#Can’t get your crush to like you? Easy—just date their cousin that looks exactly like them

[bubsgirl291]

Feloe

Because I just discovered this ship, and it’s kinda everything.

@that-octavian’s post introduced me to it and I am now obsessed

[yeojaa]

( NEVER LET YOU GO. )

You do things without thought, making impulse decisions that’d make Freud proud.  Sometimes they pay off, sometimes they don’t.

(or:  Jeon Jungkook’s just as impulsive as you.)

pairing.  tattoo artist!jjk x f!reader.

genre + rating.  slice of life fluff, light smut.  explicit (but only at the end). 

tags / warnings.  mentions of heavily tattooed!JK, casual drinking, tender lovemakin’, JK with the bad jokes, honestly just him being funny and chill like that one guy you never get over...

wc.  7.6k.

beta reader(s).  @hobi-gif​, @papillonsgf​, and @yeoldontknow​​ 💛 ty for always indulging me and most importantly, supporting me when i begin to spiral. 🤠

author note.  i got this idea into my head one evening in the shower and now... it is this.  it’s not your usual bad boy tattoooist!JK fic but i hope you enjoy regardless.  as always, feedback means a lot! 

You and forethought aren’t close friends.  You really aren’t even distant cousins, or part of the same family tree.  You consider it a stranger, wave loftily as it passes you by, squinting like you can’t properly make out what it is.  Careful consideration?  Thoughtful patience?  None of that exists for you.  At least, not when you really, really want something. 

It’s what has you here now, bumbling your way into the tattoo shop like a newborn baby bird.  

You wonder how it must look, whether the shop assistant is used to this.  Random girl shows up on a Sunday afternoon looking like a fish out of water, eager yet afraid.  By how she greets you - with a curious stare and not quite a smile - you’re sure she is.  

“Do you take walk-ins?”

You’d meant to make an appointment.  Had sat for hours on the shop’s Instagram page, combing through the residents’ portfolios, trying to decide who to reach out to.  When you’d finally decided, you’d realised books were a thing and most of them were closed.  (Just your luck.)

Still, it never hurt to try, right? 

“Everyone’s fully booked.”  The girl sounds bored, apathetic yet genial.  (You don’t blame her.)  By the way her stare swings over you, it feels like a dismissal.  You’re ready to admit defeat - head half-bowed, words draped over your tongue.  “But our apprentice might be able to squeeze you in.”

An apprentice?  Well— that’s not exactly what you’d been hoping for, but this shop is reputable.  Well-known.  Considered one of the best in the city.  Surely their apprentice would be fine.  Just less seasoned, not as experienced. 

You all but snap your neck nodding along, gratitude tumbling out in the form of awkward laughter.  “That’d be great!”

The girl passes you off with a nod of her head, gesturing down the hall.  “Last room on the left.  His name’s Jungkook.  His schedule says he’s all clear, but maybe knock before you go in.”  It’s not the sunniest smile you’ve ever received, but the small thing she offers helps with the nerves.  Stills them beneath your skin as you do as you’re told. 

“Jungkook?”  There’s not really anywhere to knock, every wall neatly frosted glass and no doors in sight.  (You had passed a few folding screens but otherwise, it’s open concept, each room offering a glimpse into the artist who works inside.)  It feels too disruptive to tap your knuckles on one glass pane, lest it interrupt someone else. 

(His studio is minimally decorated but inviting:  one big cabinet; two of those typical IKEA shelves in the 4x4 grid that every new homeowner and their mother have; and a shop table, upon which a black backpack sits.  Various plants dress the room - both hanging from the ceiling and along the window - and Polaroids string over walls, held aloft by twine.  A Roomba sits by itself in a corner and the tattoo bed dominates most of the space, positioned closer to the dividing wall;  one teeny tiny rolling chair sits beside it.  There’s a bench on your left, with a pair of Birkenstocks tucked beneath.  All in all, very homey.  Reminiscent of your own apartment.) 

Hidden behind the bed, crouched low to the ground beside the cabinet, is a head of dark hair that speaks, drawing your attention from studying the cozy space.  “Oh?”

You’re not expecting the face that turns to you, all big doe eyes and the sweetest dimples. 

For a moment, you forget what you’re here for.  Why you’re standing in the empty door frame, staring down at the guy like you’ve spent your entire life secluded and have no idea how to speak.  

The longer you’re quiet, the more his concern seems to grow, single brow disappearing into his inky fringe.  It hangs in his vision at certain angles, shields the brightness of his stare with each turn of his chin.  “Are you okay?”  He’s even risen - stopped what he was doing - so he can see you more clearly, without any obstruction in the way.  Good for him, but worse for you. 

He’s so cute.  Were you prepared to look like an uncertain idiot in front of this… angel?

“Y-yeah.”  You manage after what feels like forever, sweeping your nerves under the rug that sits on the floor, separates the sole of his sneakers from hard concrete.  “Um— I was told you might have some time?  For, uh, a walk-in?”

(Why’re you stuttering?  You’re never shy.  Or rather, you’re not this nervous mess.  People have always called you an extrovert, outgoing as hell, a social butterfly.)

(You aren’t those things but you appreciate the sentiment nonetheless.)

“Oh!”  Realisation dawns across his features, throws his kind smile into greater relief, and you have to actively tell yourself not to stare, tearing your gaze away to focus on the wall of stencils past his shoulder.  He moves into motion then, stepping around the bed to meet you still rooted in the doorway.  “Yeah, I’ve got time.  Come in.”  Up close like this - there’s only maybe two feet between you - you can make out the little scar on his cheek;  the tiny beauty mark below his bottom lip;  each individual lash that frames his Bambi eyes and flutters when he blinks.  “I probably can’t draw you anything new right now but I’ve got some flash, if you’re interested?”

Even if you weren’t interested, you don’t think you’d say no.  You were always a sucker for a cute boy and this Jungkook?  He was that.  In spades. 

“Sure.”

“Are you looking for anything in particular?”  He’s retreating back into the room, moving to grab his iPad off the far table.  It’s balanced on his arm when he swivels to you, prominent front teeth on full display.  “I’ve got a pretty big selection.” 

When he drops onto the bench - a wayward vine above his head tickling his cheek - he gestures to the spot beside him.  This time, you don’t stare for a stupid amount of time, instead taking up the seat without hesitation. 

“So—”  He’s swiping through the photo library with his Apple Pen.  You’re sure there are pretty sketches on the screen - you just can’t focus on them, too preoccupied by the artwork that crawls across his hand and into the sleeve of his oversized, well-worn shirt.  It’s an intricate chrysanthemum, impossibly well-shaded with bold colours that demand attention and stand out over his fair complexion;  it creeps halfway up the back of his hand to tickle over his knuckles.  He notes your attention with a quiet chuckle, fingers wiggling.  The ink moves, flows, ripples with the motion, before his hand relaxes, knuckles unravelling as he offers the limb to you and your curiosity.  “Do you like it?”

“It’s incredible.”  It really is.  You’ve never seen anything like it, as if a painting has been done across his skin, laid in watercolour rather than tattoo ink.  “Did it hurt?”

(You almost want to hit yourself for the stupid question.  Of course it did.  It’s a hand tattoo.)

Jungkook only laughs again, doesn’t hold it against you despite the verbal barrage you’re faced with internally.  “Like crazy, but it was worth it.  This was my first tattoo and all the rest have just sort of been—”  He shrugs, fabric of his shirt bunching around his collar.  

“A piece of cake?”  You can only imagine.

“Exactly.”

You nod thoughtfully, as if that means anything to you.  (It doesn’t.  You’re bare as a baby’s bottom, blemish free save for the occasional hellish pimple and the scar you have from surgery on your hand when you broke parts of it in sixth grade.)

If he can tell you’re talking out of your ass, he says nothing, redirecting your attention back to the iPad propped on his lap.  “Do any of these interest you?”  He’s resumed scrolling, swiping carefully through pages of flash.  There are assorted floral pieces (plum stems, lily stalks, fully bloomed mums) and various skeletons (what looks like a deer, a dragon, a wolf).  They’re mostly blackwork with fine lines and heavy contrast, so wonderfully detailed you spend too much time studying one piece before he’s flipping to the next.

“That one.”  It catches your eye more than the others have.  Likely because it’s one of the few pieces in colour, soft hues spilling over neat lines.  A pretty little cat with a braided collar, big golden bell centered beneath its head, unravelling petals sweeping around it.

“You like cats?”

You do.  “She looks like mine.”

“It’s settled.”  He beams then, rising so quickly you’re startled;  you watch as he moves around the space with decisive steps, putting your plan into motion.  A paper is pulled seemingly out of nowhere, laid on a wooden clipboard and offered with a blue ballpoint pen.  “If you can fill all of this out, I can get the stencil ready.”

Well, that was easy.  Somehow, you’d thought it’d be more complicated, a ton of back and forth and yes and no.  You can’t deny you’re nervous, staring down at the consent form.  

(It doesn’t mean you read it any more than you normally would, though.  You gloss over all the points, making note of what you’re agreeing to without really considering any of it.  You’ve wanted a tattoo for most of your life.  There’s really no going back now.)

(You just hope it turns out like you want - that you’re not just being blindsided by a sudden superficial crush and a lack of critical thought.)

“I think I’m done,”  you mumble, slashing the date into the paper with gusto.  

“Do you have your ID?”  You’ve got it ready for him when he returns to take both it and the form.  “I’m just going to make copies and then we can discuss more.”

He’s gone with that same smile, disappearing back the way you’d come. 

Alone, the nerves set in.  You’re actually doing this.  Getting a tattoo.  Putting something permanent on your body.  It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once, shaking your hands in your lap.  Maybe you should’ve eaten more before you’d come.  (You’d woken up late - had only shoved two pieces of raisin pinwheel bread into your mouth before you’d made up your mind about this.) 

(But had you really made up your mind?  Was this going to be it?  It feels mostly like yes, though the repetitive thud of your toe against concrete seems to indicate otherwise.  It’s as if you’re tapping out something in morse, telling yourself—)

“Okay!”  Jungkook’s back before you know it, driver’s license returned to you along with an unsealed envelope.  You eye it curiously.  “A copy of your form and an aftercare sheet.”  

He’s really thought of everything.  Or the shop has.  Either way, you appreciate that when you’re not so sure, caught somewhere between giddily excited and vaguely worried, as if someone’s pulled a weight off your shoulders, taken on some of the burden of this spontaneous choice.

“So, where do you want it?”  It’s like he has a one track mind, utterly focused on the task at hand.  (Probably a good thing, given you’re about to voluntarily let him needle your poor skin.) 

You hadn’t thought about that.  You’d always liked the idea of a back of the arm tattoo, positioned somewhere along your tricep so it could be seen while turned away.  “My arm?”

“Upper?  Forearm?”  There’s not an ounce of annoyance or exasperation or anything else negative.  He’s just genuinely curious, peering over his shoulder at you. 

“Tricep area, I think?  Would that look good?”

“If you like it, it will.”  Then he grins - beams so bright you half expect the sun to come zooming out of his mouth - and laughs, a funny little cackle that makes you do the same.  “I’m kidding.  That was cheesy.  But I’m sure it’ll look fine.  We can try laying it down first, so you get an idea?” 

“That sounds good.”  A lot better than endless years of regret for poor placement. 

“You’ll, uh— need to take your shirt off though.”

It’s then you realise your mistake:  wearing a turtleneck.  “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

A beat of silence passes, then another, and he smiles so kindly you wonder what your expression must look like.  Sour, like you’d sucked fresh lemon?  Awkward, as if you’d never worn anything less than double layers before (a proud Never Nude)? 

“If you’re uncomfortable, we can reschedule.  Or I can put a divider up so you don’t have to worry about being seen from outside.  Whatever you’d prefer.” 

The longer you stay quiet - a seemingly common occurrence today - the closer his brows furrow, preparations coming to a standstill.  You can tell he’s not trying to rush you, politely waiting for an answer with transfer paper in one hand and scissors in the other.  

(If only he could peek into your brain, see the whole reason you’re hesitating is because you can’t quite remember which bra you’re wearing, whether it’s the slinky black one that offers absolutely zero support or the lacy blue one with the cute detailing and practically see-through cups.)

(Did it really matter either way?  He was probably desensitized.)  

“It’s fine.”  You find the confidence somehow, nodding firmly.  Jungkook’s still studying you carefully, though.  Waiting as you strip your purse off your shoulder and reach for the hem of your sweater.  It feels funny in your fingers, more like steel wool than sheep’s.

One breath.  Two. 

You fold your turtleneck neatly, laying it beside your bag and turning back to face him.  “All right.  Let’s do this.” 

“So, which arm?”  He’s close now - crossed to you in two strides of his long legs - and holds up the stencil.  

Your right rises, fingers wiggling as if to say hello. 

He lays the design down, pats it into place with deft fingers.  You don’t realise the breath you’re holding until he pulls the sticky paper away, leaving neat line work in its wake.

“Oh.”  It slips out of its own accord, almost a whisper as you stare at the design in the mirror.  “It’s so pretty.” 

There’s pride in his eyes as he stares with you, bounces his gaze between it and your face.  “Thanks.”  He lets you linger, peering thoughtfully at your reflection before speaking, casually hopeful.  “What do you think?”

“This is it.  Right here.”

Maybe he’d fist pump, if he were any less cool.  As it stands, he simply nods, cheeks round like fresh baked bread, nose scrunched with glee. 

“All right.  We’ll shave you down and get started.  You like the colours, right?”  Once again, he’s buzzing around the room, gathering up all his materials and snapping black gloves on once everything is laid out upon his cart.  It’s heavily stickered, covered in video game vinyls and anime mattes.  (You recognise a handful of them, make a note to ask him where he got them from.)  He pats the tissue papered bed top when you make no movement toward him.  “Hop on up.  Face down, if that’s okay.”

You do as he says, climbing atop with minimal grace.  It takes you a bit of adjusting to get comfortable, folding your left arm under your head and allowing your right to simply dangle, uncertain of where it should be.  

“You’re sparkly.”

“What?”  You’d misheard that, right? 

“Your skin.  You’re sparkling.”  He sounds a little in awe, surprised as wetness spills across your arm, the edge of a razor following closely thereafter.  

“Oh.”  Heat creeps over your cheeks, slinks all the way up into your roots and has you chuckling awkwardly.  “It’s my soap.” 

“Sparkle soap?”  Whether he’s just making conversation or genuinely curious, you’re not sure.  He does seem delighted by the fact, though, as if he’s never seen a girl covered in glitter before.  (Which, fair.) 

“It’s this specialty holiday soap.  It has pigment in it.” 

“That’s cool.”  He’s laying the stencil down again, smoothing it over your now-hairless arm.  “It smells nice.”

Obviously, you agree.  It’s honey and citrus, brightly fragrant but not overpowering, lingering on your clothes like the subtle golden glitter does.  Still, you flush, heat crossing from a casual day under the sun to burning-on-the-stove hot.  “Thanks.” 

“Was that weird?  I hope not.”

“No, you’re fine.” 

He hums a tiny noise, something that sounds like understanding and appreciation all at once.  

Then the buzzing starts - a steady, inescapable brrrrrrrrr - and he’s gripping your arm, steady yet gentle.  “Ready?” 

Honestly, you’re not sure.  Hearing the noise makes it seem scary, has your entire body tensing up like Pavlov’s dog.  Your honesty can’t be helped, a nervous giggle chased off your tongue.  “I think so.” 

“I think so too.”

By the time you’re done - a good almost five hours later, your arm stinging so bad you wonder why you’d ever sat down in the first place - you’d fallen asleep twice, started drooling on your other arm once, and really, really have to pee. 

“All right—”“  The incessant buzzing stops.  Liquid spills where the pain centres, followed by rougher paper towel.  “You are finished.”

(You might be imagining it, but he sounds about as relieved as you.  Maybe because you’d been sitting for hours on hours, turning down his offer for a break because you just wanted to get it done and therefore forcing him to do the same.) 

“Can I see?”  You don’t want to leap to your feet - feel a bit too lightheaded for that - but you’re bouncing with excitement, the thrumming in your arm intensified when you shift to catch a better look at Jungkook’s face. 

“Yeah, go ahead.  Just be careful - you might be a bit—”

He’s right.  You nearly topple over the moment you stand, none-too-gently rolling off the edge of the bed and barely landing safely on your feet.  It’s only his close proximity that prevents you from falling to your knees, one degloved hand darting out to steady you. 

“Careful!”  It’s politely reproachful, coloured soft with worry.  

“Sorry, sorry.”  You seize the edge of the bed, gripping tight as you wait for everything to settle, the lightheadedness to recede.  Everything straightens out quickly enough.  “Got up too quickly.”

“Do you need a snack?”  He’s already up, moving faster than you, rummaging through the cabinet against the far wall.  “I’ve got seaweed and Choco Boys and shrimp chips and—”

You can’t help but laugh, hobbling to the mirror to inspect your new piece of art.  “I’m fine.”  That, and you’re too occupied with the ink that now sits embedded beneath your skin, a flurry of lovely colour and impressive line work.

“Choco Boys it is then.”  The familiar yellow package is thrust toward you, a pack of his own already ripped open.  Mushroom-shaped treats are tossed into his open mouth, lips curling around chocolate and his next words,  “it’ll help with your sugar levels.”

A thank you comes, fingers curling around the snacks, but you’re still in deep, so focused on the lovely hue that bleeds over your skin, marks up previously unblemished flesh and holds your attention.  It’s better than you could’ve possibly imagined, a piece of artwork forever yours.  It makes you giddy as you stare at it - almost reach for it, but stop when you catch the alarmed widening of Jungkook’s eyes.  

“You like?”  

“I love.”  You’d stare at it for hours, if you could.  Likely will, once you get home, sitting in front of the mirror like a zombie.  “Thank you so, so much.”

The brunet beams as he polishes off the last of his Choco Boys, tossing his dark hair back with a flick of his head.  Triumph rolls off him in palpable waves, sitting pretty in the lines by his eyes, the scrunching around his nose.  Seeing how it blooms in his stare is like a straight endorphin shot, as if you’ve done more than just be the canvas he’s laid all his hard work into.  “It was a pleasure.”

It’s a whole month later - enough time for the piece to heal - before you decide you want another one.  It’s not as spontaneous as the first time, instead led with an Instagram direct message to @jeonink.  (You half expect him not to answer;  you’re utterly delighted when he responds not five minutes later.) 

Maybe it’s fate or maybe it’s luck that has him with availability the same day you reach out, bringing you back to the studio three hours after you’ve messaged him.

He’s just as cute as before, black baseball cap pulled low over his ears, silver-lined ears twinkling beneath the shop lights.  

“So, what’re you thinking?”  

Truthfully, you hadn’t done much thinking.  Just like before, you’d decided you wanted a tattoo and, well, the rest had been history.  You figured you’d let him have free reign, given how happy you were with your first piece.  “A sleeve?”

That surprises him.  His whole face lights up, eyes wide, mouth rounding curiously.  “Like, a full sleeve?”  It’s not necessarily a no - more of an are you sure? he hides between the syllables.

“I think so.”

He nods slowly, knowingly, arms folded over his chest, expression suddenly unreadable.  “You caught the itch.”

Your own features twist, brows shooting high.  “The what?”

“The tattoo itch,”  he clarifies with a laugh, the sound sweeping your concern away like the sea.  “People say once you get one, you get addicted to the feeling.”  He’s extending both arms to you now, hands palm up.  For a moment, you’re note sure what he’s doing.  (In actuality, you’re distracted by the fact that he’s in a tee, muscle cording his limbs, undulating as he turns his arms over.)  “I got bit by it when I lived in Japan.  It’s actually what got me into tattooing myself.”

You remember what he’d said last time - how he’d spent a handful of years overseas, working in restaurants after having followed his last partner there.  He’d shared lots about his life, giving you the Sparknotes version while you’d ground enamel to fine dust.  

“I guess I have the itch then.”

“Guess you do.”  

Your dream comes to life in four excruciating sessions.  It’s some of the worst pain you’ve ever endured (you’re never going to get an elbow tattoo ever again) but you’d do it all again in a heartbeat, utterly in love with the mural that now lives on your skin.  A peony caps your shoulder while one runs halfway up your bicep.  Another takes up the entirety of your forearm.  There’s a darling little bird and delicately inked koi.  It’s breathtaking, greater than anything you could have dreamt up.  

You’ve been staring at it for at least three minutes now, tracing over the freshly laid colour with a tender touch.  You’re grateful for the SecondSkin, the clear bandage that wraps everything up and keeps it safe from your over eager hands.

“You did it.”  Jungkook’s grinning at you, feet kicked up where he sits, his usual bag of Choco Boys balanced in his lap.  “Big girl.”

From anyone else, it might sound condescending - might rub you the wrong way and have you glaring daggers.  Instead, you take it in stride, beaming at him from your seat.  He’s been there with you every step of the way, been there for every hour (seventeen over three months, to be exact) you’ve dedicated to finishing this beauty up.  Tease you as he might, you know he really is proud of you.  

“You mean we did it,”  you return, giddy like a child.  

“Ah, right.”  The chocolate-covered snack he’s devouring goes crunch crunch crunch before he speaks, mouth still full, eyes crinkled.  “I guess I did do all the work.”

“Hey!  Screw you!”  You’re glowering at him, middle finger raised in defiance.  

(How curious that your relationship has grown like this, turned from tattoo artist and client to what feels like more.  It probably makes sense, given the long hours you’ve spent together, the support he’s had to offer each time the pain has gotten this side of too much, chattering your teeth and dizzying your head.  Solidarity in pain and all that.)

(You really had tapped out once, when he’d crept his gun into the ditch of your elbow.  You’d asked him whether it’d hurt beforehand and he’d only laughed, shrugged off the question and continued with the careful shading to your inner arm.  That in itself had hurt like a biiitch;  you hadn’t thought it could get worse.)

(You’d been mistaken.)

“Am I wrong?”  He drawls, full of laughter and that big dumb smile of his you’ve grown accustomed to.  It eats up his cheeks and disappears his eyes, makes it hard to be mad at him when he looks so sweet.  

“Yes, you are.”  You’ve got absolutely nothing to back it up, but who cares.  This is the sort of banter the two of you have developed, like two old friends forced to spend too much time together.  (Not that you’d complain.  You’ve loved hearing his stories, all the tales he regales you with whenever you’re in his chair.)

A snort is his answer, the full roll of his eyes over-exaggerated and playful.  “You’re lucky we’re all finished or I’d sneak in an ugly fish somewhere on your arm.”

You think he’s kidding - know he takes too much pride in his work to do that.

Still, you stick your tongue out, hopping down from the bed with your freshly inked arm, hands clapping together in celebration.  “You wouldn’t dare.”  You’re confident, crossing to the bench to tug your flannel on, careful of the dull pain that throbs beneath the thin medical dressing.  

“Wouldn’t I?  I’m leaving anyway.”

You’re ready to call him out for it, insist he would never ruin the sanctity of his profession in such a way, when you realise the words he’s spoken, the casual tidbit he’s just dropped like it’s nothing.

“Leaving?”  

(Is it you or do you sound disappointed?  You can’t dwell on it for long, worried you’ll miss his explanation.  Had he mentioned it previously?  Slipped it in when you’d been delirious from pain?  No, you would’ve remembered that.  You swear you would’ve.)

“I’m moving to Tokyo.”  How he’s so casual, you have absolutely no idea.  You suppose it’s not a big deal for him - he’s not from here anyway.  Home is back in Korea, the place he’d spent most of his life before moving to Japan and then here, just two years ago.  (God, your memory is good.  If only you’d retained knowledge like this when you were in school.)  “My flight’s next weekend.”

Your face must be hilarious because Jungkook’s laughing, cackling like the evil villain in an anime.  

“Gonna miss me?”  

Would it be inappropriate to say yes?  Because you will, you realise the moment he’s posed the question.  You’ve grown to consider him a friend, someone who you send random memes to on Instagram (usually pertaining to #tattooartistproblems or one of your shared hobbies, like video games and finding the best noodle soup restaurant in the city).  

You go for the safe bet, answering with a question of your own.  “Are you gonna miss me?”

“I’ll miss your restaurant recs,”  he answers, offering honesty to your reticence.  “You can still send me funny photos though.”  

You can’t help your laugh, the tiny quirk of your mouth into a smile.  “I guess you’re right.  Will you still be tattooing?”  It’s an innocent enough question - you really do want to know.  You can’t imagine going to anyone else, even if it means you’ll be shelling out an absurd amount of money for a plane ticket.

“Yep, new shop.”  Something twinkles in his stare, has him giddy as he rises to his feet, tossing his empty packet of snacks into the trash bin.  “Actually, where I got most of mine done.”  You understand it then - that it’s a move of faith.  He’s finally come full circle.  You’re unbelievably happy for him, brimming with delight to mirror his pride.  

But you’re still going to give him a little bit of a hard time because you have to.  It wouldn’t feel right otherwise.  “Whoa, big shot.”

“I am actually,”  he sniffs, raking an ink-strewn hand through his hair.  It’s longer now than it was when you met him, curling over the tops of his ears, hanging in his eyes at every turn.  “You’ll be lucky if I remember you when I’m famous.”

“Famously lame, maybe,”  you tease, slipping your bag over your shoulder.  You busy yourself pulling your keys from the interior pocket, checking your phone as if you’re ready to go.  It’s only when you’re standing in the hallway - you have no real intention of departing like this and he knows that, considering you haven’t paid yet - when you level him with a half-formed smirk.  “But I guess I should take you for a drink?”  

His hoodie is on before you know it, yanked over his head and tugged into place as he joins you.  It’s become your regular routine - leaving together after your sessions, a perk of always booking the last slot he has available.  (Not that you relied on that, but simply because your work schedule didn’t really allow for anything else.)  “Obviously.”

Jeon Jungkook is a talented artist, a dedicated snacker, a lover of the colour black.  You discover, sitting on the patio of the nearby bar, that he’s also really, really good at holding his liquor.  

(Not that he’d ever indicated otherwise.)

“Do you think you’ll get anything else done?”  He’s on his sixth pint, casually leaned back in his chair as he picks at the fries you’d ordered but that he seems perfectly happy to help himself to.  (Payback for all the times he’s forced snacks on you maybe?)  “Like, a face tattoo?”

You scoff at the question as if greatly offended.  “You think I’d get a face tattoo?”  

While a little glazed in the eyes, you can tell he’s altogether coherent, grinning across the table at you.  “Hey, I don’t judge.  You like making surprise decisions, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Okay, so he’s got you there.  Used your own impulsive history against you.  “I would never.”  

“If you change your mind, do I get first dibs?”

“Dibs on what?  Tattooing me?”

He nods as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world.  “Duh.”

You can only roll your eyes, tossing a wayward burnt fry end at him.  “Yes, Kook, you get first dibs on ruining my face.”

His expression twists, mouth shaping around words he’s keeping caged behind his teeth.  There’s something he isn’t saying, a comeback he’s chosen to lock up.  You wonder what it is.

“Hey - nothing wrong with face tattoos.”  

“Really?”  You’re leaning forward, a clear challenge written across your face.  “Then why don’t you have one?”  He has a million others as it is:  a hand, nearly the entirety of both arms, his chest, his shoulders, one of his legs.  (You haven’t seen them all in person but you have seen them online, memorialised on his Instagram feed.)  

“And hide all this?”  One inked hand is gesturing toward his own face, gesticulating wildly as if that’ll drive his point further home.  “I would never.”

“That’s what I said!”

It doesn’t matter to him, not when he’s fully sober and most certainly not now, when he’s slightly buzzed, eyes glossier than usual.  “But I’m cuter.  It’d be a shame if it were me.  You…”  The way he trails off is suggestive, indicative of something mocking and mean.  (Except it’s never cruel - far too friendly and soft to ever hurt your feelings.)  “—not so much.”

Another fry hits him right between the eyes and then another disappears into the hood of his sweater, lost to the black fabric that bunches up around his neck and hides the flush he’s been battling since you two got to the bar an hour ago.

“Don’t be rude!”  

He beams at you then, so unnecessarily endearing you can only throw one more piece at him. 

“I’m kidding.”  You knew that already but pretend to ignore the pseudo-apology, choosing instead to polish off the last of your now-cold fries.  A bad choice, you realise when he continues, surprising you with the words that come out of his liquor-laden mouth so much so that you almost choke.  “You’re actually pretty cute.”

(So what if you’ve sort of maybe been waiting to hear them?  Wondering if the tiny crush you’d developed was in some way reciprocated?)

(Not that this meant it was.  Only that you perhaps weren’t alone in thinking he was the most lovable - and somehow simultaneously hot - person you’d ever met.  It’s almost rewarding to know the long hours together hadn’t left him unscathed.)

“You all good?”  The look on his face is worse than that smile he usually offers, instead a devilish smirk that makes him look like Satan himself.  

Were you?  You’re not sure.

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Really?  You can’t?”  You’re not sure what that means, whether you’re simply reading too far into it.  But then he’s dragging his bottom lip through his teeth, head cocked curiously.  It’s a bait, you realise—and one you’ll gladly take.

“Should I have expected it?”

Shoulders hike, rising up around his ears.  “I thought I made it sort of obvious.”  

Had he?  Thinking back on it, you can’t really recall.  Of course, he’d always been friendly, indulging you in your pursuit of body art, sketching up the loveliest things you’d never even think to dream of;  accepting your distracting Instagram messages without complaint, always tossing you a like or some sort of acknowledgement no matter what you’d send (and you’d send some random, random stuff).  Chatting with him daily had just become the norm, conversation flowing freely whenever you’d pop in for your next session.

But that was just because he was a nice guy - or so you’d thought.  You realise now how wrong you’d been, too occupied with your own crush to notice his (if it could be called that).

“You like me,”  you hum, surprisingly nonchalant despite the little pitter patter in your chest, the flutter of your heart within your ribcage.  

“I think you’re cute,”  he retorts, though there’s no real weight to his rebuff.  The two statements are really one and the same and you’re giddy with the knowledge, absolutely tickled pink.

Except for the fact that he’s leaving, fully prepared to start a new life in another city in just one week.  The irony isn’t lost on you, like fate’s laughing even as she offers you this little crumb.  (You feel like Oliver Twist, frankly.)

“Same difference.”

He huffs - you’re reminded of how adorable he is when he does that - and downs the lukewarm remainder of his beer.  “I take it back.”

“No, you don’t.”  Where the confidence comes from, who knows.  You grip it tight with both hands though, hold it snugly as you level him with a stare that has his own unwavering.  It’s almost as if you’re caught in a staring match, a battle of unspoken wits. 

It drags on longer than it should, just the two of you locked to each other with nowhere to go. 

Then he does the last thing you expect:  shoves his chair aside and leans across the table, stealing a kiss and returning to his seat, all in the span of time it takes you to blink.  

(His lips are so soft.  A little chapped, a tiny bit dry, but soft - deceptively delicate.  Bitter, touched with sea salt and something else distinctly him.  French fries and beer and his Chapstick.) 

(For the briefest moment, you wonder whether you’d just imagined it - if your imagination had truly gotten the best of you and you’ve absolutely lost your mind.) 

“You just kissed me.”  It seems like you’ve found your new favourite hobby of just repeating things, giving live play-by-plays like an awkward narrator in a romcom.  

“Yeah, so?”

“You’re leaving.”  Speaking the words into existence feels bad;  you see the way his eyes tighten, the subtle sobering of his expression even while he tries to keep his cool.  

“I am.”  At least he’s realistic.  It saves you from any uncertainty, keeping the what-ifs at bay. 

You suppose it means you have nothing to lose. 

“Do it again.”

And Jungkook does - over and over, sinking the taste of him almost as deeply as ink, offering a piece of himself you want to keep for just as long.  

It takes you longer to add to your collection of art, nearly four whole years before you decide what you want next.  (It’s a back piece this time - a full body suit from your shoulders down past your ass.  Another cat, dressed in traditional Japanese clothing and surrounded by flowers.  An ode to your first tattoo, to the one that had started it all.)

(You’re not sure you’re ready for the pain, though.)

“Lay down,”  the artist instructs, back turned to you, busy preparing his materials.  You’d stripped down while he was occupied, discarded all your clothes to the allocated basket and stood quietly in anticipation. 

You do as he says, dropping atop the tattoo bed with a quiet oof.  The stencil has already been laid, the entire outline ready to be inked into your skin.  You can’t deny you’re more than a little nervous.  It’s been years since you’d last gotten anything done, uninterested in finding a new artist since Jungkook had left. 

(Which he had, exactly as he’d intended, gone on a 6 AM flight that you’d driven him to, teary-eyed and embarrassed.  He’d laughed at you standing outside of the departure gate, his suitcase at his side, arms wrapped around your shoulders.  You’d refused to show your face, burying it instead into the warmth of his neck, into the familiar scent of him that was going away for who knows how long.

“Stop being a baby,”  he’d said, smothering you in kisses, the full weight of his laughter palpable through your close proximity.  It'd rumbled out of his chest all the way into yours, finding a home behind your ribcage, right alongside where your heart fluttered, shaded blue and sad.

“Stop being mean,”  you’d countered, petulant like a child.

It couldn’t be helped.  You’d had only one week with him - one glorious, chaotic week filled with eating too much junk, rewatching your favourite animes, and generally making up for all the lost time you’d never even known there was.  As amazing as it’d been, it still hadn’t prepared you for the goodbye.

That was your fault, though.  You’d wrongly entertained the idea that maybe things would work out, that he’d change his mind or ask to take it - whatever you had, that is - with him, keep it going somehow.  He hadn’t.)

“Do you have a preference where I start?”  You’re unbothered, hair loosely knotted over your shoulder.  Ready for the session to start - ready to feel the familiar sting again.  (You’re proud of that.  It might have taken you years and years but here you were, tackling something huge.)

“Nope.”  

“Sounds good.”

The buzzing begins and pressure lands upon the small of your back, a gloved hand laid over the centre of your spine.  You remind yourself to breathe in, out, focus on something other than the pain that fizzles over your skin and then ebbs into tenderness.  Where he’s started - just above the fattiest part of your butt - isn’t too bad.  Tolerable and yielding.

You can do this.

Your back aches in a different way than you’d anticipated, soreness buzzing beneath inflamed skin and making it uncomfortable to move around.  It’s not any worse than your arm had been - the lines along your spine had felt comparable to that of your elbow - but it’s fresh, not dulled by years like your sleeve now was.

The artist is stripping his gloves off, your back neatly covered and the bed stripped of its original tissue paper.  He’s leaned against the sink, onigiri held in his now-free hands, nibbling at the edge of the rice ball as you turn this way and that in the mirror.  “You did good.”

You’re still undressed, admiring the linework from different angles, shimmying closer to your reflection to catch the lighter inking that makes up the undefined edges of the various florals.  Something tells you that you should be shy - eager to redress after spending nearly five hours naked in the secluded studio - but you don’t care.  Your back is quickly becoming a masterpiece, something that might as well be hung in the halls of the Louvre.  You’re in love with it.

“Thanks.”

You mean thank you for his compliment but also for all his hard work, the long hours he’s put into bringing this beauty to life.  It means so much - like progressing to the next level.  

Which, you suppose it is.  This is a fresh start for you.  A new beginning in a new city.  

“Proud of you,”  he hums, suddenly close, broad palms searing heat over your hips.  He’s careful to avoid the edge of the bandage that wraps your back and holds you delicately, like fine china or the most precious jewel in the world, lips sweet against your temple.  

You meet his eyes in the mirror - the same sweet doe-eyed stare from five years ago.  A little darker now, aged by the hand of time but endlessly kind, shining beneath the overhead lights.

“Proud of you,”  you chirp, identical smiles spreading over your faces.  

Jungkook’s having none of it though, bratty as usual.  “Proud of us.”

You suppose you can settle for that.  You really are proud of the two of you - for how far you’ve made it and all the obstacles you’ve overcome.  From the first few weeks of sadness, all the melancholy that’d set in when he’d left, to exactly one month after, when he’d called you in the middle of the night, drunk and stumbling home.  

(It’d been infuriating at the time - incoherent and foolish as he was - but it’d bloomed something between you, something neither of you could ignore.)

Four years of miserable long distance had become this:  a love that's brought you back to his side, to a city you’re unfamiliar with but that he calls home; to a city that never sleeps, loud with pachinko machines and some of the best food you’ve ever had;  to the place you’ve been missing every minute you were apart.  

You’d never thought you would move for someone, uproot your entire life for a relationship, but he’d changed that.  Made it worth it in ways you had never considered.  Convinced you more and more with each trip you’d taken, two visits twice a year, for a measly two weeks at a time.

“Should we head home?”  He means your physical home - the apartment the two of you had decided on in Roppongi, the one you haven’t seen yet, that he’s had to move into all by himself.  It’s not quite as nice as the home in his arms.  

You say yes anyway.

“I’m so talented.”  The words come entirely too whole for your liking, loud somewhere above your head.

“Are you serious?”  You’re levelling your boyfriend with the most incredulous look, whole face scrunched up, hands fisted into his dark sheets.  It’s uncomfortable at this angle - kinking your neck as you look over your shoulder - but you really can’t believe he’s just said that.  He’s knelt between your legs, knees spread wide around his own, his hand halfway up your back and tracking heat over your spine.  

Somehow, he has the audacity to look surprised.  “What?”

“You’re really patting yourself on the back right now?”  Now, when he should be pounding you into oblivion, working that big fat cock of his through your fluttering walls, making you moan his name into his pillows like it’s his only job? 

(It truthfully could be.  You’d rank his skills in the bedroom on par with his skills in the studio.)

“Oh.”  All at once, he’s the devil - sin personified. Or would be, if he didn’t somehow still look infuriatingly cute.

The gentle touch turns bruising, heel of his palm pressed hard into the tender notches of your spine.  “You don’t like when I admire my own work?”  Asked as he shifts behind you, length dragging out of your dripping cunt to gently tap against your aching clit.  The head of it glides through your folds, mercilessly teasing but never slipping back in, never filling you whole like you need.  (Because you really do need it.  You haven’t seen him in six months, left to your own devices - literally.)  It feels like heaven and hell, too good and not nearly enough all at once. 

“Kook,”  you snap. Try to, anyway, his name far too whiny and breathless to hold any real weight.

“I’m just admiring you, sweetheart.”  He’s dragging the hand over your back, tracing all the lines he’s embedded into your skin.  They make up his favourite piece, inked permanently into his favourite canvas.  A testament to his hard work, his dedication, his love.

Any other time, you might not care.  Here and now, after not having felt his touch in what feels like forever, you’re burning from the inside out, a million volts of electricity tripping your circuits.  When you speak, it’s more a plea than a reprimand, uttered so sweetly you know he can’t deny you. “Admire me later.”  

“I’ve missed you” is his only answer, punctuated by a fluid roll of his hips, the heavy press of his cock back into your dripping cunt.  “I’ve missed this,”  he breathes out, sinking all the way in, so slow you can feel every ridge and vein as he fills you.  

“Missed you too,”  you parrot back, a little delirious now that you’ve gotten what you want.  

Now that he’s right where he should be - with you.

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice​​​ @youwannabelostandnotbefound​​​ @snackhobi​​​​ @codeinebelle​ @xjoonchildx​

[redpandaramblings]

Like Caramel For Chocolate- An Omega Bakugou x Alpha f!Reader fic. Part 3.

Part 1- Here

Previous part Here

Next Part Here

Content Warning: Negative headspace, omegaverse, self deprecation, depressive thoughts, pushy parental figures, ambiguous omegaverse reproduction, unhealthy relationships, relationship that could be easily fixed if idiots would use their words and communicate, Shinso/Denki side relationship

Where we left off-

You glanced up at the sound of the door. In came your parents, then the Yokomadas. You did a double take as the final person, the omega you were here to meet, entered the room. They looked equally as startled as your eyes locked.

“Y/N?”

“Denki?!”

You slowly walked through the teahouse garden, your electric blond friend oddly silent as he kept pace with you. Your parents and the Yokomadas had allowed the two of you a bit of privacy to talk. So far, neither of you had mustered the courage to break the awkward atmosphere. Neither your parents or the Yokomadas had seemed to pick up on Denki or your mood. If anything, they were thrilled you two already knew each other. With a sigh, you sat on a bench by the koi pond, not looking at the blond as to settled down next to you. After several minutes, he spoke.

“So. What are you doing here?”

You snorted, and gently dumped your shoulder against his.

“Right back at you, Pikachu.”

“I’ll tell you. After you tell me.”

You chuckled humorously, and tilted your head back to look at the sky.

“Would you believe me if I said I was just here to appease my mother?”

Denki considered for a moment before shaking his head.

“No. You’ve been saying no to her for years. So tell me, why are you here.”

You take a deep breath and let it out again slowly through your nose.

“I… I think I wanted to be here. Needed to.” You wrung your hands, throwing a sideways glance at Denki. “I… I want to be mated. Have a family. Have someone who needs me and lets me need them. I used to think Kat… I used to think Bakugou was my person. But I’m not sure anymore, Denks. You know what he’s like and so do I, but I’ve waited for years, and nothing, and I’m so tired, and I’m not even sure he even likes me anymore, and…” You’re stopped by Kaminari gently rubbing your back.

“Breath, Y/n. Come on. Deep breaths.”

You inhaled shakily. You hadn’t even noticed you’d been hyperventilating. Quiet settled again, aside from the sounds of nature and your slowly slowing breathing. After a few moments, you spoke again.

“I’m just so lonely, Denks. I see him every day, and I’m still so goddamn lonely. So I think… I think it’s time to let go.” Your lips twitched slightly upward as you tilt your head to look at him. “Am I terrible?”

Denki huffed out a breath and shook his head. “You? Never.” He sighed, removing his hand from you back as he began picking at the hem of his sleeve. “I wish I could say I didn’t understand. But I do. I’m kinda here for the same reason after all.”

You gave an encouraging hum and reached out, taking his hand in yours and running your thumb over his knuckles. He interlaced your fingers, giving a squeeze before continuing to speak.

“You know how I feel about Shinso, right?”

“I think everyone but Shinso knows how you feel about him.”

Denki snorted. “Yeah. Not surprised. But that’s the problem. I’ve liked him for years. Little bit of a crush but at UA, thought I could play it cool and it would go away; but then the agency paired us together and, well.” Denki gestured with the hand not holding yours. “It was so easy! I’d go boom! And then he’d go pow! Then shoom! It was amazing! He was amazing… And so I tried to get his attention. I tried so damn hard. And you know me.”

You snorted, giving his hand a squeeze. “You’re about as subtle as a brick through a living room window.”

“Exactly!” He shouted, pulling away to stand up and pace. “I flirted. I used all my best pick up lines. I asked him out to the club, and he said yes. But do you know what he said afterward? He said though it wasn’t his usual scene, it was really good being able to hang out with a friend. I… I asked him to spend my heat with me.”

You inhaled sharply. Kaminari looked at you with an expression you hardly recognized. He collapsed onto the bench, leaning heavily against you.

“He said ‘I’m glad you’re that comfortable with me, but it probably would be better for you to ask someone else.’” Denki whispered, sniffling.

“Oh.. Denki.” You wrapped your arms around the blond, squeezing him tightly. Half out of instinct, you tried to pump out soothing pheromones while you gently scented his hair. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing, sweetheart. You’re a wonderful omega!”

That was all it took for Denki to start sobbing heavily in your arms. You squeezed him tightly as tears filled your own eyes. The tears fell when Denki wrapped his arms around you, hugging you just as tightly as you held him. There in the tranquil garden you both huddled together as you finally allowed yourself to cry. Years of hurt and longing fell from your eyes one drop at a time.

You weren’t sure how long it had been when the two of you slowly pulled away from each other. You used your thumbs to wipe Denki’s cheeks. He gave you a halfhearted smile.

“So,” you asked tentatively, “what should we do? They’re going to expect an answer from us about this whole…” You waved a vague hand “Marriage date thing.”

Denki hummed, puffing up his cheeks as he blew out a breath. “God, I don’t know. Certainly wasn’t expecting it be you, you know? No offense.”

You drew back, gasping in mock anger. “Full offense!” You could only hold your expression a few seconds before you started snickering.

Denki grinned his first really grin of the day. “Well excuuuuse me for insulting your alpha sensibilities.”

“You’re excused. For now.”

You both chuckled. Looking out at the pond, you spoke again. “I just wish I had the right answers. And I really wish we had more time.”

Denki furrowed his brow. “Well… Technically, we could.”

“What do you mean?”

Denki bounced on his seat. “Okay. So. Hear me out. We both need time to process, clearly. Also clearly, our families are just not gonna give us that. So… Why don’t we do this?”

“Wait. Wait. We do this?” you asked, both curious and incredulous.

“Yeah! Think about it. One! They mainly want us in relationships they approved of. They set us up, so clearly, they approve. Two! If we say we’d like to try out this match, they obviously aren’t going to set up any more dates; therefore buying us time. And bonus of no annoying randos. Three! We can say we’re going to take the relationship slow because we’ve both been burned before and want to make sure. Four! Four…” Denki trailed off, looking at his feet.

“Four is maybe if we can’t find a love match at least we’re friends who work well together?” You murmured.

Denki nodded, glancing at you with a rueful smirk. “Yeah. Exactly. Vibe on the same wavelength. Hell, we even want similar shit in life.”

“Actual house, few pets, stability…”

Denki nodded again. “Sucks, but would make sense for us to consider it. As much as I fucking hate the ‘You’re not getting any younger’ speech, they are kind right. We can’t waste all our time waiting for things that aren’t gonna happen.”

You shook your head with a chuckle. “God, don’t you hate it when they’re right about shit like that?”

“You have no idea.”

You stood, stretching. “Well, I guess we go tell them, then.”

Denki groaned. “There isn’t enough saki in the world for that conversation.”

“And just so we’re clear, this stays between us for now, right? No one knows but us, our folks, and I guess your cousins.”

“Agreed. I don’t want to think about what anyone would say. Bakugou would kill me!”

You winced. “Unlikely. I doubt he’d care. But if Mina finds out, everyone will know.”

“You’re not kidding. No worries from me, I don't want this getting out any more than you do.”

“So… Engaged, I guess?”

Denki dusted himself off and stood. “Deal. Engaged.” Denki stuck his hand out, and you shook it.

You both turned and started making your way back to the teahouse, taking your time and going the long way to be sure to avoid and of the other patrons. This was fine. A good plan. Nothing could go wrong as long as no one found out.

And there you have part 3! Sorry the wait and thank you all for being patient! If anyone has any questions regarding the fic or how this particular omegaverse operates, please feel free to shoot me an ask. Also, please note that @snuggleyourredpandas is my main account, so it you see a message reply from them, that's me!

TAGLIST- @yzviea, @not-a-pushover, @thelilypieforever, @kumihayu, @aomi04, @ladybakugouu, @one-simp-more, @hakunamatatayqueen, @my-thoughts-are-weird, @left-alone-yuki, @officialtrashbusiness Just a reminder, if you want tagged make sure you have the ability to be tagged turned on; and I'd have to be informed if your blog name changes! Cheers, Darlings!

[animeyanderelover]

Headcanons for Neji and Hinata sharing a darling?

It feels like eternities since I wrote anything about them🥺.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, obsessiveness, delusions, stalking, kidnapping, threatening, manipulation

Neji and Hinata sharing a darling

🕊💘Those two are seriously a sweet and gentle duo to have, though it might have not been always like this. I see the darling being a sort of childhood friend for Hintata which attended academy together with her and so instead of Naruto it would be them on whom she developed such a huge crush on. Hinata didn’t have it as easy as Neji might have used to accuse her. Her father was somewhat stern, the whole clan had high expectations on her and Neji couldn’t stand her. It was a bit too much of her, having to fulfill the ideal picture the clan wanted her to be.

🕊💘So Hinata took great comfort in her darling always supporting her and being there for her. She somewhat looks up to her darling, especially if they’re similar to Naruto a hardworking person although everyone else makes fun of them. She finds herself admiring such determination and wishes she could be like this as well. She doesn’t really approach her darling that often, she follows them around and watches them, but she’s too flustered to talk to them.

🕊💘She’s still terribly obvious with it and everyone knows about her crush on you. She isn’t able to talk properly to you, at least not without stuttering and blushing a bit and if you happen to compliment her, she just freezes with heart feeling like it’s going to burst in her chest. Young Naruto likes Hinata as a good friend and constantly tries to push you more towards her, he ends up being the first shipper of you two.

🕊💘Neji during those days is an extremely problematic case to have since he views himself to be superior to others and doesn’t like Hinata at all, he blames her for what has happened to his father. He just loves tormenting her and since it isn’t a secret that Hinata likes you, he can’t help, but mess with her by telling her that with her softness and weakness, she will never be able to reach you and that you will leave her for someone stronger than her one day. He can read Hinata and he knows about her insecurities which is why he is like this in the first place. Next to that he insults you as well because if you’re friends with her, you must be not strong yourself or even pity her. And the moment he insults you, Hinata always gets defensive.

🕊💘That would be before he meets his darling. But after he starts getting to know you, most likely because he is curious about why you are exactly friends with Hinata, he finds himself getting fascinated upon seeing you getting extremely riled up if he happens to insult his cousin, lashing verbally out on him and clarifying that to you Hinata is extremely precious and you love her just as she is and that you think she’s better than him. It irritates him since he just doesn’t can feel sympathy for Hinata (yet) and telling him that you will always be with Hinata and think she is in all aspects better than Neji is, is triggering for him.

🕊💘Neji believes in destiny so it is problematic if he falls for his darling during his younger days because that’s when he just automatically starts thinking that he fell in such strong love because you two are soulmates so Hinata became suddenly even more of a thorn in his eyes than before. You’re friends with her and he blames her for making you despise him because that isn’t what you should feel about him. Neji is stricter and controlling as a genin because he didn’t know yet what had really happened back then and thought that no one could change the date they were born with. So you couldn’t change your fate to be with him as well, but you were too stubborn to accept it.

🕊💘Starts monopolizing your time in hopes of getting you to accept him and realize that your place is with him which he tells you as well. Neji thinks that spending time with Hinata will end up stopping you from exploring your true strength. Hinata realizes what Neji tries and he told her as well which makes her panic since she relies on her darling for all sorts of support and is scared Neji will take them away from her next to the fact that she’s scared he’ll be too harsh on you. She doesn’t hate him like he does her, but she won’t stand for you being treated meanly either.

🕊💘So the fight during the chunin exams was a lot more meaningful than already because you were involved. Hinata wanted to prove to you that she, despite being shy and more awkward, was still willing to protect you under all means necessary and would be strong for you whilst Neji just wanted to show her by beating her that he was better for you and that continuing to stay with her wouldn’t bring you anything. Not like that this worked, you and Naruto both lashed out on him afterwards and in that case Naruto would end up promising you that he would beat him for Hinata’s and you’re sake. Neji on the other hand might call you naive and stupid for still staying by Hinata’s side who won’t be able to offer you anything.

🕊💘It is only after he got thoroughly beaten by Naruto that he finally snapped somewhat out of it, realizing that people can change their fate if they try hard enough. Afterwards his hatred cooled down immensely and him and Hinata starting having an extremely close bond. Neji, having gained a bit awareness, reconsiders everything since both of them have feelings for you and he is ultimately the one who suggests that the two of them could share. It isn’t like Hinata told him such things before as well, that she and him didn’t have to argue about you like this and both could be free to be with you, but back then he just never listened. Now he does and Hinata gladly agrees since she hated having to argue with him like this over you and putting pressure under you as well.

🕊💘Knowing how he used to be, the darling might hold a few grudges against him for having insulted them, Hinata, Naruto and having wanted to seriously hurt her during the chunin exam. So whilst his whole behavior changed, you might feel like you have to hate him for a bit longer until he is forgiven. Neji knows that as well and he feels terrible for what he’s done, being so mean to the love of his life. And he is ready to give you a bit of time, though with his delusional mood swings he becomes more desperate. He really changed which Hinata knows best so she consoles the s/o into giving him a chance and that he regrets everything he has done. Hearing her saying such things makes you give in easier to let Neji prove himself and afterwards the boy will be able to make you forgive him all on his own since he treats you like a princess/prince.

🕊💘In general Neji is the more aware one for a certain amount of time for which he feels somewhat guilty. Nevertheless, he has his delusional moods swings in which he tends to become more jealous and willing to threaten someone. Hinata has to hold him back from doing such things, being the more soft-hearted person, though she also becomes protective when seeing that you’re being pestered by someone else. But she is still the less scary one because whilst Neji learned to be respectful and more gentle, he can and will still talk someone down if they make him jealous or bother you. Neji still thinks sometimes that he is better due to being from the Hyuga clan. He still has it in him to be extremely rude and harsh to other people, even from his own clan, and Hinata has to make sure that he doesn’t go too harsh sometimes, especially to the wrong people.

🕊💘Neji on the other hand helps Hinata with her shyness around you. He used to cruelly mock her for it, but he came to greatly care for her and now supports her more. It isn’t like you don’t encourage her as well, Neji and you both want to help her regarding this and Hinata herself wants to do so as well. She’s just feels frustrated sometimes when seeing how much Neji can stand up for himself and you whilst she can’t. She wants to do so much more for you, though she already does a lot of things for you.

🕊💘At one point kidnapping will happen, though it isn’t the completely classic kind of kidnapping. It’s most likely Neji who does it since he feels more at ease to have his darling in the safe walls of the Hyuga estate instead of somewhere outside and convinces Hinata into agreeing to it as well since she’s more unsure, not wanting to force you. Neji starts talking with Hinata’s father about it and also actively coaxing you into moving in with both of them.

🕊💘Hiashi knows by the way about their feelings for you, about Neji earlier than Hinata since she can disguise it behind her shyness better than Neji who intimidated everyone who happens to talk bad about you. And he’s worried since they’re a more traditional clan, meaning two people being in a relationship with another one goes against their norms. But Hinata is still his oldest daughter and Neji the son of his brother. He feels remorse for the way he treated both of them which makes him feel conflicted, knowing if he’ll separate you from them, both will be affected and Neji will let his frustration and despair out on him whilst Hinata would be heartbroken.

🕊💘Both are scary stalkers given their kekkai genkai and so you’ll be watched even if both of them aren’t physically there with you. Both of them don’t like leaving you alone, Neji because he is worried something might happen and Hinata because she hates being departed from you in any way. So whilst they might feel bad sometimes about it, they can’t help it either.

🕊💘Hinata is more forgiving than Neji is which is visible because she always tries to stop him when she realizes that he’s decided to get rid of someone. Neji has limits, but if someone crosses those the wrong way, they’re done for. Granted, it happens if someone messed badly with you or tried to take you away from Hinata and him, but killing is still killing. Hinata is of course ready to kill someone in an emergency as well for you, but she isn’t someone who likes taking someone’s life. Neji doesn’t force her either, he respects it and does things his own way.

🕊💘Hinata speaks on behalf of you, Neji and herself with her father since Hiashi definitely wants to talk with all three of you at one point about your relationship with each other. People will find out, Hinata and Neji just display their love a lot in public. It isn’t a surprise to many, they knew that both of them loved you, but seeing them sharing is a bit surprising since everyone knows what the Hyuga clan is like. And some members do worry that this might ruin their name, the eldest especially. Next to that the whole main and branch difference is still there, making people feel conflicted about Neji a bit since despite him being a respected member of the clan, he is still only part of the branch clan, making it for some people still scandalous that he is sharing with Hinata, who is the daughter of the head of the clan. Next to that some might think that the darling isn’t worthy of marrying into the clan due to their clan being such a big deal.

🕊💘On the other hand there are a lot of supporters as well, all the Konoha 12, Guy and a lot of other people. And it isn’t like Hinata and Neji plan on giving up on their darling either, they both start protesting the clan tries anything and are ready to involve other people as well who support them to convince their clan of you. And I don’t think the eldest would want this issue to become too big of a deal, especially if it affects them negatively. But they will have it talked out after some troubles.

💘🕊In generally the relationship with those two would be for the most part normal because both are extremely doting and sweet and treat their darling like a royalty.

[jojoboisimagines]

Snippets Ch.4 : Johnny and Josuke (4) with the Same Crush (3)

Previous Chapter

A set of multiple drabbles/oneshots combining characters (i.e Jojos) from multiple parts and AUs.

.::.

"That guy...do you think--" Josuke started.

"That's their boyfriend? No idea." Johnny quickly answered, trying to play it off as if he didn't care.

It was quite the opposite. He may have cared too much.

To say Johnny was jealous was an understatement. But it seemed like Josuke was feeling some of the heat too, seeing you hanging out with some guy and proceeding to talk about him with Josuke when the two of you went to lunch the other day.

Josuke was still in the dark about Johnny’s own crush on you, which was a relief for the jockey, but it was hell for him, having to be afraid of either guy winning you over first.

He just needed to muster up the courage to talk to you again, but it was a lot more difficult than he thought it’d be. You two always seemed to be busy when the other wasn’t. Of course he still had Gyro (and occasionally Josuke and Hot Pants) to keep him company, but he missed you.

The little spat the cousins had was forgotten for a while. They didn’t exactly apologize to each other, but just starting to talk normally again was enough sign there was no hard feelings. The younger teen was still very confused about Johnny’s intentions that day.

‘ Was he trying to be a good role model or was he just mad I was leaving him at home?’ he thought. It didn’t really matter to him anymore, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t concerned about what Johnny must’ve been thinking, and if he still did feel that way.

They sat at a small table on the far side of the kitchen. Josuke, looking rather bored, held his head on his palm, while Johnny was playing on their shared Switch. Or at least, was pretending to be after Josuke brought up the subject.

“Hey, can I ask you an honest question?” The Japanese teen breaks the icy silence once again.

Johnny merely raises an eyebrow with a low ‘hm’ that was barely audible. His heart silently raced thinking of what the boy sitting across from him had on his mind to ask.

“(y/n)...how long have you known them?” 

A simple enough question to start off with, Josuke thought. Yet Johnny’s lips still pursed.

“Uh...about half a year now. We got really close in that time I’d say.” That last part wasn’t even to get a rise out of Josuke, he just genuinely thought so. He really cared about you, romantically or not.

Meanwhile, Josuke had only known you for the duration of the summer, which was about to end in a couple of weeks. Perhaps if he’d beg Johnny to let him stay he’d have more time to bond with you, but there was also the issue of him feeling homesick from time to time.

God, if he could take you back to Morioh with him..it’d be like a dream come true.

They both had quickly forgotten about whatever guy Josuke was referring to earlier, mixed up in their own thoughts about their relationship with you. Besides, he had only ever seen the guy once, there was no way you’d switch up on him that quickly.

He had no dates or anything planned with you like he usually does, though. Not that he didn’t want to spend time with you, he just felt as if he was coming off as a little...clingy.

Higashikata had been trying to drop hints that he liked you, such as buying you things, having heart-to-heart conversations as he’d walk you home, calling you pet names, and ending his goodnight texts with a little heart emoji. He considered himself a romantic, but when it came to your reactions, you kinda brushed them off platonically. Perhaps you’d never been flirted with before?

His texts were still frequent, making sure you were having a good day and all, but he figured maybe he should start being a little more risky..

“What do you like about (y/n) anyways?” Johnny asked.

There was a pause for a couple of seconds, before Josuke scooted back in his chair and got up from the table, intending to retreat to his room for a couple of hours.

“The same things you do, probably.”

.::.

“Ow! Gyro, what the hell was that for?!”

“Because, idiota, you need to confess already.” He hovers over Johnny like a judgmental parent.

Josuke had left the house to get some groceries, and in that time, the jockey called Gyro over. Not for advice specifically, but that's what it had eventually turned into. Sitting on the floor of Johnny’s room (where it was painfully easy to find porn magazines, Gyro won’t let that go as long as the two of them live).

“Like seriously, this is getting embarrassing to watch, just do it already.” The Italian pointed a finger at his friend. “Sooner or later you’re gonna do the thing where you get the girl drunk and then sleep with her regardless of feelings.”

“Ugh, I’m not like that anymore Gyro!” Johnny folds his arms with a pout his friend knows all too well at this point. “I’ve never committed to anyone before, so of course this is a little more awkward for me than it is for anyone else, you know this!” 

Indeed he did know. It was somehow one of the things they always ended up talking about.

“Listen, I know how this is gonna end. Its gonna end with you in this same room, bunched up in several blankets, listening to Fleetwood Mac on repeat with 3 pizza boxes to make yourself feel better.”

The American scoffs.

Gyro sits upright on his bed. “I’m right. Look, this gal means a lot to you, I know. I’ve seen it. You’ve never stared at someone with such a…not hateful look in your eye.” It was half a joke, half truth. “And I don't wanna see you sad, so you’re just gonna have to pull yourself up, grow some steel balls, and ask them out. For real. For both of our sakes at this point.”

Johnny rolls his eyes. “Wow, Gyro wants me to be with a girl? Pigs must be flying.”

“You are so not funny.” The Italian’s teeth flashes for a moment as he scowls.

“Alright, since you’re such a casanova, why don’t you tell me what to say to them?” At this rate, there was really no other choice for Joestar to take. He could ask Hot Pants, but knew she would give him similar advice.

“Nyo-ho! I’ll show ya! All you gotta do is gimme your phone.”

As soon as the word ‘gimme’ was uttered, the jockey clutched his phone as if it was a baby. The last few times he lended his friend his phone, it didn’t go so well.

Gyro would’ve snorted if he wasn’t serious about this.

“Come onnn! It--”

“Won’t go like the last three times, right? Fat chance.”

“Just hurry and hand it over before I tackle you!”

The larger man did that far too much already, much to Johnny’s dismay. Once Gyro had him in a headlock, there was no getting out of it. He defeatedly raised his phone up to the man for him to take.

“If you ruin anything, I’m doing the same thing to you, AND taking your damn horse.” The Italian waved him off as if he was merely an angry toddler. As he typed, Johnny tried to peer over and see, but his friend was too adamant on turning side to side so he couldn’t. The expressions Gyro was making wasn’t a good sign either. First confused, then mischievous, then looking a little too proud of himself. The jockey’s hands could start sweating at any moment from the sheer anxiety this was giving him.

“Aaaaaand done! There we go, all set!”

Johnny reached for his phone as soon as the words left his mouth, unapologetically in a snatching manner to immediately read the text sent.

::‘Hey This is Johnny darling. Hope your day has been as beautiful as your smile. I was wondering if you’re free tomorrow by 12pm. I have something very important to tell you. See you soon xoxo.’::

Alright, so it wasn’t as bad as he thought itd be (not nearly as bad as the time Gyro dared him to send a ‘send nudes’ text to you) but god, it would look suspiciously out of character for you to see. He can’t even remember the last time he typed ‘darling’ instead of ‘darlin’ and actually bothered to punctuate his texts. And who even used ‘xoxo’ anymore?

His friend looked at him with a big grin, waiting for his reaction. A slightly more pure smile than if he were waiting for Johnny to get a joke.

“Soooo what do you think? You gotta pick some nice clothes out for your date.”

The shorter man sighs.

“Its...passable.”

.::.

 Josuke got home a little later than he expected. He was surprised to see there was still Prince CDs in stock at the store. Thats one of the perks of coming to America, he guessed. He was more than ready to put them into one of Johnny’s old CD players he had found. It was already hard for him to listen to pretty much anything without thinking of you. At least if it was Prince specifically, it would help him feel better and he could jam out to it.

Finally finding the track he wanted, he grinned, letting the music play out loud and hopping on his bed. It was a good few minutes before he had started getting that feeling in his gut again.

..Crap, this wasn’t helping either.

The teen felt that he couldn’t endure this much longer. Love was something he took very seriously and to be so unsure about your relationship just made him feel funny. He had to at least know for sure if the both of you were on the same page. Josuke was sick of being so anxious about it.

Josuke laid down flat on his back, pulling his phone out.

“You know what? I’m gonna ask them out.”

[osamiiya]

another milestone🥺 ur growing so fast i'm so happy for u🤩 once again i am here to support ur event 🥳 can i get mattsun with #41 song: love is only a feeling by joey bada$$

Look it's Lyss 🥺 Please you've been here before 100 followers and I'm so thankful ily ❤️❤️

Pairing: Mattsukawa Issei x Reader

Scenario: #41 Fake dating each other to go to a wedding, falling in love.

**This one is kinda long, oops

Omiomi's 200 Follower Event

-Monday-

"So, what you're saying is that your cousin's wedding is this weekend and you don't have a date to get your pushy relatives off your back, so you need me to act like we're dating?"

You blink a couple times, shocked that he got it completely on the first try.

"Yeah.... that's exactly it."

Matsukawa shrugs "It's not like I have anything else to do, and it's free wedding cake."

You bark out a laugh, drawing the attention of people at nearby cafe tables.

"I can drive us, it isn't too far." You say, trying to further convince him so he won't back out suddenly.

At this Matsukawa snorts, leaning in to look you in the eye.

"Now what kind of a fake boyfriend would I be to let my fake girlfriend drive us there?"

You roll your eyes "Fine, but we need to lay down some rules."

He nods and motions for you to continue.

" 1. No kissing on the lips unless it's a situation in which we absolutely have to, other skinship will be ok. 2. We leave Friday morning, and come back Sunday night because the wedding is in the afternoon on Saturday. During then we'll probably have to share a room, I'll take the sofa or we'll use pillow dividers. 3. We met in college, and you asked me out." Matsukawa's eyes are narrowed in concentration, eyebrows furrowed as he commits it to memory.

"Easy enough." He grins, this was going to be a piece of cake.

You spend the rest of your "lunch date", full empasis on the quotes, discussing your backstory and other details that might be asked about.

-Friday-

Your doorbell rings and you grab your luggage, opening the door to see Matsukawa, white shirt and black joggers. His messy hair falling slightly in his face.

He was always attractive, but this outfit makes your mouth go dry and you swallow hard, grinning at him as he waves.

"Ready to go?"

The car ride was about 6 hours, you taking the first half and Matsukawa taking the second half, claiming that he wants your family to see what a good boyfriend he was, driving you to the wedding.

While you drove he fed you snacks and gave you instructions from the map app on his phone cackling when you missed an exit.

He napped for an hour before he had to drive, not wanting to be tired when he had to drive.

You take some glances to him, and usually people wouldn't find a boy passed out, leaning against the window with his mouth slightly open, attractive. But the butterflies in your stomach fluttered and you wondered what it would be like to kiss him awake.

Soon, you pull up to the gas station halfway mark that the two of you agreed on. You lightly tap him awake, and stifle a smile as he groans awake, stretching as his shirt rode up a little.

"Are we there?" He's half asleep and you allow a smile, unbuckling your seatbelt.

"I'll get you a coffee." Your heart is beating erratically as you pay for the canned coffee from the gas station, remembering Matsukawa's shirt riding up as he stretched.

You open the car door and hand him his coffee, he grunts a thank you and starts the car, taking a sip of his coffee occasionally humming along to the radio.

"This coffee sucks." He deadpanns, finishing up the can.

"But you finished it." You point out and he rolls his eyes before cracking a smile.

That's all it takes to break the ice you didn't know had formed, cracking jokes and wheezing as you pull into the hotel, your Aunt greeting you guys.

Matsukawa side hugs you and plants a kiss on your forehead, greeting your family.

"Hi, I'm y/n's boyfriend." Your heart warms at the sentence, and you have to scold your brain to stop being so happy. It's fake, it's fake, you're fake dating.

You get the room key and hold your breath as you enter the room, one bed, and there's no couch.

Matsukawa senses your apprehension and shrugs.

"I can sleep on the floor?" He offers, and you shake your head.

"It's fine, I don't want you to be uncomfortable tomorrow."

You don't notice the blush on Matsukawa's face as he fully digests the situation, too busy calming yourself down.

He showers first and then you get ready for bed, coming out of the bathroom to see no pillow wall, but Matsukawa fast asleep.

'I suppose we're close enough to not need pillow wall."

You lie down on the edge of the bed slightly cold, but fall asleep nonetheless.

-Saturday-

The entire day is awkward, you woke up tangled in Matsukawa's arms, his head in your hair, and arms around your waist.

Then at breakfast your cousin noted that you're not holding hands, and so the two of you clasp hands, slightly concerned that you enjoy holding his hand so much.

During the wedding a couple of your older relatives lean over and giggle about how your guy's wedding is next, flustering both of you.

And before you know it you're slow dancing with Matsukawa, head on his chest as his heart beats rapidly.

You must've had too much champagne, because your head is fuzzy and your impulse control is near zero as you get ready for bed.

"Are we going to sleep together?" You mean in it a purely Innocent way, but Matsukawa spits out the water he was drinking, coughing violently as his cheeks and ears turn red.

"What?" He chokes out, and you frown.

Sitting in the bed, you cross your arms and Matsukawa finds you adorable right now.

"You're so cute." He sighs, lying down and opening his arms while realizing what you meant earlier.

"'m not cute." You sigh, content and comfortable.

"I love you." You mumble, not aware of what you're saying completely.

Matsukawa breaths in shakily, not sure how to respond, you're clearly not aware of what you're saying.

"I love you too." He whispers into your ear even though it looks like you've fallen asleep.

-Sunday-

The car ride home is quiet, just anxious glances, you wondering if what you said last night was actually said or just a dream, and Matsukawa wondering if what you said was just a result of the champagne.

"So..." You both start.

The two of you stop, laughing nervously.

"You said you loved me." He clears his throat, refusing to look at you and drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

"And what if I said I did?" It was a pretty big change, going from being good friends with a slight crush on him, to admitting you were in love with him. Both to yourself and to who you're in love with.

He glances over to you, eyes sparkling.

"I'd say the same thing I said last night."

You blanche, he can't possibly expect you to remember what he said.

"Which is..." You look at him expecting as he smirks.

"I love you too."

[ampmiscfiles]

Let Us Love You: Chapter 8

Start at the beginning

Bucky watched with a thoughtful expression as Peter left. There was no denying the omega hadn't looked at him quite like he had before.

He looked......unsure.

He debated on letting the others know, but he didn't have to say anything.

"That was interesting." Natasha said, eyebrows raised.

"What was?" Steve asked, turning from where Karen had walked off.

"Bucky and Peter." she answered.

The three other alphas snapped to attention.

"What about them?" Thor pushed.

"We just made eye contact. She's making something out of nothing." Bucky said, rolling his eyes.

"There was something different in that look." Natasha said, crossing her arms.

"I don't see why this is such a big deal. We all know he was close to the version of me in his world. He damn near shuts down every time he sees me. You'd be better off ignoring what you saw. It wasn't me he was looking at." Bucky glared before stomping off.

"Was it really a big deal?" Steve asked, looking at Natasha carefully. "I mean, Buck's not wrong. Peter had a connection with his version, it really could just be that."

"Oh, it's definitely a little bit of that. I could see it. He misses him. Most likely it's the same with Sam. Still, he knew he wasn't looking at his Barnes. He was trying to seen him in ours though."

"Perhaps this is a good thing." Thor hummed. "If we can convince him to talk to our friend Barnes, then he could see ours is the same as his!"

"That might work in theory, big guy," Tony nodded. "But how do you propose to get close enough to Peter to suggest it? How would you suggest it?"

"It's not a bad idea. I think Peter wants to talk to him, but our other selves have left a serious impression on him." Natasha said, moving to follow where Bucky had gone. "Let's go. We need to do a little brainstorming."

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

"Welcome to my awesome abode. I'd be glad to show you around. Maybe you'd like to see the inside of my bedroom?" Johnny winked, opening the door wide for Peter to enter.

"I've literally been here multiple times. I think I can get around just fine." Peter smirked. "Plus, I've seen your bedroom. It's a disaster."

"You've seen theother me'sroom. I can assure you thatmineis ready for company."

"I bet it is." Peter rolled his eyes. "Where is everyone?"

"In the kitchen. Come on, I'll win you over with my co-"

"You can't cook." Peter snorted.

"You don't know that!"

"What are we having?"

"It's.......um..."

"Exactly." Peter laughed, passing Johnny and heading towards the kitchen.

"Are you sure we're just friends? I feel like there's something between us."

"Yeah, a mutual respect for giving each other shit."

"You know, I think you're ignoring the fact I'm a different Johnny Storm here." Johnny pouted, crossing his arms.

"No. You're still the same idiot." Peter chuckled, flicking his forehead.

"I'll have you know, I'm a highly sought-after alpha. Everyone wants a piece of this." he gestured to his whole body.

"I bet. I had to fight the crowd of screaming fangirls just to get in here." Peter deadpanned.

The truth was, Johnny was every bit as good looking in this universe as he had been in Peter's. Still, just as he retained his looks here, he also retained his extreme level of self-confidence.

"I'll win you over yet, Parker."

"Uh hu. Sure. Just don't hold your breath."

Peter would never admit he had once had a major crush on his own Johnny.

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

"Peter!" Reed smiled as he and Johnny entered the kitchen.

Sue smiled as she looked up from pulling a pan of lasagna out of the oven.

"Hello, Peter. Everything is almost done. Why don't you all go join Ben."

"Yes! I have so ma-"

"Reed." Sue warned. "He only just got here."

"It's ok, really." Peter smiled.

"I was used to this." he said, motioning between him and Reed.

"Let's talk then. I'm curious about your story. The multiverse isn't a common topic I get to discuss!"

"Well, I can't tell you you're gonna like most of what I have to say. Still, it's great to see you guys again." Peter smiled, genuinely happy to see the family of four back together.

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

"Heard we missed all the fun." Clint called, stepping off the elevator with his bags. "You guys couldn't have waited?"

"Sure. Next time we'll ask the killer robot army to hang on and let our other team mates get back from their impromptu vacation." Tony huffed.

"You all seem in a better mood than when we left. Something happen?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at others.

The alphas were gathered in the common area talking eagerly amongst themselves.

"Yes." Thor smiled widely. "We have decided to properly court our omega. We shall return to the old ways."

"Who says romance is dead?" Tony grinned. "We're gonna woo the hell out of him!”

"This should be fun." Sam deadpanned.

“Oh ye of little faith. We're an extremely romantic bunch when let loose.” Tony scoffed.

“The guy couldn’t be more clear on his desire not to be your omega.”

“We’ve been talking to Karen and each other. Slow and steady wins the race and all that.”

“I think we made it back in perfect time then!” Clint grinned, opening his bag. “Brought some of Laura and the kids’ things. They missed you guys.”

Clint passed out the few items he had brought from his home. The scents of Laura and the three kids extended into the room. The calm of knowing their distant pack members were safe settled the atmosphere.

“We’ll get out to see them soon.” Natasha smiled, rubbing the small stuffed bunny she knew belonged to Nathaniel.

“We may even get to introduce them to Peter.” Steve said, a hopeful lit in his voice.

“Please don’t push that on him.” Bruce sighed. “It’s going to be enough on him dealing with you all, much less integrating into a full pack.”

“We are fully prepared to take it slow with our young omega.” Thor smiled.

The four other alphas nodded in agreement. There was no other option really. Sam was right in his statement that Peter seemed to want nothing to do with them, but Peter's conflict over Bucky had revived their hopes.

Maybe it wasn't such a lost cause after all.

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

“Your universe sucked.” Johnny scoffed from his seat next to Peter.

“I don’t always get along with Stark, but it’s deeply upsetting to hear about a version of him that was so violent.” Reed frowned, taking his own seat.

“I just can’t picture any of them being like that.” Sue agreed.

“Well, good thing ours arn’t like that. Not sure I could clobber them all at once.” Ben huffed.

Peter listened as the four voiced their opinions of the Avengers.To be honest, he was getting a little sick and tired of everyone telling him how wonderful they were.

They were wonderful in his world at once too!Everyone loved them and practically worshipped them!

Truth be told, there was no real understanding of the change. It wasn’t like anyone was opposing them. Who would? The Avengers risked their lives to help people, to keep them safe. Why would they evenneedto change?

Not that it mattered. They did change. They went from saving people tohurtingthem. They lorded their power over the people, and gleefully killed those who posed any real threat.

They were monsters!

Peter absently ran his hand along his thigh where he knew a long scar sat. A memorial to a particularly brutal up close fight with Black Widow. She had managed to stun him with her widow bites, slowing him down enough to prevent an unharmed escape. It could have been much worse, he knew, but he got lucky in where the bites had hit him.

She had been aiming for a fatal blow.

His movement had saved him from a slow death, but the blade had torn practically through to the bone in his thigh. If Bucky hadn’t shown up, she would have finished the job. As it was, he was out of commission for two weeks before the wound had healed, feeling had returned, and the leg moved without stiffness.

God, the blood she had spilt.

“Peter?”

Peter startled out of his thoughts to find the four looking at him.

“Sorry.” he mumbled. “I can get lost in thought sometimes.”

“Well, I’m more than willing to help you with that.” Johnny grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Oh I know you can. You always could bore me right to sleep.” Peter snarked.

The others laughed and began passing around the food as Johnny pouted.

"So, you said there are no second genders where you're from?" Sue asked, curious as to how Peter was handling the change.

"No, we definitely didn't have alphas, betas, and omegas where I'm from. It was.....surprising to say the least." Peter winced.

"Well, you seem to be doing alright as a beta." Reed smiled.

"Beta?" Peter raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. Your scent is barely there. Beta scents are generally muted. Yours seems a little more so. Maybe it's because you weren't originally from here. Do you not know your second gender though, or did you think you hadn't gained one?" Sue frowned.

"I would have figured Matt and Karen would have explained things to you."

Peter looked around the table, unconsciously touching his wrist where one of the patches sat under his sleeve and web shooter.

"No," Peter hesitated. "They did, I.....I'm just still adjusting it all. I mean, I lived 26 years without all this, so it's easy to forget sometimes."

Ben, Sue, and Reed nodded, striking back up light conversation and more questions about himself and how he was getting along. Out the corner of his eye, Peter couldn't ignore the strange look Johnny kept giving him.

"So, what are you going by if you can't be a Parker?" Ben asked, drawing Peter's thoughts away from Johnny.

"Jones." Peter sighed.

"Any relation to Jessica Jones?" Reed asked.

"Yeah." Peter huffed. "Everyone thought they were so funny when they decided to make me Jessica's cousin."

"What's funny about that?" Sue frowned. "Did the two of you date back in your world?"

"Not hardly." Peter laughed.

"No, they just thought my initials were a nice joke.They left my first and middle name then changed my last."

"What's your name then?"

"My name is Peter Benjamin Par...err, Jones. Peter Benjamin Jones."

"I'm sure you'd make a delicious sandwich." Johnny snorted.

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

A few hours had passed before Peter noticed the time. He had been enjoying himself while getting acquainted with this version of the Four. They were practically identical to his, making connecting with them extremely easy.

“Well, I guess I better get going. Karen’s a worrier.”

“Don’t let Matt fool you, Peter,” Sue smirked. “He’s a worrier too with people he cares about. I saw you two talking.”

“Matt was the first person I went to after I got here. I was good friends with him.” Peter smiled.

He was happy to have Matt and Karen, and to be gathering back all the people he lost, but Ben, May, Bucky and Sam were never far from his mind. The people he wanted most were the people he’d never get.

After promising to visit again, and give a demonstration of his strength levels compared to Ben's, Johnny led Peter out.

"So, Pete," Johnny started, unusually hesitant compared to his normal composure.

"The others didn't press, but I'm going to. You're an omega, aren't you?"

Peter blinked in surprise. He had yet to have to admit his second gender to anyone on his own yet. Everyone who knew, had either discovered from his scent, or been told by someone else.

"I could see the scent patch occasionally when your sleeve moved up and your, whatever those are on your wrists, shifted."

Peter swallowed hard, not missing the fact Johnny had moved into his space.

"I...uh.."

"It's ok, Pete." Johnny smirked, stepping back. "I'm not going to blab your secret. I am, however, going to knock you off your feet! You'll give in to me yet, Jones."

"I don't think you want to try, Storm." Peter replied, breathing a little easier as Johnny's alpha pheromones calmed.

"Why? Do you already have an alpha? I just don't see any mating marks."

Mating marks?

Peter frowned. He hadn't heard of any 'mating marks'. Was there more he had to learn? Maybe he should keep blowing Karen's lessons off.

"No. I don't have an alpha, and I'm not interested in one." Peter narrowed his eyes.

"Fair enough." Johnny smiled, holding up his hands in surrender. "But that doesn't mean I won't keep trying."

Peter sighed. While he wasn't about to let Johnny Storm in on his alpha problem, he couldn't forget how the Avengers had reacted to Wade when they realized the two were hanging out together.

Deadpool hadn't been in any real danger since he could easily regenerate, but Johnny couldn't.

If anything Karen had already told him had gotten through, it was that alphas could be possessive. He had already seen it in action, and the Avengers were anything but normal alphas.

Still, he wasn't going to let that stop him from hanging around people he actually trusted.

They would just have to deal.

If they couldn't, and tried to hurt his friends, he'd be ready.

As he made his way back toward Matt and Karen's, he didn't even notice how his thoughts on the Avengers had changed from "when", to "if".

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

"You smell like Johnny Storm." Karen frowned when he walked through the door.

"Hello Karen. I see your fine after today's events. My dinner with the Four was great. If was nice to catch up. Thanks for asking."

"Don't sass me, Peter Jones." Karen glared, following him to his room, passing a smirking Matt along the way.

"What if you had run into your alphas? You're unmated and smelling of an alpha that's not one of them! Even worse that it's Johnny with his flirty reputation."

"I'm not avoiding friends just becausetheymight not like it, Karen!" Peter shouted, turning around with his own glare.

"They don't own me and never will. I don't want them! I don't trust them! It doesn't matter what everyone else thinks of them. I can't stand them!"

"Peter, please," Karen tried.

"No. This discussion is over Karen. I'm never going to be with the Avengers. It's not happening."

"You won't even give them a chance!" Karen shouted, her frustration rising. "You're so hell bent on seeing them as the same villains they were in your world that you refuse to see them as the heroes they are here! This isn't your old world, Peter! You can't keep hanging on to what happened there. You're here now!"

The two glared at each other, neither wanting to admit defeat.

"You don't know what you're talking about Karen. You have no idea what I've been through."

"I have a damn good idea, Peter! You've made no effort to hide your disdain for them. You have no problems admitting what those other Avengers did to you. I know it's left physical as well as mental scars, but did you ever stop and think that maybe getting to know these Avengers could help you heal?"

There was complete silence as Karen's words hung in the air.

"Getting to know them and seeing they're who you wish your Avengers had been could be good for you. You could finally relax a little and try to move on. You've been here for months now Peter, and yet you still hold everything from your past so close it's like it all happened yesterday."

Karen sighed, running her hand through her hair.

"We're all still here, Peter. Nothing has happened to any of us and they've had more than enough opportunity to hurt us if they wanted to. They've had plenty of chances to kill the others and make it look like a casualty of a fight and no one would question it, but they haven't. They haven't, and you need to realize and accept it."

Without another word, Karen turned and headed into her and Matt's bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

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

Anger rippling under his skin, Peter left the apartment and headed towards Luke's bar. Maybe he could find something there to keep himself busy.

Anything to get his mind off his....whatever that was, with Karen.

Shoving his way into the back door, the sounds from the front filtered in through his ears. The place was at peek hour.

"I swear, if one more asshole-Peter?"

Peter looked over as Luke stormed into the back, grabbing a bucket and mop.

"Rough night?" Peter asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, it's gonna be for the shit that just broke a beer bottle over a guy's head. They're both about to clean up their little mess, then get thrown out on their asses." Luke grumbled, kicking the door back open and shouting.

Peter decided to hang out in the back, letting Luke handle things before making his way up front.

"Get out here, Jones." Luke snapped, sticking his head back through the door. "Make yourself useful and come serve some drinks."

Grinning, Peter slid his way behind the bar and got to work.

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

It was slowing down to the more, quieter patrons of the night. These were the people Peter liked the most. While the more boisterous crowd could be fun, they could also be annoying and demanding. Some even tried to get a little handsy, over the bar.

This crowd though, this was crowd was just looking for a little break from the world.

Peter heard someone sit at the bar while he was crouched, placing glasses back into their places. Rubbing his hands on his pants, he stood up to greet the customer and....froze.

Sam Wilson stared back, as equally surprised to see him.

The two just stared at each other, neither knowing how to react.

"Hey, Pete-" Luke stopped as he took in what was happening.

He wasn't quite sure what to do, and it didn't appear as if Peter or Sam knew either. Had it been any of the alphas, Luke would have easily jumped in, knowing how stressed Peter would be.

Sam wasn't an alpha though.

“Let me start by saying your secret is safe with me.” Sam said. “I’m pretty burnt out on alpha desperation at this point. I just want to have a drink and enjoy it.”

Peter stared at him a moment before moving forward.

“What would you like?”

“Whatever you recommend.”

Peter looked at him again. Guess Sam was willing to trust his judgement in drinks in any universe.

Sam nodded as Peter slid a glass across the counter top and took a swig.

“I hope we’re not gonna spend the entire time in here in this strange, tense silence.”

Peter sighed.

“This isn’t....this isn’t easy for me.”

“I’ve gotten that impression. I also heard you were close to your world’s Bucky and I.”

“Y...yeah.” Peter frowned. “By the end, they were my best friends.....they were all I had left.”

The two were silent again as Peter busied himself with meaningless tasks.

“I’m sorry this is happening to you.” Sam said suddenly. “I think I would have reacted the same way.”

Peter stood with his back to Sam, debating on his next move.

Finally, he turned.

“You’re a lot like him, well, when he wasn’t giving me shit anyway.” Peter chuckled.

“Oh, I can give you shit if that’s what you’re looking for spider boy.” Sam grinned.

Peter grinned back, strangely comfortable in this Sam’s presence.

Maybe all Sam’s were pretty much the same.

“Look. I know you’re probably willing to talk to me like thishere. I can see Cage keeping an eye on you, but I think, if we got along in your world, we could get along here.”

Peter hesitated, the since of unease returning.

“I’m not trying to hand you over to the wolves!” Sam said quickly. “I’m more so trying to offer up another friendship. One that gets me away from everyone at the tower and one that offers you.....” Sam hesitated, unsure if he should continue.

“Maybe something that offers you a bit of what you lost?”

Peter’s eyes widened in surprise. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of this Sam’s offer. As much as he missed his own, and as similar as the two seemed, could he really ever think of this Sam as a friend on par with his?

“I...um...”

“You don’t have to answer me now.” Sam assured. “Maybe just think about it. I realize I’m part of the enemy here, but I promise I’m not a bad guy.”

“Yeah.” Peter snorted. “You’re not trying to get into my pants.”

“You do realize there’s more to it than that, right?”

“I’m not really interested.” Peter replied. “You don’t know what it was like to see them hurt people. To see them kill you and Bucky.”

“I’d offer up the argument that these Avengers haven’t done that considering Bucky and I are clearly still alive, but I have the feeling you’ve heard that line enough.”

“That obvious?”

“From five words in.”

Peter let out a breath, running his hand through his hair. It was hard having someone who looked like his lost friend be so close, and yet so far.

"I'll share a secret with you, kid." Sam grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

This caught Peter's attention as he leaned onto the bar.

"There are three betas in the tower. Me, Clint and Bruce-"

"I...I like Dr. Banner." Peter mumbled.

"What?" Sam asked, unsure he had heard right.

"I....I like Dr. Banner. He.......he had it hard in my world. Hulk is a force to be reckoned with. He can be easily enraged to the point that even the intelligence he does have can be quickly over written. When the Avengers...turned.....they held him hostage. Bruce was far to gentle in nature to side with them, so they held him captive, using Hulk against him. They'd do whatever they could to bring out Hulk, then set him loose on the city."

Sam sat in stunned silence. He could never imagine putting Bruce Banner through that kind of torment. Bruce struggled with balancing himself as both separate and part of Hulk.

"I wanted to free him. Tried several times, but it never worked. They kept him in an underground bunker beneath the tower. I only saw him once. I'm not even sure how I managed to make it that far. I've never forgotten how defeated, miserable and pained he looked inside that glass cage they kept him in."

"Glass doesn't sound like it would hold-"

"Oh, it was 'Hulk proof'." Peter hissed. "Before things went bad, Bruce and Tony created it to contain him if things got to bad and he needed somewhere safe to be until he returned back to himself."

"They used his own creation against him." Sam sighed, running his hand down his face. "Guess that explains why you didn't do anything to Bruce that day."

"I told Matt and Karen it was because he let me out. I'm telling you the truth because you live with them and need to know what they're capable of doing."

"If it makes you feel any better," Sam started. "We don't have a Hulk room or cage or anything."

Peter narrowed his eyes.

"Serious!" Sam defended. "Bruce comes and goes just like the rest of us. He pretty much stays at the tower though. We don't have many instances where the Hulk is needed, but Bruce's medical training comes in handy a lot. Even stepped up a notch when you showed up." Sam snickered.

"Are you.....enjoying me hurting them?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Immensely. Clint and I, don't tell him I agree with him, think it's amazing."

Peter didn't stop the upturn of his lip at Sam's grin.

"Omega's don't typically kick their alpha's asses on the regular. I mean, I've heard of those mutant omegas at Xavier's going out and fighting, but I've never seen them do it in person. You, on the other hand, I have watched fling every alpha on the team around like rag dolls. It's humbling really."

Sam's laughter filled the small space between him and Peter.

"Well, I do have a history of fighting the hierarchy." Peter smiled.

"Tell you what," Sam said, holding out his hand. "Let's start fresh. No alternate identities. Just two guys meeting at a bar. I'm Sam Wilson."

Peter looked at the outstretched hand and up at Sam's face. His spider-sense remained, as it had the entire time, silent. Slowly, Peter took the outstretched hand.

"Peter Jones."

Sam raised and eyebrow.

"Doesn't surprise me." Peter rolled his eyes. "Of course you'd all know my real name."

"Why change it?"

"Because a version of me existed here at one time." Peter replied, looking away. "I can't be Peter Parker when he's dead."

"I guess not one that looks just like him." Sam nodded. "I'm guessing there's also family then?"

"Yeah." Peter replied, not willing to say more.

"Alright then, Peter Jones, it was nice to meet you. I better be getting back home though." Sam smiled, standing up and taking his jacket off the back of the chair.

"You'll cover that for me, right?"

Peter looked down where Sam nodded at the empty glass.

"No way Wilson."

"To think, I wanted to be nice to you." Sam said, pulling some bills out of his pocket.

"There's no such thing as free alcohol, man." Peter grinned.

"Then what's the point of being friends with the bartender?"

"The fabulous company?"

"I know that's what you get, I'm still trying to figure out what I'm getting." Sam smirked.

"I'll tell you what, this time." Peter's grinned turned wicked. "You'll get to keep a place you can go where the other Avengers can never bother you. I'll personally see to their exits if they ever show up."

Sam barked out a laugh as he straightened out his jacket.

"Well, if they ever show up, it won't be because of me. With that said, I appreciate your willingness to uphold the sanctity of my sacred drinking hole."

The two nodded at each other as Sam walked out the door, followed shortly after by the last of Luke's customers.

"You ok?" Luke asked as he restocked the bar while Peter swept.

"Surprisingly, yeah. Dealing with just Sam was way different than the others."

"Well, being a beta probably helps." Luke shrugged, not wanting to verbally address the other issues.

"Maybe." Peter nodded.

"You worried you'll have more 'customers'?" Luke asked after a moment. "I can't exactly say I can ban the Avengers..."

"No." Peter said, looking up at Luke. "I'm actually not."

Luke stopped and raised an eyebrow.

"You do realize-"

"I don't think he'll tell. Not them anyway. Maybe Barton and Dr. Banner, but not them."

"Well, I heard about Banner, but what about Barton. What's the feelings on him?"

Peter stopped sweeping, letting his thoughts gather themselves.

"He was just as ruthless as the others in my world. Tony made him explosive arrows. He caused so much damage with those. Lots of innocent people lost their homes and their lives. I don't trust him any more than the others."

Peter's face turned stony as he thought about the archer.

"He shot me in the back once. Went right through my right side."

"He did what?" Luke growled, walking from behind the bar and over to Peter.

"Yeah, right here." Peter said, lifting his shirt and tracing the scar on the side of his stomach, then moving to the part on his back.

Luke looked at the two scars, not missing a few others as well.

"Jesus, kid."

"I keep trying to tell you all. The Avengers can't be trusted this blindly! They could turn at any moment, and you could end up with the same scars as me......or worse."

Luke frowned as he watched Peter try to keep his breathing calm. He wasn't sure Peter having contact with Sam was a good idea anymore. It didn't matter what intentions the man had, being around him definitely opened Peter up to chances of having to see the other members of the team.

"I worry though, that I'm letting positive memories of Sam cloud my judgement here." Peter sighed. "I'm worried desperation for that connection is taking over."

"You can always keep to meeting here. You never have to meet him anywhere you don't want to." Luke shrugged. "I know you're tired of hearing it kid, so I'll save a lot of it."

Peter frowned, unsure of exactly what Luke was going to say.

"I don't have a problem with the Avengers, but I'm also not you. I don't have your past, so my opinion means nothing. Sam though, Sam's not an alpha. He's a beta with no romantic interest in you. I don't think it would be a big deal to consider the option of some form of friendship with him. Shit on the others if you don't want to."

Peter didn't know what to say. He was genuinely worried as to what accepting Sam's offer might lead to. The worst scenarios running through the forefront of his mind. Still, the possible benefits kept pushing their way in.

"I'll think about it.

[deja-you]

ten ways to say (i love you)

t. jefferson x reader

summary: Thomas has never liked the conventional way of saying ‘I love you.’

word count: 6.1k

warnings: a little bit of angst, high school, karen

masterlist

1.

There is no better way to start off senior year than arriving late to your first class.

In Y/n’s defense, she had left her house early. For once in her life she was actually going to be early to school. She was so proud of herself, and was so certain that she had extra time, Y/n allowed herself to stop at a drive thru and pick up a drink as a reward. Everything was going according to plan. 

That is, until the Karen in the car in front of her decided she wasn’t pleased with her order and made the barista redo it. To make sure she didn’t mess up Karen’s order a second time, the barista was extra careful. And extra slow. Y/n groaned as she watched the time tick by minute by minute. Just her luck.

Y/n watched the barista hand the drink to the Karen and breathed a sigh of relief. Yet, Karen’s car didn’t move. She had her drink, but Karen continued to talk with the barista. Y/n cursed under her breath and banged her head on the steering wheel. She must have been more aggressive than she was expecting, because she accidentally honked her horn. 

She jumped back in shock at the loud noise. Karen poked her head out of her window and immediately began lecturing Y/n on how rude she was being. At least, that’s what Y/n assumed she was saying, she really couldn’t hear the Karen with her windows rolled up. Y/n bit her lip, gave the Karen a little wave, and mouthed an apology.

Eventually Karen had finished her rant and left the drive thru. Y/n got her drink, no longer a reward, more like a consolation now, and sped to school. There weren’t any other students in the parking lot by the time Y/n arrived, remind her of just how late she was. Y/n shoved all her materials in her backpack, locked her car, and quickly walked into the building. 

Of course, Y/n’s first class just had to be with Mr. Rousseau. Any other teacher would just let her tardiness slide. She opened the door to Mr. Rousseau’s classroom, and any conversation that was being had stopped. More than a dozen pairs of eyes turned their attention to her, and Y/n wanted to melt right there and then.

“Miss L/n, nice of you to join us.” Mr. Rousseau addressed her. He narrowed his eyes at her, leaning against his desk as he sized her up. “If you’re done being a distraction to my class, I’d appreciate it if you would take a seat.”

Y/n swallowed roughly, and nodded. Rousseau went back to lecturing the class on how his class would be run, and Y/n did her best to find a seat as quietly as she could. She instinctively made her way over to where her best friends, Abigail and Thomas were sitting. 

Thomas moved his backpack off the desk next to him, and mouthed, “I saved you a seat.”

She gave him a grateful smile and mouthed back a ‘thanks.’ 

Abigail leaned forward and whispered, “Mr. Rousseau wasn’t very amused with you being late, huh?”

“I swear he hates me,” Y/n insisted. 

Thomas rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t hate you, hon’.”

“Thomas is right,” Abigail said. “Mr. Rousseau doesn’t hate you especially. Everyone knows he just hates women.”

2.

Late night study session was code for hanging out at John Adams’s house and messing around.

Abigail was dating John, so Y/n was friends with him and his friends by association. Abigail, Dolly, and Y/n were actually trying to study. John and James were discussing the football team’s chances of winning their next game. Martha and George had snuck off to get freaky somewhere. 

“Okay, Dolly.” Abigail held up a flash card. “What can you tell me about the defenestration of Prague?”

“Um, people were thrown out of windows for fun?” Dolly replied lazily. 

“No. Well, I guess you’re not completely wrong...”

Y/n threw her body against the back of the couch and closed her eyes. If she had to stay here any longer, Y/n would throw herself out a window. Not that she didn’t want to hangout with her friends. After a long day of school, she wasn’t exactly thrilled to spend more time with the people she spent the whole day with. If it wasn’t for her fragile social status, Y/n would have already been home in her bed right now.

“Sorry m’late, had to drop my sister off at a gymnastics class. Or fencing. Or Italian. Honestly, I can’t remember.” Thomas walked into the living room where everyone was hanging out.

“Ah, yes. I had almost forgot that the Jeffersons are all overachievers,” Y/n said with and eye roll. 

He wore an easy grin as he made his way over to Y/n, leaning against the couch and staring down at her. “What can I say? We’re just built different.”

Y/n scoffed but refused to dignify him with any further response. Instead, she closed her eyes again, pretending she was back at home under warm covers. 

“I brought you food.” 

This caught Y/n’s attention. She slowly opened one eye to see if he was telling the truth. Thomas held up a bag of fast food he must’ve picked up on his way over. Y/n couldn’t help but smile as she sat upright.

“For me?” She asked.

“Of course, hon’.” He handed her the bag. “I know you didn’t have time for lunch today, and I know you likely wouldn’t have gotten around to eating anything yet.”

Y/n happily pulled out an order of large fries out of the bag. “Have I ever told you how amazing you are, Thomas?”

“Not often enough.”

“Well. You are amazing. So amazing.”

Y/n finished her fries and was looking through the rest of the bag to see what else he had gotten her when John called out to her. 

“Hey, Y/n,” John said, “what are your thoughts on my cousin?”

“You mean Sam Adams?” Y/n asked. 

“Yep. The very one.”

She shrugged. “He’s cute. Why?”

“He thinks you’re cute. Wanted me to ask if you’re single,” John said nonchalantly. 

Abigail took time away from quizzing Dolly to get invested in the conversation. “She’s very single. Right, Y/n? You and Sam would be so cute together!”

Y/n could feel her cheeks begin to heat up, and she suddenly found the hardwood floors very interesting. “I don’t know... he really thinks I’m cute?”

“S’what he said,” John replied. “Can I give him your number?”

She weighed her options before giving a shrug. “Yeah, why not?”

“Y/n and Sam? I totally ship it,” Dolly said.

“Right?” Abigail grinned. “They’re going to be such an attractive couple.”

“Okay, can we stop talking about this now? I’m here to study,” Y/n insisted, pulling out a textbook.

“I’d rather not fail tomorrow’s test,” Thomas agreed.

Everyone begrudgingly went back to their previous activities, and Thomas took that moment to sit next to Y/n on the couch. She was flipping through the pages of her textbook before she came to a stop. Y/n passed the textbook to Thomas and pointed to the painting on the page.

“Look, this one’s my favorite,” she said.

“Wanderer above the Sea of Fog,” Thomas read. “You’re a fan of Caspar David Friedrich, then?”

Y/n shrugged. “I’m just a fan of the Romantic movement in general. Everything was just so creative, and beautiful, and emotional. There’s just so much feeling in this painting. It’s overwhelming.”

Thomas frowned looking back at the painting, and then back to Y/n. “It certainly is romantic.”

She gave the painting one last look before she began flipping through the pages of the textbook again. Thomas watched her curiously as she read over the vocabulary words for that week. Finally, he decided to say what was on his mind. 

“So, you and Sam Adams, huh?” He nudged her gently with his shoulder.

Y/n bit her lip and focused on a peculiar tchotchke the Mrs. Adams had decorated the living room with. “I guess. I used to have a crush on him in middle school, remember?”

“That’s right. Abbie and I spent most of science class teasin’ you about that. No wonder you’re so bad at physics now.”

She frowned and playfully bumped her shoulder with his. “I’m not bad at physics.”

“Really?” Thomas considered her with eyebrows raised. “Remember that botched science experiment that nearly killed Mr. Newton?”

“Can we not talk about that? He’s still alive, isn’t he?”

He hid an amused look. “Whatever you say, honey.”

3.

You’re tired. The sheets are too hot. It’s been a long day, your body is exhausted. The air in your bedroom is too cold. Your mind is tired, too. The sheets are too hot. If you just close your eyes and stop thinking you’ll be asleep in minutes. The air in your bedroom is too cold. Not thinking isn’t exactly easy. The sheets are too hot. Go then if you must, but remember, no matter how -- damn you, Sophocles, and your terribly beautiful words. 

Thomas threw his covers off his body and sat up in bed. He wasn’t going to get much sleep no matter how hard he tried. Thomas rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, if there had been any sleep to begin with. 

There was no doubt that he was tired mentally and physically. Emotionally? His heart was eternally restless. He crossed his room to sit at his desk, fully accepting that sleep wasn’t a viable option anymore. 

The blue light from his computer was a harsh contrast to the darkness of his room, but his eyes adjusted quickly. Thomas didn’t even know what he was doing on his computer in the middle of the night.

His fingers knew. They opened up an application and began scrolling. No, no, no, yes. Perfect. No, no, no, no, no, yes. This is her. And this went on for an hour or so, Thomas lost track of time. He’d be tired tomorrow, but he wasn’t going to get any sleep until he was finished. 

When he actually was finished, he smiled contentedly to himself. A wave of calm washed over him, and before he knew it, Thomas was back in his bed falling asleep. 

He looked terrible the next morning. Well, as terrible as a Jefferson could look. He had still had the sense to dress nicely, collared shirt, sweater, ironed pants, polished dressed shoes. Thomas was still sharp as ever in all his classes, but anyone who really knew him could tell he was a mess. 

“You okay, Thomas?” Y/n asked at lunch in Mr. Locke’s classroom (Mr. Locke was kind enough to let a group of moody teenagers eat lunch in his class, the lunchroom just wasn’t cool enough for them).

“Hm? Yeah. I’m great.”

Y/n cocked her head to the side. “You sure? You seem tired.”

“Don’t worry about me. Actually, I have something for you.” Thomas fished his phone out of his pocket.

“You have something for me?”

“Yeah, I’m sending it now. Check your phone.”

She raised an eyebrow, but Y/n opened up her phone to check the text Thomas had sent her. 

“Sophocles and Serotonin.” Y/n read aloud. “What is this?”

“I made you a playlist of songs I thought you might like.”

“Seriously?” A smile played on her lips; Thomas couldn’t help but reflect it. “When did you have the time for this?”

He shrugged. “I have more free time than you’d think.”

“With all your APs, varsity sport, and extracurriculars? I highly doubt that.” Y/n looked up at him, a teasing lilt transparent in her tone. “I appreciate the playlist even more, knowing you took time out of your rigorous schedule to create it. Thanks, Thomas.”

She leaned forward on the desk she was seated on to press a kiss to his cheek. Thomas froze like a deer in headlights, and if Y/n noticed, she didn’t say anything. He put himself back together before she could notice he was momentarily put-off, and leaned back against another desk in an attempt to look cool.

“S’what do you have planned for after school?” He asked in his best nonchalant voice. 

“Well, Sam and I are going to go see a movie.”

“That’s still a thing, then?”

Y/n shot him a look that had him raising his hands up in surrender. “Yes, it’s still a thing. I really like him, okay? He’s a good guy.”

“But is he good enough for you?” Thomas crossed his arms, his eyes not leaving her’s. It wasn’t that Thomas didn’t like Sam. Sam was great. It was just a fact that no guy would ever be good enough for his best friend. 

“He is.” She said with an eye roll. “Why do you care anyway?”

“Hon’, I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Oh trust me, I know.”

4.

Summer had felt like an eternity ago, when in reality, it had been less than two months ago. The yellow leaves and the updated fall Starbucks menu were enough to convince anyone that it had always been October. 

It had taken a lot of convincing and a little bit of bribery to convince Thomas to attend the Homecoming football game, but with the assistance from Abigail, Y/n had eventually gotten Thomas to cave. She wanted him there, but more importantly, she wanted him to give her a ride there. 

Of course she could have taken her own car, but Y/n would rather not waste her own gas when she could use Thomas’s instead. It’s not like it mattered to him, his parents paid for his car, insurance, and gas anyway. Plus, his Mercedes Benz had a seat warming function that Y/n couldn’t get enough of. 

She spent most of the ride over to the stadium raving over his seat warmers, and Thomas spent most of the ride making fun of how excited she was about seat warmers. Eventually, they parked outside of the stadium, and Thomas paid for their entrance fee into the stadium.

“It’s co--” before Y/n could finish her sentence, remarking on the obvious cold weather, Thomas had handed her a sweatshirt. She looked down at the maroon sweatshirt, then back at Thomas, her mouth slightly open. “You brought an extra sweatshirt for me? I didn’t even ask.”

“You didn’t have to ask,” he shrugged. She put on the sweatshirt and stared at him with wide eyes. Thomas glanced at, bit the inside of his lip, and shook his head. “Now, don’t go thinking I care about you or somethin’ like that, hon’. Couldn’t have you taking the sweatshirt I’m wearing, then I’d be cold.”

She looked at him with a smug smile on her face that made him regret bringing her the sweatshirt in the first place. “Yeah? Is that all?”

“Yes, that’s all.” He was doing his best to act annoyed by all her questioning, but he couldn’t help but find it endearing. When he came up with another argument, he added on, “besides, ma would be upset with if she knew I let you freeze. It seems like she loves you more than she loves me sometimes.”

“That’s because she does,” Y/n pointed it out like it was obvious. “Can you blame her? I’m funny and adorable. You’re just a grumpy old man I have to drag to football games.”

“That’s it. Give the sweatshirt back. I hope you freeze.” Thomas was giving her the dirtiest look he could muster. Y/n had the audacity to throw her head back and laugh.

She reached into her purse, and after some digging around, she pulled out a five dollar bill from her wallet. Y/n thrusted the money into Thomas’s hand and pushed him in the direction of the concession stand. “Here. Go get us some popcorn, maybe you won’t be so irritable once you get some food in you. I’m going to go find some seats.”

Thomas grumbled something about “not being irritable” but nonetheless ventured off toward the concessions. Y/n climbed the steps up the stadium and immediately found Abigail sitting in the student section, all decked out in school colors and face paint. Abigail greeted Y/n with a warm hung, then holding her at an arms length, she took note of what her best friend was wearing.

“Is that Thomas’s sweatshirt?” Abigail asked.

Y/n looked down at the the University of Virginia sweatshirt she had wrapped around herself. “Hm? Oh yeah, it is.”

Abigail pursed her lips and mulled over this new information. “What’s going on between you and Thomas?”

“What d’ya mean? We’re friends.” Y/n pursed her lips. 

“And Thomas knows that?” Abigail observed Y/n. “Do you know that?”

Y/n narrowed her eyes at her friend. “Yes, of course I know that. I’m dating Sam now, okay? Thomas and I have always just been friends, and that’s all we’ll ever be.”

Abigail held her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. If you say so, I’ll believe you. I just don’t want any feelings to get hurt between the two of you.”

“There are no feelings between the two of us,” Y/n said, but she wouldn’t stop thinking about Abigail’s words for the rest of the night.

5.

All week, Thomas had dreamt about the mint chocolate chip ice cream that was waiting for him in the freezer. 

It was his favorite flavor, and there was just enough left in the carton for one last bowl. He had promised himself he wouldn’t eat the last of it until he had really deserved it. After spending a productive hour studying for the test he had tomorrow, Thomas decided he had finally earned that delectable bowl of artificially colored green ice cream. 

He made his way to the kitchen, humming an upbeat tune and sliding across the hardwood floor in his socks. Thomas had made it all the way to the freezer when there was a knock at the front door. 

Thomas paused. He was so close to getting his ice cream. Maybe it was just a delivery? He debated answering the bowl or ignoring and continuing to dish himself ice cream. Thomas was leaning toward his bowl of ice cream when there was a knock at the door again. With a scowl on his face, he abandoned the fridge and any hope for happiness he had left and made his way to the front door.

“Y/n?” He said in surprise when he opened the door.

“Hi, Thomas. I didn’t know who else to come to. Abigail’s out with John right now. Dolly and Martha aren’t good in situations like this,” she was speaking quickly, sniffling between sentences, and trying not to let any more tears fall down her cheeks. “I just--”

He interrupted Y/n by pulling her into his house and his arms. Y/n melted into his touch, her hands gripping his shirt as she hugged him back. 

“What happened?” Thomas asked softly, rubbing circles into her back with his thumbs.

“Sam and I broke up.”

Thomas sighed softly and rested his chin on her head. He bit his lip, weighed his options, and came to a reluctant conclusion. Thomas pulled away just enough that he could look Y/n in her bloodshot eyes.

“I think this is the part where we break out the ice cream, huh?”

She offered him a miserable smile. “Ice cream couldn’t hurt.”

He led her to his kitchen and began digging through the kitchen while she hopped onto the counter to sit. Thomas hid a frown from Y/n while in the process of pulling out the nearly empty carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream. 

“So you want to tell me what happened?” Thomas asked, pulling out a bowl from one of the cabinets.

“It wasn’t a bad breakup.” Despite her words, Y/n still wiped at her tears with the sleeves of her shirt. “We mutually agreed it was best for both of us.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “He’s just not... he’s not the one.”

Thomas felt something twist and turn in his stomach, but he knew it wouldn’t be right to be happy when his friend was so miserable. He did his best to hide the smile that wanted to form in the corners of his mouth. “M’sorry about that, honey.”

“I know it was the right decision,” she said, staring up at the ceiling in an attempt not to let any more tears stream down her face. “Doesn’t mean it hurts any less, though.”

“It’s normal to be upset after a break up,” Thomas shrugged.  

“You’re not going to have any ice cream?” Y/n asked quietly as he handed her a singular bowl.

“Not in the mood for it,” he lied. 

6.

“You get enough sleep last night, hon’?”

Y/n was in mid-yawn when he asked her the question. She held a hand over her mouth and nodded. “Yeah. Why?”

“You look terrible.”

She scowled at him. “Wow. Just what a girl wants to hear. Anyone ever tell you you’re a charmer, Thomas Jefferson?”

“You’d be surprised.” He gave her a teasing smile. “So who’s the cause for your sleepless nights?”

“Napoleon Bonaparte.” She held up her textbook for him to see. “Why’d I ever let you convince me to take an AP class with you?”

“Because you like spending time with me?”

“Nah, that’s not it.”

“Ouch.” Thomas held a hand over his heart. “You really stayed up late studying for the quiz?”

“Some people have to study, okay? Not everyone’s as gifted as Thomas flippin’ Jefferson.”

“Flippin’?” He stifled a laugh.

“We’re at school. Gotta keep it PG, right?” She shrugged. “So yeah, I stay up and study sometimes. High schoolers aren’t supposed to get a good amount of sleep. S’not a big deal.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes I worry about you.”

She tilted her head to the side and gave him a small smile. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Believe me, if I could just shut it off, I would. I’ll make you a Quizlet next time so you can get more sleep.”

Y/n was about to say something in response when her phone began ringing in her pocket. “I should get this.”

She went out into the hallway to answer the call, and Thomas turned back to his lunch, not even bothering to hide his smile. 

“Thomas.”

He jumped at the sound of a voice and turned to see Abigail sitting at the desk across from him. Had she been listening to them the whole time? Thomas had completely forgotten she was there; a fact he would be certain not to share with her.

“Yes, Abbie?”

“Do you have a crush on Y/n?” 

Thomas blinked a few times, certain that he hadn’t heard Abigail right. “Excuse me?”

Abigail rolled her eyes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You heard me right, Jefferson. Do you have a crush on Y/n?”

“Y/n? Where’d you get that idea?” Thomas made a face like he was disgusted by the very thought of it.

“Oh, I don’t know. You’re always following her around and doing whatever it takes to make her happy. Not to mention you always call her “hon’,” seems pretty affectionate to me.” Abigail had a talent for laying out the facts.

“We’ve been friends since I can remember, of course I care about her. So what if I have a nickname for her? Doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s not like you have a nickname for anyone else.”

“I call you ‘Abbie’. I have a nickname for everyone.”

“We both know that’s a load of B.S. Are you really telling me you don’t like Y/n?”

“I don’t like Y/n.” And it wasn’t exactly a lie, because the feelings he had for Y/n had progressed far beyond liking. 

7.

“There’s nothing people appreciate more than a hand-made gift, right?” Y/n said, pulling out a ball of azure colored yarn.

Thomas crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against a wall. “Sure, ‘cept maybe a nice Rolex or a new car.”

She scowled at him. “I don’t know what it is about me that makes you think I can afford a Rolex or a new car. I’m an unemployed high school student. My only income comes from birthday cards from my grandparents.”

“Ah, I see. Well, I’m sure Abigail will love the scarf you make for her.”

“Yeah, how hard could it be?” Y/n muttered, staring at the mess of strings in her lap.

Thomas’s eyes widened a little. “You telling me you’ve never crocheted before?”

“How hard could it be?” She pulled up a beginners guide on YouTube, and five minutes later, Y/n had a knotted pile of yarn in her hands. She huffed in frustration and began to aggressively pull at the yarn.

“Let me help.”

“You know how to knit?” Y/n raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

Thomas rolled his eyes, sitting next to her and taking the “scarf” out of her hands. “This is crocheting. You don’t even have knitting needles.”

“Apologies. You know how to crochet?” 

“Lucy went through a stage where she was really into crocheting,” he shrugged. Thomas had quickly untangled Y/n’s “progress” and began to expertly thread together loops of yarn. He held up his work to her once a pattern had begun to form. “See? Perks of growing up with sisters.”

“I hate that you’re good at everything.” 

He snorted and gently began to move the work into Y/n’s hand for her to finish the rest. “’M’not good at everything. Just most things.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Y/n was now laser focused on the project in front of her, determined to get it right this time. Thomas would advise her, but for the most part he let her work on it by herself. She was a fast learner.

“You’re never going to get it like that, hon--” Thomas caught himself, remembering the conversation he had had with Abigail earlier. “Y/n. You’re never going to get it like that, Y/n.”

She looked up at him with furrowed brows. “What?”

He swallowed roughly and shook his head. “It’s nothing. Just... You’re going to want to pull the yarn tighter or it’s all going to unravel later.”

“Oh. Thanks, Thomas.”

8.

It was 2 a.m., and Y/n had already came to terms with the fact that she wasn’t going to get more than five hours of sleep. She wasn’t exactly trying very hard to sleep. She had tried to refresh her Instagram feed maybe a dozen times now, but it wasn’t like anyone was posting in the middle of the night. Instagram was doing a poor job keeping her mind distracted. 

Lightly biting her bottom lip, she threw her body back onto her bed with a loud sigh. She wrinkled her nose and caved, navigating to the facetime app on her phone. Hesitating one last time, Y/n tapped his contact with her thumb. Her phone began to hum while she waited for him to pick up.

“Hey, Thomas. I know it’s late,” she said when he finally answered the phone. Y/n frowned when she saw him rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, no. Couldn’t sleep anyway,” replied his groggy voice.

“You’re lying. Hey, don’t worry about it. Go back to sleep.”

“I was already up.”

“No, you weren’t. Don’t let me bother you.”

Thomas stopped rubbing his eyes and looked at Y/n firmly through the camera. “Maybe I was asleep, but I’m up now, yeah? Don’t worry about waking me up. I’d rather talk to you any way.”

Y/n pursed her lips, giving him a doubtful look. Thomas was too polite to ever tell someone if they were bothering him. She couldn’t tell if he really wanted to talk to her, or if he was just too courteous to tell her otherwise. 

He noticed the look she gave him and rolled his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” 

“Like you don’t believe me. Would’ve stopped bein’ friends with you years ago if I didn’t find all your annoying habits endearing. Promise.” Thomas shot her a smug smile that made her wish she hadn’t called. 

“So kind of you,” she said sarcastically. 

“I try.” His grin widened, if that was even possible. “So what’d you want to talk to me about?”

Y/n chewed on her bottom lip and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t?” Thomas narrowed his eyes and leaned in closer to the camera. After he had examined her carefully, he leaned back and crossed his arms. “Yeah you do. What is it?”

She shifted, uncomfortable by how easy it was for him to see right through her. Once more that night, she caved. “I can’t stop thinking about how you called me ‘Y/n’ earlier today?”

He tensed up but the action was barely noticeable. “What about it? It’s your name.”

“Sure,” she nodded, “but you never call me ‘Y/n.” It’s always ‘hon’’ or ‘honey.’ Always. Did something happen? Are you mad at me?”

Thomas raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “No, ‘course not. Everything’s fine.” He paused. “That really upset you? Me calling you ‘Y/n’?”

“It’s just not normal.”

“It’s not normal for people to call you by your name?”

“It is, but you are supposed to call me ‘honey.’ Okay?”

He laughed through his nose and couldn’t stop an amused smile from spreading on his lips. “Okay, honey.”

9.

“I’m finally going to get to see your mural, then?”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “It’s not my mural, Y/n. It’s the senior mural. It’s not like I’m painting it.”

“Yeah, but it was your idea.” She gave him a playful nudge. “I don’t know why you haven’t told me what it is yet. I’m sure if the great Thomas Jefferson designed it, it’ll be the best Senior mural ever seen at Charlottesville High School.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, hon’. I’d hate to disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint me,” she said matter-of-factly. “You’re Thomas Jefferson.”

They turned the corner to see their fellow senior, Henrietta Johnston, working on the mural. The previously beige wall was now covered in black, gray, and light blue paint. In the middle of the painting was a figure made up of colorful hand prints standing above the blue-gray sea.

Y/n stared at the mural with an open mouth. She looked from Henrietta to Thomas, then back to the wall in front of her.

“It was my idea to make the figure all colorful with handprints,” Thomas said. “Thought it would be nice to let our class to literally leave a mark on this school.”

Henrietta smiled at the mural and set down her paintbrush. “It was a good idea. The splash of color is just what it needed. What do you think, Y/n? Do you like it?”

“Like it? I love it. It’s... it’s perfect.” She turned to Thomas with wide eyes. “Wanderer above the Sea of Fog. This is my favorite painting.”

“I noticed -- don’t give me that look. It’s not like I care that much. You just never shut up about that painting. It’s annoying, really,” Thomas muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at the ground.

She smiled and turned her attention back to the mural. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I love this. I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Of course. It’s worth it, seeing how much you like it.”

There was a beat of silence.

“You’re the kind of person I could fall in love with, you know that?” She didn’t take her eyes off the painting, and Thomas was glad. 

Maybe if she had looked at him, she would have seen his breath catch in his throat and his eyes widen just a little bit. If he was the kind of person she could fall in love with, then why didn’t she? Thomas was flustered. If Y/n had noticed his lack of response, she didn’t say anything. 

10.

Charlottesville High School was filled with rich kids. The Charlottesville High School debate team had a minimal amount of members. These factors resulted in Thomas and Y/n having their own hotel rooms when they attended a debate function in Washington D.C.

After a long day of debating, Thomas and Y/n walked side by side down the narrow corridor to their respective rooms. Every now and then, they spared looks at each other when they thought the other wouldn’t notice.

Thomas cleared his throat. “So that guy in the green shirt asked me for your number.”

She glanced up at him. “He did? Did you give it to him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Thought he was out of your league. Told him you snored like an ogre and I gave him Maria’s number instead,” he said with a shrug.

She gasped and shoved his shoulder. “Are you kidding me? I don’t snore like an ogre! He was cute and interested in me.”

“Can’t imagine why.”

Y/n scowled. “For your information, I’m adorable. I’m funny and enjoyable to be around. Even if I ‘snore like an ogre’ I’m also extremely attractive, so it makes up for it.”

“You don’t need to sell me on reasons why you’re dateable, honey,” he chuckled softly.

“Oh yeah?”

At the same time, Y/n and Thomas turned to face each other. Their teasing banter stopped when they realized they were only inches apart, he could hear every inhale and exhale. His eyes flicked to her lips. It was only for a second, but she hadn’t missed it. 

Thomas took a step back and cleared his throat. “It’s late, we should go to bed. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she echoed. They both hurriedly stepped into their own rooms. 

Had he almost kissed her? Did that really just happen? Y/n leaned against her hotel room door. Maybe she had just imagined it. She shook her head and grabbed a sweatshirt and a pair of shorts out of her suitcase. Maybe Y/n could stop thinking about it after a good nights rest. She changed and was about to brush her teeth when she felt some kind of nagging feeling inside.

It was naïve to think she was going to get any sleep tonight if she didn’t confront Thomas about it. Y/n set down her toothbrush and made her way out into the fluorescent lit hallway. She had made it all the way to his door when she paused.

Is this really what she wanted to do? If Y/n brought up their almost-kiss, would they be able to go back to friends? Did she even want to go back to friends? Y/n bit her lip and glanced back at her own room door. She should just go to bed, it wasn’t worth putting their friendship in jeopardy. But then again, Y/n would always wonder what could have happened if she didn’t confront him.

She raised her fist to knock on Thomas’s door, but before she could knock, the door swung open. Thomas and Y/n once more stood face to face. She had a wide eyed expression that mirrored Thomas’s.

There was an accelerated heartbeat. A flutter. Thomas’s arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Y/n’s hand found its place on the back of his neck and guided his lips to her’s. His eyes were half open, sneaking glances at her to assure himself he wasn’t dreaming. Her overwhelming scent and the feeling of his hands threaded through her hair was all too real. 

Thomas pulled her into his room, kicking the door closed behind them. Placing both hands on his broad chest, she pushed him back onto the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. 

Thoughts were racing in Y/n’s mind. She tried to put reason to the way he gripped her waist tightly -- there would be bruises there the next day. She tried to put reason to the way his pupils dilated as she went in for another kiss. Y/n came up empty handed.

There was no way Y/n felt the same way, Thomas told himself. There was no way she loved him the way he loved her. For as long as he could remember, he had been in love with Y/n L/n. And for as long as he could remember, she had only seen him as her best friend.

Thomas missed the warmth of her lips when she pulled away, but he couldn’t help but admire the way her lips were swollen and her hair was a mess. Her bright eyes, and the way light highlighted the softness of her skin. Thomas took that moment to memorize every line and curve of her face, branding the memory into his head. 

She leaned in to kiss him again, but he pushed her away this time, sitting up. “Stop. We... we can’t do this. This can’t just be a one time thing.”

“Why not?” Her voice was quiet and delicate.

He felt his heart twist inside his chest and he clenched his jaw. “Because I love you.”

[i-simp-for-gintoki]

Visiting Yuji in Tokyo

“yuji x reader where she was childhood friends with yuji and its basically the friends to lover sort of thing? and basically reader is visiting tokyo and meets up with yuji for the first time in months?? bonus if gojo and megumi are there :)”-anon

Damn its either super short or long no inbetween huh? Sorry if this isn’t exactly what you wanted! Some of the characters are little ooc (when are they not when i write them-).This turned out much much longer than it needed to be

You and Yuji have known each other since kindergarten

He’s such a sweet kid its always really fun to hang out with him

You guys play lots of video games together and are basically inseparable

Constantly reading manga or watching anime its great

Your parents disapproved of you hanging out with a dude all the time but you could care less

Why should you only be friends with your own gender? Thats so stupid

You always wondered about why yuji had such great strength and speed but he says he was just born that way

Hes just built different

Around middle school his grandpa’s health had dropped and was moved to the hospital

You did your best to make sure yuji stayed in good spirits and often visited the older itadori with him

He’s not the best at wording things but hes always there for emotional support

Maybe it was around 7th grade you noticed something was different around yuji

Like he himself hasn’t changed but whenever you look at him your heart just melts

Your thoughts or compliments seem more filled with love for him and thats when you realized you started to fall for him

Thinking the crush would go away you didn’t act much on it

Oh what a fool you were

Around 8th grade yuji had started acting kinda weird around you

He’d be much more easy to fluster and tenses up for a second if you ever make contact

You confronted him about it and cue the very awkward and middle school like confession

“I really like you!

You were so happy you confessed back and said that the only reason you didn’t before was because you feared to ruin your friendship

He says even if he somehow didn’t like you back that something like that wouldn’t effect anything

From then on you guys are such a wholesome couple

All the cuddles

No fancy dates just casual arcade or movie sort of things

His grandpa gave him a hard time but approved of your relationship

Throughout 8th grade summer and the beginning of highschool everything was going great

But a few months into highschool lots of things happened

Yuji’s grandpa had passed away, he and his friends in the exorcist(?) club had gotten hurt and after that night he had weird markings on his cheeks right below his eyes

And to top it all off now he was supposedly moving to tokyo??

“Yuji why are you moving away? My parents would gladly take you in you know”

He tells you he can’t explain why which breaks your heart

“Who are you staying with then??” he stops for a second and it pains him to lie to you. “A distant relative of mine, he works at a private school and thats where i will be going from now on.”

“But what about us?”

And so you guys decided to do a long distance relationship

Every night when you can you call and chat for hours

But thats not enough

You want to be held or hold him, you want to just cuddle or atleast be in the same room

It pains you to have a relationship through a screen and you grow respect for those who do

Trust isn’t an issue since you know yuji wouldnt even think to cheat at all

Probably doesnt even know what the word means

But after a few months you decide to go to tokyo for a few days

With the help of your parents you rent a room in a hotel and head there

Were just gonna pretend your parents are super super chill(and slightly uncaring like my parents would never let me) and lets you go to a whole city by yourself for several nights

You were super nervous and excited

Its your first time visiting a huge city like tokyo and its gonna be the first time you see yuji in months

Itadori was super excited that you were in tokyo

So excited that he got lost trying to head to the hotel you were staying at

After an extra hour you guys finally meet

He walks through the hotel lobby doors and gives a smile and a wave

In an instant you tackle him in a hug which he GLADLY hugs back in

After just holding each other for a while he decides to show you around

Hes still clearly learning the area himself but he’s very excited to show what he does know

“The place over here makes amazing sushi! Oh! And over here they sell little action figures! Oh oh and over here the steak is kinda bad but its cheap so its worth it! And-” you could only smile as he pointed in random directions with one hand, the other was busy holding yours

Buying food from a bunch of random vendors and wearing silly getups you guys take loads of pictures

Tons of hugs and cheek kisses

Yes its frowned upon to be touchy and stuff in public in japan but honestly you guys could care less

The sun was setting and you guys were currently sitting at a park munchkin on some crepes when you turn to him

“Yuji, do you think i could visit who your staying with? I’d hate to impose but i just wanna know if your in good hands”

His chewing pauses

Its not like he didn’t want you tell about jujutsu

But he doesn’t want you to be apart of that world, he wants you to stay as safe as possible with no harm ever headed your ways

With him being a vessel for sukuna gojo had told him that he and his friends could potentially be targeted

Theres a reason sorceres put up cloaks when engaging in battles and its so normal civilians can continue living in peace without the knowledge these monstrosities actually exist

“Mm its a bit sudden and he’s out on a mis-er meeting right now so maybe tomorrow?” he says

You frown, you can tell he’s lying but he wouldn’t do it without a reason

“Fine. But Yuji. Just know that if you ever feel unsafe or want to come back your more than welcome too. There will always be a spot for you at my home” you say hugging him

You both kinda forgot you were holding crepes and when you pulled away from each other laughed as the ice cream and sauce was smeared all over your shirts/jackets

He walks you back to the hotel and says goodnight with a kiss

The next two days went by in a flash

Just spending time with itadori, even if it was just sitting in silence has been the most fun youve had in months

He had showed you many places and has boughten many small trinkets for you to remember

Your phone has grown about 300 photos just from the past couple days with him

It was about midday of your final day in tokyo and so you both wanted to make the best of it

You both where sitting inside a cafe exchanging stories and just chatting when suddenly two people walked in the cafe

One was very tall and had spiked up white hair and was wearing a blindfold, and the other had spiky/messy black hair

You didn’t think much of it at first but did question the blindfold

‘A fashion choice?’

Turning your attention back to yuji you gave him a soft smile as you listened to his ramblings about a manga

“I love you” you said cutting him off

Immediately his face turned red and whatever he was just saying turned into stuttering nonsense

Before he could respond he let out a short yell when someone placed a hand on his shoulder

It was the two dudes who walked in from earlier

“So this is what you’ve been doing.” “Fushiguro! Gojo sensei!”

The shorter one who looks yuji’s age started talking about how it wasn’t good to turn his phone on mute and go out the whole day

The tall one gives you a wave

“Sorry to interrupt your date but we gotta take yuji away for a bit” he says grabbing yuji’s collar

“Wait who are you guys?” you ask and they pause to give short introductions

“Fushiguro Megumi.” “Gojo Satoru, nice to meet ya miss girlfriend” “How did you know??” Yuji says making gojo laugh

“Its pretty obvious, you didn’t do much of a job hiding it” he says pulling yuji a little bit more.

“O-Oh im L/n Y/n, nice to meet you” you say realizing you forgot to introduce yourself

As the three chatted along with each other, you sat in silence as you tried to remember where you heard gojo’s name from

‘Oh yeah, he’s the one who yuji described as his relative. Even if it was really fast since he tends to change subjects whenever i ask’

“Wait Gojo? White hair...blind fold..are you Yuji’s relative?” you ask making both of them pause

They both turn towards yuji who gave a sheepish smile

“Thats me, im his mothers little cousin” Gojo said, a very quick and random asspull

“So why does he call you Gojo-sensei instead of uncle…Satoru?” “Well if im his moms cousin that would make me his cousin once removed wouldn’t it? And he calls me sensei since im a teacher at a school he goes to”

“And what about you?” you ask the other boy

“A classmate.” he says in a very short and uninterested tone

“Welp lets go” Gojo says dragging yuji but he quickly resists

“Wait wait! Sensei can i please stay? Today is her last day here and i don’t know when i will be able to see her again”

The teacher and student stares at each other for a long time

You have literally no clue what the blindfolded man could but thinking its so hard to read him

Then again you just met him so

Gojo sighs and lets go of yuji

“Just this once, and only because im the greatest sensei you’ve ever had. Lets go megumi. See ya miss girlfriend” gojo says walking away with a wave

Megumi looks surprised but follows him “really?” “Yeah yeah its fine, its only a couple of grade 3’s anywa…” as their voices faded when they left the building you gave yuji a look

“Are you going to get in trouble?” “im probably going to die in training…” “huh?” “nothin”

The rest of the day you guys hang out and its mmm

Yuji would be such a good boyfriend hes so wholesome

When its time for you to part he give you a big hug, kiss and ‘i love you’

You do the same and tear up a bit

With one final photo you head back to your home town

You make it a mission to visit tokyo more often and yuji tries to visit you whenever he can from then on

[hamiltonimagines]

Who Would’ve Thought

Pairing: Jasmine x Reader

Request: “A jcj fic where the reader is Daveed or Oak’s “cousin”, and they try to hook you up with her because they know she’s your celeb crush? The reader would be fem btw” @kmsmedine

Word Count: 1.2k

“Daveed, why do I have to do this?” I asked. Daveed was a family friend and though we weren’t blood-related, I considered him like a cousin or brother. I had known him since I was like ten years old, so that meant he knew everything about me. That meant, he knew that I hated surprises. Yet tonight, I found myself getting ready for a blind date that he had set up for me.

“Because you’ve been single for too long and you’re starting to get cranky” Daveed said. “I am totally not cranky, but why can’t you tell me who I’m meeting?” I asked him. “Because it’s a surprise, but you’ll love her. I promise” he said.

I stood up from my vanity, “How do I look?” I asked him. “You look great, now go get your stuff. We’re going to be late” Daveed said, rushing me. “You know, you’re lucky that I love you and I trust you, or I would not go along with this crazy scheme of yours” I told him as we walked to the car.

After of a fifteen minute car ride of me begging Daveed to tell me who the mystery woman was and him telling me no every time, we finally arrived at the restaurant.

Daveed led me inside and we walked over to a booth. There was a girl that was sitting there with her back to us. She had brown, curly hair. We sat down and I realized that I knew exactly who she was. It was Jasmine.

I had seen Hamilton once, but I didn’t meet the rest of the cast. So I found all their Instagrams after the show because I was blown away. Then, I had raved to Daveed for hours on the phone about how stunning Jasmine was. Daveed was very aware of my not-so-subtle crush.

I knew that I had to not let my crush come across, or she would think I was creepy. “Wait...Jasmine, right?” I asked her, pretending like I was unsure. “Yeah, how’d you know?” She asked me, laughing. “I saw Hamilton once, I knew you looked familiar” I said, smiling. “Jasmine, this is Y/N. She’s practically my sister. Y/N, this is Jasmine, one of my best friends” Daveed said, introducing us.

“It’s really nice to meet you” she said, smiling. “Yeah you too! Now Daveed, I think it’s time for you to leave” I said, shooing him away. “Have fun you guys” he said, smirking at us as he left.

“So Y/N, what do you do?” She asked me. “I’m a freelance photographer. So I do all kinds of photo shoots, from weddings to baby pictures” I explained. “So, not to be too forward, but what you’re saying is, if you we were to work out and maybe get married, you would know the right people to take our wedding photos” she flirted.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying” I said, smiling at her. She reached her hand across the table and interlaced it with mine. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re really pretty?” I asked her. “Maybe a few, but it means more coming from you” she said, coyly. “You’re quite a flirt, aren’t you?” I asked her, giggling.

“Only when I like what I see” she said, smiling. “Let’s get out of here, this restaurant is stuffy. Let’s take a walk or get ice cream or something” I suggested. “I love me a spontaneous woman” Jasmine said, as we stood up and left the restaurant.

She interlaced her hand with mine and we walked down the street. “If we’re being completely honest, I may have known who you were when I sat down. I saw Hamilton and I may have developed a slight little crush” I told her, honestly.

“So that explains the blushing when you sat down” she said, giggling to herself. “Ooo wait, this is the best ice cream shop in all of New York! We have to get some” I told her, pulling her towards the ice cream shop.

We ordered our ice cream and Jasmine paid before I could get to it. We were walking down the street, eating our ice cream. I looked over and saw that Jasmine had some ice cream on her nose.

I giggled to myself. “What?” She asked, cluelessly. “You have it on your nose” I said giggling. “Wait really? Where?” She asked, her cheeks turning red. I stepped closer to her and wiped it off her nose with my napkin.

Then I realized how close we were. Our faces were only inches apart. Being around Jasmine made me feel confident, so I cupped her face with one hand and connected our lips.

She kissed me back instantly, her lips tasted like her minty ice cream. She used her free hand and ran it through my hair as we kissed. I felt her tug on my bottom lip with her teeth. Then, she slipped her arm around my waist and pulled me closer to her. We were pressed up against each other and then we pulled away to breathe.

“Wow” I said, under my breath. “Wow is right. As far as first kisses go, that was pretty spectacular” she said, smiling at me. “So do you see a second date in our future?” I asked her, as we continued to walk down the street. “Yeah and a third and a fourth” she said, smiling at me. “Well that is great news” I said.

Jasmine was so easy to be around, we had only just met, but I felt like I’d known her forever. I felt very calm and at peace when I was with her.

“Who would’ve thought” Jasmine said, under her breath. “What?” I asked, confused. “Who would've thought that Daveed would be a good matchmaker” she said, laughing. “Right? I was totally dreading tonight, I thought he would set me up with some crazy girl and I wanted tonight be over as quick as possible. But now, I don’t want tonight to end” I said, cheekily.

“Well who says tonight has to end?” Jasmine proposing. “Well what are you suggesting?” I asked, curiously. “How about we go back to my place? No expectations for anything, by the way. Just to hang out, although maybe a little kissing” she said, smirking.

“I am totally down” I said, smirking back at her. We talked all the way to her apartment. We walked into her apartment and I was instantly drawn to a big open window in her living room.

“Woah look at the view from up here” I said, in awe. “There’s a much prettier view in front of me” Jasmine said, pulling me toward her for a kiss.

That night was fun to say the least. We watched funny television shows. Which lead to us trying to catch popcorn in our mouths while the other person threw it. We turned on some music and had a dance party in the kitchen, while making cookies. Then we had ended up, collapsing on Jasmine’s bed. Exhausted from all the cookies we had eaten. Then we ended up cuddling and falling asleep in each other’s arms.

Needless to say, I would have to remember to thank Daveed for setting me and Jasmine up.

taglist: @someinsanefangirl @laurens-interlude @geekycatlover @fanfic-addict-98 @romanoffs-heart @multifandomwriterx @andreasworlsboring101 @criminallyhamilton @imatyoursurrvicesurr @irlydontknoanymore @sayweird99 @nyxie75 @rileygene11 @daveeds-whore @trost-town @notebookgirl30 @teenag1jealousy @royalstans @elizasfaith @kmsmedine @brunadesuu @roxanne2020

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines!!

[fallinnflower]

all along

s.coups x reader (university!au, fake dating!au, friends-to-lovers)

a/n: the lovely @god1ess​ requested s.coups and “what did you expect,” and i, as per usual, went overboard. pls enjoy.

You like to think you know Choi Seungcheol better than most people. Although you’ve only been friends since starting university, you’ve spent enough time in each other’s presence to pick up on all the little idiosyncrasies in the other’s behavior — you can read his moods, you know when he’s lying, and his habits are practically yours at some points.

So when he asks if you can do him a favor on a Wednesday afternoon, you’re expecting that he forgot to do some paper assignment due Sunday and needs you to kick his ass into gear, not be his fake date to his cousin’s wedding that weekend.

“What?!” You’re so glad you aren’t in the library. Nobody in the quad gives a shit that you’ve just yelled that at Seungcheol, nor that you almost spit a mouthful of iced coffee on him. 

“What do you mean, ‘what’?” Your doe-eyed friend asks innocently, passing you a napkin as you try to collect yourself. “What did you expect?”

“Not that,” you hiss in response. “Also — this weekend? Choi Seungcheol, do you have any idea how hard it’s gonna be to find something to wear in that amount of time?” While you’re running through the contents of your closet in your mind, a smile finds its way across your friend’s face. You hardly notice the mischievous glimmer in his eyes until he takes hold of your hand to get your attention.

“Does that mean we have a deal?” He asks. You slip your hand out of his grasp and (lightly) hit him on the back of the head; despite the lack of force you use, he still rubs it and pouts at you as though he’s in pain.

“On one condition,” you say, sternly. “Nobody ever hears about this. If I have to hear even one joke from Jeonghan or Joshua about this, I swear to god I will leak those photos of you from freshman orientation week, you hear me?” At the prospect of his embarrassing drunken antics being leaked to his ruthless group of friends, he nods solemnly, even going so far as to cross his heart.

“Good,” you say, leaning back in your seat. “Also, you’re paying for my coffees for the next week and a half.” With a sigh of defeat, Cheol nods.

And suddenly, you have yourself a wedding to attend.

You find out over lunch the following day that the reason he even needs a date is that the perpetual thorn in his side that is Yoon Jeonghan decided to tell Mama Choi that Seungcheol has a campus crush. This is news even to you — as is the fact that Jeonghan is on such friendly terms with Cheol’s mom — and considering Seungcheol’s relatively sparse track record in the dating scene you can’t say you’re surprised that news spread fast around his family. His cousin had actually called him earlier and demanded he ask his crush to be his plus one, and despite knowing nothing about this mysterious crush or if they even exist at all, you understand why Seungcheol had been sent into a panic over it all. It makes you feel almost honored he asked you, but then you think about all the work you’ll have to push aside for the wedding festivities and you find yourself irritated once again. 

Not to mention you’re nervous. The immediate Choi family know exactly who you are — you’ve spent a handful of weekends at their house, so Cheol rolling up to the venue with you on his arm is going to be a very different sort of surprise. 

Over the course of lunch, the conversation drifts into what you’ll be wearing, eventually ending with him reluctantly agreeing to accompany you shopping so you can match a tie to whatever dress you manage to pick out. You can’t understand why he expected you to have wedding-worthy attire on a college campus, but it’s his mistake anyways.

You manage to almost forget about the wedding until Friday afternoon rolls around and you’re walking down to Seungcheol’s car to head to the mall.

“You’re paying for bubble tea,” is all you say as you buckle yourself in, and he sighs in mock exasperation.

“I was going to anyway,” he replies. You can’t help but smile cheekily at him as he pulls away from the curb. 

“I know. Just reminding you of your end of the deal.” 

“Like I could forget.”

The rest of the car ride passes with your usual playful banter and loud singing, but you can’t help but feel nervous the closer you get to your destination. Seungcheol hasn’t really seen you dressed up ever, and there’s a distinct possibility he’s going to see you for the first time in a sub-par dress simply because the pickings might be slim. You’re on a budget, after all.

True to his word, Cheol pays for the bubble tea near the mall entrance before the two of you begin your journey to the department store — specifically, the clearance rack.

“It’s an evening reception, right?” You ask, rifling through the racks as Seungcheol holds onto both your drinks. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Does that matter?” You merely nod in response, inspecting a dark blue maxi dress and trying to decide if it can qualify as wedding appropriate. Considering you aren’t in the wedding party, you don’t have to try too hard, but you also aren’t about to go down in the family’s books as Seungcheol’s frumpy wedding date. Ultimately, you take it off the rack and drape it carefully over your arm, continuing your way along the back wall.

After a solid half hour of searching (during which you take many breaks to sip on your drink and analyze certain dresses), you manage to find a half-dozen to try on. As you start heading into the dressing room, you halt at the door, holding the number the attendant gave you.

“Um, do you want me to come out and show them to you?” You ask. Seungcheol’s eyes widen momentarily, but he breaks into a huge grin.

“Of course I do! I’ll wait right out here.” Biting nervously onto your lower lip, you nod at him before making your way into the nearest available stall.

As expected from dresses that have been moved to the discount rack, there seems to be something wrong with the first few you try on. The blue one you had picked is too small, a red one chosen by Seungcheol is far too long to be worn even with heels — the first one you can manage to actually walk out of the room in is a purple halter-style dress that falls just to the tops of your feet. When you exit the room to show Seungcheol, he excitedly implores you to spin, practically beaming when he watches the gently flowing skirt settle around your legs. 

“That’s it,” he says. “That’s the one.” You laugh, although you can’t help but blush at the bright gleam in his eyes as he gazes at you. 

“It’s the only one you’ve seen,” you retort, but he doesn’t look dissuaded in the slightest.

“I don’t need to see any others, this one is perfect.” You catch the attendant smiling at your interaction out of the corner of your eye, and quickly find yourself agreeing with Seungcheol. With the dress decided on, you change back into your regular clothing, keeping hold of the dress and holding one hand out expectantly for your bubble tea as you leave.

“That was easy,” Seungcheol says, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Not so fast, you still need a tie to match this.” Your best friend groans good-naturedly, giving you an exaggerated pout.

“Do we have to? I’m sure I have one that matches, or Josh does—”

“I’m not about to take that risk,” you interrupt. “We are not about to show up to this wedding looking any less than perfect. I want everyone to have a good impression of me.” Cheol snorts as you begin leading him into the tie section.

“As if they’d think otherwise,” he says, standing so close behind you that you can feel his words rumbling through his chest. “They’re all going to love you.” Your heart skips a beat at his words, but you force yourself to shake it off. Grabbing two ties that look to be about the right shade of purple, you hold them up to the dress.

“Which of these do you like more?” You ask, feigning nonchalance. By the time Seungcheol is dropping you back off at your dorm, telling you he’ll pick you up at 2 the following afternoon, you feel as though you’ve run a marathon with the way your heart keeps racing.

Less than twenty-four hours from now, Seungcheol will be introducing you to family and friends as his ‘secret crush’ at his cousin’s wedding. 

In less than thirty-six hours, you’ll both be single again. And you aren’t sure how you feel about it all.

Surprisingly, when Seungcheol comes to pick you up you feel oddly calm. Maybe it’s because you expelled all your nervous energy earlier today, but you even manage to find yourself feeling pretty excited about the whole event. You like weddings — there’s usually cute vows and good food and at least one dance you know how to participate in, and with those thoughts in mind you’re feeling pretty good.

“Wow,” Seungcheol breathes as you exit the dorm building. You find yourself giggling, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear like a nervous schoolgirl. “You look fantastic.”

“Thanks. You don’t look half bad yourself.” Your best friend playfully rolls his eyes at that and opens the car door for you, waiting until you’re settled in the passenger’s seat to shut it and come around to his side.

He also holds the door open for you once the two of you get to the venue, and you gladly take the arm he offers you as you approach the chapel. All the nerves suddenly come back in full-force as you realize that you’re going to actually be introduced to people in a matter of moments. 

The two of you have barely stepped through the doors when Seungcheol’s parents begin calling out to their son. It’s his mother that recognizes you first, immediately opening her arms to you as you approach.

“Y/N!” She exclaims. “You look lovely! Have you gotten taller since I saw you last?” You chuckle, lingering in her reassuring, motherly embrace for a moment before pulling away.

“Just the heels, I’m afraid.” She laughs and moves to hug her son while Papa Choi gives you a quick hug before ushering you into the pew. Seungcheol takes his seat beside you, and, noticing your gaze nervously flitting around the room as many other pairs of eyes began to become trained on you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. You shoot him a grateful smile, and just then everyone is told to rise for the entrance of the bride. Even so, Seungcheol keeps hold of your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours.

The ceremony itself is lovely. You know that Cheol caught you crying during the vows (a bit embarrassing considering you’ve never met the bride nor the groom, but when they started crying you couldn’t help it!), but he didn’t mention it later, which you were grateful for.

“You didn’t tell me your cousin was so pretty!” Is the first thing you say as the two of you get in his car to head to the reception. Seungcheol laughs, eyes scrunching up delightfully as he buckles himself in.

“Would that have mattered?” You pout,

“No, but it would have been nice to know she looks like a model, considering I’m gonna meet her later.” You pull down the sun visor and flick open the mirror, nervously inspecting your makeup for signs of tears. Seungcheol laughs and pulls your closest hand away from your hair, intertwining your fingers over the center console. 

“You look great, Y/N, just relax.” You let out an exaggerated huff but shut the sun visor, focusing on the greenery you two pass as you make your way to the reception. Seungcheol gives your hand a squeeze,

“Just think of all the free food you’re about to have.”

That finally gets a smile out of you.

It turns out Seungcheol’s cousin is as sweet as she is pretty, and you feel starry-eyed watching her dance with her new husband. If you ever get to be that graceful and effortlessly wonderful after college, you’ll really have made it in life after all. Seungcheol sits beside you, shoulders brushing as the both of you are turned towards the dance floor. As the dance comes to a close and everyone begins clapping for the new couple, you lean in towards your date,

“I think I have a new favorite member of the Choi family.” Seungcheol pouts, turning to you.

“She isn’t even a Choi anymore!” You only giggle in response, taking a sip of your champagne. 

With the first dance out of the way, the waiters begin serving the first course of the meal, and you fall into easy conversation with your table. Conveniently, nobody asks too many questions about the specifics of yours and Seungcheol’s ‘relationship,’ since his parents and the aunt and uncle sitting with you have seen you on his social media. You spend the dinner course drinking champagne and eating to your heart’s content, bonding almost too easily with Seungcheol’s aunt. Eventually, though, your conversation is interrupted by the cutting of the cake — which, really, is pretty welcome considering how long you’ve all had to sit looking at it on its big table.

Once the cake has started to get properly cut, the three men offer to bring back cake for their respective dates, and you feel your heart flip slightly at the term being directed towards you. Seungcheol’s aunt excuses herself to go speak with the bride and her mother, leaving just you and Mama Choi at the table.

“I knew it,” Seungcheol’s mom says, watching as Seungcheol and his dad laugh their way through the dessert line to bring cake back for the table. 

“Knew what?” You ask, turning your fond gaze from the pair. Seungcheol’s mom smiles warmly at you, gently nudging you with her elbow.

“That you two would end up together. He was smitten from the start, I could tell from the way he talked about you. I didn’t think it would take this long for him to make a move, but, as soon as Jeonghan told me Cheollie had a crush, I knew it was you.” She chuckles good-naturedly, gaze drifting back to her husband and son. You find yourself following her gaze, hoping that the dim lighting does enough to cover your red cheeks as Seungcheol turns and flashes you a grin, sending your heart into a frenzy.

The moment he turns away, you cast your gaze downward and take a sip of your water, examining the tablecloth as you try to calm your racing heart. How naive were you — the both of you — to think that this was just a silly game? When all was said and done, you realized, things couldn’t be the same. There would be no way to explain to his family how you so quickly slipped in and out of a romantic relationship without any residual awkwardness. All these people would think differently of you from now on — no matter how amicable the fabricated breakup was, you would always be the girl that broke their Seungcheol’s heart.

Even though you can see Cheol and his dad beginning their trek back to the table, you excuse yourself and slip away to the back, ignoring your fake boyfriend’s worried gaze on the back of your head. 

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Seungcheol is waiting for you outside the bathroom when you emerge, brows furrowed in concern and a pout tugging at his lips. Although you had known to expect it, you still don’t feel prepared to face him, feeling your chest tighten the moment his eyes meet yours.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asks, gently brushing strands of hair away from your eyes. You watch as his gaze carefully traces your features, the backs of his fingers pressed to your forehead. “You look really pale.” If he wasn’t frowning before, he certainly is now, and you nervously clench your hands into fists, feeling your nails biting into your palms. 

“No,” you whisper, voice shaky. “No, I’m not okay. Cheol, what were we thinking?” Although you’d just spent minutes in the bathroom talking yourself down from the verge of tears and schooling your breathing, you can already feel the stinging in your eyes begin again. You sniff loudly and blink up at the ceiling, only looking back down when Seungcheol’s hands gently grasp your face and force you to meet his gaze.

“What do you mean?” He asks. “Did somebody say something? If someone was rude—” You shake your head, closing your eyes as you feel the first tears welling up to your lashes. Cheol’s thumbs gently swipe under your eyes, catching the teardrops before they can fall. 

“Everyone has been so nice to me,” you say, softly, afraid if you speak louder your voice will crack, “They’re going to hate me when this is over, Cheol, we didn’t think this through.” Your best friend doesn’t say a word, just gently pulls you into his arms as you struggle to keep yourself from sobbing. 

“You should’ve listened to your cousin,” you whisper. “You should’ve asked your crush and then at least you wouldn’t have been lying about who you brought. Even if she’d said no, you would’ve been able to tell them the truth—”

“Y/N,” he interrupts, his hold on you tightening for a brief moment. He runs a reassuring hand up and down the length of your spine, the other cradling the back of your head, engulfing you in his familiar warmth. Eventually, you manage to get your breathing under control, but as you begin to pull away your surprised to find that Seungcheol simply moves so both his arms are around your waist, keeping you close to him.

Before you can manage to form a coherent question, Seungcheol lets out a nervous sigh and glances up at you through his lashes.

“I know this is probably the worst time to tell you this but, um, I actually did ask my crush to come with me.” You cock your head to one side slightly, wondering why his cheeks are turning so pink at this confession.

“And they said no? Who was it?” You immediately feel guilty for asking, but Seungcheol doesn’t look sad when his gaze lifts to meet yours — in fact, his eyes seem to be sparkling, his face even redder than before.

“No,” he says. “They said yes, technically.” 

“What?” You ask, scrunching your face up in confusion. “If they said yes, then why am I here?”

“That’s the thing,” he starts, grinning sheepishly at you. He lifts one hand from your back to cradle your cheek, and you feel your heart skip a beat. “It is you. To be honest, I thought I was pretty obvious.” 

For a moment, all you can do is blink up at Seungcheol, looking for any hint of dishonesty in his face even though you know this isn’t the sort of thing he would joke about. You aren’t really sure what to do, to be honest. It would be a lie to say you’d never considered Seungcheol in a more than friendly light, but after being friends for so long you had assumed it was a hopeless endeavor. You can feel your heart start racing again, the tips of your ears and your cheeks warming up with an impending blush — so, like the child you are, you let out a whine and hide your face in the crook of his shoulder. 

“You jerk,” you complain, voice half muffled by Cheol’s embrace. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I got worried for no reason!” The laughter that serves as his reply feels as though it rumbles through your own chest as he hugs you tighter, his hand continuing to rub up and down your back. You feel a soft, warm touch on the crown of your head and look up in surprise, finding Seungcheol positively beaming down at you. 

“So, does that mean you’re okay with being my girlfriend officially?” He asks, the cheeky grin on his face telling you he already knows the answer. You sigh and loop your arms around his neck, though you aren’t quite able to keep yourself from smiling as you gaze into his eyes.

“Fine,” you reply, gently reaching up with one hand to fix his hair. He turns his head and presses a quick kiss to your wrist, before leaning in to capture your lips with his own. The moment is perfect as you both pull away, foreheads pressed together, yet you can’t help but tease him like always, a devilish smile curling at your lips,

“But your cousin is still my new favorite Choi.” Seungcheol lets out a whine and pouts, but he brightens up a bit when you press a kiss to his cheek and remind him,

“Come on, we still have cake to eat.”

Maybe Seungcheol’s mom was right all along.

[artzychic27]

Heart Thief

Before arriving at Dupont, Marc went to Vadim Bastille Collège and lived the life of those high school princesses you see in teen movies (Minus all of the drama, backstabbing, and the occasional bursting into song). He was liked by everyone including the teachers, he was president of the writing, fanfiction, and GSA club, had an amazing group of friends, and best of all, an amazing boyfriend.

Lucien Rebois was the most sought after boy at school. Tall, tan, captain of the fútbol team and took every team he was on to victory, super popular, charming, and the nicest guy you’ll ever meet. What more could a person want in a boyfriend? Girls would always try to ask him out, but he turned every single one of them down, even the most popular girls at school. Everyone wondered why until the day of the championship game when everything came to light

Marc and his friends cheered their school’s team on as they made the winning goal. While the crowd was still in a frenzy, Lucien grabbed a microphone and quieted everyone down when he said that he had to make an announcement…

“… Gimme an ‘M’!”, he shouted into the mic, forming an M with his arms. The crowd complied and mirrored him, while Marc and his friends just looked at each other in confusion

“M!”

“Gimme an ‘A’!”

“A!”

“Gimme an ‘R’!”

“R!”

Mehdi, a Cuban boy with brown hair dyed pink, and Vice President of the GSA squealed when he realized what Lucien was spelling, “He’s gonna say C!”. Syd, a a Vietnamese student nodded in agreement

Marc sputtered, “W-what?! No! He’s not!”

“Wait for it, Mar-Mar.”, Madelyn, a stocky Creole girl with a half-shaved head told him

“Gimme a ‘C’!”

“C!”

She smirked, “I knew it!”

“What does that spell?!”, Lucien asked as he pointed to the crowd. From where he stood, Marc blushed when he realized that Lucien had spelled his name

“Marc!”, the students shouted, a few looked at Marc grinning. He was sure this had to be a prank.

“Come on! Lemme hear you!”, he encouraged

“MARC!”, The students shouted again. Even a few teachers joined in. Lucien’s eyes never left the green-eyed boy, neither did the smile on his face as he spoke to him like they were the only people on the field

“I love you, Marc Anciel. Did I mention that?”, Marc smiles when he realized that the most popular boy in school was being sincere, and he truly felt this way about him. On the field, Marc could hear a few of the cheerleaders screaming with envy, knowing Lucien was gay and off the market. They ran away in tears

Lucien pointed towards the band, “Gimme a beat!”

“Un, deus, trois, quatre!”

Marc couldn’t believe this was happening. It was like something out of a fairytale. He looked around to see if this was real, and it was. When Lucien sang a love song about how he would give everything up for just one kiss, when he threw his jersey into the crowd, and Marc caught it, when he crowd-surfed over to him, and when he asked him to the dance… It was all real...

—

They were the cutest couple at school. They went on amazing dates, and went as a couple to every school event. Lucien even tried to switch classes so he could be closer to Marc, which the writer and other students found so sweet. Lucien has to be the best boyfriend ever. Generous, considerate, loyal, protective…

...A little too protective, though. Dating Lucien meant having the fútbol team on your side. When he heard about some homophobic student messing with Marc, Lucien sent the entire team to “take care of him”. No one’s seen that student in a while.

Lucien was also kind of clingy. Marc can’t remember the last time he’s hung out with his friends; he was always going on at least twenty dates with Lucien. Then one day, the students gave Marc a new nickname, ‘Lucien’s pet’, after he was given a red choker necklace with a silver heart dangling on a small chain, and on the heart was ‘L.R.’ He would always treat Marc like his property, but did it in a slow subtly way: Having his hands on Marc at all times, slowly separating him from his friends, then at one point, trying to dictate what he wore.

Madelyn was finally able to get some alone time with Marc and told him all about toxic relationships. And those examples sounded exactly like the situation he was in right now.

With some encouragement from his friends, Marc was finally found the courage to break up with Lucien after eight long months, and everything was back to normal. Marc didn’t have someone constantly following him around and keeping him away from his friends or threatening innocent students. Even when Lucien tried to get him back, he stood strong and didn’t give in. He almost did when Lucien swore he would be better, but when Marc caught him threatening the exchange student from Hong Kong who he thought had a crush on Marc, he had enough.

After explaining everything to his moms, they decided that it would be best if Marc switched schools to avoid Lucien. He was hesitant at first, knowing that he would have to leave all of his friends behind, but it was worth it to not have to deal with Lucien anymore. So, he said his goodbyes, made the Vice Presidents of the clubs the new presidents, and left, ready to start a new life at a new school

Lucien wouldn’t give up, though. He vowed that he would find Marc, and make him his again by any means necessary.

—

“Class, we have a new student!”, Mme. Bustier announced in her usual cheerful tone. A few of the students rolled their eyes and groaned at the mention of a new student, worried this one may be like Lila, “Please meet Lucien Rebois.”

Kim and Alix perked up at the mention of the name and nearly fell out of their seats when the athlete walked into the room. The other students, while not huge fans like Kim and Alix, gasped when they saw him

“Hi, nice to meet you all.”, he greeted with a smile

“Dude! You’re a legend!”, Kim shouted, “My cousin took me to every game you played, you are awesome!”

Lucien tried not to blush at the praise, “Well, I guess I was okay.”

“Okay?!”, Alix exclaimed, “You gotta join our fútbol team, we suck!”

“Alix!”, Bustier reprimanded and Lucien chuckled, “That’s quite enough.”

“I’ll think about it.”, he looked around, “So, where do I sit?”

Mme. Bustier pointed up the stairs, “Right next to Nathaniel.”, said boy waved so Lucien could see him. He walked up the stairs, paying no mind to the many admiring looks he was receiving, and sat down next to the redhead. The two sent each other polite smiles and focused on Bustier’s lecture

—

While doing classwork, Nathaniel’s eyes wandered to the bracelet wrapped around Lucien’s wrist. It was red, made of leather, and had a silver heart. It didn’t seem weird at first until he saw his seat mate’s initials on the heart. ‘Wonder who gave that to him.’, he thought, then went back to his classwork, only to be disrupted by the sound of the bell

“Okay, everyone, I’ll see you all after lunch.”, Mme. Bustier said as the students walked out of the classroom

While packing his messenger bag, Nathaniel dropped a draft of the Ladybug comic and went to pick it up, but Lucien beat him to it and looked at it in awe, “Dude, you make the Ladybug comics? I love these!”, he grinned

Nathaniel smiles at the compliment, “Thanks. I-I don’t make the whole comic though-“ He was cut off by Alix, running up the stairs and wrapping an arm around him, “He draws, and his partner writes.”

“Alix.”, he groaned, to which the pink-haired girl replied with a grin

“Partner as is significant other?”, Lucien asked when he realized what Alix meant. When he saw Nathaniel looking away in embarrassment and with what looked like fear, he eased his worries by saying, “Don’t worry, man, I’m like, super gay.”

Nathaniel smiled, relief taking over. Alix’s smile widened when she heard those words and she immediately wrapped her other arm around Lucien, “I love this boy!”

And the three of them left the classroom

—

Later at lunch, Lucien has drawn in a crowd as he talked a little about himself. Even Marinette joined in when she realized this new student was nothing like Lila and didn’t go on and on bragging about himself, or claiming he did something outlandish that could be proven false with a quick and easy Google search

“Well, I‘ve been captain of the fútbol team since middle school, and I’ll be honest, I was not ready to lead a whole team.”

Marinette whispered to Alya, “I like how modest he is.”, the Creole girl nodded in agreement

“Yeah, not like she who will not be named.”, Alya said with a roll of her eyes, then asked, “So Lucien, I hope you don’t mind going off-topic, but what do you think of Ladybug and Chat Noir?”

“They’re amazing!”, he exclaimed, “I mean, I’ve never seen them in person, only on the Ladyblog live-streams. My school was a little far from the action.”, he explained while Alya beamed at the mention of her blog, “Now, what’s this I’ve heard about ‘Ladybug’s best friend?’”

The students groaned. Marinette said, “We don’t talk about her.”

“Alright, enough about Rossi,” Nino bitterly said, then pointed to the bracelet resting on his wrist, “sweet band, man! Where’d you find that?”, the others admired the bracelet and repeated Nino’s question

Nathaniel noticed him blushing at the mention of it, “Well… It was my ex’s.” He raised an eyebrow, ‘His ex’s? Then why does it have his initials?’, he thought to himself then continued to listen

“Yeah, I gave him this after we dated for three months.”, he explained, “I, um… I’m not entirely over him yet.”, he admitted, making the girls and some boys awe, “Then he switched schools, and I haven’t really been the same.”

“That’s why you were playing sloppy at your games!”, Kim exclaimed, “Man, that must’ve been rough. If Ondine broke up with me, I’d probably be drowning in the pool.”, everyone laughed. Nathaniel then looked up and saw Marc walking in the cafeteria with Mireille. He smiled at how content and happy he looked, but then that feeling turned to concern when he saw him running away the minute he walked in

Nathaniel, wanting to make sure Marc was okay, excused himself, then ran after him. He heard footsteps, whirled around, and saw Mireille running towards him, “Is Marc okay?”, she asked, only to have Nathaniel respond with a shrug, “I don’t know. Help me look for him.”

“Damn long legs.”, Mireille cursed under her breath

--

“Anciel!”

Marc whipped around from the bathroom mirror and came face-to-face... Well, more like chest-to-face with Ismael Prisk, the school’s foreign exchange students from Pakistan, Marc’s classmate, and what some of the anime-fanatic students call a ‘tsundere’.

Marc sighed, “Ismael, I’m not in the mood.”

“Fight with your boyfriend?”, he asked in a snarky tone, making Marc roll his eyes at the boy’s usual behavior

“No! I-I just...”

Ismael continued to pry, “Because you always spend lunch with him, considering the fact that you two have no classes together, so I’m just naturally curious as to why you’d rather hide in the bathroom than use that precious hour to make out with him.”

‘Yeah right.’, Marc thought, “It has nothing to do with Nathaniel.”

The short brunette smirked, “Well, then I guess you won’t mind if I go fetch him, now would you?”, he heads for the door, only to be stopped when Marc grabs his wrist

“Don’t do that!”, he begged

“I won’t say anything if you tell me why you’re acting like a freak.”. he retorted while snatching his wrist out of Marc’s grasp

“... Okay...”, seeing Ismael backing towards the door, he quickly said, “It’s Lucien, okay?!”

“The new guy?”, Marc nodded, “Tall guy, captain of some team?”, he asked, and Marc nodded again, “So what?”

“... He’s my ex.”, Ismael made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth, “And, I just don’t feel like running into him.”

“So you’re the guy who made him lose those games.”, Ismael taunted

“It wasn’t my fault!”, Marc exclaimed. Ismael flinched at his outburst, “I had to break up with him! He was just... I couldn’t take it! He was sweet at first, but he started treating me like I was his property or something! He even had me wear a choker with his initials on it!”

The stoic look on Ismael’s face became softer as he listened to Marc about Lucien

“He even threatened some of my friends, o-or anyone who talked to me because he thought they were flirting with me.”, a tear streamed down his face, “One guy even went to the hospital.”

Ismael asked, “Did you tell anyone?”

“I tried to go to the principal, but he said without any proof, there wasn’t anything that could’ve be done.”, he explained, “And Lucien always thought ahead. He did his threatening in rooms that didn’t have cameras, had the fútbol team backing him up if he was ever accused of something, and his aunt is a member of the school board, so he always got away with everything.”

Ismael frowned, “Damn, that’s... That’s just awful.”

Marc nodded, “I finally broke up with him, and I switched schools. But now that Lucien’s here, I’m worried he’ll do something to Nath when he finds out we’re dating. So that’s why you can’t say anything!”

“Dude, Lucien’s gonna find out you go here sooner or later.”, Ismael said with a shake of his head, “You just gotta avoid him, and hope he turns out like Rossi.” He smiled at the thought of Lila rotting away in her prison cell

Marc shuddered at the memory of how he almost killed Lila. But putting that thought aside, he realized Ismael was right. Lila slipped up and got arrested, so maybe Lucien will too and get what he had coming a long time ago, “I guess... Thanks-”

Ismael cut him off and headed for the door, “Don’t mention it. To anyone.”, and he left

—

Mireille walked out of the library, “Well, he’s not in there.”, she turns to Nathaniel who’s walking out of a classroom, “No luck?”

He shook his head, “No. I’m getting worried; why did he just run off like that?”

“Ask him yourself.”, Mireille narrowed her eyes as the boy approached her and Nathaniel

“What are you talking about, Ismael?”, she asked curtly, “Where’s Marc?”

The brunette ignored her and turned to Nathaniel, “Kurtzberg, I suggest you stay by your boyfriend’s side at all times, especially now that Lucien’s here.”, he warned

“What?”

Ismael held his hands up, sensing the rising hostility in the redhead’s voice, “He told me a couple of things about Rebois. Things that might concern you.”

“Well what did he say? What did Lucien do?”, he asked, wanting to get right to the point, but the other boy merely shook his head

“Like I said: ask him yourself.”, he answered with a pointed look before walking away from the two very confused students

“I’ll talk to him at art club.”, Nathaniel told Mireille before heading back to the cafeteria

—

“So, Nath,”, Lucien sat down in his seat, “I was just wondering, who’s your partner with the Ladybug comic?”, he asked, making Nathaniel tense.

Should he say anything? If what Ismael said was true, then Lucien may hurt Marc. He needed to keep quiet until he has enough information on this guy to know if Marc is safe around him

“Well, he prefers privacy.” he answered, “He doesn’t really like all of the attention.”, it wasn’t really a lie. Marc hated being the center of attention, yet he’s the writer for the most popular comic in Paris

“Huh.”, was Lucien’s response before he turned his attention to the teacher

‘...Okay.’

Throughout the lesson, Nathaniel felt like he was being watched, like someone was plotting to set him on fire. Maybe he was just being paranoid because he was worried about Marc... Yeah, that was it. No one’s out to get him, and he did not just see Lucien glaring at him as if he were Hawkmoth himself

—

Lucien knew what he saw, and he knew what he heard. He knew he saw the silky black hair of his love in the hallway, the bright red hoodie that hid his beautiful frame, and the gentle green eyes that made his heart melt...

He found him. After all this time, he found Marc Anciel. And he had the Ladyblog to thank for that. Even as a monochromatic supervillain who could reverse people, he still looked breath-taking. When he watched the live-stream, he instantly recognized the beautiful Akuma, and insisted on switching schools so he could find him. And who would’ve guessed that they’d end up in the same school again? It was fate, they were meant to stay together.

But then he heard Nathaniel Kurtzberg being referred to as Marc’s boyfriend... That nobody stole Marc away from him: The school golden boy, the one people would kill to date. Well, he was going to get him back. They had art club together, probably to work on the comic. How did he not recognize Marc as the writer? The word choice, the realistic dialogue... Just another thing Lucien loved about him

When that bell rings at the end of the day, Marc will be his again.

—

“You alright, Nath?”, Kim asked Nathaniel as he shut his locker closed and slipped on his swim cap, “You seem a little on edge.”

He shrugged, “... It’s Lucien.”

The Vietnamese boy smiled dreamily at the mention of the name, “Yeah, he’s awesome,” but then frowned, “What about him?”

“Well, I heard some stuff about him.”, he answered as he placed a book in his locker, “And it involved Marc.”, Kim raised an eyebrow, “Ismael told me to keep Marc away from him.”

“Ismael Prisk?”, he nodded, “You actually believe that guy? He’s not exactly the nicest guy, Nath. Plus, Lucien’s chill, he wouldn’t do anything to hurt Marc... Not like Lila.”

The artist rolled his eyes at the mention of the Italian, and Kim’s face contorted into disgust

“I can’t believe I thought she was telling the truth.”, Kim said, ashamed, “I get injured all the time, and I come back with bruises and casts. She falls down the stairs and somehow comes back without a singer scratch.”

“Well, I’ll admit, she was pretty convincing.”, Nathaniel admitted with a look of embarrassment, “She almost had me convinced, but then she said she was dating the creator of the Ladybug comic.”

Kim facepalms, “God, me and the others are so dumb.”

Nathaniel chuckled, then shut his locker, “Well, I’m gonna go and see if Marc’s alright.”

“I bet my lucky speedo that Lucien is a good guy!”

Nathaniel yelled back as he walked out the room, “You can keep those!”

—

Meanwhile, in the art room, Marc was listening to music on his headphones and writing in his journal as he waited for Nathaniel to arrive. He needed to relax after the day he’s been having- He’s managed to avoid Lucien, so that’s good... Now he just had to keep doing so until graduation.

This was one of the places where he was safe. Lucien was never really into the arts, so there was no way he’d ever actually come in here

“Lucien, hi!”, Marc heard Rose greet as the song he was listening to faded out. He dropped his pencil in horror

‘Oh, God.’

“So, an athlete, and an artist?”, Alix let out a low whistle, “I’m liking you more and more, man.”

‘They’re all in the same class, of course, they’re friends.’

“Well, not really.”, he responded with a laugh then looked around the room, “I just came to check the place out. I’m liking the calm vibe here.”

Juleka shrugged as she strummed a few chords on her guitar, “It is pretty quiet here sometimes.”

‘Okay, they’re distracting him. Maybe if I sneak out quietly, he won’t notice me.’, Marc slowly gathered his notebook and pencils in his bag, not wanting to make too much noise

“Marc! Have you met Lucien?!”, Rose asked, and at that moment, Marc wanted to die

“...”

When he didn’t move, Juleka raised an eyebrow, “Marc, are you okay?”

Before he could respond, Marc felt a strong hand being placed on his shoulder and heard, “Hello, my Emerald.”, the pet name that made him want to throw up

“Who’s Emerald?”, Alix asked

Lucien feigned surprise and answered, “Oh, did Marc not tell you?”, he holds up his wrist with the choker acting as a bracelet, “We were boyfriends. I call him Emerald because of his lovely eyes.”

Alix, Rose, and Juleka weren’t sure how to respond to that. Do they ask follow-up questions, tell him to leave before Nathaniel arrives, or just kick him out right now because he’s getting a little too close to Marc?

“Okay, okay!”, Alix approaches the two and removes Lucien’s hand from Marc’s arm, “Reunion’s over, you should go try out for a team, Marc has a boyfriend,” she points to the door, “you can leave now.”

“What’s the rush?”, Lucien asked as he placed his hands on Marc’s shoulders and gave them a little squeeze, making the writer shudder, “Can’t a guy just talk to his ex without someone trying to make him leave?” He gives the sleeve of Marc’s jacket a little tug, grinning when it slides off his shoulder a little bit

“I don’t hear you talking to each other.”, Alix spat

He huffed, “Fine.”, then turns to Marc, “Emerald, I haven’t stopped thinking about you ever since took our break.”

Marc mumbled, “We broke up.”

“And I want you back.”, he leaned in close to the petrified boy and made escaping impossible. He had Marc pinned against the table, with his arms on either side of him, “Come on, Emerald. Let’s finish where we-“, he didn’t finish as he was pushed away from Marc by none other than Alix

“You have five, fucking, seconds.”, she snarled

Lucien smirked, “Well, I better make the most of it.”, he sent Marc a wink, only infuriating Alix even more.

—

As he made his way towards the art room, Nathaniel’s phone started buzzing. He checked the texts, all caps, and angry emojis

Alix: GET IN HERE BEFORE I SNAP HIS NECK!😡😡😡

Rose: HURRY! ALIX IS GONNA RIP HIS HEAD OFF! 😱

Alix: FHE)3&HE D#%UWUDK WH3$&

Juleka: Alix used her phone to smack him. Also, I think Marc’s having a panic attack!!

At that last text, Nathaniel ran as fast as he could. When he made it to the classroom, his eyes widened at the scene before him- Alix had Lucien in a headlock while Rose tries to pry her off, and Juleka had her arms wrapped around Marc as he sat on the floor

“What the hell is going on?!”, he yelled, grabbing everyone’s attention, except for Marc’s. Juleka helped Marc up and walked him over to his boyfriend. Nathaniel cupped his cheeks in his hands, “It’s okay, Rainbow. I’m here.”, he took one of his shaky hands and kissed it, “It’s okay.”

”Get your hands off of him!”, Lucien snarled, making Marc tighten his arms around Nathaniel, and hide his face in the crook of his neck

Alix jabbed his chest with her finger, “He’s having a panic attack, you dick!”

Nathaniel was suddenly pulled out of Marc’s hold, and the writer pulled his hood over his head, shaking and sobbing as the two boys yelled at each other

“Get out of here!”

“Make me, twerp!”

Marc feels a hand on his shoulder. He holds it, thinking it’s Nathaniel, Alix, Juleka, or Rose. When he looks up and paled when he realized it was Lucien

“Get your hands off of him!”, Rose screamed as Juleka stormed over and yanked the boy away from Marc

“Emerald, you’re going to let them-“

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!”, he sobbed

“Get out of here, Rebois.”, Nathaniel growled

“Over my dead- OW!”

Alix had twisted his arm behind his back and is walking him towards the door, “And stay out!”, she pushed him out, then shut the door. Once Lucien regained his composure, he looked around and saw a couple of students giving confused looks and whispering. He stormed off in a huff.

—

“The owner of heart once so full of life only to have it be torn apart, then shattered, and now seeking to take back what was his.”, Hawkmoth holds out his hand, and a white butterfly lands in his open palm. He covers the butterfly, and it’s engulfed with dark magic, turning the butterfly into an Akuma. It flutters away

“Fly, my little Akuma. And evilize him!”

—

Lucien sat outside on the steps of the school, scrolling through photos on his phone, all are of him and Marc when they were dating- Them holding hands while roller-skating, Marc wearing his letterman jacket at a fútbol game, dancing at the spring formal, kissing in his car at a drive-in... They looked so happy... He shoved his phone back in his pocket and rubbed his thumb over the choker necklace wrapped around his wrist. While doing this, he felt something brush up against his finger, and suddenly, he felt as if someone was in his head

“Heart Thief, I am Hawkmoth. I too understand the pain of losing someone you love. Now you can take back what’s yours. In return, you must give me Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous.”

Lucien wanted to say no. He’s seen what this guy was capable of, but... He’d have Marc all to himself again. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up. He had to get him back and away from those friends of his. Especially that red-haired twerp...

“I’m coming for you, Marc.”, he smirked as the black mist bubbled up from the choker and surrounded him

Hawkmoth froze when he heard that name. ‘Marc Anciel’ How could such an innocent-sounding name sound so malevolent? He, a mere child managed to silence and overpower him, the most feared villain in all of Paris, and then had the nerve to threaten him... It was quite impressive. Marc was now second on his ‘Must Akumatize’ list, and at the top was Marinette. Even though Lila had been arrested and was no longer a threat to her emotional stability, the Eurasian girl would still make a powerful Akuma- Not one caused by her friends betraying, but definitely, something that would make the heroes fall to their knees

—

“It’s okay, Rainbow. He’s gone.”, Nathaniel whispered as he had his arms wrapped around Marc’s frame, “He won’t hurt you, okay?”

“God! I can’t believe I actually looked up to that guy!”, Alix screeched, “When I see him, I’m just gonna... I’ll...”, she chucks a spray paint can at the door, M. Haberkorn walks in carrying a few blank canvases just as the can drops to the floor with a ‘clank’. “What’s going on here?”, he asked with concern when he felt the tension in the room

Alix sighed, “Sorry, M. Haberkorn. We just... Ugh.”, she slumped into her seat

The art teacher looks and sees Marc in Nathaniel’s protective hold, “Is Marc okay?”

Juleka answers, “We had a run-in with the new student.”

Rose adds, “Yeah, and he was making Marc really uncomfortable! He kept touching him and calling him Em-“, seeing Nathaniel shake his head, she rephrased, “a name that he didn’t like. And he was, I guess flirting with Marc even when we said he and Nathaniel were dating!”

M. Haberkorn frowned. How dare another student come into his classroom and harass one of his children students? “Well, I’ll be having a talk with M. Damocles about this first thing tomorrow.”, he said sternly, “That boy will not set another foot in this room, or hurt you again, Marc.”

Marc lifted his head and sent the kind man a faint smile

Then suddenly, destroying the calm atmosphere were screams coming from the students who stayed after school. Juleka ran out into the hall and saw the Akuma. He wore a black mask with a small red heart above his right eye, a suit where the top half was is tailcoat that was red at the top and black at the bottom, and the ends of the tailcoat formed a broken heart. He wore black pants, black fingerless gloves that revealed his red nails, and came up to his biceps, red platform boots with metal heart buckles that came up to his knees, and in his hand was a black choker necklace with a red metal heart. She gasped when she realized the Akuma was Lucien, then went back in the room, shut the door, and told the others, “Lucien’s an Akuma!”

Alix clenched her fists, “Oh, hell no!”

M. Haberkorn shushed her, “We can’t let him know we’re still in here.”

Everyone froze when they heard the Akuma’s footsteps were getting louder as he approached the room. Nathaniel kept Marc in a protective hold as the taller boy silently cried... The footsteps soon faded away, and they all let out relieved sighs, but this moment was short-lived when the door suddenly blew off its hinges, revealing Heart Thief.

He looked around the room until his eyes land on Marc and smirks, “Oh, Emerald.”, he drawled out, “Did you miss me?”

Alix got into a fighting stance, Nathaniel moved Marc behind him, Rose and Juleka backed away but still stood close by Marc. M. Haberkorn scowled when he realized this was the student that harassed Marc

Sternly he said, “You’re not welcome here. Leave.”, but the villain just laughed

“Not until I take back what’s mine.”, he held up the collar, making Marc back away at the sight of it, “Emerald, come here.”

Alix tightened her fists, “If you think he’s gonna listen to you, you must be-!”, she silenced herself when she saw a red dagger in the shape of a heart appear in the palm of his hand

“Emerald, you know how much I hate waiting,” he chastised, then summoned four more daggers he then sent towards Alix, Rose, Juleka, Nathaniel, and M. Haberkorn. Everyone ducked out of the way, and the daggers hit a sculpture, forming cracks along the surface before it crumbled into bits. Marc looked up and didn’t have time to react before Heart Thief threw the choker at him, and it wrapped itself around his neck. Marc tried to rip it off but then suddenly came to a halt, and his arms dropped to his sides. He and the Akuma locked eyes, and Marc no longer saw Heart Thief, he saw Lucien- His devoted, caring boyfriend. Nathaniel got up, and his eyes widened in shock when he saw that Marc’s irises were now a bright red

He held his hand, “Rainbow?”, but got no response

Heart Thief sent the boy a sneer. His look softened when he looked to Marc, “Emerald, come here.”, he commanded sweetly as his eyes glowed the same shade of red as Marc’s irises

Marc stood, and with no hesitation, ran over to Heart Thief. Rose reached for his hand, but he pulled it away and went to nuzzle up against his chest

Nathaniel looked heartbroken, and even more when Marc and Heart Thief passionately kissed each other, “Oh, I knew you’d come to your senses, Emerald.”, he gently scooped him off his feet, and sent Nathaniel a smirk when Marc wrapped his arms around his neck, “Perhaps I should be calling you Ruby now.” Before he could head out, M. Haberkorn stood at the doorway

“Unhand him this instant!”, he shouted in a tone none of the art students have ever heard him use. Heart Thief just scoffed, settled Marc in his left arm, then he used his free hand to grab the man by his shirt and fling him across the room, causing him to crash into some paint cans that splattered him with a mess of colors. Rose and Juleka went to help him up while Alix and Nathaniel ran after Heart Thief, who fled during the commotion.

While running, Heart Thief summoned six heart-shaped daggers and threw them at Nathaniel and Alix. They weren’t hit, but dodging the daggers slowed them down and allowed Heart Thief to get away

He made his way outside, scaring off a few civilians, but he didn’t care. He finally had Marc back, and once he brought the Miraculous to Hawkmoth, they’ll never be separated ever again

“I told you,” he whispered, “I’d get you back, my Ruby. Nothing will keep us apart.”, he kisses Marc’s pink lips again, but was cut short when he heard, “PUT HIM DOWN!”

Standing at the top of the steps was Nathaniel, seething with rage and with visible tears streaming down his face. Heart Thief rolled his eyes and leaped away

“NO!”

—

“Excellent, Heart Thief. It shouldn’t be too long before Ladybug and Chat Noir arrive. Once you take their Miraculous, he shall be yours forever.”

Heart Thief smiled as he looked down at Marc, his hair blowing in his beautiful face as he ran, “That’s all I want.”

—

Meanwhile, in his room, Adrien was just sitting at his desk, watching footage of the Ladyblog on his three computer monitors, when he suddenly heard screams from outside. He rushed over to his window and looked to see Heart Thief leaping from roof to roof with Marc in his arms

“Is that Marc?”, he asks himself before turning to Plagg, sitting on the couch and munching on some Camembert, “Plagg, we gotta go!”

The Kwami of destruction groaned, “But I just got comfy!”

“Now!”

Plagg, Claws out!

—

Marinette was just sitting on her balcony, flipping through a fashion magazine while Tikki sat on her shoulder eating a macaron. Before the goddess of creation could take another bite, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye

“Marinette, look!”, she looked to where the Kwami was pointing and saw the Akuma running on the roof of a building. She took a closer look and shock crossed her face when she saw Marc cradled in his arms, “Marc?!”

“He must’ve been kidnapped.”, Tikki deduced

“Well, we’re gonna get him back!”

Tikki, Spots On!

—

Back at school, Nathaniel was panicking. He just lost Marc to... To... To that sleaze! What’s even worse is that he could make Marc do whatever he wants. He didn’t even want to imagine that

“Nath, is gonna be okay.”, Alix tried to reassure him

“No it’s not!”, he yelled, “You saw what he was doing to Marc! He’ll- Oh God!”

“Hey,” Alix grabs his shoulders, “he’s not gonna do anything to Marc, okay? Ladybug and Chat Noir will take care of this like they always do. A-and maybe they’ll call on you again since this is a personal thing.”

Nathaniel didn’t care about being Royt Hon again. He just wanted Marc back, “You think so?”, Alix nodded and pointed up towards the red-clad hero swinging across the city

“Once this is over, I’m giving Lucien a piece of my mind.”, she snarled

—

Couples ran out of the way or stood frozen in shock as Heart Thief and Marc walked across Pont Des Arts

“Oh, Ruby. I’m so glad to have you back.”, Heart Thief said as he combed his fingers through Marc’s hair

The writer held onto the Akuma’s free arm and sighed, “I missed you, Lucien.”

“And you don’t love anyone else, only me?”, Heart Thief asked, eyes glowing again as he softly caressed Marc cheek, causing his pink lips to curl into a smile

“No, I only love you.”, even if it was fake, Heart Thief didn’t seem to care, he was just thrilled to have Marc back in his arms and listening to his every word. There was just one thing that could make this even better

“Ruby, I never really liked how that hoodie hid your gorgeous figure.”, Heart Thief said, biting his bottom lip as he messed with the jaw string, “Remove it for me?”

Marc’s eyes flickered from crimson to green, and for a millisecond, he saw Heart Thief and not Lucien, but the Akuma didn’t seem to notice and just waited for Marc to do as he said, “L-love to.”, raising his hand to his shoulder, he began to slide the jacket off, when a voice called out,

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

Ladybug and Chat Noir arrived on the scene. Civilians fled, knowing how destructive these Akuma battles could get. Heart Thief stood in front of Marc and sent a glare the heroes’ way as he summoned two daggers, “You will not take my love away from me!”

Ladybug ignored him but kept her yoyo ready in case she would have to deflect those daggers. She furrowed her brow when she saw Marc, clinging onto the Akuma’s arm. That’s when she noticed his eyes were no longer green, and realized he must be being controlled by the Akuma

“Marc, whatever spell he has on you, you need to break free from it!”

“Spell?”

“Yeah, your eyes are supposed to be green! And you love Nathaniel, not him!”, Chat pointed an accusing finger at the Akuma

Suddenly, Marc felt a tinge of pain in his head and held it tightly, causing Heart String to look at him with concern, “My Ruby, are you alright?”

His eyes flickered again, but this time Heart Thief noticed, and so did the heroes, “I-I’m fine.”

Heart Thief let out a sigh of relief and turned his attention back to Ladybug and Chat, summoning ten more daggers, each one sharpened to a fine point and ready to pierce through the heroes, “If you know what’s best for you, you’ll leave me and my Ruby alone.”, he threatened, then sent the daggers at the heroes before gathering Marc in his arms and running off

Ladybug spun her yoyo, Chat spun his staff, and the two deflected each dagger. They either flew off and fell into the water, or were embedded in the floor or nearby benches. Once there were no more daggers coming for them, Ladybug and Chat swung and vaulted after Heart Thief

--

Heart Thief knew his control over Marc was weakening when he saw his eyes turning green again. He had to remove any memories of Nathaniel, seeing as the mere mention of his name would break his control over Marc

After looking around to make sure the heroes were nowhere in sight, Heart Thief stopped on the nearest rooftop and set Marc gently onto the roof, “Lucien, why did you stop?”, he asked as Heart Thief took his hand in his.

“Marc,” he started, “my Ruby.”, his eyes started glowing again, “What do you remember about Nathaniel Kurtzberg?”

Marc’s eyes began flickering again, rapidly, before settling on red, “We go to school together.”, he answered. Heart Thief’s eyes became brighter, “He... He likes to draw. I think.”

He smirked, “What else?”

“... He has brown hair?”

“Anything else you remember about Nathaniel?”, his bright red eyes became a menacing blood red

“...” Marc’s face contorted in confusion as he tried to remember who this boy was. The name sounded so familiar to him, but he couldn’t figure out why “I... I don’t know who that is.”

‘He doesn’t remember him.’, “Are you sure?”, he asked, needing confirmation

“No.” He tilted his head slightly, “Am I supposed to?”, Heart Thief kissed his forehead before answering, “No, my Ruby. He’s not important. Never has been, never will be.”, his muscular arms wrapped around Marc’s frame and pull him in for a hug, which the entranced boy gladly returned

“Found you!”

Having no time to react, Ladybug’s yoyo smacked Heart Thief in the face, making him stumble and fall on his back. Marc went to help him up but found himself being restrained by Chat

“Let me go!”, he shouted, writhing in the leather-clad hero’s hold, “Lucien!”, he called out to the Akuma who was tied up by Ladybug’s yoyo. Heart Thief swept her leg, sending Ladybug down, and freed himself from the magic weapon. Chat Noir ran after him, staff ready, but Heart Thief grabbed the staff and used it to fling him into Ladybug just as she was getting up.

Once the heroes were down, Heart Thief gathered Marc in his arms and leaped away just as Ladybug and Chat Noir got back up and situated themselves

“And I thought cats were territorial.”, Chat joke as he picked up his staff, “Did you see anything on Romeno, that might have been the akumatized object?”

Ladybug shook her head, “Nothing. But we have to keep looking.”, then she yelled out,

“LUCKY CHARM!”, the object that fell into her hands was...

“Marc and Nathaniel’s comic?”

Chat examined the cover, “Issue twelve. The one where Might Illustrator saves Inverser from Scarlet Moth’s control.”, Ladybug raised an eyebrow, to which Chat responded with a shrug, “What? I like their work.”

Ladybug flipped through the pages until she stopped on a specific one. Might Illustrator held Inverser in a loving embrace as the two kissed, and Inverser’s red and black suit faded back to white and black. Ladybug got an idea, “Chat, go after Heart Thief. I’ll be right back.”

He nodded, “On it, m’lady!”, then vaulted away

--

Back at Dupont, Alix was comforting Nathaniel, who was crying into her shoulder, “Okay, so it’s been almost two hours, but Ladybug and Chat Noir will get Marc back!” she reassured, “It almost took them an entire day to defeat some Akumas.”, she reminded him, but Nathaniel couldn’t listen, not when Marc was in the arms of some creep

He just wanted him back...

“Nathaniel!”, Ladybug called out as she landed, startling the two, “I need your help!” she looked down at the comic with her Lucky Vision, then at Nathaniel. Both were ladybug-patterned

Alix gave Nathaniel’s arm a nudge, “Is Royt gonna make a comeback?”

“Not exactly.” she holds out her hand to the redhead, “Right now, Marc needs you. Will you come with me?”

With a look of determination, Nathaniel takes the superheroine’s hand, “Let’s get Marc back.”

“And when you see Lucien,” Alix holds up her fist and smirks, “give him one of these for me, ‘kay, bud?”

Nathaniel gave his friend a nod as Ladybug wrapped her arm around him, “Oh, I’ll be giving him much worse.”, then Ladybug swung away with Nathaniel in her arms

--

After five minutes of running, Heart Thief landed right outside of the Le Grand Blanche Hotel. By the door was a sign that read, ‘Jemart and Mell Wedding in Banquet Hall’ His lips curled into a grin, “Ruby. How would you like us to always be together?”, all he got in response was a kiss on the cheek.

“Heart Thief, what is the meaning of this? I want my Miraculous!”

“And you’ll get them. Right after I make Marc mine forever.” at that, he carried Marc into the hotel.

It took almost ten minutes, but Heart Thief finally found the banquet hall and set Marc down on the floor before using his enhanced strength to punch the door down, much to the alarm of everyone in attendance at the wedding. The groom was just about to put the ring on the bride’s finger.

Heart Thief smirked, “Sorry to interrupt such a lovely ceremony, but this will only take a moment.”

“Marc?” Standing from her seat was Madelyn, dressed in a black vest with a red bow tie, a white dress shirt, black pants, and black heels, “What’s goin’ on; Why are you with an Akuma?”

Marc gave his old friend a confused look, “I’m not with an Akuma, I’m with Lucien.” the girl narrowed her eyes at the Akuma and instantly recognized him, “Rebois.”, she sneered

“Jemart. I thought the name sounded familiar.”

The muscular girl rolled up her sleeves and stormed over to the Akuma, “After all this time, even as an Akuma, you’re still a creep.” her look softened when she turned to Marc, “Mar-Mar, whatever lies this boy has been telling you, don’t believe him.”

He gave her an incredulous look, “He said he loves me.”

“Marc,” she grabs his shoulders, “you broke up with him for a reason! He’s possessive, he threatened your friends, he made you wear a collar!” she looks at the black choker around his neck, “And he still is. Mar-Mar, you’re one of my best friends. Please. Believe me when I’m telling you that Lucien- Heart Thief- Whatever! He’s using you...”

It’s a stare down between the two. Marc’s crimson red eyes started flickering again and were becoming a forest green color until Heart Thief squeezed his hand, and his eyes went back to red “Maddy, please move.”

A tear forms out of the eye of the usually tough girl, “Marc-”

In one swift motion, Madelyn was pinned to the wall by Heart Thief’s daggers, each one just an inch away from piercing her body. Marc looked back at her with concern until Heart Thief linked their arms and walked him down the aisle, prompting the bride and groom to move out of the way. The priest would have run too, but Heart Thief’s glare kept him in place.

“O-okay then.”, the priest stammered, “So, do you, Heart Thief, t-take Marc to b-be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”, he answered quickly

“Of course.”, he said before turning to Marc, “And do y-you, Marc, take Heart Thief to-to be your la-lawfully wedded husband?”

“I-”

Before he could say ‘do’, someone yelled out, “I OBJECT!”

Everyone looked to see Paris’ heroes and Nathaniel standing at the doorway. Ladybug’s earrings had all five dots, having refueled Tikki before they arrived, and she was giving Chat a bored look, “Was that necessary?” he shrugged, “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

Nathaniel’s eyes didn’t leave Marc for a second. He always fantasized about seeing Marc at an altar, but not like this.

“Crashing my wedding?!” How tacky are you?” Heart Thief shouted, pulling Marc closer to him

Nathaniel sneered, “I’m tacky?! You brainwashed my boyfriend!”

“He’s marrying me willingly! Right, Ruby?” Marc nodded.

Ladybug threw her yoyo at Heart Thief. It wrapped around his ankles, and she flung him across the room, making him crash into a wall. Nathaniel made his way over to Marc, but he ran over to the wounded Akuma, and Nathaniel couldn’t hold back his tears anymore.

Ladybug then called for her, “LUCKY CHARM!”

And in her hands was... “A magnet?”

While she looked for a way to use the lucky, Chat Noir quickly dragged Marc over to Nathaniel while Heart Thief was down, “Nathaniel, get him somewhere safe.” With a nod, Nathaniel pulled Marc out of the banquet hall, and the battle began

--

“Where are you taking me?!”, Marc asked as Nathaniel continued to pull him through the building, with some struggle since Marc kept trying to pull his hand out of his grasp

“I’m getting you away from him, Marc!”, he answered, then the two made their way into a stairwell

“What?! How do you even know my name; who are you?!”

After hearing those last three words, Nathaniel’s heart shattered. He stopped on his tracks and look Marc right in his eyes, “You... You don’t know who I am?”

Marc shook his head, “No. Look, I-I need to go back, or Lucien’s gonna-”

“Forget about Lucien!”, he shouted, “He’s hurt you in the past, and is still doing so! Marc... He doesn’t love you.”

“H-he said he-”

Nathaniel was now crying at this point, “He doesn’t mean it... I know you don’t remember me, o-or everything we’ve been through together, and you probably won’t believe me when I tell you this, but I love you! I can’t lose you, you’re... You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me...” Seeing no change on Marc’s confused face, he slid down the wall and tucked his head into his knees and silently cried, “I love you, Rainbow.”

Marc just stood, not wondering what to do right now. He wanted to go back to Lucien, but this boy was claiming that he was a part of his life right now and is clearly upset... Lucien wouldn’t mind if he stayed back to comfort... Nick? Noah?... Nathan... What did Chat Noir call him earlier?... Nathaniel! That was his name. It sounded so nice.

Marc’s eyes flickered again and became a red-orange color. “... A comic”, Nathaniel looked up in confusions, tears still streaming down his face, “We... We worked on a comic together.”

Nathaniel wiped some of his tears away, “Y-yeah. Yeah!”, he got on his feet, and held Marc’s hands, “Do you remember anything else?”

"... W-we became friends after Reverser?”

Nathaniel grinned when he realized Marc’s memories of him were slowly returning, and his eyes were going back to their normal color with each memory, “Yes! That’s right! What else?”

“Uh... I had to sleep over your house after Alix made us watch a scary movie.”, his eyes faded to yellow-orange

Nathaniel blushed at the memory. Marc’s parents were out of town that week and he did not wanna sleep alone, so he offered to let him sleep over his house. In his room... In his bed.

“We went to Comic Con together as Ruby and Sapphire,” he chuckled, “sold a few of our comics, and... And... You told me you love me.”

“I do. And I always will... Marc... My Rainbow. If you take off that choker, I can guarantee that you’ll know who actually loves you, and you’ll know who you love.”, Nathaniel wrapped his arms around Marc’s waist and pulled him in for a hug. His hugs felt so different from Lucien’s; they were warmer. “If that person is still Lucien, know that I’ll never stop loving you.”

Marc slowly reached for his choker and undid the clasp. Once the offending material was no longer around his neck, Marc threw it to the floor, causing it to break.

“Rainbow?”, Nathaniel whispered. He looked and saw Marc’s beautiful green eyes once again, and brimming with tears

“I missed you.”

“... I missed you too!”

The two kissed, hands clasped together and fitting perfectly, and bodies pressed against each other. This tender moment was cut short when they heard a flapping sound and looked to see an Akuma fluttering beside them. Nathaniel glared at the thing that almost took away his boyfriend, and snatched it in his hands

“Nath!”, Marc exclaimed worriedly, “Are you okay.”

He nodded, “Yeah. I’m way too happy to become Akumatized.” Marc smiled and kissed his cheek

--

The two made their way back into the banquet hall and took in the scene before them. The wedding guests took cover on the other side of the room, and Heart Thief was dangling over a hole in the floor that was no doubt Cataclysmed. Ladybug’s yoyo, which had been thrown over a chandelier, was tied around the Lucky Charm magnet that was stuck to the metal heart-shaped buckles on his boots. Ladybug and Chat Noir kept looking to see where the Akumatized object was until Nathaniel cleared his throat and the heroes turned their attention to him and Marc.

Ladybug smiled, “Marc! You’re back!”

“That’s great, but we still can’t find the Akuma.”, Chat said as he continued looking

“Oh, it was in Marc’s choker necklace.” Nathaniel said, chuckling when Ladybug and Chat facepalmed

Ladybug retracted her yoyo and Heart Thief fell back into the hole before crawling back out. With a nod from the spotted heroine, Nathaniel opened his hands and released the Akuma, only for it to be caught by Ladybug’s yoyo

“No more evil-doing for you, little Akuma. Time to de-evilize! Gotcha!”

The newly purified butterfly fluttered out of the yoyo, “Bye-bye, little butterfly.”, Ladybug told it, then pulled the magnet off of Heart Thief’s boot and tossed it into the air, “MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”

The magnet burst into thousands of ladybugs that flew around Paris. They fixed the banquet hall, the art room, and got rid of the daggers throws by Heart Thief. Black and purple mist engulfed Heart Thief then lifted to reveal Lucien. He gets up and furrows his brow, “What am I doing here?” Hearing someone clear their throat, he turned around and saw Marc and Nathaniel glaring at him with such malice, but Marc’s glare was more intense

Marc stormed over to him and rolled up one of his sleeves, “Em-Emerald, I-” He was cut off a powerful left hook right to his face that sent him to the floor, much to the shock of Nathaniel, Ladybug, and Chat “You had that coming a long time ago, Rebois!”

“WHOO!”, Madelyn cheered as she made her way over to him and wrapped her arm around his shoulder, “My boy can still throw a mean hook!”, Marc laughed and hugged her, “Hey, Maddy.”, “Hey my little gay of sunshine!”, she then noticed Nathaniel and smiled, “So I’m guessing he’s your new boyfriend?”

Marc pulled away from the hug and made his way over to Nathaniel. The two held hands, confirming Madelyn’s suspicion “Well, I already like him a lot better than Rebois.”, she gave the de-akumatized boy’s leg a kick

Ladybug and Chat Noir fist-bumped, “Pound it!”

--

“Ladybug and Chat Noir, like Heart Thief, I don’t care how long it takes until I finally have what’s mine! And as for Marc Anciel... I’ll still be keeping a close eye on you...”

--

It was a new day at school, no one’s seen Lucien for a week. His Akumatization a history at Vadim spread like a wildfire, now everyone knew exactly the kind of person he was. Kim, Alix, and the whole school fútbol team took down their (not literal) shrine to him. Rumors were spreading too- ‘Lucien got expelled’, ‘Lucien went back to Vadim’, ‘Lucien fled to Bombay’, ‘Lucien melted his head’, ‘Lucien’s totally dead’. Okay, so that last two were a little outlandish, but at least everything was back to normal

As Marc and Nathaniel were walking home after art club, Marc got a text from his phone, “It’s from Maddy.”, he smiled as he read the message, “The GSA social is coming up. She, Mehdi and Syd wanna know if we’re free to go on Saturday.”

Nathaniel smiled and kissed his cheek, “Tell them we’ll be there, and I can’t wait to meet everyone.”

Taglist:

@toodaloo-kangaroo

[pistachoz]

✎ ˗ˏˋ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 ˎˊ˗

❝ That’s what she said! ❞

❝ Guess what, I have flaws. What are they? Oh I don’t know. I sing in the shower. Sometimes I spend too much time volunteering. Occasionally I’ll hit somebody with my car. So sue me. ❞

❝ I normally don’t enjoy making people laugh. ❞

❝ This is where I fell in love with you, and this is where I ask you to marry me. ❞

❝ I never thought I’d say this, but I think I ate too much bone marrow. ❞

❝ I just want to be friends. Plus a little extra. Also, I love you. ❞

❝ Me think, why waste time say lot word, when few word do trick. ❞

❝ I will raise a hundred children with a hundred of your lovers if it means I can be with you. ❞

❝ A few years ago, my family was on a safari in Africa and my cousin, Mufasa, was um, he was trampled to death by a pack of wildebeests and um, we all took it really hard. ❞

❝ And I feel God in this Chili’s tonight. ❞

❝ It’s true. Around this office in the past I have been a little abrupt with people. But the doctor said, if I can’t find a new way to relate more positively to my surroundings, I’m going to die. ❞

❝ I talk a lot, so I’ve learned to tune myself out. ❞

❝ Love is the water of life, drink deeply. ❞

❝ The future mother of my children. ❞

❝ Got it a week after we started dating. ❞

❝ I was just…i’m in love with you. ❞

❝ I can’t remember the last time someone made me dinner. ❞

❝ Would I rather be feared or loved? Easy, both. I want people to be afraid of how much they love me. ❞

❝ I don’t talk trash, I talk smack. They’re totally different. Trash talk is hypothetical, like: Your mom is so fat she can eat the internet. But smack talk is happening like right now. Like: You’re ugly and I know it for a fact ’cause I got the evidence right there. ❞  

❝ Life is short. Drive fast and leave a sexy corpse. That’s one of my mottos. ❞  

❝ It was love at first… see with my ears. ❞  

❝ I am about to do something very bold in this job that I've never done before…try. ❞

❝ There’s only…one thing that will make you give up on everything you thought you knew, every rational calculation. ❞

❝ I know a few things about love—horrible, terrible, awful, awful things. ❞

❝ I wonder what people like about me. Probably my jugs. ❞

❝ This expresses how loudly I love you!  ❞

❝ I’m in love! I was hit by Cupid’s sparrow. ❞

❝ Hate to see you leave, but love to watch you go. ‘Cause of your butt. ❞

❝ Everything i have i owe to this job…this stupid, wonderful, boring, amazing job. ❞

❝ All right, then it’s a date. ❞

❝ There’s a lot of beauty in ordinary things. Isn’t that kind of the point? ❞

❝ I guess I’ve been working so hard, I forgot what it’s like to be hardly working. ❞

❝ I say dance, they say ‘How high? ❞

❝ Fool me once, strike one. Fool me twice, strike three ❞

❝ The only problem is whenever I try to make a taco, I get too excited and crush it. ❞

❝ There are always a million reasons not to do something ❞ 

❝ Who says exactly what they’re thinking? ❞

❝ I would say I kind of have an unfair advantage because I watch reality dating shows like a hawk, and I learn. I absorb information from the strategies of the winners and the losers. Actually, I probably learn more from the losers. ❞

❝ Do I need to be liked? Absolutely not. I like to be liked. I enjoy being liked. I have to be liked, but it’s not like this compulsive need to be liked, like my need to be praised. ❞

❝ I’ve got a golden-ticket idea. Why don’t you skip on up to the roof and jump off? ❞

❝ I mean, I’m not a slut but who knows. ❞

❝ I don’t care what they say about me. I just want to eat. Which I realize is a lot to ask for. At a dinner party. ❞

❝ I just want to lie on the beach and eat hot dogs. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. ❞

❝ Close your mouth, sweetie. You look like a trout. ❞

❝ I do not like pregnant women in my workspace. They’re always complaining. I have varicose veins, too. I have swollen ankles. I’m constantly hungry. Do you think my nipples don’t get sore too? Do you think I don’t need to know the fastest way to the hospital? ❞

❝ No question about it, I am ready to get hurt again. ❞

❝ Guess what, I have flaws. What are they? Oh I don’t know. I sing in the shower. Sometimes I spend too much time volunteering. Occasionally I’ll hit somebody with my car. So sue me. ❞

❝ I am running away from my responsibilities. And it feels good. ❞

❝ Besides having sex with men, I would say the Finer Things Club is the gayest thing about me. ❞

❝ I don’t hate it. I just don’t like it at all and it’s terrible. ❞

❝ I am a black belt in gift wrapping. ❞

❝ I want to be wine and dined and sixty nined. ❞

❝ Your body is a temple. You have to respect it. You can’t just whore it out. ❞

❝ I am Beyonce, always. ❞

❝ I love inside jokes. I’d love to be a part of one someday. ❞

❝ I do not apologize unless I think I’m wrong, and if you don’t like it, you can leave. ❞

❝ Ultimatums are key. Basically nobody does anything for me anymore unless I threaten to kill myself. ❞

❝ As a person who buys a lot of erotic cakes, it’s nice to be represented on one. ❞

❝ Sometimes I get so bored I just want to scream, and then sometimes I actually do scream. I just sort of feel out what the situation calls for. ❞

❝ I miss the days when there was only one party I didn’t want to go to. ❞

[twoidiotwriters1]

Starcrossed Losers 2.IV (Josh Wheeler xF!Reader)

A/N: I’m sorry it took me so long omg I’m the worst. Let me know if I forgot to tag you or if you wanna be tagged -Danny

Words: 2,022

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to me!

I guess you're all expecting me to say something about what happened. I should, after all, I hid this piece of information from you, not that I owe it to you, but I guess it's confusing...

'More than just a dream...'

Josh and I are still holding hands while we start the tour, and I wish I could say I was feeling bad about it but to be honest I'm still way too drunk on the bliss to be ashamed. I felt bad though, I did promise Nathan a date before everything went to hell. As a matter of fact, he was going to be my homecoming date.

Where to start? Perhaps you'd like to know who Nathan was in my group of friends? Easy.

*Throwback time*

Nathan was the 'popular' of our group. Do you know how there's always that one friend that seems to know everyone for really strange reasons? The one that 'knows a guy, that knows a guy, that has a cousin'... that's Nathan.

He was also the good looking guy of our group. I know I said Alex was attractive, but man, Nathan was the real deal, he had charisma and a great smile, try to beat that when you're sixteen and have zero social skills.

I didn't have a crush on him though, but it was a very well thought decision like I said before, I wasn't going to let someone close to me break my heart, and both Nathan and Alex were too close, so I buried those thoughts about him before I could even consider it.

I never had a thing for him until... well, until he asked me to homecoming. I never knew why he asked me, I mean sure we were good friends but he never tried to make a move (and this is not me being oblivious this is me saying Nathan never even commented on my looks not even once). While I do remember having said to him something along the lines of "you're so pretty you annoy me" one night while I was completely shitfaced.

He laughed it off then, not bringing it up to tease me the next morning. He knew he was attractive and I certainly used to dream about dashing men like him coming to take me out for a ride or a movie, but I never thought that it'd be him the one who would ask me out.

'All the days I waited for you You know the ones who said I'd never find someone like you'

Then the end of the world happened and we never went to homecoming, yet we remained on the same group until one day he just vanished. No notes, no nothing. He left. He was also the first one to go, followed by Aria, then Phillip, then Lily, until we were just Maya, Alex and I, you know the rest.

We heard about Nathan a few weeks later though, the first loner on Glendale (Josh was very good at keeping a low profile, we didn't know he was by himself) and I thought it was a great idea to do the same, you know, follow the loner's path until I had Katie back... and you know how that turned out.

My point is, how was I supposed to know he was going to come back and still ask me for a date? What kind of person does that?

"Here we have the Cheeramazon division," Josh pointed to the sports section of the mall. "We teach sign language for those who are interested in learning, it's also handy for communicating while we're outside on a Ghoulie area..."

"Why're they here?" Nathan asked in a voice that was completely unlike him. "I mean, I know their old place got trashed but why haven't they looked for a new place?"

"They don't have enough people or resources," I replied. "They'll wait here until enough girls decide to join them or until they get enough food to survive on their own."

"And you guys are okay with that?"

"Good relationships with old tribes are everything," I shrugged. "We want to keep it friendly with everyone, we don't want to start another war."

"Really? Because you seemed ready to go out and set houses on fire five minutes ago," Josh replied sternly.

"That's different!" I scoff. "Those kids need our help and you know it!"

"What kids?" Nathan asked in curiosity.

"Are you familiar with the AV club?" I ask him.

"The kids with the podcast?"

"Exactly! They've been kidnapped and I've been trying to convince my tribe to go out and look for them but they refuse–"

"Because we're barely recovering from Triumph," Josh interrupted. "Listen Y/N, we can't be heroes fighting against some kids in suits..."

"Here we have the gamer's layer," I continue, forcing them to leave the subject. "But you don't have to write that down, they're leaving in a few days to their old cave. Been here to help us with some tech stuff..."

"Those over there are the X-jocks," Josh points over a couple of kids playing and exercising at the other side of the mall, "they followed Turbo after he was kicked out. They're no longer Jocks, but they don't want to be called Daybreakers either."

"They don't wanna mingle with all the weirdos, apparently," I roll my eyes.

"We have a healers division, which is coordinated by Y/N," Josh puts a hand on my shoulder and smiles. "She's great... a training division that Wesley and Turbo handle... Am I missing something?"

"The Daybreakers, which are lead by this loser," I look at Josh with a smirk. "He schedules our vigilance system, the hunts– Oh, and the weekly competitions."

"What are those about?"

"We organize tournaments and the awards are free days from working or having to go outside, stuff like that."

"Okay," Nathan nods, writing everything down. "I think that's all..."

"Cool," Someone calls Josh and he looks back at us. "Can you finish the tour on your own?"

"I– Yeah, okay," I reply anxiously. "See you in a while..."

Josh gives me a quick kiss and leaves to where he's needed, leaving me alone with Mister 'U-owe-me-a-date'.

"So..." I awkwardly start.

"I think I owe you an apology," He replies immediately.

"What?"

"I didn't know you and Josh... what I said was completely out of place anyway, who asks that kind of stuff to someone they haven't seen in months? I–"

"Nathan," I stop him, "It's okay, really, you didn't know, it's alright."

"I'm sorry," He repeats, this time calmer. "I ditch you and the group, I just... I don't know, I felt stuck..."

"I get that, we left too, eventually," I shrug. "Went to look for my sister, but... she died."

"Oh," He frowns. "I'm so sorry... was she–?"

"A Ghoulie, yeah," I sigh. "It's okay, I'm better now, I have this place and I have..."

"Josh..."

"I was going to say I have a sledgehammer, but sure," I joke.

He smiles and suddenly I remember why I used to like his smile so much. It really is quite dreamy.

'And you were out of my league All the things I believed You were just the right kind Yeah, you were more than just a dream'

"Those kids..." He mentions. "The AV club?"

"Yeah?" My heart jumps at the mention. "Do you know anything about them? Anything that could help?"

"No, but Josh mentioned kids in suits? I think I've seen them–"

"Y/N!" Josh runs back to us in a hurry. "They found them!"

"What? Who?"

"The AV Club!" He replies.

I try to walk over to the gamer's layer but Josh stops me.

"Wait," He holds me in place. "It's an X-Pug zone."

"That, or the kids in suits want us to believe it is," I point out, "Josh let me go! I want to know where it is!"

"We're not taking anyone there! You know we can't, Y/N! We don't have enough people, who knows how many of those are out there..."

I want to argue back but I know that Josh is right.

"Fine," I let go of his arms and he does the same with me. "Can I at least take a look? Maybe one day we'll go and... and just take a look..."

Josh doesn't need me to end the sentence though, he understands.

"Okay," He starts walking when Nathan speaks up.

"Can I see?"

We turn to see him, both wearing the same confused expression.

"It's just..." He moves his weight from one foot to the other. "I was telling Y/N that I've seen those kids before and maybe... I could talk to Sam, maybe she'd like to help?"

I look at Josh with my best puppy eyes and he sighs in defeat, nodding along.

"Fine..."

Nathan catches up with us and grins at me. What I shame I lost my chance with this guy, he looks like straight out of a fantasy, who knows, maybe he was the one meant to be with me if all this apocalypse stuff never happened in the first place...

'You were out of my league Got my heartbeat racing If I die, don't wake me 'Cause you are more than just a dream'

When we arrive Aria takes me directly to her laptop and points to the image in it. I hear her talk to Nathan for a moment while I see the streets and the directions and since I know the whole city by heart it takes me a minute to memorize the whole thing. I don't tell this to Josh, of course.

"Are you going to leave us alone now?" She asks irritatedly.

"Sure thing, you can leave during the night and I wouldn't even bat an eye at it," I reply, still looking at the screen. "Let me just..."

I pull out my phone and take a picture of the screen, is not perfect but it's quick and it's just in case. Josh gives me a warning look but I smile.

"Thank you for doing this," I step closer to him and put my arms around his neck. "See? It didn't kill us to find out, right?"

If I've learned anything in my short stupid life, is that flattery can take you places... and it distracts a boy's brain faster than anything else.

Josh smiles at me and I know I have his whole attention, so I quickly put my phone away.

"Anyway!" I break the spell and look at the gamers. "You guys did a good job, I'll leave you now. Nathan, let me walk you to the door..."

Halfway to the entrance, Nathan speaks.

"You're so not going to listen to what Josh told you to do. I know it, I can see it in your face."

"How long till I can hear from you and Sam?" I ask him in a business-like voice.

"A day, maybe two?"

"You think she'll help?"

"That if we can push Maya to a side."

"Don't mention my name and you'll have a bigger chance to succeed."

I stop at the door and turn to look at him decidedly.

"You have no idea how much this means to me."

"If you're risking your stay at the mall and your relationship with Josh, I assume a lot," He raises a brow.

"He won't kick me out for this," I roll my eyes.

"He's your leader, Y/N."

I remember that none of our feelings ever stopped Josh from kicking me out the first time. So he's not entirely wrong.

"Don't sweat it," Nathan shakes his head, "I'll do my best to keep everyone happy, just like you've been doing for the last few weeks. Consider this my thank you gift for all the hard work you've been doing, Vinchi."

"Oh," I cringe. "I don't really go by that nickname anymore..."

"Oh, sorry," He pouts. "Just Y/N, then?"

"Unless you have a new nickname for me," I grin.

Nathan tilts his head like he's considering what I'm saying.

"I'll think about it," He smiles.

"I'll see you in two days," I smile back.

'Yeah, you were more than just a dream...'

Taglist.

@letsbe-queer @slythermyg​ @loving-u-3000​ @one-loud-mind

[oftenderweapons]

Small Town Swoons

Hello buttercups! Here is the big fat project I was talking about. I am giving you snippets and teasers of the whole thing, just to let you know what you’re all getting yourself into. 

There are some spicy tidbits here and there, so I would suggest only mature (18+) people read and/or engage with this post. 

I’ll be starting with Yoongi since his piece is really in the holiday spirit and I’m super hella inspired to write it, but don’t worry, Steamy waters is still coming (just know that I’m not done publishing stuff for the night 👀)

Let me know what you think about this project, what story you like the most and which one you really really look forward to reading 💕✨

Just in case you need it, here is my masterlist

Enjoy 💜

Apple of My Pie — Jin

In the bakery and café near the university many students barge in, desperate for coffee and the delicious apple pies served there once October comes. Some of them barge in for the sweet sight of the owner, still mysteriously single. Little do you know that he’s been pining after you for years, since you ran into his café in a slow, rainy Sunday morning, drenched like a stray kitten, asking only for friendly help. Friendship sparks easily and his comfort tastes as sweet as autumn apples. That’s how you find yourself flatmates, watching movies with his secret recipe hot cocoa on Saturday evenings and waking up to the delicious scent of his pies on Sunday morning. But the sudden apparition of a rival makes you wonder, what would it be like to fall asleep in his bed every night?

Mold Me New — Taehyung

Divorce is a mess, especially when you’re so young and you had bet your life on your high school crush. All those things you never had to learn are scary now: dating, friends with benefits, all those secret rules on social interactions and flirting. But then your friends gift you a clay modelling lesson at the local pottery. Your teacher looks like a quiet, grumpy man who slowly warms up to you, offering you his kind smiles and gentle laughs. Right when fear that your lack in courtship manners might cost you your greatest chance at a new happiness, his lessons indirectly turn into small advice, and suddenly it feels like his hands are shaping your heart into the perfect, beautiful whole you needed. And to show him your gratitude, you’re more than willing to gift the artist his creation.

“Don’t let it dry too much. Too much water will mess it up. It will become too pliant and it won’t hold up.” That was it. The rule to love. You had bathed him in reassurance and affection, and just like that he had melted underneath your touch, and he had turned into nothing. And the love had run out. “Every shape has its specific requirements.” He explained, dipping his hands in the basin and letting the droplets fall from his fingertips. “Wet hands, but not drenched.” Once he was happy with the result he sat up, his foot starting a small pressure on the pedal. “See, here we go. The clay will show how much water it needs. Easy on the pedal. Very slow. You’re warming it up. Be gentle. You’re not sure it’s good. Just like with people. Easy at first, and once it works you speed up.” He smiled at the material underneath his hands. “Gentle. Easy.” He said, his sinewy fingers gently pressing into the art piece to be. His fingers seemed to stretch and bend imperceptibly, as if he was feeling the very texture of the material, and of the final result he wanted to obtain. “That’s the secret to good things.”

The Shrew, Untamed — Jimin

Everyone gets married in small towns. The hairdresser’s daughter, the butcher’s niece, the doctor’s granddaughter. Even your best friend. And someone has to organise all the weddings. You have taken part in so many it is unnerving. You’re not asking for a husband, a simple fuckbuddy would suffice. You don’t even need someone with skill, you just need to have sex with a human. Though your goal seems unattainable and life apparently truly sucks, the petty florist where you order the flower arrangements offers you a beacon of hope, comforting you and spoiling you whenever you visit his shop, condescending to your every whim. Will he satisfy your every wish or will you have to supervision your best friend’s wedding on the verge of sanity?

“Sit down, sweet pea.” He said, offering you his chair. He immediately stood behind you, digging his fingers into your shoulders, massaging them. He always smelled like greenery. It was relaxing. “Who pissed on your roses, tiger?” He asked, his thumbs drawing circles at the base of your neck. You moaned and closed your eyes. “Poor baby. So stressed.” He purred, laughing. “Portia is getting married.” You groaned. He ohed. “Your friend, Portia?” You frowned and pouted. “That bitch. Portia.” You growled. He laughed a silvery sound. “It’s your best friend.” “It’s a stressed out insult. She wants me to plan it. Jimin, I am so tired of watching people getting married.” He kneaded the nerves near to your spine. “It’s a professional hazard, baby’s breath.” His finger stilled as he reached the middle of your back without finding the clasp of your bra. He moved upwards, ignoring the small detail. “It’s the third in two weeks. I can’t. Is everybody getting married this spring?” You asked, your head rolling forward. “I’m tired. Stressed. Grumpy.” You whine. “Baby, you have your sugarcane at home, use it.” He said, referring to your swirl shaped dildo. You shook your head. “It’s the warmth. Human touch. Sympathy.” Ask me, please — Jimin mentally begged — I’ll be so sweet to you. “And now I even need a plus one for Portia’s wedding. Lest she pairs me up with her cousin. Did I mention that he’s thirty and bald?” You sighed. “I can help.” He said. “With the Plus one.” He clarified. “Don’t expect me to get my fingers in your pie, blossom.” He stated. You shook your head. “Your loss.” You tutted. His loss, for sure. Not like you wanted him massaging your breasts as you sucked him off, laying on your white silk sheets, his dulcet moans filling your lonely room and your empty

Natural Connection — Namjoon

The city sucks. And before you definitely choose to resign from your job, you spend the money earned with your all-work-and-no-play attitude in a reinvigorating holiday in a natural resort in the woods. What you find is true heaven on earth, an eden of wonders and explorations. When you meet your guide, who will follow you and you alone, you almost cannot believe your luck. The closed-off man leads you through all the breathtaking sights of your location, offering you emotions and landscapes unrivalled — both in terms of wildlife and... well, humans? The steamy atmosphere seems to keep growing hotter together with the summer days, and before you can think twice your big friendly giant helps you get rid of the hots. What happens when your Adam and Eve idyllium gets interrupted by a ruckus of stag-partying jocks?

Namjoon knew your average blood pressure at rest and under effort, your shoe size, your weight and height. Still when he found you right before him he could barely believe the sight of you. He knew you were small but this small? He was surprised. Amazed. Completely dazzled by your size. “Uhm. Kim Namjoon?” You asked, hesitant. God, even your voice was small — he noticed. As you got even closer, he realised you barely reached his sternum. He was endeared. He imagined how hugging you would feel. Why was he imagining to hug a stranger? “Hello! Welcome to the Valley!” He said, offering you his hand. You took it and shook it energetically. “Thank you. I assume you will be my guide during my stay.” You commented. “Exactly. I'll be your coach and your guide through the whole experience.” “Perfect.” You smiled. He was dumbstruck by it. So sweet and bright. You noticed he had a nice voice. And a kind smile. He looked like a very gentle giant. “Have you brought any specific equipment with you or would you prefer to use the one we offer?” “I have trekking boots and walking sticks. You know, basic stuff that's difficult to find when you're the size of a teapot.” He laughed a loud belly laugh, which surprised you and pleased you. “Okay, we can head to the hall and chat about your activity plan.” He said, leading you. Walking behind him was definitely a hard challenge, both because his legs were kilometric — and damn fine — and because how could you not stare at that ass right in front of your gaze, clad in oh-so tight shorts? Once he realized you were basically running behind him, he turned, a bit confused. And then embarrassed. “Sorry,” he smiled sheepishly, taking shorter steps. "Don't worry, it's okay. I'm a fast walker." You stated. He grinned. He barely stopped himself from murmuring a 'cute'. You were adorable.

Ink ‘n’ Run — Jungkook

People find awful ways to inculcate mean insecurities in our lives. It is to get rid of insecurity that you head to the talented tattooist in a small town near your campus, ready to ink your fears away. Ready to start from zero, you let yourself enjoy a night out clubbing and a steamy one night stand with a tattoed god. Hit by the morning-after regrets, you run away before he wakes up. Little do you know that he’ll be the man you’ll be spending several hours underneath, half-naked as he inks you. Such a shame that you keep running away each time he is ready to ask you for a date. And that he keeps running away after you convince yourself to concede him one. Will you manage to let each other see that you click perfectly or will you let that night be just an accident?

“Oh. You’re back. Lovely to see you, how can I help you?” He looks sweet. God, he was sweet, of course he looks sweet; you thought. He was the most gentle man you had ever been with. Wicked hips, but such a sweet mouth. “Uhm, I have an appointment?” You said, showing him the business card with the date and time of your appointment. “Oh.” His expression was the perfect depiction of confusion. “Uhm. I guess you can come into my studio, then. Do you have someone with you? Would you like Daisy to come in?” He said, looking at the girl sitting at the reception table. “No, I’m cool.” You forced yourself to form a tiny, polite smile on your face. As he walked ahead of you you noticed the way his tight black t-shirt hugged his narrow waist. And his wonderful, jeans-clad, toned ass. God, he had rammed into you like a mad man that night. You shook your head, trying to bring yourself back to reality. Meanwhile, his mind was fuelled by millions of questions. Why had you run? Were you freaked out by what was happening? Were you as affected as he was at the idea of him working on you? Did you think he was a fuckboy? Would you let him take you out on a date? Would you let him fuck you again? Wait, scratch the last one.

Head over Heals — Hoseok

You are the most talented ice skater of your state. Or rather, you were. Your career was harshly interrupted by an unfortunate accident. Healing from the hurtful events takes strong nerves and positive energy. Luckily, your physiotherapist — the neighbour of your childhood home — is the most positive, enthusiastic person. New feelings bloom like daisies on a warm spring morning, while old feelings rekindle and light your way back home like a field of fireflights, back to places that you’ve always loved. It takes little time to get used again to his sweet energy and his gentle hands, healing your body and your soul. It takes even less time to fall head over heels for him.

“What changed?” He asked, drying your tear with his thumb. “I don’t know. It feels like it changed.” He smiled. “You’re still the same to me. Same bright eyed little girl running around in a summer dress, smelling like honey shampoo and sun cream. You feel like home. I think nothing has been okay since you were gone.” Your heart took a second to melt and resolidify around that new truth. “Hobi.” His eyes were glittering. “I think I always had a soft spot for you. You and your knees always scraped, the small curls framing your face, the way your braids came undone that night as we were driving away after prom in the convertible your parents ran away in when they eloped.” He looked so sad. And so beautiful. “Hoseok, I never forgot you, you know. You were my first.” You confessed. “And you were mine.” He replied. He paused. “We were perfect.” “We were.” You replied. We still could be. We are.

Sugar and Spice — Yoongi

A new girl moves into town, her goal starting her life from scrap. And then on a foggy autumn night she ventures in the local pub, where she meets a cute, tattooed bartender who happens to be the local sweetheart. Fate — and the sweet granny next door — seem to push them together; it’s only a matter of time before feelings bloom and attraction becomes too intense to resist. The magic of a small town, and that loneliness that they share and understand so deeply, bring them close at the most wonderful time of the year. Love can blossom even in the dead of winter and who knows, maybe they’ll find a new life by the time of the new year?

“How does it feel to live in a small town?” You asked, stretching your legs out the flannel blanket. Sunlight came in through the yellow leaves of the apple trees. “Like time doesn’t really exist. Until you don’t have any left and suddenly your friends are getting married and having children and all you have is a useless piece of paper stating that you’re a doctor.” He said. “But it’s okay. It’s lovely, at times like this.” He said, looking at the sky. “Marriage and kids are overrated.” You said, laying down. He looked at you, your eyes closed, your hair coming out of his beanie, currently covering your head. “Don’t leave me alone here.” You had a beauty he had never known. Or that maybe he had seen in his mother. That rough, tough beauty that looks dangerous from afar. Delicate from up close. You weren’t gracious. You weren’t cobwebs and golden hair and clouds. You were the ground, the trees, the stone. You were the mountains capped in ice, beautiful and so endangered. Still, so steady. You were the forest, eternal. Nothing could marr you. No man, no humanly disgrace. You would weather and transform, like nature does. Maybe he was idealising you, maybe he was giving you all those traits he had always wished in a woman. “Stop staring at me. Lay down. Enjoy your seconds before you turn into a fifty-something lonesome worm.” You teased. He laid. Your hand found his. “I’ll tell you how a small town feels like, based on the opinion of a girl from a big city.” He exhaled a laugh. “It’s comfort. Like when it rains outside but you’re in your bed and you’re warm and you don’t have to get up. You can simply lay.” He rolled onto his side, staring at your eyelashes. If I blink, will she disappear?

[artificialqueens]

A Vampire in Paris: Part 3 (Gigi/Crystal) - Chae

A/N: well this took ten times longer than i expected… so sorry for the wait! (was anyone waiting? idk) hopefully I can update this at LEAST once a week for now ee. anyway thank you all so much for the support on the first two chapters, i’m so glad people enjoy my wacky fashion-vampire fantasy

Summary:  Gigi has an… interesting encounter with the supermodel trio and makes some big changes with Crystal

—-

Well, this was a situation.

Gigi broke out into a slight sweat as Aquaria, Naomi, and Valentina peered right into her soul at the cafe. She smiled awkwardly as she took a sip of water, seemingly the only one who actually drank… or ate. And she was eating a salad! In Paris! What the fuck were they looking at her like that for?!

The youngest model was still tired from the previous night, trying to push down her discomfort with happy thoughts of kissing Crystal. The ginger had tried desperately to look her best for her lunch date with the supermodels, shocked that they still didn’t seem impressed. After a long bout of silence as the three older girls eyed Gigi eating, Valentina piped up across from her.

“Gigi… what’s that short for?”

The aforementioned girl swallowed a lettuce leaf. “Genevieve. Genevieve Regina Goode.”

“That sounds like a movie character,” the tan beauty laughed. “I like your name.”

“Thanks. How did you get Valentina?”

“What do you mean? That’s just my name.”

“Oh,” Gigi cringed internally.”What’s your last name?”

“Hm, it’s been so long I don’t remember,” the girl smiled dopily as Aquaria slapped her arm next to her, annoyed. Gigi raised an eyebrow and Aquaria smiled fakely.

“We don’t really use our last names, except for Naomi because hers is easy,” the blonde said through her teeth, glaring at Valentina. The latter looked, confused, between Gigi and Aquaria. From next to her, Gigi could sense Naomi giving Valentina a look as well. 

“Oh!” She finally said, her face contorting into realization. “Yeah, we don’t use them,” the latina nodded. 

Gigi looked down, feeling as if she’d stumbled onto something she shouldn’t have—which was exactly what she wanted. Maybe she should press further…

“Why haven’t you guys eaten? These salads have a lot of good vitamins and stuff. I know we’re pressured into being like a size-negative-ten but what you ordere-”

“We already ate,” Naomi interrupted. “And if you feel self-conscious, sweets, don’t. Salads are good for you.”

“And you won’t have to worry about it much longer,” Valentina added earnestly. However, her kind… sentiment (?)… was not appreciated by the other two.

“Oh my god, shut up!” Aquaria whacked her on the back of the head. “You wanna get fired or something?!”

“I’m sorry guys,” Gigi tried to stop the drama. “I didn’t mean to intrude on whatever is happening-”

“No, no no! It’s not your fault,” Naomi explained, placing a freezing cold hand on Gigi’s shoulder. “It’s just that Valentina…”

“Valentina doesn’t know what she’s talking about, doll,” Aquaria smiled.

“Guuuuys I’m sorry!” Valentina whined. “I just keep forgetting she’s not a va-”

“Member of our team!” Aquaria shouted. “She’s not a member of our team,” the Italian jerked her head to the side, leaning towards Valentina and whispering something in her ear. The brunette’s eyebrows curved upwards as she whispered frantic sorries to her friend, who appeared absolutely venomous. Naomi rolled her eyes.

“We should head out and do some shopping, no? Maybe Val will be distracted by all the shiny things,” Naomi got up, rifling through her small purse for cash. Gigi nodded, just wanting to get out of this situation as soon as she could.

Soon enough, they were browsing at a beauty store—and yes, Valentina was distracted by the sparkly eyeshadows (go figure). Gigi wandered away from her ‘friends’ to the hair section, nearly passing by the dyes before a thought popped into her head. She grabbed two boxes of color and a toner off the shelf and smiled, paying for her items before finding the rest of the group. 

“Bought stuff already?” Aquaria looked at Gigi’s bag quizzically.

“It’s not makeup or anything, just had to restock,” the redhead lied.

“Oh, nice,” the blonde turned back to the lipstick she was trying on. Gigi filled the silent air by perusing the makeup counters, trying to not look too interested.

Naomi was texting someone with a coy smile plastered on her face, causing Gigi to remember something else odd she hadn’t addressed yet. 

“Aquaria?” She asked.

“Hm?”

“How did you get my number? I never found out.”

“Right. I asked Adore.”

“Adore doesn’t have my number…”

“Adore has everyone’s number,” she snapped, clearly looking annoyed. Gigi shrunk back and bit her lip. “The bitch has her ways,” Aquaria added.

“Can’t Fame access everyone’s data n’ stuff?” Valentina said offhandedly.

“What? Fame? Like Miss Fame?”

“Valentina, I’m going to rip your head off and smash it with my stiletto,” Aquaria threatened. 

“I thought Fame was… dead?” Gigi pressed.

“She is.”

“She is.”

Both Naomi and Aquaria looked the new model dead in the eyes, not a hint of intonation in their voices. Valentina, once again, looked at them confusedly, but held her tongue. Gigi felt the same glare that Raven had pierce her soul once again, and decided that enough was enough of these creeps. She stole away into the next aisle and ordered an Uber to pick her up ASAP. She peeked over the display and told the girls she was going to the bathroom, to which they nodded in unison without leaving their tasks. On that note, Gigi slinked out of the store and as far down the street as her heeled feet would take her.

She texted Crystal as she waited for the Uber, impatiently tapping her foot on the concrete ground.

Sexy Robot🥵🤖

heyyy, wanna meet up at your place? i have a surprise 

Hot Clown🤡🔥

DUH OMG u know I can’t wait 

when are u comin?

Sexy Robot🥵🤖

I’ll be there in like 20 mins 

Hot Clown🤡🔥

I can’t wait to see u🥺🥺🥺

Sexy Robot🥵🤖

keep your panties on, boss

Hot Clown🤡🔥

Don’t ever call me boss again you whore 

Sexy Robot🥵🤖

only for u ;)

Gigi smiled as her Uber finally arrived, excited to talk to Crystal after what happened the night prior. She’d not only had a steamy makeout session with a hot designer, she’d kissed the girl she liked when they were both semi-sober-ish. Her happiness was short-lived, though, when she received a text from Aquaria on a group chat she’d been added to. She exhaled nervously as she shut the car door, telling the driver where to go.

Hottest Hoes in Paris⭐️⭐️

Aquafina

Has anyone seen Gigi?

You’ve been in the bathroom an awful long time bitch

French Vanilla Fantasy

no :(

did she leave?!

GIGI WHERE ARE YOU

Bebe Badde

aaaa sorry guys I wasn’t feeling well!

LegsLegsLegsLegs

Awe babe you should have told us

Feel well soon

French Vanilla Fantasy

i send all my love to you!! 💛💘💚💘❤️💝💚💞💓❤️💘

Aquafina

Ya feel better!

Gigi sighed, having successfully escaped the strangest outing she’d ever been on. The drive to Fatelle was shorter than she’d expected, the model barely realizing she had reached her destination before paying the driver and nearly leaping out of the car. She sped into the lobby, saying hi to Adore before bounding to the elevator. She was almost giddy at the prospect of seeing Crystal again, unfamiliar with having a crush this strong. Gigi felt like she and Crystal fit together like puzzle pieces: anything she didn’t have, the designer did, and vice versa. But they still came together in the same picture, with the same values and dreams and—gosh, they were a match made in heaven.

Gigi gripped the shopping bag as she reached Crystals floor, finding her room (Crystal had texted her where she lived a few days prior) and knocking on the door. It opened almost immediately to a grinning Crystal, dressed in cute casual clothes and fluffy ugg slippers.

“What’s the surprise?” She said right away, letting the younger girl inside.

“First of all, hi,” Gigi rolled her eyes, giving the shorter girl a quick peck on the cheek. “Second of all, you’ll see. Third of all — you will not believe the day I’ve had.”

“Dang, it’s two PM!”

“And shits wild!”

“Spill.” Crystal plopped on the couch, motioning for Gigi to join her. The ginger kicked her shoes off and made herself comfortable, propping her tired legs on the coffee table. 

“So I met up with Aquaria and Naomi and Valentina…”

“No way!”

“Yes, Aqua invited me. And it was insane.”

“How?”

“Would you believe me if I told you that I think Fatelle is the Illuminati?”

“Honestly, with some of the shit that’s been going on…”

“Right?! Okay, they literally kept saying Miss Fame might be alive?”

“She’s alive in my heart, but… it’s been a whole century.”

“And they acted like it was real! And then Valentina said that I wouldn’t have to eat soon?“

“What? Why?”

“Like I wouldn’t physically need to eat.”

“That’s fucking weird.”

“It was the strangest thing. Am I in the Twilight Zone?”

“Maybe you’re in the Twilight! Edward or Jacob?”

“Edward.”

“Good choice. Edward.”

The two shared a chuckle, Crystal’s eyes flitting to the bag Gigi had brought.

“Is that the surprise?”

Gigi smirked, getting up and pulling out a box of bleach, purple toner, and a box of natural red dye. “Don’t think I didn’t remember what you said!”

“No! Oh my gosh you’re the best!” Crystal grabbed her dye and grinned widely, eyes crinkled in a cute way. “We have to do this now.”

“Raven’s gonna be pisssssed,” Gigi remembered, not really caring anyway.

“Raven is basically Edward’s cousin, who cares?”

“Oh shit she is like Edwards’ cousin! Bitch looks all pale and dark haired and ooky and spooky.”

“My mind.”

“Your mind.”

The two made their way to the bathroom, opening their goodies and setting up to do each other’s hair. Crystal wrapped a towel around Gigi’s shoulders, knowing her process would be much more time consuming.

“Have you done hair before?” The model asked as Crystal mixed up the bleach.

“For sure, I dyed my hair back to brown so I could look professional when I came here,” she laughed. “I had neon green before, remember?”

“Right!” 

Gigi couldn’t say she wasn’t nervous when Crystal began applying the dye to the ends of her hair, but trusted the designers judgement and vision. It was her fashion show, after all. The older girl worked quickly, yet thoroughly. She was used to working with her difficult curly hair, so it was easy for her to comb through Gigi’s nearly-straight locks. Strand by strand, she painted the bleach on with her gloved hands, unaware that her work was nearly causing Gigi to fall asleep at the calming feeling of her hair being lightly tugged. She model nearly dozed off when Crystal started massaging her scalp to make sure the roots were coated. Finally, Crystal was happy with her work, snapping Gigi back into reality when she placed a shower cap over the models head.

“Sleepyhead, you’ve gotta do my hair now,” Crystal discarded her latex gloves, brushing the back of her hand against Gigi’s cheek. “In half an hour you gotta take a shower with the toner, and then when you’re done, I take a shower and then we both have new hair!”

“I have a suggestion,” Gigi yawned. “Why don’t you keep giving me a head massage and I go to bed?”

“If you want your hair to fall out, sure.”

Gigi rolled her eyes, getting up to open the red box dye. She took out the components, following directions to mix the bottles together and shake it up. Apprehensively, she started squeezing the fluid all over Crystal’s hair and running it through the coils. “Is this right?”

“Just make sure every strand is coated, but yeah!” she smiled at Gigi through the mirror, and Gigi smirked back.

“So, do we need to talk about last night at all?” the model asked as she worked.

“Do you think we need to?”

“I mean, if we’re on the same page, no.”

“Are we?”

“What’s the definition of the same page, then?”

“Um… I liked kissing you?”

“Good, then we’re definitely on the same page,” Gigi blushed. She looked in the mirror for a second and laughed. “I look like a lunch lady!”

“Shush, you look pretty no matter what.”

“Says you, Crystalline Elizabeth.”

“Says the model, Genevieve Regina!”

“Oh. Well.”

“You bitch! You’re supposed to tell me how great I am.”

“Crystal Methyd, you are perfect.”

“I know I am.”

“Who’s the bitch now, bitch?”

This went on as Gigi finished applying the color to Crystal’s hair, placing her own cap over the voluminous mass of hair. Crystal checked the time. “You should go take a shower, Gi. And make sure to leave that toner on for ten minutes!”

“Got it,” she replied as Crystal exited the luxury bathroom into the bedroom. 

“I’ll leave you out some comfy clothes, hm?”

“What, you wanna cuddle and watch movies with me later?”

“Uh… yeah.”

“Thank god. I’ll see you soon,” Gigi leaned in for another quick peck on the cheek, a new habit she’d grown quite fond of. She shut the door and turned on the tap, waiting for the water to warm up before undressing and stepping inside.

Gigi was tired, but the steam against her skin helped balance her energy once again. She removed the shower cap, eyes widening at how light her hair was. She was used to her red hair turning almost-black when wet, but it was now a dirty brown color under the water. The dry strands were a nearly-white yellow. This will take some adjusting to, she thought as she quirted a glob of toner in her hands. She worked it through her hair for a couple minutes, careful to get every last bit. The next ten minutes were spent trying to keep her head out of the shower whilst keeping her body in, which was a difficult task that often left Gigi shivering without the warmth of the water on her body, only to put her arm or leg back in.

The model stepped out of the glass shower into the bathroom that was nearly identical to her own. She wiped the fog away from the mirror and stood, as she did, scanning her body. She was healthy, but extraordinarily petite. Many her size would have bones jutting out, maybe even appearing emaciated, but not Gigi. Her figure was all smooth lines and gentle curves. She had a waist and hips, but they certainly weren’t defined. Her breasts followed the outer curves of her chest, small and close together. She was a model. She looked like a model.

Gigi grabbed a towel once she noticed the goosebumps on her arms, using it to dry off and then wrapping it around herself. She decided to use the hairdryer as well, since apart from her hair taking forever to dry on its own, she wanted to see what it looked like now. As her locks returned to their normal state, Gigi could see that Crystal did a near-perfect job. Her hair was evenly colored a light-barbie-doll blonde all around — not too yellow, not too silver. She certainly looked like a barbie doll. She felt like one.

The girl exited the bathroom into the attached bedroom, calling out to Crystal that she was done. She found a set of satin pajama shorts and a shirt, surprised that the designer owned something so fancy. She changed quickly, feeling more than comfortable in this outfit.

As Crystal took her time in the bathroom, Gigi grew… bored. She felt lonely scrolling through Instagram all by herself, so she shut off her phone and sank back into the couch. Her eyes flickered from the ceiling, to the window, to the TV, and finally, to the bedroom entryway. Gigi wasn’t really the mischievous type, but hey, when in Paris. She smirked as she got up, starting by looking through Crystal’s dresser. Nothing of importance, really: just makeup, underwear (oh hey, those were garters… she wondered what those would look like on Crystal…), stacks and stacks of jewelry. So the model opted to look through the closet, a favorite activity of hers. Crystal’s wardrobe nearly burned Gigi’s eyes out when she first opened the doors. Colors and patterns everywhere, unorganized platform shoes falling over the floor. It was so bad, it was beautiful. Gigi began with the shoes, definitely wanting to steal some of them for herself.

As she got lost in Crystal’s fashion tastes, she failed to hear the shower shutting off and Crystal entering the bedroom, the newly-ginger letting out a yelp as she realized Gigi was there. The younger girl whipped around to see Crystal attempting to cover herself up with her hands, flustered beyond belief at the fact that she was…

butt naked.