

Dot had did her best to assure Jake that Wesker wasn’t going to get away with just an ugly sweater but he was going to give each and every one he usually hassled a Christmas present--with love, and personally delivered. Even if she had to lead him by the ear to do it.

The lab doors opened to its elevator and Dot stepped in, jabbing her thumb at the console, hitting the Basement sublevels. She had her arms crossed and ready to go OFF--

But then the elevator doors opened and the scenery before her stole her breath away. The lights were dimmed as she stepped out of the elevator and hanging above her head were strings of lights with a delicate lighting setting. It cast the usually harsh fluorescent scene of the labs in a soft glow reminiscent of a snow fall during the night. Quiet, serene, personal, private.

Standing at the other end of the hallway was Wesker. By now, Dot figured she was... set up. Jake working with Wesker? Well, she never expected that. And that was probably how she was lured to the labs without a second thought about being set up and all worked up about it, too.

Now the air was let out of her balloon and she felt entirely aware of walking towards the mastermind behind.. whatever this was.

It took her a little bit to actually reach Wesker considering she was still admiring the time and effort it took to string up the lights. Sure, the servants must have done it but the thought had been no doubt Wesker’s own. When she stood in front of him, he was already staring down at her. That stupid smug grin on his face was in place and the sensation flared up to smack the glasses off his face. But he surprised her by presenting her with a small box.

Slowly, she took it, giving him a quizzical glance. “Why couldn’t you have given this to me upstairs. You know, with everyone else?” she jabbed, only half-serious. It was more so being a brat out of anything.

“That is precisely the reason,” Wesker replied with a sigh, slightly only serious himself. “there were too many people.” Dot was going to further push it by mentioning that was the point of being Family but Wesker cut her off and added, “It’s not a crime to steal a little of your time. Everyone else does it.”

Dot didn’t point out that he has, on more than one occasion, has committed crimes on securing some quality time well spent with Dot but dropped it as soon as the lid to the box had been pulled off. She wasn’t aware that Wesker had placed his hands over hers, helping her open her present in an attempt to steer her attention away from scolding him or otherwise giving him a “hard” time. Hardly a hard time; he loved their little verbal spars. It kept him sharp and on his toes--but he didn’t want to sully this, their, moment with something like that. He wanted to show her that she was special.

“...This is...” 

“Mm hm. It is.”

Dot laughed a little, staring down at the gigantic heart shaped diamond. “...You’re surprisingly sentimental.”

Wesker made a thoughtful sound at the back of his throat. He looked a little uncomfortable, perhaps having to share more than a thimble of emotion. But he managed to do it because Dot was worth much more than that and she had the right to know and had all his attempts on ...opening up. Despite how hard it was for someone like Wesker to. 

“Only with the right person.” Wesker replied, “and you are the right person.” He enclosed the giant jewel in Dot’s tiny little hand. It didn’t even fit but it felt like a good example of how his heart was held in her small hand. It might be a little cold and harder than any precious metal on earth but it was precious to her and she would keep it safe.

[* I’m sorry there’s not a lot! I wrote until I had to sleep for tomorrow and this was all I managed to get done! @.@;  ]

#{{ Dedication: Holidays

[agentotero-blog]

..//application prompts

If you could steal anything, what would it be? 

Zo had long since lost track of the time, despite it being a work night.  ‘Just stay for one beer,’  Kit had urged, shoving the opened bottle into his hand before he had a chance to respond at all.  That one beer had turned into two, then three, then four.  The laughter had become cacophonous, meddling with whatever had been playing over the speakers at the time.  He met Monty's eyes whenever his gaze was hidden by the tilt of glass bottle.  The look alone was more than enough to keep him in his seat while they were still there.

The discussion had transformed from reminiscing over old jobs to what ifs.  None of which he could participate in, of course, but he didn't mind listening in.  It was a rarity that he actually felt like one of the group, a truly integrated member, so he was content to be a fly on that wall.  Watching the others and how they interacted when they weren't all business was interesting.  They actually seemed like normal people. Like friends.

“What about you, boy scout? What would you steal?”  It took a few heartbeats of silence and everyone looking at him for Zo to realize the question had been addressed to him.  He had been so engrossed on just being there he hadn't even noticed who’d asked it.  He was certain it was a loaded question, it was no secret his association with them was the only thing he did that was even remotely illegal.  He took a long draw from his near-empty drink, scanning the circle they'd formed and met each one's eyes.

“I know you all expect me to say nothing since you all think I'm a boring asshole.”  He said, a bemused smirk tugging at the side of his mouth.  “Can it be anything? At all?” A few nods and shrugs answered the question.  “Logistically, this makes no sense but bear with me--”  He held up both hands in a moment of suspense. “Dogs. I'd steal all the abused dogs that I could house. I'd be Crazy Dog Dude, and it would be awesome.”

Tell us about a time you nearly got caught.

It had taken a long time to get used to lying.  As a child, it'd been a sinful thing, something that had earned him knuckle raps from the nuns at school. As a teenager, it'd simply just been a near impossible task with his sisters around; they saw through every attempt with snarky comments and loud announcements around the dinner table.

As a cop, it started feeling more natural.  Zo still obtained the same doubtful looks now and then, but they were hardly as persistent or dissecting as his sisters’ had been.  The duality of his actions were a simple thing, white lies Cliff had called them.  Seemed valid coming from someone like him.  Still, the more Zo told them, the more confident and fluid he became.

Then there was the Bureau, who expected him to lie.  It was a course all in its own.  Beating lie detectors, stifling your tells, reading everyone else's, it was a complete reversal to everything he had learned back home.  For once he was grateful for his time on the force.  If nothing else, it had hardened him for the life of deception he had apparently chosen to adopt.

When a suspect USB stick was found in a Bureau computer, it was easy for Zo to say it wasn't his.  If he really broke down the semantics of the question, he was telling the truth about that.  It was The Hacker’s, he simply plugged it in.  It was only the second time he had asked to do it, but he was determined not to fail.  If he was going to begin a life a crime he wasn't going to fuck it up on the second week.

So when his turn for interrogation came, he followed all the rules as he so often did.  He kept his eyes straight ahead, focusing on the interrogator but not so much he looked fake.  He flooded his thoughts with a calming memory to keep his heart rate down. He didn't fidget.  He was calm, relaxed and seemingly honest, as though he had nothing to hide.

He'd even managed to swipe the stick from lock up after it was all said and done.  He had swiped the access card for the poor sap who had taken the fall, an intern who was already on thin ice.  There was a voice that scraped at the back of his brain, it was either Sister Tomlinson or his mother, he wasn't quite sure. This is what you do now, mijo? This is how you live? How the mighty have fallen.

“That's what the confessional is for.” He muttered to the unspoken voice as he climbed into his car.

What’s the hardest part of being in a heist group?

The group was gathered around a large table in the apartment dining room.  It was odd to Zo that they called it that since in his time with the group he’d never seen them eat there.  In his head, he always referred to it as the crime room, but he’d never utter it out loud.  If he did, perhaps some would laugh, but others would likely not see it as a joke.  Which, in truth, it wasn’t.  To him what they did seemed intense, forbidden and highly illegal.  But to them, it was their job, their livelihood, just as much as the Bureau was for him.  How would he react to someone being so flippant and dismissive of his job?

It’s part of why he felt like such an outsider at times like this.  The planning stage, arguably the most important, was when he felt most useless.  Zo was perched in the corner of the room, his back leaned against a wall with crossed arms and ankles.  He was listening, but he was too far away to see.  His role was always secondary, supportive, or in the very least, protective.  Most of the time he wasn’t even there when things went down, he was covering them in an ancillary role.  Yet Dante had always insisted he was around for conversations like this one.

It was hardly the first time he’d felt like he was on the outside looking in, but for some reason now it hit him far harder than it ever had in the past.  Roman and Dante spoke the most, but others chimed in with inside jokes that send a ripple of smirks and laughter down the table.  The fact that he was one of the newest additions to the group was probably the real reason the comments went over his head, yet somehow there was still a bemused grin on Mirasol’s face.  

He knew he’d probably never be one of them, but part of him couldn’t help but wish he could.

What’s the best part about it?

After everything he’d done on the force, Zo never thought he would be able to repent.  Somehow he’d moved on to a better job.  Somehow he’d moved into a nicer apartment.  Somehow he managed to find serenity again.  The peaceful familiar quiet of suburbia certainly helped with the latter two, as did the lengthy phone calls with his Mother.  But the guilt of it all still nagged at him.  He said as much, during a confession with the new parish Father he’d joined since his move upstate.  

“Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.  For he that soweth to his flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption; but he that soweth to the Spirit shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting.”  The Father’s voice drifted quietly through the distorting window of the confessional booth, his voice calm and firm.  “Karma is not a Catholic belief, my son, but the Lord God does see fit to punish those who act against his teachings.” Zo didn’t need him to tell him that, he’d figured that much out on his own when he’d been assigned to the RICO division.  An argument arose inside his chest, but he stifled it.  Once upon a time, he’d had no issues spilling all his secrets and apprehensions to his Priests, but now, since he’d become a part of this group, the secrets weren’t just his own.

He’d left the booth the predicted prescription of prayer and Hail Mary’s but he also left with a new thing to contemplate.  Why hadn’t he told the Father about the heist he’d only a few days prior?  Or the infiltration goggles prototype he’d stolen from work yesterday?  Both sins-- both worthy of a confession.  He’d confessed plenty of sins he and his fellow officers had committed when he was on the force, so why was he so hesitant now?

Zo crossed himself as he left, stepping out into the harsh morning sunlight, a huge contrast from the pinkish weak pre-dawn glow that’d been there when he’d gone inside.  It hadn’t been his intention to detour to the church on his run, but that’s where his feet had led him, and he let them take over once more after he plugged his headphones back in.  Sneakers stomping on the pavement and a hard-pumping heart were his two favorite feelings in the world.  He let himself get lost in the feel of it, the beat of his music, the rush of adrenaline.

He finally drifted to a walk on a too-familiar street.  It wasn’t his own, he hadn’t run home.  He’d run to the group’s apartment.  Breathing heavy, he halted in front of the stoop, squinting up at the white building that almost glowed in the morning haze.  Like a revelation, it hit him.  A smile broke across his face despite himself.  What had baffled him not moments and miles ago, was suddenly as clear as the crystalline windows glinting the reflection of the tree that lined the street.  He couldn’t confess against them for the same reason he’d never been able to against his sisters:  because they’d become family.  Against all better judgment, against all better reason, against all better logic, they were his family.

Were they criminals? Sure.  Were they sinners?  Absolutely.  But they were his, and that’s all that mattered.

#about;;

[gutterdreams]

153 w Billy 💖

“You’ve rolled your eyes 7 times since we got here.” / Requests are closed

This one was requested many times. It is a small little story that takes after Pantomime READ HERE

"Hey..." A few feet into the convention center, you took Billy's wrist and stopped him in place. His eyes slid down to you and you mustered up something that resembled a smile. "Can you give it a try?" Sincerely, you asked with your face nearly pleading. Billy had been gung-ho about driving down to Indianapolis with you, but he had no interest in taking in the job fair. Colleges and recruiters lining up through the large room with pamphlets and poster boards. It was the only reason his dad even let him go down with you (and because you drummed up the suggestion). "I'm fine. I'm here." Somewhat defensively, Billy shook his head and scanned the room as if it show you that he was present. He hadn't made any attempt on the Holiday Inn bed to hide that he didn't want to go. For him, this visit was about being alone with you on a queen sized bed that your parents paid for. "You've rolled your eyes 7 times since we got here..." Narrowing your eyes into his, you told him with one fist pushed into your hip. You two had been there a grand total of five minutes as well which meant he started being annoyed in the parcade. At your comment, Billy rolled his eyes again. "Just try." You shook his hand and reminded him before starting down the row of displays. "We have to find some things to prove to your dad we went anyway." You reminded Billy, noticing that he was staring forward while you were glancing over the poster boards you passed. "Why? So he can tell me how stupid they are and how I'm not going to amount to anything..." Obviously affected, Billy grumbled. You let go of his hand to give his a hand a pat and tried to carry on. In your head, you hoped someone from the fire academy or a well regarded car shop was there. You were determined to find something that intrigued Billy there. While you two walked around, quietly, you were separated. You had taken to looking at different college programs while Billy was still digging into himself and trying to pretend he wasn't completely miserable. Why couldn't you two have stayed on the hotel balcony and just hung out? With a few booklets and papers hugged to your chest, you found Billy on a metal bench outside of the exhibition. He was near the vending machine, but no candy bar wrapper or soda can near him.  "Did you find anything that seemed kind of cool?" Sounding hopeless, you asked and came around to sit beside him. Billy shifted a thin booklet on his lap, allowing you to see the cover. "ASL?" You read the cover page with surprised interest and put your own pile down between you and Billy, taking the book to flip through it. "I grabbed an application for the police academy, too, but..." Embarrassed, he started to explain and scratch at his forehead while watching you read. "I think my signing is getting better with Edie." He shrugged and mentioned as if it was a pointless comment. "It is." Wholeheartedly, you agreed. "You think you'd want to work at the deaf center out here?" "The woman at the booth for the community college said there would be more options in California." He decided to keep to himself that he thought he could be a pretty good teacher with deaf students. Billy had really started to like signing with your kid sister. It helped curbed his rage because he couldn't express himself that way yet and he had to really focus when communicating with her. He remembered feeling pissed off when your mom mentioned that Edie couldn't go to some shows that came through town because they didn't have a translator and it was too hard to keep up otherwise. It seemed unfair and Billy knew all about unfair. "This is very cool." Handing it back to him, you encouraged and kissed him. You were really glad he had decided to give the job fair a chance. "I could practice signing with you if you wanted." "Yeah, thanks. That'd be helpful." He nodded bashfully and took a look at the papers you out between the two of you. "You took a little bit of everything, huh?" He noted as he flipped through information about legal secretaries, early childhood education, and culinary courses. Instead of telling Billy that you still didn't know what you wanted to do, you signed it and watched as he tried to detect it. "You don't know?" Very slowly, he tried to sign back. You nodded and kissed him, knowing that you two had miles to go, but glad none the less.

[ofmicxh-blog]

Tablet in hand, Micah’s straight path finally found a turn when he arrived at the diner. He pulled the earbud string to dislodge the music roaring in his ears and stepped inside. His thought process was simple, for often unwarranted complexity muddied the truth. Surely a worker at the diner would have some valuable information about this town, particularly considering this was the only restaurant in a 15 mile radius. As he had hoped, the worker scrubbing the glossy wood counters bore enough resemblance to the one from the other night to be comfortably labelled as the same one. It would be far easier to gather information from someone who had seen and served him before, for their short interactions would allow this man to label Micah a nonthreat and hopefully allow for ease of interview. Micah rattled his brain for the name of the worker before opening conversation, recalling “Xavier” the moment the worker began to speak.

“Back again?” Xavier chuckled darkly, the frown from days earlier still plastered on his face. Micah was quick to note that this was likely his relaxed expression. The worker continued, “Usually newbies like your gang hop town after a few nights. ‘Mean, motel is crap so ‘don’t blame them. Sit wherever ya’ want.”

Prior to even offering a reply, Micah rapidly compiled a mental list of observations. This was characteristic of Micah for when he was actually interested in another person, for it provided a basis on how to approach someone. The current list compromised of Xavier’s tendency to drop “I”s, his lack of hand gestures, shortness of sentences, and a slightly long pause that punctuated every statement.

Drawing a breath, Micah replied, “Motel’s not a Hilton, but we’ve seen too much to be freaked out by a cockroach. Anyways, if you have time, I‘d actually like to talk to you. The people I’m with do ghost hunting and are interviewing the locals of Silverwood. You down?”

A moment of silence hung loosely in the air as the other man weighed his options. Seemingly out of nowhere, he speedily swung around the counter and into a booth near the front. Micah stood rather still for the duration of this process, only progressing once the sat down man invited, “Well, we gonna do this or not?” The frown on his lips nearly turned into a smile, but did not effectively correct the rather off putting facial expression.

Micah slid into the booth seat across from the man and open his tablet, beginning the list of usual questions, “So, for some intro sh-stuff, some intro stuff. I’m Micah Byeon. Part of the Mystery Busters. Look us up on YouTube we got a fu-frick ton of followers and some adventures. I’m going to be taking notes on my tablet, if that’s all right. Mind if I record you? Just kind of standard practice. Last intro question, I promise. Your name is Xavier, right? Can I get a last name?”

“You can cuss if ya’ want. ‘Don’t care all too much. ‘Don’t get all fancy with me either. And yeah, sure—all that’s good. Name’s Xavier Bernardo.”

Micah released a semblance of a chuckle with his permission, turning on the recording app on his phone and opening up a new document. He typed out the basics before starting the actual interview, “You have no fucking idea what you’ve just allowed me to do with that permission. Okay, okay, so some basic shit about you—how long have you been working at this diner?”

“Since ‘was five. It’s a family tradition. Three generations.”

“God, you must have some pretty weird stories then with Silverwood from your parents and grandparents. Any stand outs?”

“Yeah. M’ dad and grandpa would always talk about this time when this crazy guy came in. Got into a fight with my uncle and nearly broke his nose. Kept hollerin’ ‘bout somethin’ chasin’ him or bein’ inside him. Story changed each time. He went off to Silverwood and died in that freak thing that happened.”

That sounded eerily like the person Bryce was researching. The notes Micah jotted down were a tad more precise because of this. “Do you have any documentation of this or who this person was?”

“’Maybe got one of my dad’s journal entries back at the house. Could have a few photos. Lord knows my aunt took pictures of everything. Can bring it to work tomorrow if ya’ want.”

“That would be fucking awesome. How about you? Any interesting people stop in here while you were on shift?”

“Nah, not much really. Freaky thing happened when I was real young. Workin’ late though is a trip. ‘Swear, once a week there’s this little girl cryin’ sound outside my window followed by lots of knocking and then weird laughter and then it’s gone. ‘Went out once to investigate, saw nothin’, heard some creepy laughter, felt cold, and then went back inside. Never went back out there since. It can go on for ten minutes max and freaks out the chef back there. Nights it goes real long we just hide in the kitchen. Always walk home together, cheffie ‘n I. Next door neighbors and all and the cryin’ sounds.”

“I’d like to ask you a bit about the freaky thing in a few, but for now, do you have a recording of the sounds?”

“No, no, ‘don’t. Always too scared to record it. Next time it happens, though, I’ll get it.”

“That’d be intensely great. I’ll hook you up with our emails so you can just email it all to us. Now, about that freaky thing. What do you think happened?”

“When I was a kid like you, ‘thought it was some government conspiracy theory. Nowadays, not so much. Workin’ ‘round Silverwood, hearin’ the weird sounds—yeah, definitely not the government. ‘Think it had something to do with that Sabrina Zoel. ‘Think she put together something. She was a psychic ‘n all. Maybe she was a psychic and a medium. Got some demons in on it.”

“And how do you feel about us investigating both Marblemount and Silverwood?”

“Think you’re all stupid and you’re gonna die.”

An audible laugh fell from Micah’s lips. The man’s words held no threat to the boy prepared for death, the boy that would welcome it happily. After a few final wrap up questions, some gentle conversation, and an exchanging of information, the interview ceased.

#phq.task #insert the rose gif of like 'it's been 84 yrs'

[jinjikook]

Sugar Sweet | 2 | (M) [Discontinued]

word count: 5.3k

genre: smut + a little fluff; college AU + fuckboy!kihyun

pairing: reader/kihyun

summary: your best friend & roommate changkyun just wanted to help get you laid. instead you found solace in a pink haired man named kihyun who had a smart mouth with sharp words you weren’t afraid to let cut you, as long as he didn’t mind you hurting him a little too.

a/n: there’s very very verrrry slight dubcon, but in the end it’s consenting by both parties. just in case that isn’t your cup of tea, but i promise it’s as minimal as possible. trust me.

part 1 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 |��part 6 | part 7 

masterlist

You couldn’t believe your eyes.

Here was the man who gave you admittedly one of the best orgasms of your entire life and managed to make your heart go all kinds of tender within one night who also nearly tossed you out of the apartment you’d never thought you’d go to, less than 6 hours ago.

He blinked a few times before everything finally seemed to click, almost audible to your ears as his entire expression shifted. Kihyun smiled smugly at you, bowing slightly as a proper greeting before sliding into the booth next to Changkyun.

“Um, Y/N? Aren’t you going to say hi? Or at least clean up the mess you made? Which by the way, gross.” Changkyun pointed out the puddles of half coffee half spit on your table and you shook out of your trance to reach for some napkins, busying yourself with cleaning so you wouldn’t have to look up and make eye contact with the devil himself.

You heard a throat clear before Kihyun’s voice began to travel to your ears, just as melodious as it was this morning.

“So Y/N, is it?” You nodded. “You look familiar, have we met before?” You were going to strangle him. Hell, you would’ve done it right here and right now, damn any witnesses inside the café, if Changkyun wasn’t there. He seemed excited to have met Kihyun, for what reason you have no idea, and the last thing you wanted was to take away a friend from him. Especially since his best friend Jooheon is constantly busy with schoolwork lately and Hyungwon is always too lazy to do anything. He needed another guy friend around and he seemed dead set on making that Kihyun. Unfortunately for you.

Silence.

In all honesty, you didn’t want to answer him. You didn’t even want to acknowledge his presence, let alone play his little game. But then you peeked up and saw Changkyun’s puppy eyes, the ones that you were always so weak for. He got whatever he wanted anytime he put them to use and it became a deadly weapon for him when he really wanted something. But this time, his eyes were soft and shaking, waiting for you to answer his friend. His friend you thought, sighing loudly and realizing that you can’t act sour and mess this up for him. He meant too much for you and just because you couldn’t keep your legs shut doesn’t mean you should make his life miserable.

“No Kihyun, I don’t think we’ve ever crossed paths before. Trust me, I think I would’ve remembered.”

Your biting sarcasm went right over Changkyun’s head, his pure little mind too enveloped in his best friend and new friend finally properly communicating.

“No, no, I’m certain I’ve seen you before Y/N. Maybe on the news or something?” You gave him a dirty look, wondering where he was going with this.

“Kihyun, I don’t think Y/N knows you, she says she would’ve remembered you and I believe her. I mean, after all, you’re really handsome and you have bright pink hair that I think would be hard to forget.” Changkyun innocently interjected as he sipped on his drink.

He wasn’t wrong, that pink hair was definitely something you couldn’t toss out of your memory no matter how hard you tried. All you could think about was how you gripped it when he rammed you into the wall, tearing moans out from you. You pressed your thighs together, trying to put a stop to both your thoughts and feelings before you were too far gone. He wasn’t that good, was he?

Kihyun smirked again, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he began to speak again. “Oh! Now I remember! It was from something my friend Hoseok showed me, a picture from Instagram about this hot girl and her friends. You were on the side or something, I think.”

You knew exactly what photo he was talking about.

It was a stupid dare Changkyun made you do. The local sorority was hosting a car wash for “charity” and all the girls were wearing bathing suits under huge white t-shirts, soaked until they were see-through and clinging to their bodies. Changkyun had asked one of your friends who was in the sorority if you could join them, as you were just dying to help out the cause.

Next thing you knew, you were changed into your bathing suit and they had given you your shirt, already instructing you to wash some fuck boy’s huge pickup truck. Along with some of the other girls and your friend, who was much more attractive than you in your opinion.

You knew Changkyun and his friends were watching, hooting and hollering whenever one of the girls got soaked or when it was time to start rinsing a car. You felt completely out of your element but a couple of guys had complimented you as you worked on the truck, making you feel at least subpar to the other girls.

It was afterwards when the guy who owned the truck wanted a picture with all the girls who worked on it and you reluctantly lined up with the rest of them, your friend grabbing you close by the hip and telling you to relax and just smile. The picture had ended up all over social media, your friend reposting it on her own Instagram and tagging you in it.

This same friend had an on-again-off-again fuck buddy thing with a physical education major named Shin Hoseok, which was no doubt the same Hoseok that Kihyun had been talking about, who would of course have that picture saved on his phone.

You were beginning to realize that this world is far too small.

“Y/N I think he’s talking about the Mu Sigma Upsilon annual charity car wash that you helped out at! I told her to join them, she’s always so lame and boring that I dared her to do something interesting for once!” Changkyun boasted, not knowing just how adventurous you actually were, if having sex with a random guy in his apartment just an hour short of having an argument with him was anything to go by. “Didn’t she look smoking? The wet t-shirt look really works for her, if wasn’t so close to her, I’d tap that.”

Once again, you choked on your drink. Changkyun needed to learn how to use a damn filter. Or at least warn you before one of these times you do actually choke and die on your drinks. That’d be an interested tombstone for sure.

Before you could derail the conversation and steer it away from talk about you and your body in a wet tee, Changkyun gestured to Kihyun to scoot out of the booth to let him out. He excused himself to go off to the restroom and that left Kihyun and you sitting at the table awkwardly.

“So…” you began, hoping to ease the tangible unease that hung in the air.

“Would you ever do it again?”

You looked up at him and confusion struck your face, “I’m sorry?”

“You heard me.” He asserted himself, relaxing back into the booth and looking cockier than ever. You wanted to smack the damn smirk off his face. Or maybe get under the table and suck him off right then and there.

You really needed to stop.

A twinge of arousal shot between your legs and you closed them tight, needed to stamp out every one of your dirty thoughts before you really did something you’d regret. You cleared your throat as you tried to figure out how to answer his question. You assumed he was asking if you’d ever sleep with him again and your mind screamed for you to answer no but your body refused to leave it at that. If he gave the opportunity to hop on his lap and ride him until he broke, you weren’t sure you could reject such an offer. And that’s what truly scared you. No one ever got under your skin this much, usually you could get over it with a quick fuck or a night with your favorite vibrator. But here was this asshole with his smug grin and stupid hair that you wanted to tug on until he whined and begged you to take him all in. You wanted to abandon every belief system you had regarding one night stands, willing to toss out the rule book you had mentally created back in high school when you first started fooling around with the opposite sex.

“If I gave you one of my t-shirts, would you wear it to it?” Kihyun’s voice rang out, pulling you out of your thoughts and making you realize you had yet to answer him. But this follow-up question didn’t make any sense and just confused you further. What was he talking about ‘his t-shirt’?

Kihyun scoffed, looking off around the café before tearing his back off the booth to lean forward on the table, into your personal space. It obviously looked like he was trying to hide something, to keep it low enough that prying ears wouldn’t hear. “Are you deaf? Those car washes are annual, right? And you looked different enough to the point that I’d assume it was roughly about a year ago. So when they announce it, will you join again but this time wear my t-shirt?”

The words came as a surprise, not at all what you were expecting or imagining. He was insinuating he wanted to see you first hand, wearing something of his that’ll cling to your frame and give him plenty to imagine. Usually the girls’ boyfriends or boy toys would give the girls the shirt off their backs, a symbol of their possession on them. It was superficial at best but it was still really hot for both parties involved. And here was Kihyun, a man you barely knew and most likely despised, asking you to wear his shirt as if he owned you. The thought both offended and aroused you.

You were going to have whiplash by the end of the day just from your emotions whirling around your brain.

“As if. That’d mean I’m yours, which I most certainly am not.” You shook your head and tried to act as coolly as you could, trying to keep your body language from giving him the wrong message. The one that was begging him to take you right here and show everyone who you really belonged to.

He laughed at you. Literally laughed. Clearly you weren’t any good at hiding your true feelings.

Changkyun came back to the table and you silently thanked him for his timing but when you spared him a glance, you saw his entire front was soaking wet.

Kihyun saw as well and began, “Do I even want to ask?”

When Changkyun shook his head no, you started laughing at his misery, deciding it was karma for him befriending your douchebag hook-up. “What ‘Kyun, does your aim suck that much?” You teased, laughing louder when he only responded with a deadpan expression and a middle finger shot straight in your direction. You were going to milk this for all its worth and he certainly wasn’t going to live it down.

“Shut up Y/N. For your information, the damn urinal broke and sprayed me. Probably couldn’t believe how big I am.” He tried to save face by acting coy but you only laughed harder at the truth of the situation. Kihyun had joined you as well and Changkyun truly couldn’t believe that just a few minutes a lone with you already turned him evil.

Oh, if only he knew…

“Whatever, I need to head back to the apartment to shower and Kihyun and I have a class in like an hour so he can come with.”

That got you to shut your mouth. You knew it was too good to be true, fate never shown its bright light on you often and it rarely lasted long. You began to sputter, trying to find some semblance of an excuse to keep him away from your home, your safe haven, the one and only place he can’t attack you with his damned good looks or sinful hands. But all your efforts proved futile as Changkyun tossed you the keys to the car and demanded you drive.

As you walked to the car, you couldn’t help but feel eyes on the back of you, watching your every move. You don’t really know if it made you uncomfortable or if it just spurred on your ego, giving you something to be smug about. You weren’t Kihyun, you didn’t channel cocky energy like it’s nothing. Confidence alone was a tough issue for you, constantly feeling like less than those around you even though they’ve reassured you plenty of times that you’re pretty enough, smart enough, good enough.

The car ride was relatively quiet, as surprising as it was that Kihyun was capable of keeping his big mouth shut for longer than 2 seconds. Even when he had his mouth plenty occupied, he managed to make sounds and you knew that all too well. So you weren’t shy of impressed when you finally got home and unlocked the door to yet have heard a peep from the other boy.

Changkyun quickly invited in Kihyun, giving him a small tour and instructions on how to work the TV, giving him permission to eat whatever and watch whatever as long as he didn’t delete his Bewitched recordings. Why he loved that show so much was beyond you.

He left the room and you heard the shower head power on, a loud stream pelting the bathtub and indicating that Changkyun most likely already undressed and inside the shower already. You sighed and took off your coat, slumping down on your couch, as far as Kihyun as possible.

He smirked at your clear body language and how you were trying to avoid the inevitable. You were trapped in your small apartment with the man you loathed, the mere sight of him seething your blood and every nerve inside you, down to the bone. And you were still trying to act like you could just make him disappear if you ignore him long enough.

Unfortunately, that wonderful silence from earlier didn’t last much longer. It was nice was it lasted.

“So you never really answered my question. Just tell me the truth.”

The TV powered on as you tried to tune him out to the show selections you were trying to choose from.

He humphed and sat down on the couch next you, a little too close for comfort. “The silent treatment, huh? Listen, just get over yourself and realize you’re attracted to me. It’ll make things so much easier on you, trust me.”

“Trust you? Why in the ever loving fuck would I do that? What am I, some kind of mad woman?” You thought you could keep your head level but everything about Kihyun just made your blood boil and you couldn’t decide if it made you want him more or not.

“What’s your problem? You act like last night wasn’t good for you too. Last time I checked, you were crying out my name and working me like it was your damn job.”

You were going to kill him, no doubt about it.

“It was wrong! I barely know you and I knew you even less last night! It was such a dumb thing to do, I wasn’t thinking clearly. All I wanted was to go home with someone and have a good time and instead I got you and—“

“And? You had a good time, didn’t you? What’s it matter that it was with me? Looked to me like you were flirting with plenty of people last night, and I’m pretty sure you knew just about as much of them as you know of me.”

He had a point. And you hated that. You were at a loss for words, wanting not to be proven wrong because that meant he was right and that’d skyrocket his ego so high up you’d never be able to live it down.

“At least those people had manners, they were nice to me. You were just rude and callous and wrong. Everything that a woman should hate.”

“But?”

“What do you mean ‘but’? What I said is what I said.” You were seriously getting frustrated with this kid. How you were holding back from swinging was beyond you.

“Clearly you’re attracted to me, so obviously something about me makes up for all those bad things you think I am.” That damn smirk made a comeback, forever plastered on his flawless face. It just wasn’t fair.

“There is no ‘but’, you’re a terrible person. Period. Nothing about you is attractive and I certainly will not be doing a repeat of—“

“Oh my god, just shut up. Do us both a favor and get on my lap already.”

Air literally escaped your lungs at his words, leaving you speechless. Did you hear right? What is he talking about?

Just in that moment, you glanced over at his lap, finding it tented and obviously hiding his raging hard on. Why was he hard? You were literally just insulting him, he shouldn’t be getting hard over that? Just what was he implying?

“Don’t act like you don’t want it, c’mon. I’m hard for you so just do something already.”

This guy, thinking he had control over you like that. You wanted to hit him across the head, teach him that that’s’ not how you speak to woman and certainly not how you get on her good side. But he was just so stupidly tempting and his lap looked inviting, your libido from last night coming back to haunt you once more.

‘Just say no, say no Y/N’ You thought to yourself. But your body was a traitor to everything you believed in and all the sudden everything you were lecturing him on was out the window.

He reached for your wrist, tugging you onto him to straddle his lap. You’d be lying if you said you resisted. Not even a little bit. You should be ashamed at how quick was able to turn you into putty but the feeling of his clothed length against you made all your thoughts disappear in an instant.

He groaned and let his head fall back against the couch, finally feeling some sort of relief. His hands settled onto your hips, fingers digging into the material of your jeans. “Why, why of all things you probably own did you have to wear jeans today?” Kihyun griped, hands holding tighter as his hips began to move. You vaguely wondered what this would feel like without any clothes on but suddenly you felt pleasure erupt all over your nerve endings. You’d never been into dry humping before but the way his hips were circling into your own was something you could seriously get into.

Kihyun kept his noises at bay with a tight hold of his lip in-between his teeth, eyes focused on where your own crotch unconsciously grinding against him eagerly. Shame was long gone as now you just worried if he was going to make you come right here, on your couch in your jeans with your roommate just a door away.

You hadn’t even registered that you were being loud until one of Kihyun’s hands detached itself from your hips to slap over your mouth, effectively muffling your heavy breathing and hiccupped moans. He continued to circle his hips and gyrate against you, finally opening his mouth to talk again. He probably loved to hear himself talk, if you had to be honest. Not like you didn’t love it too. But he didn’t have to know that.

“God, you’re so fucking loud. As hot as that is sweetheart, you don’t want your roommate to come out here and see what a good little slut you are, right?” Muffled moans were the only response you could get out because you slipped down his legs a little and it placed his bulge right where you needed him the most. Your underwear was no doubt soaked by now as Kihyun fucked up into you, the very head of his cock rubbing tantalizing circles into your clit. The friction alone was getting you to edge, all dirty talk and potential voyeurism aside.

“Think you could come like this? Cream in your panties like the filthy girl I know you are?” Kihyun continued to attack you with his words, the mere mention of coming having you reeling. You wanted to come, so bad. At this point it didn’t matter how or where. Kihyun licked his lips and dove in to suck at the junction between your shoulder and neck, a secret spot that you were oddly sensitive in. The feeling of his plush lips latched made you buck harder into him. You felt him growl against your skin as his grip slipped down from your hip to your ass, coaxing you to move once more like you had before. The hand that was pressed against your mouth pulled away only for a second as Kihyun chose to shove two fingers inside instead.

You gagged on his fingers, the rough pads of his fingertips flat against your tongue all while he continued to push up against you. You were so close, at the very precipice of coming undone when Kihyun stopped, pulling away his hand from your mouth. He brought his hand down, finally giving you a chance to close your mouth and relish in how sore he already made your jaw. But he had also ceased his movements, making you cry out in frustration at just how close you were.

In response to your whine, Kihyun chuckled lowly, returning both hand to your hips to steady them as you continued to chase the high he had abruptly put a stop to. You stopped and tried to think rationally for a moment, now that you weren’t rutting against each other like horny teenagers. Maybe he had heard something, like Changkyun finishing up in the shower? You perked your ears and tried to focus on the sounds from the hallway restroom, only finding the shower still running and what seemed to be Changkyun loudly singing ‘Closer’ off-key.

So why’d he stop?

“Baby girl, do you really want to come?” Kihyun asked, bringing your attention back to him. You nodded violently, wanting nothing more in the moment. His eyes glinted with a predator-like lust that only served to fuel your libido. He smiled like that was the exact answer he wanted before he dove his hand down to the button of your jeans, swiftly undoing everything before unceremoniously shoving his hand down your pants. He rubbed his palm over your clothed core, your breath hitching at the abrupt touches to your sex.

It had been nearly a minute of you shamelessly grinding against his palm as he ran his tongue all over your sweet spot on your neck before he pushed your panties to the side and roughly shoved two fingers in without warning. You choked on a moan as his fingers fucked into you in a way that had you back on the edge in no time. He sat back and you followed, not wanting his fingers to slip out from inside you. Clearly he was making himself comfortable. You just didn’t know it was for the show you were about to give him.

The hand that wasn’t currently deep inside you came up to the nape of your neck, bringing your face in close to his. You thought he was pulling you in for a kiss so you pursed your lips until his mouth skimmed past your cheek to land right by your ear. You focused on his heavy breaths and unsteady breathing before he finally told you what he wanted. He gave you your ticket to come.

“Bounce on my fingers until you come. Now.”

You couldn’t say no to that, instantly acquiescing to his request. You rode his fingers, wondering dumbly just how deep you could get them inside you when he forced his hand upwards, giving you exactly what you needed. If he was a mind reader, it would explain just how he knew how much you got under his skin and how much you wanted to get under him.

Before you knew it, white-hot pleasure coursed through your body and you shook in his hold, muffling out your cries against his mouth. His tongue licked around yours, his hand coming up and gripping your hair tightly as he forced to continue fucking down on his fingers. He pulled harshly, making you head crane back and his tongue found itself running up from your clavicles up to your chin, all while he made his fingers continue to attack your now over-sensitive walls.

“You wanted to come so badly, now you’re gonna get to keep coming.” Kihyun whispered harshly against your ear, the air from his voice hitting the shell of your ear and making you shiver. His fingers didn’t let up, if anything it seemed like they got rougher. You wanted to cry, tears stinging the brim of your eyes as your core was being abused. The craziest part of all of this was how much you were enjoying it, despite the oversensitivity and humiliation of it all. His rough treatment and filthy words were making you wetter, as much as you hated to admit it.

Kihyun could tell though, you clenched hard around his fingers as he continued his heavy petting. “God, you’re so tight I don’t even know how you could be this damn tight. Can’t wait to get inside you again baby girl, gonna make it worth your while. It’s pretty nice to finally see your mouth not running like usual though, could get used to this.” Embarrassment rose at his words and you wished you had more self-control or willpower to put a stop it, to tell him you’re not just some sex object he can shut up and use whenever he pleased. You couldn’t tell him that because that’s precisely what you wanted.

With another sharp thrust of his fingers, he had you coming again, wrapped around his fingers as you held on tight to his shirt and cried against his neck. He let out a shuddered breath against the shell of your ear and finally pulled his fingers out of you. You couldn’t look up, mind still reeling as you tried to catch your breath with your face buried against him. You heard his mouth working by your ear and you instantly knew that he was tasting you on his fingers, the thought of him doing it made you keen against him. You whined into his ear and grinded down, his name a small whimper on your lips before Kihyun’s hands flew to your waist to keep you pressed down against him.

His hips stuttered against you, small but powerful thrusts as he kept you pressed taut against him. You registered his movements and sounds, realizing that he was coming in his pants just as you did just prior. Pride gleamed on your face as you pulled back to see his expression, obviously fucked out from coming the way he did. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back, not caring that you were staring at him in both awe and satisfaction.

His skin was glowing from what you’d assume was the sex, you wondered if you ever looked that good after a round or two of sex. Kihyun just smiled, his eyes still closed while his hands softly ran circles in the junction of your hips, a small sliver of skin exposed between your top and pants. You decided to play a risky game, as if you weren’t already, and leaned forward to give him a chaste peck to the lips. Pulling back immediately, you were met with wide eyes, Kihyun’s cute dumbfounded face looking like a small hamster’s. You giggled at your genius comparison and stored away the name for later insults.

The sound of the bathroom door clicking open had you flying off Kihyun’s lap, both you and him speedily trying to make yourselves presentable and not like you had hypothetical sex right there on the couch. You tapped Kihyun on the shoulder to silently ask if you looked decent, his response a simple thumbs up and gesturing to himself to ask the same question to you. While he did looked fucked out and gorgeous, you figured Changkyun would brush past it, already admitting how pretty Kihyun effortlessly was. But at you brought your gaze lower, you were met with a dark spot on his jeans and your eyes widened at the sight. You tossed him a pillow and he hastily covered himself, just in time as Changkyun came out with a towel slung around his hips.

“Hey, I’m just gonna get dressed and then we can go, okay?” Kihyun smiled and nodded, trying to look as casual as one could be with come sticking inside his underwear. “You guys were okay while I was gone? I didn’t hear much.”

You and Kihyun exchanged glances, knowing full and well just how loud you two had really been but it was a dirty little secret for you to keep so you simply shrugged.

“It was probably hard to hear over your terrible singing. Which by the way dude, we’re gonna get complaints from the neighbors.” Changkyun flicked you off again and claimed he was ‘the best singer’ despite how true it was that you’ve gotten complaints about some shrill sounding animal dying inside your apartment just a few too many times.

After Changkyun returned to his bedroom, you let out a laugh. Mostly out of relief, due to your very incriminating situation. Kihyun let out a few small laughs himself, the kinds that make you stop and stare. It made you want more than this, than just rough fucks in wrong places. But you knew better than that and you stopped them quickly, getting up to shaky legs. Kihyun watched as you took small steps, your legs clearly an unreliable source as they betrayed your wish to walk.

“Nice moves Y/N, is that a new fad?”

You threw the nearest pillow at him as you passed the couch, “Actually it is asshole, haven’t you ever heard of Ariana Grande’s ‘Side to Side’?”

“Yeah but that’s from actual fucking, you’re just weak in the knees because how good my fingers are.”

“Listen here jackass, I’m getting up to help you. Try not to regret being so rude to me.” You retorted as you reached the coat rack by your front door, where Kihyun hung his coat when you all arrived. Luckily it was a long trench coat, not to heavy so he wouldn’t be sweating bullets later on but just enough to close up over the front of his pants until he could get a chance to change. You tossed it at him, landing it square over his head and you watched in amusement as he freaked out, arms flailing at the foreign object attacking him. After a miniature struggle with his own jacket, he finally was able to fight it off his head and glare at you before letting out a small grumble that suspiciously sounded like thank you.

It’d pass for now. Next you’d make him make it up to you.

If there was a next time, that is.

Changkyun came out of his room and beckoned Kihyun to follow him, waving goodbye to you and telling you what he wanted for dinner tonight. You returned to your usual witty banter with your best friend and watched as he left with Kihyun. Not before Kihyun could give you a wink before closing the door behind him, telling you to lock up.

God you hated him and you especially hated what he did to your body. No matter how amazing it felt.

#mxnetwork #mxwriters #kreativewritersnet #kihyuknet #kihyun #yoo kihyun #kihyun imagine #kihyun x reader #monsta x #monsta x imagines #monsta x scenarios #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #mx #mx:kh

[tsaritsa]

the healers have the bloodiest hands

this fic can also be found on ff.net and ao3

I have survived, but I have not been spared. - Catherynne M. Valente

In the months following the end of the Ishvallan Civil War, both Hawkeye and Mustang come to grips with the choices they have made, and will need to make.

Rebecca Catalina was everything Riza Hawkeye was not. Their personalities, sense of fashion, upbringing, even their colouring were extreme opposites. Rebecca was warm and vivacious and untameable where Riza was muted and plain and reserved. It was a surprisingly soothing balm in the wake of the Ishvallan Civil War and the atrocities that had occurred and the individual ones that she had caused. It was a balm Riza didn’t think she needed in the beginning.

However, the sheer amount of suicides and attacks on military encampments from disenfranchised citizens and soldiers alike had ushered in a new policy when it came to dealing with the shell-shocked returning soldiers. A buddy system had been established, with less working hours and more individual therapy allotted to each veteran soldier – it was not the best system, but it was a hell of a lot better than what they had in place before (which was nothing, if the rumours were to be believed).

Rebecca had not been in the thick of the war – though she certainly had the talent to be considered. She wasn’t particularly fond of talking about her work in general, Riza found, instead preferring to focus on the gossip at the training barracks and dragging Riza out to bar after bar in her apparently never-ending quest to find a wealthy young man to marry so that she could quit her ‘boring job’.

It was exhausting, but Riza rather suspected that was the point. It wasn’t enough though – nothing would be enough to rid her of the guilt that ran as deep as the ink in her skin. She could feel the stress creeping upon her now, though – it had been nearly a month since she had returned from Ishval, a month since she had last seen Mr Mustang (who, if Eastern City Command rumours were to be believed, was assembling a hand-picked team to work under his command). It had been a month since she had asked him to burn her back, but he had all but disappeared from the face of the earth.

“Well, duh,” Rebecca said, rolling her eyes as she began digging into her rare steak. “Technically we’re still in training. We’ve got like, what, five months left? He would want an experienced team, right?”

Riza shrugged, picking at her chicken pasta with disinterest. “Who’s to say we’re not as experienced as others? Hell, most of the senior officers weren’t even at Ishval. It just seems a little strange, that’s all.”

“He’s a guy, Riza. I wouldn’t expect too much of him,” Rebecca replied dismissively, pouring herself another beer from the jug between them. “Besides, I thought you were mad at him because he broke a promise with you?”

Riza sighed, putting down her cutlery and resting her head in her hands. “It’s a bit more than just a promise, Rebecca,” she said wearily. “Bar the girls I went through boarding school with-” – “explains a lot,” Rebecca muttered under her breath – “-there wasn’t really anybody else I was friends with – we weren’t a very popular family where I grew up – and he sorted out my father’s funeral arrangements; he didn’t have to do that. He…” she stumbled a little here, “he’s a good person. Not entirely heartless like you’ve painted him out to be.”

“But now you’ve got me,” Rebecca said simply. “I don’t mean to walk all over your complicated history with the man but it’s not just you and him against the world now, yeah? You can rely on me as well. I’m not going to try and replace him – wouldn’t want to, alchemy is ridiculous – but you need to stop being so hard on yourself. The war was shit – but you’re coping, yeah? You’ve got me. Maybe he isn’t doing so well, y’know?”

Riza nodded, not trusting herself to speak as she felt her eyes prickling. For all the reservations she had going in to this essentially military-mandated forced friendship, Rebecca was a breath of fresh air that Riza desperately needed.

“Anyway,” Rebecca continued, laying her cutlery neatly down and reaching out for her hands, grasping them tightly. “It’s not like you to sit around and wallow. Why don’t you find him and talk to him if you’re so desperate to clear the air?”

“What, at work? Yeah, that’d work out wonderfully,” she replied sarcastically, carefully removing her hands from Rebecca’s and speared some chicken onto her fork.  

“Better than you just sitting here and moping about it,” Rebecca retorted, frowning. “I won’t force you, Riza. But you won’t be happy until you sort this out, yeah?”

Riza nodded, chewing on her chicken thoughtfully. “Would it even make a difference?” she asked after swallowing her mouthful.

“You seem to think so, otherwise you wouldn’t bring it up,” Rebecca replied, shifting her chips into the puddle of gravy on her plate. “I honestly think you should just take the bull by the horns and talk to him yourself – he might be too scared to talk to you – I was, in the beginning-”

“Rebecca!” Riza laughed, scandalised. “I wasn’t that bad!”

“You were awful,” Rebecca shot back, grinning widely. “The rumours were growing worse by the day and by the time you had turned up I was certain I was going to die the minute I spoke to you!”

Riza buried her head in her hands, shaking with laughter. “Let me guess,” she managed, after a long drink of beer. “Those rumours have only grown worse as well.”

Rebecca nodded, shoving gravy-ladden chips into her mouth. “But now they fear me too,” she said, swallowing. “So I’ll let you off for taking ten years of my life in unneeded stress.”

Riza ducked her head, hiding a smile. She might not enjoy every night she was dragged out by Rebecca – but there were always exceptions, and tonight was proving to be one of them. She mentioned this to the dark-haired woman, who only smiled beguilingly in return, fluttering her eyelashes obnoxiously.

“So you’ll think about it, yeah?” she asked, finishing the rest of her beer. “Or better yet, actually agree and say ‘sure Riza, whatever you say’-”

Riza held up her hands in surrender. “Fine, fine, I will think about it but I swear if you start ‘accidentally’ dragging me towards East Command then-”

Rebecca suddenly shushed her, holding up a finger and looked past her for a second, eyes narrowing. “I don’t think that’s going to be an issue, Riza. I think he just walked into the bar.”

She craned her neck past the partition that separated the booths apart. “Speak of the devil,” she murmured. It was unmistakably him – he always looked so confident even when he simply standing. There was a pretty brunette thing on his arm, her curls flawlessly arranged and her dress screaming of wealth. They looked good together, Riza noted, a heavy feeling settling low in her gut.

Rebecca must have seen the look on her face. “Do you want to go?” she asked softly, reaching for her hand and squeezing it lightly. “My mate Amber’s dog had puppies a few weeks ago – we could drop in and visit them?”

“No, it’ll be okay,” she replied a little hoarsely, squeezing back. “I just didn’t expect him to appear quite so suddenly like th-”

“You look like you’re going to hurl. C’mon – I’ll cover dinner tonight.”

Her shoulders slumped, and Riza nodded, suddenly exhausted. “I’ll go grab our coats,” she said quietly, scooting out from the booth. “I’ll meet you outside?”

“Yup. See you in a sec.” There was a warm hand on her shoulder, and then Rebecca disappeared towards the bar in a flurry of riotous dark curls.

She was walking past the main bar when she heard a voice call out.

“Riza?”

fuckfuckfuckityfuckityfuckfuc-

She froze, and turned slowly, a pained smile growing on her face as the dark-haired man quickly caught up to her, an unidentifiable look on his face.

“Mr Mustang,” she said as way of greeting, avoiding his eyes as much as she could. “I didn’t realise you were here.”

Mustang raked a hand through his hair, messing it up awfully. Even like this he was still achingly familiar – the awkward apprentice who had snuck out to shoot rounds with her when her father wasn’t paying attention. “Aurélie had said that this place came well-recommended for the food.”

“It certainly is. Is she one of your ‘sisters’?” Riza asked carefully, trying to ignore the curling in her gut. He still smelled the same, for crying out loud. All warmth and the soap that reminded her of earl grey tea. Mustang shook his head, suddenly looking as uncomfortable as she felt. “Ah – no, but she went to the same school that Vanessa and Brigit went to. She’s not involved in the ‘family business’, so to speak.”

She tried her hardest not to grimace. “I see. I won’t delay you any further, I’m sure your date will be wondering where you have gotten to-”

“Riza, I-”

“Riza!” Rebecca cried out, linking their arms together and eyeing up Mustang suspiciously with a raised eyebrow. “I thought you were grabbing our coats?”

Mustang smiled apologetically. “Ah, I believe that’s my fault, Miss...?”

“Catalina,” Rebecca supplied briskly. “Is he bothering you?” she asked bluntly, turning to Riza. She laughed a little at the indignant look on Mustang’s face.

“No, he was a pupil of my father’s. I hadn’t seen him for a while. It was nice to see you again, Mr Mustang,” she said, schooling her features to stay neutral.

Mustang looked positively bewildered as Rebecca firmly towed Riza away towards the cloakroom, only relaxing once they were outside in the cool night air.

“You okay?” Rebecca asked, shoving her hands deeps into her pockets, shivering slightly at the sudden temperature change. Riza sighed and nodded her head.

“That didn’t go as badly as it could have,” she mumbled, wrapping her scarf tightly around her neck.

“He was on a date, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she replied shortly. “A legitimate one too, not with one of his ‘sisters’. Her name was Aurélie.” The name curled around her tongue sourly. “Pretty young thing like her is only interested in him because he’s a war hero.”

Rebecca shuffled uneasily, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “He didn’t look awfully pleased with how coolly you brushed him off.”

Riza rolled her eyes. “He’s used to attention. I doubt it was because of me personally.”

Rebecca pursed her lips, looking like she was going to say something before shrugging, dropping the matter. “If you say so. Puppies?”

Riza nodded, shivering against the cold. “Puppies.”

The next few weeks passed uneventfully. Rebecca and Riza continued their training at the academy – by this point it was just sitting in a room and listening to an old man drone on and on about military regulations and where to stick your complaints if you had any. It wasn’t a particularly interesting or intensive part of her day, but nonetheless she’d come back to the dorm she shared with Rebecca and would immediately fall asleep on her bed, waking up hours later when the sun was setting and a sick feeling deep in her gut.

All thoughts of contacting Mustang were ignored, even as she could feel the ink on her back prickle uncomfortably. Rebecca had dropped the matter, for now, but Riza knew it was only a matter of time before her stubbornness would prevail. To be honest, she was surprised that the topic hadn’t been brought up before now – but Riza wasn’t going to complain.

It was easier than the confrontation she knew was coming.

Every other Thursday she had a mandatory therapy session, which was more trouble than it was worth, in Riza’s opinion. Doctor Petyr Gower was an awkward man who clearly was out of his depth – by Riza’s reckoning he was only a couple of years older than her, and obviously had little practical experience. He apparently had no idea how to talk to another human – or how to approach a conversation with someone suffering nightmares and near-crippling anxiety. He would be better suited as an interrogator rather than as a doctor she thought, sitting down opposite him in the small room that served as his practice – every time she spoke with him she felt more stressed rather than comforted (something Riza was fairly certain wasn’t meant to happen).

“You seem happier than the last time we spoke,” Dr Gower commented, adjusting his tie as he sat down, notebook and pen in hand.

“Last week wasn’t too bad. I went out for dinner with a friend.” She shifted in the uncomfortable chair, twisting her fingers. This room always smelled like cigarettes and a fake floral scent that was more cloying than relaxing. She supposed it was like the smell of newly-stained wood – if you spent enough time with it, you didn’t notice the pungency anymore.

It just gave her a headache and made her feel ill.

“Are you finding it easier to deal with larger crowds of people in public now?” Dr Gower asked, scratching his neck.

Riza thought for a moment before answering. “I suppose so. East City isn’t really a place well-known for crowds, though.”

“I suppose not,” Dr Gower replied, writing down something in his notebook. “But for the sake of a hypothetical scenario, how would you fare if I put you on a train to Central right now?”

“I wouldn’t get on the train,” she answered firmly.

There was an awkward silence as Dr Gower wrote down some more in his notebook. The chair she was sitting in had somehow become even more uncomfortable.

“I see you’re wearing your mother’s ring again, Miss Hawkeye.”

Riza paused in her fiddling of the diamond halo, looking up at Dr Gower.

“It’s a nice ring,” she replied absently. “It was one of the few things I could find of hers after she died. My family wasn’t particularly wealthy.”

Dr Gower made some notes. “You don’t usually wear it on your left hand, however. Should I be congratulating you?”

Riza sighed. “There have been a couple of times where men don’t quite understand the meaning of ‘I’m not interested, thank you’ – a ring apparently does a far better job than I can.”

“Have you found yourself in that situation more often than you would like?”

Riza scoffed a little. “No lady likes to be harassed, Dr Gower. And the illusion is nice – people treat you differently if they think your attention is always focused on somebody else. They’re more likely to be themselves.”

“Do you think people are lying to you, Miss Hawkeye?”

“People always lie. They lie about how they feel, they lie about you, they lie to you and you both know but accept it anyway. The idea of honesty is a carefully constructed lie. Even here-” she gestured to the doctor, to the room they were in “-you say that what we talk about is utterly confidential, but we both know you have to report to my higher-ups to make sure I won’t go off my head. Can’t have any more casualties, can we?”

“You must know that is simply not true, Miss-”

“It is, Dr Gower. Please don’t piss on me and tell me it’s raining.”

The doctor made some more notes. “Do you always distrust people so?” he asked quietly. “It must be exhausting to be on edge all the time.”

Riza shrugged noncommittally. “It’s not that hard. Lowered expectations are easier to achieve, harder to fail.” She stopped here, fiddling with the antique diamond ring once more. “You weren’t there Dr Gower, you don’t understand – you will never understand. We were fed lies at every turn. I killed people and I felt good about it. If I start being honest with myself, I won’t be here much longer, I can assure you that much.”

There was a strained silence and Dr Gower made some furiously scribbled notes. “Has the medication I prescribed for you not working?”

“It doesn’t feel like anything. Is it meant to work that way?”

The man sighed. “It will not be a replacement for your emotions. It’s not designed to be-”

“Some days I can’t feel anything, doctor,” she replied bitterly. “And I don’t know if I want to anymore.”

There was a pause. “Why?”

“If I…” she sighed, twisting her fingers together almost painfully. “I don’t want to feel what I am feeling, doctor. I get dizzy all the time, and I want to sleep but it’s never restful. I have nightmares where I am literally drowning in all the blood I spilled. Would you want to feel that?”

She glanced up at Dr Gower, who was looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face. “Of course not, Miss Hakweye. But you feel the guilt, don’t you?” he asked simply. “You want to feel it because you think you are guilty but you don’t want to feel it because it hurts to do so. This is normal for returning soldiers, Miss Hakweye-”

“Of course I don’t want to feel the guilt!” she cried out, flinging out her arms. “Who would ever want to? But I should-”

“You need to calm down Miss-”

“SHUT UP!” she screamed, standing up, her back suddenly feeling like it was on fire. “YOU WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND HOW IT FEELS TO SHOOT AND KILL INNOCENT PEOPLE! I HAVE KILLED CHILDREN AND FELT GOOD ABOUT IT! GOOD! I HAVE KILLED HUNDREDS UPON THOUSANDS OF ISHVALLANS BECAUSE I THOUGHT I WAS PROTECTING-”

The doctor was suddenly next to her and she felt the sharp prick of a needle in her arm and she tried to jerk back but it was too late – the man was surprisingly strong for his stature and she could feel her throat closing up, the over-white room was swimming before her eyes and there were so many voices and hands on her and she was drowning she was drowning shewasdrowninginbloodandmarrowand –

She woke up in a dimly-lit room, a thin blanket draped over her, and the overwhelming smell of antiseptic.

“Hey, you’re up” a voice said to her right.

“Roy?” she asked groggily, turning slightly in the bed towards the source of the voice.

“Guilty as charged,” he replied a little sheepishly, sitting up a bit straighter in the chair next to the bed she was in. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t wake up at all.”

Riza frowned, trying to see his face in the dark room. “What do you mean? Where- where am I?”

There was a beat before he answered her, not meeting her eyes. “You’re at the Parkview General – nearby Auntie Lee’s Bakery, the one with the good custard squares. What do you remember?”

She struggled with words for a moment. “I was with Doctor Gower and- I fainted?”

“He thinks you had a panic attack,” Mustang replied carefully, adjusting his cufflinks. “They had to give you a sedative – so he said. You don’t generally faint when you’re having a panic attack but –” He stopped himself, sighing and shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. You’ve been out for a while.”

“How long?”

“Eleven hours, I think. It’s three-fifty in the morning.”

“What?” she cried out, jerking up into a sitting position, pain shooting through her torso as she suddenly twisted her body. “Why on ea-”

He placed a hand on her arm to stall her movements, shushing her while glancing to the door. “Hey hey, easy, Riza, easy. Don’t want the night nurse coming in here. I might get kicked out.”

She looked at him properly then, eyes having adjusted to the low light in the room. “Why are you here, Mr Mustang?” she asked, accepting a pillow from him and hugging it slightly. He frowned a little at the use of his last name, hands fiddling with his gloves.

“To make a long story short, I was in a meeting with your grandfather when he got the news. It didn’t take me long to put two and two together.” Mustang ducked his head a little, rubbing at his eyes.

Riza narrowed her eyes in confusion. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re here now.”

A nervous smile came across his face. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumours about me getting my own team out here at East-” she nodded slowly, “and it was during these talks that your grandfather heard from the hospital. We were actually discussing you, at the time.”

“Why?”

He looked at her, a little bemused. “Those drugs must’ve really knocked you,” he said, fondness seeping into his tone. “For my team. I’ll need a personal adjutant.”

“Why me, though?” she asked, shaking her head a little. It felt like there was cotton wool in her head, muffling sound and making it hard to concentrate.

“Why wouldn’t I have you? You know me best out of anybody I know – you’d keep me honest amongst all the wolves. Besides,” he continued, shifting in the uncomfortable-looking hospital-issued chair. “It’s all theoretical at the moment – I won’t presume to know what you want to do once you’ve finished your training. But it’s your decision, in the end. You don’t have to decide for a while yet.”

She was silent for a moment, counting her heartbeats and willing herself not to cry. This was not the confrontation she wanted – all hushed whispers and fond looks, like nothing had happened since he was shipped off to war. She could almost remember the warmth of his hands and the feeling of those hands – covered in blood and still dripping, tracing over the words of her back and the ink and blood mixing and seeping and-

She bit her tongue and took a deep breath, wincing a little at the sharp scent of lemon in the antiseptic. First breath to remember to breathe; second breath to remember who you are; third breath to remember where you are. “So you know about Grandfather,” she began quietly.

“Yeah. I feel like an idiot in retrospect though – I think I gave him way too much ammunition when it comes to us. He- the General asked me if I would stay behind to keep an eye on you.” He broke off, leaning forwards towards her. “I remember you saying that you were estranged from your relatives. Did he find you?”

Riza nodded. “He found out at the end of the war, when he was signing the promotions that were being given out to everyone. Apparently my mother eloped with my father and they lost contact. Grandfather didn’t approve of him. He didn’t even know I existed until my promotion came through.”

“Hell of a reveal,” he murmured. “He seems very fond of you, but he thought it would be better if I stayed here overnight. The day nurses said it was likely you could wake up a bit disorientated – they thought a familiar face would be appreciated.”

Riza nodded slowly, fingers gripping the edges of the pillow she was holding tightly. “Thank you,” she said quietly, willing herself to calm her breathing. The next sentence was vomited out before she could stop it. “Does Aurélie mind that you’re here?”

He at least had the good grace to look properly guilty, bowing his head and laughing awkwardly.

“That was an idea of Maes’,” he began, rubbing the nape of his neck, avoiding her eyes. “He thought a civilian would do me some good. Get my mind off – y’know-”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know, Mr Mustang. You’ll need to enlighten me. I was under the impression I had done something wrong – I don’t hear from you for a month and then you turn up here like nothing is wrong?”

He sighed. “Yeah, I’ve been an arse about that – the whole- everything. I just…I’m sorry.” He glanced up at her, properly meeting her gaze for the first time since she had woken. “Truly. I shouldn’t have called out to you that night. You didn’t look happy to see me. I should have been in contact sooner but I got busy and-” he cut himself off and shook his head. “Excuses won’t make any difference. I fucked up, and I’m sorry.”

Well. “I think I was more surprised than anything,” she responded quickly. “But I guess I wasn’t very happy to see you as well. And it’s not- I shouldn’t have expected you to act better than me. I haven’t been well – and neither have you.” The bags under his eyes were easy to see now, his shoulders betraying exhaustion and she could tell even from here he was trying his hardest to put on a brave front. “We’re still both idiots.”

He smiled thinly. “You’re too easy on me,” he replied quietly. He reached for her hand and for a split second she considered pulling away – but the moment passed and his hand was warm and familiar in hers and Riza couldn’t help but relax a little.

“What else did grandfather say?”

“Not much else,” he replied, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. It was so familiar a gesture she could almost forget where they were, surrounded by antiseptic and the hushed sounds of a hospital early in the morning. “He was definitely worried about you, but there were a lot of people around. I guess he just wanted to treat you like any other soldier in his care.”

Riza nodded. “I don’t think we’ll ever be comfortable with one another…but that’s okay. I’m not sure I could deal with somebody claiming to be family and suddenly inserting themselves into my life.”

“Have you talked?”

“A little. He wanted to know about mum.” She shifted on the bed, crossing her legs and shrugging off the thin blanket. “She ran away when she was nineteen with father, but I was too young to really remember her – he didn’t realise she was dead. I think he was expecting it – but he still cried. It was quite…strange.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Roy commented.

Riza laughed quietly, letting go of his hold to stretch her arms over her head. “His intentions are good. I just wish he had tried to find us earlier.”

Roy made a noise of agreement, leaning back in the chair. “Tell me something,” he began, resting his head on his hand. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“What?”

Roy gestured to the room. “Do you want to get out of the hospital? That doctor of yours was talking about all sorts of tests he wanted done on you – none of them sounded very nice. We could make a run for it if you want.”

“Tell me you’re joking,” she replied, sitting up a little straighter.

“I’m deadly serious. Aunt Chris has got a saloon near here that she’s managing at the moment. You could have a shower, some nice food – a bed that doesn’t look like it came out of a horror serial.”

“How would we even get out?” she asked, frowning and crossing her arms over her chest. “There’ll still be staff here.”

“Way I came in – the back entrance. I think it’s just meant for employees but it’ll be the skeleton crew here anyway. We’ve got-” he checked his pocket watch, “-about ten minutes before they come to check on you again.”

“What’s the time now?” she asked.

“Nearly four-thirty,” he replied, standing up. “You in?”

She looked at him carefully, with his hand outstretched and a warm smile on his face. “You won’t take ‘no’ for an answer, will you?” she asked, trying her best not to smile.

His smile grew. “You know me too well. I’ll make you pancakes.”

She finally nodded, and took his hand, grasping it tightly. “Roy, if we get caught by a nurse it’s all on you,” she warned, trying to ignore the dizziness as she stood up suddenly, blood rushing back into her legs. He kissed her knuckles softly, before grabbing his coat from the chair and placing it on her shoulders.

“We’ve never been caught before, and I don’t plan on starting now,” he murmured, linking his hand with hers. “Let’s go.”

Their escape, in the end wasn’t that interesting – it was simply a matter of getting to the emergency stairwell and then slipping out a side door into the cold, frosty morning. The sky was becoming lighter and Riza could hear the birds beginning to waken, their faint songs echoing in the streets. It had been a quick drive to the saloon and she had wound down the window and leant her head on her arm, enjoying the cool air in her face. Little pleasures like these were becoming increasingly rare in her life, she realised with a sinking feeling in her gut. Maybe Rebecca had been right about some stuff.

The girls who were on the night shift at the saloon greeted them with warm smiles and drinks – Riza sat at the bar with Claudia and a cup of strong tea while Roy tried to rustle up some pancakes. Claudia was a sweet young thing – long golden blonde hair and a smile that was well-practiced in hiding secrets and intentions. She had fussed over Riza the most when they had arrived, all but dragging her into a shower and making sure she was wearing at least three layers of wool before letting her back into the saloon proper.

“He has been so worried about you,” Claudia said to her softly as she finished shaping her nails – apparently they had looked ‘awful’ and she wouldn’t stand for a potential hangnail to appear. “Like a duckling without his mother – it drove the Madame quite batty.”

“Really?” Riza asked, withdrawing her hands from Claudia’s and wrapped them around the mug of steaming tea.

Claudia nodded. “We knew the war was bad for everyone involved but-” her voice became all but a whisper, “- I’d never seen him quite this bad before. I won’t pretend to understand what you’ve had to endure but – I hope for both your sakes that you won’t go ignoring each other anymore. I don’t think the Madame could take it.”

Riza laughed a little shakily. “We needed the space but…” she struggled for words here – she herself didn’t quite understand what had changed between them but deep down she knew it had been necessary. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” she said finally, taking a sip of tea.

Claudia pursed her lips. “I guess not. You’re here now, no?”

Roy appeared then, with a plate full of pancakes and bacon. “You hungry Claudia?” he asked, ducking under the bar for a moment before surfacing with cutlery and plates. Claudia smiled indulgently. “I couldn’t say no to any of your cooking, Roy,” she replied, winking at Riza. They ate in companionable silence – the other girls that were working had dropped in to nick a fewpancakes of their own before disappearing once more – before Claudia wandered off to see if the Madame wanted any before they were gone. It was just past five in the morning, and the rising sun’s light was filtering through the front windows of the saloon, drenching the bar in  a hundred shades of yellow and gold.

“You okay?” Roy asked quietly, cleaning up the used cutlery and placing them in the washing bucket. “You’re not regretting it already, are you? Leaving hospital?”

Riza shook her head, trying to stifle a yawn. “I’m just…thinking.”

“May I ask what?”

She passed him the empty mug of tea, her eyes meeting his. “Was she ever an option?”

He stilled, before smiling wanly and leant his arms on the bar. “Of course not,” he murmured, carefully tracing her fingers with his own. “I was hurting. We all were. You had asked me to do the impossible and-” he raked a hand through his hair, mussing it up terribly. “It was nice to pretend that I wasn’t me, even for a few hours. Be without the power that you gave me – that you asked of me. But I chose this path,” he continued, grasping her hands firmly with his own. “For better or worse I chose it and I will not disrespect you any longer. As hard as that will be for more.”

Roy exhaled heavily, moving from behind to bar to meet her in front of it. “I have been researching what I will need to get rid of,” he began, squeezing her hands tightly. “Thankfully it will not be a lot. But it will be – the burns – they will have to be deep. There is every chance this could kill you.”

Riza smiled warmly, moving one of her hands out of his to cup his face gently. “You won’t,” she said confidently. “I trust you.”

He sobbed a little at this, shoulders trembling before he crumpled in her arms, his whole body wracked with sobs and shaking like a leaf. It was a while before she felt she could move under his weight, guiding him to the piano stool at the side of the bar.

Riza opened the lid to the piano carefully, fingers caressing the ivory keys and inhaled deeply. Roy’s arm had snaked around her waist and his face was buried into her neck, whispering words over her skin.

It had been years since she had last played the piano – the one in the house had gone out of tune a long time ago and getting it re-tuned had never been a priority. This one was beautiful. It gleamed and glinted in the early morning sun.

She hesitated, before beginning an old piece she remembered from long ago.

the piece Riza plays is Henryk Pachulski’s Opus 8, No. 1, Prélude in C minor.

#fma fanfiction #royai #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #rebecca catalina #fullmetal alchemist #fma #my fanfic #angst ahoy