#NOBODY LOOK AT THE FACT THAT I FORGOT TO FINISH HIS RIGHT SHOE

[hedgehog-hell]

it sure would suck to be thrown right about now!

[thetorturerwrites]

Lylas

Summ: Adam Sackler was never one for beating around the bush, but this level of blunt was beyond comprehension - even for him.

Notes: Purely self-indulgent filth. There will probably be other parts to this because I cannot get it out of my head, but I have no set time frame for it. Also, I do not apologize for the extraneous world-building in my smut. That's just how I roll... (Also also, some of this might be in response to the fact that not everything has to be squirting...)

~

“You should let me fuck you.”

The cavalier way he said such a bizarre thing made you short circuit. Astonished, you stopped mid-shoelace-tie and stared up at him. Adam Sackler was never one for beating around the bush, but this level of blunt was beyond comprehension - even for him.

“What?! Why?”

He grinned down at you because, with you right there on the ottoman, you sat eye level with his dick. With that cheshire grin turned on you, you unexpectedly forgot how to breathe. You’d never looked at Adam that way before, but with one question, he upended your world view. Adam was lethally beautiful, and he knew it. Shaggy black hair swept back and forth over his dark eyes to match his moods - off to the right for mischievous, low over the brow for brooding. It was easy to admit he was a looker, but you’d never considered him to be anything beyond that. A big, glaring red flag permanently hung over his head since the day he walked into your house. Now, though…

He certainly watched, and enjoyed, the struggle going on in your mind and not-so-casually slid both hands smoothly, purposefully into the pockets of those well-worn, low slung, faded blue jeans and leaned his hips forward at you. Of course you looked. Who wouldn’t? Catching yourself, you forced your eyes up to his green t-shirt, but that wasn’t much help because it fit him offensively well. Painted on would be an understatement. Adam was all wide shoulders and shelf-like pecs, and suddenly, you understood his sex appeal. Forcing your face into a placid mask, you waved him off and bent to finish tying your damn shoe. Time to get the fuck out of this room.

You forgot, however, that you’d asked him a question.

“One, you bring home shitty dudes. Two, I don’t want to date. After that last bullshit…”

The last bullshit being the most recent round of Hannah and Jessa, both idiot girls who ran roughshod over Adam and his tender heart. On more than one occasion, you’d seen fit to murder one right after the other, but nobody could tell Adam anything. He was a right pain in the ass and a whole pervert, but he was also kind and doting, a thing those two heifers took advantage of too often. He was also stubborn to a fault, and when he believed a thing, or when he wanted something, he would pursue it 100%. He’d believed in them, but even he had to admit they were trash in the end.

“... this would be the perfect solution.” You realized he’d not stopped talking while you took that mental break, and you struggled to focus. “One stop shop.”

Shoe finally situated, you stood, pretending not to be acutely aware of the way he watched you smooth the wrinkles from your plum blouse and rub the wrinkles out of the thighs of your pants. Masquerading as confident, you jabbed at the air between you.

“First? Rude.” Although, internally you admitted you brought home shitty dudes. They never seemed shitty until they walked out the door, leaving you unsatisfied and annoyed. All dudes were shitty, though, weren’t they? There was no earthly reason to believe Adam was any better despite how much he believed himself superior.

“Second? Jim and Carly would shit kittens.”

Jim and Carly were your parents - his mom and your dad, specifically. They met in Tahoe on a Friday and were married by the following Sunday. Secretly, you believed Carly was in it for the money because Jim was - no two ways about it - loaded, but she genuinely seemed to love your dad. After all the heartache he’d endured, you found you couldn’t begrudge him that happiness, even if it made your teeth itch. In a blur, the Sacklers moved into Jim’s mansion on the hill, filling it with more noise than either of you could remember. With internships, college, and the damn economy, it made sense for everyone to live at home; so, you all had to learn to live together.

Well, sort of. Jim and Carly never stayed home long enough to get used to anybody, really. Jetsetters, they called themselves, which left the rest of the household free rein.

At the mention of your part-time parents, Adam took a step forward, brow piqued, lips pursed.

“You in the habit of sharing all the naughty details about your love life with dear old daddy, baby sister?”

He only called you that when he wanted to rile you up or when he wanted something - both true in this case.

“Me?” You laughed, a full-on, hold your belly laugh. “Ha! You’re not exactly shy about the vast number of “dirty sluts” (you even treated him to finger quotes) you’ve found in the area, Sackler. You don’t need to tell us anything about your love life, you shit, because everybody already knows!”

Wiping delighted tears from your eyes, you shook your head. It really was too absurd.

“No, this is… too weird, and not for nothing, it's kind of creepy. I promise you’ll find shiny new sluts to fuck just around the corner at what’s-her-face’s block party. But please, wait five minutes so I can vacate the premises before you do whatever it is you do.”

~

Adam loved it when you laughed. He spent an inordinate amount of time trying to make you laugh because your eyes sparkled in such a pretty way, and your face softened all over. To put it plainly, you lit up from the inside. After Hannah’s crazy and Jessa’s perpetual moodiness, he simply enjoyed watching you laugh because it was easy to get you to do it. Easygoing and whip smart, he found he enjoyed the mental sparring with you because you could keep up, and you weren’t so fucking dramatic. 

That started everything.

Soon enough, he couldn’t get you - or your laugh - out of his head. Finding out about all the other faces and noises you made infected his brain. Now, when you laughed, his eyes trailed away from your face to the rest of your body because he wanted to see the effect of that laugh all over you. The bob of your breasts when he got you particularly good, the way you often held your waist and huffed at him, drawing attention to your generous hips - the details of you affected him far more than they should have and made him want to affect you just as much. 

If he was completely honest, he didn’t give a single shit if Jim or Carly ever found out. He was pretty sure he still wouldn’t give a shit if your relationship was by blood rather than marriage. He was going to fuck you. It was only a matter of time.

“Those are good reasons, baby sister, but that’s not a no…”

~

The problem was that Adam was right.

“Hey, uh..” The shitty dude you’d escorted to your front door turned at the threshold, beet red and stammering. “I’ll call you, yeah?”

You didn’t even remember his name.

“Sure. Yeah. Whenever?”

Probably more abruptly than you should have, you shut the door in his face and then let your forehead fall against it with a loud thud. You threw your fists in the air, irritated and crabby. Meeting him was nice. The party was pleasant; the wine flowed freely. His kisses tasted like candy, and the way he nibbled your neck was delightful.

After the banter, the ride home, and the bourbon, however, Rick… Robin?... Roger? Yes, Roger was all talk and no substance. His bed-game was decidedly lacking. All he’d accomplished was a nice warm-up, whiskey dick, and no grand finale for you. 

“It's. -thunk- Not. -thunk- That. -thunk- Hard!”

“Whatcha’up to, kid?”

You shrieked, jumped a foot off the floor, and spun with fists raised to knock the threat out, in theory at least.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Sackler. You scared the shit out of me.”

Rubbing at your sternum to calm the racing of your heart, you slumped back against the door. You concentrated so hard on regulating your breathing that you didn’t hear him shuffle closer. Nor did you notice him leaning over you, his thick left arm braced on the door above your head, until his crooked index finger lifted your chin. Only then did the alarm bells ring because damn that was a sexy move. And Christ on a cracker he smelled good - salt from the ocean blended with caramel spice. It made your mouth water. 

“Feel like now’s the time for I told you so,” he quipped, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Tell you what…” The arm that was overhead slithered over your torso, settling a good bit of his weight across your shoulders. “I’ll do this, and you can tell people I forced you.”

He winked, and a second later, his warm hand slid into your DIY sleep shorts. You’d worn the ugly cut-off sweatpants pair to dissuade your date from lingering. Now, you wished you’d found an actual pair of pants because the shorts only gave away how traitorous your cunt was. Skillfully, Adam’s middle finger found the groove between your tacky labia, using the residual (barely) slickness from your failed attempt at sexy times with… Rufus? Ryan? Regardless of his name, his touches were clumsy compared to this. Adam kept an even pace and the exact right amount of pressure, sliding in the perfect way to coerce more wetness from your entrance and carry it back to your swollen clit.

You croaked, straight up sounded like you swallowed a frog because as his fingers defiled you south of the border, his stare wrecked you up north. His beautiful brown eyes were whiskey warm tonight, softened at the edges but intently focused upon you. You could get drunk on those kinds of eyes. If he gazed at all his conquests like this - as though nothing else mattered - you understood the pull. It moved, his stare, from your eyes to your mouth and back. You nearly begged him to kiss you but this was already so strange, so taboo. 

And yet… and yet…

~

He’d never been so fucking pleased to be right in his life.

All he had to do was get you there, and he’d win the argument. Roman, a guy he met on the track, was manufactured to be an idiot and would never figure out how to fuck right, even if his life hung in the balance. How he'd managed to even meet you was beyond understanding. 

Adam, however, had been fucking since he was 14, and he’d long since learned all the magic buttons. It was the one good thing to have come from his years struggling with sobriety. Replacing alcohol with sex taught him a lifetime’s worth of skills. Skills he now used to pull another squeak from your pouty mouth. Each time the pad of his finger caught your hood, the reluctant peep you made shot straight to his dick. He wasn’t sure if he would manage to not fuck you tonight, but he reminded himself that he had to play the long game.

For a solid 30 seconds, he rubbed only at your clit, back and forth, back and forth. He set a very specific rhythm that had you twisting beneath him deliciously. Your yelping grew louder and louder until one in particular cracked, and that was his cue.

“Hold my shoulder.” He nudged your nose with his to get your attention and nodded when both of your hands came up to rest on his chest and biceps. “That’s it.”

He couldn’t help himself from licking at the way your mouth popped open when he slid his fingers inside of you. The way the corners turned up was too tantalizing to ignore.

~

Mother Mary of God… He was inside you. Granted, it was only his fingers, but they belonged to your step-brother. Your face burned, but the hundred objections your brain conjured died at the back of your tongue because fuck, they were good. Two fingers, middle and ring, had you whining like a schoolgirl as he carefully, deliberately explored you. He wasn’t awkward about it like every other dude who’d been in your pants. He didn’t stab at your cunt as though he’d miraculously grown a jackhammer for a hand.

Nope. He took his time, slow and steady. He noted the angles and ridges that made you moan. And when he found that perfect spot, the spot that made you curse far louder than you intended, he stayed right there. There was no in and out anymore, no poking or prodding. Once he found it, his touch shifted from up/down and in/out to side to side. You came unfuckingglued. All ten fingers dug into hard flesh. You all but leapt into his arms as he rubbed at your tight bundle of electric nerves from the inside. And the more you responded, the faster he went.

“There’s nobody here, kid. Let’s hear it.”

You couldn’t have swallowed the cries for every dollar your dad invested in this huge-ass house. Your hips bucked against Adam’s expert manhandling, chasing that elusive sort of orgasm you can only get from someone else. Closer and closer it crept. Tighter and tighter you wound. From you knew not where, you found your voice, though it was scratchy and broken.

“D-don’t stop un-until I sh-sh-shake.”

His dark brow lifted, but he didn’t argue. It was a thing hardly anybody knew (because hardly anybody could fucking deliver), but a great orgasm, a really fantastic one, made you shake. Not tremble. Not wiggle. A full-body, clack your teeth kind of shake. On another day, you’d have been embarrassed to tell him that, but you watched determination change his face from amused and entertained to keenly interested. His efforts inside your cunt multiplied until you went rigid. He wanted to see it, clearly, but more than that, you wanted it, salivated for it. Right here on the cusp, you didn’t care that it would happen at his hands.

With your head tipped back, eyes screwed shut, and mouth agape, that hot-wet bud of ecstasy finally bloomed, and you wailed. It was electric, shooting sparks into your fingertips, but somehow, in the very middle of it, both of your hands wrapped around his wrist on the off chance he’d stop right at the best part, which they all did, but Adam only chuckled and carried right on fucking you stupid with nothing but two fingers.

Vulgar sounds squelched out around his fingers to accompany the vulgar things he whispered in your ear. Dirty girl with your pants around your ankles. Are you always this easy? Who’s the best big brother ever? Your pussy gushed; your ears rang. You rode his fingers like a champion, reveling in the quake and the rag-doll rattling of your insides.

The whole thing was indecent, fit for film, really.

~

Don’t fuck this up. Don’t fuck this up. You cannot fuck her tonight. Do not fuck this up.

Long game. Long game. Long game.

You fell back against the door, wincing when he extricated his fingers. He wanted to wrap himself around you and keep pushing, but he held back. This was a delicate operation, and straying too much to either side would fuck it all up. You’d either blow up at him and feel like he actually assaulted you, or you’d never speak to him again. Neither was a winning scenario. Tamping down his near-manic need to taste you, he gently traced your lips with his gummy fingers until you opened your eyes.

“That was some show, kid.”

Confusion crinkled the corners of your eyes, and he nuzzled your chin, matching the fire in your cheek with his own. He understood. His proposal wasn’t normal, and how much you’d obviously enjoyed it probably had you all up in your feelings. Hovering his mouth above yours, so close he could feel your breath, he fought himself over whether you needed to be kissed.

But when you lifted ever so slightly onto your toes, seeking it out, he clenched his jaw hard and fought the urge to fuck you right here on the floor. Somehow, he kept his shit together, and he thought certainly he deserved a goddamn medal for valor. He pushed away and veered you towards the stairs.

“Time to go, little sister. It’s past your bedtime.”

~

For a week, Adam cornered you at least once a day to stuff your pussy full of his thick fingers and make you beg. After that first time, he knew exactly how to play you, and he delighted in drawing it out until you pleaded for him to make you cum. You’d mistakenly said his name during your second encounter, and now, he wouldn’t come anywhere near the things that made you shake without hearing it.

You never considered yourself the begging type, but it turns out that when someone knows precisely the way to touch you and the exact right way to make you scream as you climax, begging becomes much more palatable. It also turns out that whether Jim and Carly were home didn’t make a single bit of difference because when Adam texted you his offer from across the kitchen table, you ran after him like the house was on fire.

That’s how you wound up here, sitting on the edge of Adam’s desk, naked as the day you were born, legs spread obscenely wide and panties crammed in your mouth to keep you muffled if not quiet. With one hand deftly driving into your messy cunt and one wrapped around your hip to coax it into a rocking motion, he all but pulverized your sanity. Up was down, left was right, and “brother” was just another fucking word. As you inched higher and higher up climax mountain, you rationalized you weren’t really doing anything wrong. He’d never fucked you in any other way than this. He wasn’t a real brother, either. There was nothing wrong with a little fun, right? Sure, it was strange, but when he… fuck when he hit that spot right… right there… your brain went…

“You should let me fuck you,” he murmured against your throat, a throwback to what started all this.

It crackled in your prefrontal cortex, and you pushed at his bare chest, babbling incoherently because part of you thought it was the worst idea ever, and part of you thought it would be the best fucking thing in the history of ever. They argued with each other behind your eyes. That was too far. Wasn’t it? But it would feel so good. You couldn’t, possibly. Right? Sure, you could. Twice on Sunday, even. Surely, he had plenty of other options. Didn’t he? Who fucking cares?

“Just a little, kid. I’ve made it good for you, yeah? Just the tip.”

Your thoughts on the matter were irrelevant, it seemed, because the clink of his buckle launched you into a panic. You tried to escape his grip by leaning back, but he clenched his arm around your back, making escape impossible. Struggling to keep calm, you realized it felt ridiculous and performative to panic because you splayed across his desk like you were posing for his calendar. You gawked at him, eyes shining with something you couldn’t quite pin down because processing that your step-brother was about to put any part of his dick inside you was overwhelming. This was too much, too forbidden.

“Now, don’t look at me like that.” He rubbed soothing circles into your ribcage and stepped in. You felt the weight of a cock you’d never seen laying against your swollen pussy, eliciting a low groan. “Only for a minute. Stay right there; don’t move.”

And then, there it was. The round head of Adam’s cock slowly breached your body’s sticky barrier and scrambled your senses. Tears formed. Your chest heaved - because you wanted him to ravage you, to fuck you dumb and blind, but you just couldn’t. Right?

Maybe your inner monologue wasn’t so silent. Or maybe he read your mind. Something changed, though, from “just the tip” to an iron grip and his right hand over your gagged mouth as he snapped his hips and slid all the way home.

~

Adam expected you to shout, to have an outright tantrum and draw far too much attention to the situation. Instead, you shuddered against him the way you did when you came all over his fingers - not as hard but definitely unmistakable.

“That’s it. S’good cock, isn’t it? Told you you’d like it.”

Testing the waters, he withdrew about halfway and slowly pushed in again, absolutely loving the way you moaned in response. He’d nearly cum in his pants when you let him shove your panties into your mouth, and whenever he looked at you still gritting your teeth into them, his dick throbbed. With no firm objection, he unwound from his caging stance and took proper hold of your perfect, meaty ass. He scooted you closer to the edge of his desk, damn near falling off, so he could get his demanding dick inside you from tip to root right fucking now.

~

Adam’s cock was fat. There was no other way to describe it. He filled you up so completely you couldn’t even blink. The slide of his girth against your insides was dizzyingly good, and all you could do was cling to his shoulders.

And when he started talking? That dirty way with that sexy-ass voice?

It fucked you all the way up.

The things he said to you, too, differed from the things you’d heard him say to his hook-ups. They were filthy sluts, not even worthy to come over in the daylight, just a hole for him to get off to. You were his dirty little sister, though, weren’t you? Too cock-drunk to even say no to big brother. You loved his fat cock, didn’t you? You’d let him fuck you whenever he wanted, wouldn’t you?

You were positively, expertly, no two ways about it done for.

Like a dick-addled fool, you nodded along with all of it. You’d say whatever he wanted as long as he kept packing more and more of his missile cock into your aching cunt. Maybe that’s what you wanted - to be reduced to an object, a fuckdoll sister he’d turn inside out at his whim with no recourse to say no. When that idea took hold, you vibrated against him. You generally didn’t orgasm from penetration alone, but by sheer size, Adam rubbed at every single one of your spongy triggers with each stroke. Coupled with the downright pornographic thoughts in your fucked-out head, you whined like a petulant child, overcome by the effort it took to keep quiet, to keep yourself coherent.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

Your eyes flew open, tracking the voice to its owner, who leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over a very familiar broad chest. You burned from ears to toes, knowing this looked exactly like what it was, and there was no pretending it was anything else. Even worse, your deviant fantasy abruptly shifted to include these extra details - wind-faded jeans, threadbare gray cotton shirt bleached by the sun, and a brush of red across a nose and cheekbones matching those you'd looked up at for days. He was a carbon copy of the man currently demolishing your boundaries by burying himself to the hilt in your body.

Ben, Adam’s twin, the wayward son, had finally home from his camping trip to the desert.

~

Adam nestled his face in your neck to hide his smugness. He knew his brother would be home today, and he timed everything around the fact Ben said he’d be here early afternoon. Edging you was a cake-walk. He’d been practicing all week, and when he saw the text asking if he needed anything from their favorite pizza place, he knew how much time he had to get you right and ready so Ben would find you well and truly empty-headed and sexed out. 

Ben wasn’t sold on having you. He half liked the idea, but he thought it was more trouble than it would be worth. More than once, though, Adam caught him lazily stroking himself while watching you run down the beach or sunbathe by the pool. It would only take a nudge to get his brother fully invested. Adam played the moment, and specifically you, perfectly, and holy shit if this wasn’t one for the books. You and your round eyes, searching for an explanation that would make sense of why he was balls deep in your tight cunt on a Saturday afternoon.

“Someone’s been a bad girl,” he said to his brother, licking a stripe across your thundering pulse. “What do you think, bad girl, wanna show Ben how you shake?”

~

You sobbed. There was nothing for it because Adam’s cock never stopped. His brother’s presence in the room didn’t faze him one bit, and it took a full minute for you to realize it was some of that twin bullshit you were always on them about. Of course they’d seen each other fucking. They probably fucked lots of people together. You bristled with humiliation because it was obvious Adam set this up, but your pussy, smart bitch, clutched at his every thrust, considerably more so when he asked you such a depraved thing.

Meeker than you intended, you nodded because yes, you did, in fact, want to show Ben how you came. 

Adam shifted his weight, pulling out of your sloppy cunt for only the time it took to put your feet on the floor and turn you to face Ben. He hummed as he grabbed your hips, pulled you back against his body, and let his cock find his target. Your head dropped on a moan as he filled you back up because it was even better this way. You had surer footing, could brace yourself on the desk’s corner, and didn’t have to concentrate on not falling. Using fistfuls of your hips as leverage, Adam crashed into you, sending jolts throughout your already overstimulated body. It was glorious.

And then, Ben’s boots came into your line of sight, followed swiftly by his muscular hand around your throat, silver rings cool against your heated flesh. You tracked beauty mark to beauty mark, wondering when the constellations kissed his cheeks. You should have been mortified. Ben finding you here with Adam should have struck you dead there and then, but it only emboldened you because his eyes weren’t full of judgment. He wasn’t disgusted by what he saw. His honey-gold gaze, laced with hunger, burned into you possessively. He held you by the neck, the strength of his grip waxing and waning in time to your heartbeat, while his brother plowed you from behind. When his voice wiggled its way into your ear, your knees nearly buckled. Adam’s was clear but devious, which made his filthy quips more surprising because they were hard to expect. Ben talked very little. His voice, which you didn’t truly appreciate until this moment, was rough and low, like his very voice box was calloused.

“Is this the first time he’s fucked you?”

You whimpered, eyes drifting shut until you felt a rough tap at your cheek. His face, all furrowed brows and licked lips, telegraphed that next time, he’d slap you proper. Pushing yourself to stare straight into his eyes - it was like looking into the sun - you nodded again, feeling every bit of your desire dribble down your legs because one brother was great, but two was immaculate.

“Is this the last time he’ll fuck you?”

Your guts clenched, and you reached out to stabilize yourself by laying both hands on Ben’s chest, which you already understood was only because he allowed it. Without a second thought, eager even, you shook your head. You’d reached the point where you’d let him - no them - do whatever they wanted whenever they wanted it because holy goddamn.

Adam chose this moment to increase the speed with which he fucked you into oblivion. His hips slapped against yours, hands clamping down onto your shoulders for better leverage. Your eyes crossed, and you nearly swallowed your gag. With one hand on Ben, you reached up to grip Adam’s fingers, anchoring yourself between the two of them. They were your literal rock and a hard place, and they worked in tandem to drive you thoroughly crazy. Ben’s hand slipped between your legs, fingers finding your slippery clit. You howled, spine waking up to tingle and dance. 

“Fuck, there it is,” Adam groaned behind you. 

What else could you do but give him what he wanted?

~

His brother had told him about the way you shook when you orgasmed, and he really had thought nothing of it. Most people did that, didn’t they? If you did the job right, there was always a tremor in the legs, a wobble in the walk.

Ben was not prepared for the way you shook when you came.

For a second, he thought you were about to have a seizure, but he watched your face smooth out in pleasure, watched your lips turn up at the very corners, and he was flat out shocked by what he’d just witnessed. 

You loved it. Loved being fucked. Loved coming so undone your mind stopped working. For him, it was the way you smiled as you came. The shaking was stunning, of course, but nobody he’d ever fucked before had goddamn smiled - beamed! - through their climax. It was truly the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

And then he grinned like the devil himself because fucking hell…

“You’re fucked, little sister. You know that?” 

He scooped some of your slick onto his finger and popped it in his mouth. Shit, you even tasted like candy.

“Well and truly fucked.”

[yourmcu]

Forgotten (CONTINUED VERSION)

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Peter Parker x Stark!reader (platonic)

Request:

Hello i love your story could you do angsty tony x daughter reader. Wherein the reader has a twin brother and Tony and the avengers prefer the twin brother and becaus of that, the reader became rebel and badass. She always getting trouble and almost drop out student. The avengers and her father were seem disappointed and dont know what to do. Not until the reader involve into car accident and she's critical injured. The reader also slipped to coma. Everyone is devastated about the reader conditione. And they realized that the reader only rebel because she wants to get attention from them. It depends to you what the end come, I just want a full angst this week and I hope you dont mind my English. Anyway I hope your alright.

A/n: y’all wanted it, I finished it :)

Word count: 3,984

(more notes at the end!)

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort? bad writing of an anxiety attack, accident, knife, hospitals

read it on ao3!

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

Being a genius/billionaire/superhero’s kid doesn’t always sound nice like it usually does.

You were one of the Stark twins, the other half being your brother, Ethan.

The both of you showed signs that you inherited the commonly known Stark trait (intelligence) at a young age. But Tony mostly focused on his son, showing him all his inventions and gadgets, teaching him everything he knew while you on the other hand, were being babysat by Happy or Pepper, sometimes Rhodey.

You tried so hard to get your father’s attention but he always had his excuses:

“I don’t have time for that.”

“I’m busy with Ethan right now.”

“Maybe later.”

At first you didn’t mind if your brother got all the praise and attention. It wasn’t until your mid-teens that you really started to feel left out and ignored.

You were left to frown when the other Avengers never found anything interesting about you, just like Tony did. They all liked Ethan better. The topic of him being the next Iron Man when Tony retires is getting exhausting.

There was this one time when Tony announced that they were all going out to dinner since Ethan got, yet again, a full set of A’s on his report card.

“Did you get my card?” You tapped on Tony’s shoulder lightly.

He gave you a side glance, “ah shoot, I forgot. I’ll go get it tomorrow.” Then returned his attention to your brother.

But he ended up forgetting again the next day and you had to convince your teacher to give it to you instead. Your marks had A’s, but littered with B’s as well, of course that was no match for your brother’s perfect marks.

And that sort of scenario wasn’t just a one time thing, Tony forgets to pick up your report card every. single. time. The messed up part was you and Ethan literally attended the same school, he was just in a more advanced class than you.

As time passed, Tony went from ignoring you to getting annoyed and pissed at you for everything you did. In his eyes, you were always in the wrong. And the reason? You didn’t know.

“Dad? Can I borrow Bruce for a minute?” You knocked on the glass door of his lab to get him to look up.

He didn’t, but responded, “kinda busy with him right now.”

You looked at your fractured arm, regretting your decisions. “W-well, Ethan was training with Nat, and... and he wanted to try the new moves he learned on me. He went a little hard and - I think my arm’s broken, I just wanted Bruce to check it out-”

“Goddammit!” He shouted after you heard a glass shatter. Bruce covered his face with palms, muttering an ‘oh no’.

Tony glared at you, striding to where you were standing. All that was left for you to do was to brace yourself for what was about to come. “See, this is why we never let you do anything with the team,” he spat. “That right there?”-he pointed to your arm-“that’s on you. Things go wrong because you’re in the way!”

“I’m... I’m sorry-”

“Just get out of here.”

Your arm remained untreated after that.

Then Peter Parker came into the picture. Friendly guy, he was actually nice to you. Him and Ethan got along right away when Tony first recruited him. The fact that he treated Peter better than you made you even more miserable. It made you think he never wanted a daughter in the first place.

You first met Peter when he accidentally entered your room without warning, thinking it was the bathroom. Cliche, but that’s what happened.

“It’s on the first door to your other left,” you stated.

“Yeah, yeah okay, thanks,” he turned around to leave but stopped to look at you again. “I’m Peter Parker, by the way.”

“Y/N Stark.”

Peter’s eyes lit up at your last name. “I... I didn’t know Mr. Stark had a daughter - no offense! It’s just-”

You sighed and waved him off. He didn’t even notice the similarities you had with your twin. “It’s fine. I get that a lot.”

After many events of being, to be blunt, treated like shit, you finally had enough. You neglected your studies, only went to school when you felt like it (which was rare). No one cared your grades anyway, so what’s the point? You became a whole new person, you surrounded yourself with the wrong sort of people, causing you to dabble into smoking and alcohol.

Since you were always in trouble, you could recite Cap’s detention speech at school by heart now.

The principal of your school wanted to see Tony to talk about your behavior. Normally he’d make an excuse not to go if it wasn’t that important but he got flooded with messages from the school, so he couldn’t say no.

You had your legs crossed, sitting across from Tony who had his eyebrows furrowed as he listened to the principal. For some reason you didn’t feel nervous. “Y/N barely attends her classes. I’ve seen every attendance. Are you aware of this, Mr. Stark?”

Tony only maintained his usual relaxed posture and avoided your gaze.

“Some students have also seen her smoke in school grounds. We gave her a few weeks suspension for it, but it doesn’t look like she’s learned her lesson.” They pulled out a couple boxes of cigarettes from the desk drawer. “We found these in her locker.”

“You went into my locker?” You shot up from your seat. “You can’t just do that!”

Tony cleared his throat and got up, gripping your wrist. “I’ll take it from here - will that be all?”

On the way out he doesn’t say a word to you, only that his grip on your wrist got tight as you near the car.

“So,” he started the car. His voice was calm, but it screamed that you were in deep trouble. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

You sighed and slouched in the passenger’s seat, crossing your arms. “I’m... sorry you had to know...?”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna be honest with you here,” Tony still doesn’t look at you. “When I found out I had two kids, I got worried about Ethan.”

You let out a snort. Of course he would.

“I didn’t want him ending up like me. But surprise surprise, my daughter did instead.”

“I’m not ‘ending up’ like you, Dad-”

“Then what do you call - this,” he referred to you. “What, you’re just gonna waste your life, drop out of school? You’re a fucking mess, Y/N, and here I thought I raised you right. Sometimes I think: why can’t you just be like your brother?” He had a hard grip on the steering wheel as he drove, the way he spoke affected the speed of the car greatly.

You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t fine the exact words you wanted to say. “I... well, I’m sorry I’m not a goody two shoes like him!”

“That’s not what I-”

“Please, that’s exactly what you meant.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Look, I’m grounding you until you pull yourself together, understand?” And he did. He gave new orders to Friday when the both of you got home. You weren’t allowed to leave the compound without Tony’s permission.

Were you giving up that easily? Of course not.

You were on your laptop for the rest of the day, hacking into Friday’s system, the security to the elevator and the entrance. That night, your executed your plan and everything went smoothly.

“This is why you never underestimate me,” you sighed, deactivating the hack once you were out of the building.

Your friend who was picking you up was already waiting a few blocks away from the compound. “I hope you’re cool with me staying over for a couple days.”

“If a bunch of Avengers come and destroy my place to look for you, I’m not going to be friends with you anymore.”

You laughed at out, “oh trust me, they don’t care.”

----

The next day no one noticed your absence, nobody did for another two days. Tony just assumed you were mad about your punishment, so he didn’t think of it much.

Not until Peter came to the compound on the third day, wanting to hang out with you.

“Whatcha got there, Pete?” Ethan asked.

“Star Wars movies. I wanna watch them with Y/N - she could use some company, don’t you think?”

The older Stark twin shrugged, “yeah, I guess she could.”

Peter then headed to the elevator and stopped at the floor where your room was. He knocked on your door and waited a bit, after a few minutes of silence he knocked again, still nothing.

“Y/N? Is it okay if I come in?” He called out. No response. He hesitated a bit, for all he knew you were probably changing or something, or you could be in danger. He went to open the door anyway. “I’m coming in, I’ll close my eyes just to be-”

To Peter’s surprise, your room was empty.

----

You were at a 711 parking lot, waiting for your friends who were buying supplies for a house party. You gave them your wallet, not really caring about anything anymore. Your phone was starting to pile up with messages and missed calls from Tony, Edward and Peter, occasionally from the others as you scrolled pass more.

Without thinking you threw your phone to the ground, cracking the screen, breaking it completely. They’d be able to track you through it now that they know you ran away. You really had no intention of coming back. You weren’t wanted, what’s the point of going back?It’s early but you’ve had a few drinks already. You weren’t sure if breaking your phone was a good idea but there’s one thing you’re sure: you didn’t care anymore.

You didn’t have to turn your head to see who just arrived and ambushed your friends inside the store. They ran out and left you behind. The sound of webs coming out of his shooters was enough for you to tell.

“You shouldn’t be here, Peter,” you sighed defeatedly.

Peter gently took a seat next to you, not removing his mask since you were in public and handed your wallet back. “I don’t understand why you left.”

He took in your awful state. His suit scanned how intoxicated you were, estimated how many cigarette packets you’ve had. His frown deepened at the information.

“I care about you. We all do. Mr. Stark’s not going to stop the search party until you come home.”

You rolled your eyes at the term. “Stupid search party – pathetic – I’m not coming home anymore, Pete-” you slurred and tried to get up but stumbled back, almost twisting your ankle but fell to Peter’s side. “Ow.”

He sighed, struggling to get ahold of you since you always pulled away.

“Stop being so stubborn, okay?”

“If you don’t like my stubborn fucking ass then maybe you should just leave,” you stated. “I’m not wanted there. I got the message. I didn’t run away just to be fucking found.”

Peter stared at you for a moment. He didn’t know why you got grounded in the first place, how you got here and why you didn’t want to go back home. There was something off in the father-daughter relationship, he knew that, but it was news to him that it was that bad. That bad for you to waste your life, to run away. He always thought Mr. Stark was an awesome parent, the way he was treating Ethan, and him…

“It’s unfair,” you ranted. “God, if you only knew how pathetic I feel whenever he tells me off. I’m always annoying to him - not just to him, to the whole team, I’m always wrong in everything I do and it’s honestly tiring? What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”

You went on rambling while Peter tried to comfort and deny every negative thing that came out of your mouth. He didn’t believe any of it, but the way everyone’s been treating you. He hated that he didn’t notice sooner. He could’ve defended you.

“I have nothing against you, I really don’t,” you sighed. “But you should be grateful they’re treating you perfectly.” You got up and strode to the opposite direction, mentally cursing because your friends ditched you and you has nowhere to go, phone destroyed and everything.

But you were staying true to your word: you didn’t have any plans to go back to the compound. You were going to figure your life out on your own.

“Y/N, I… I’m not leaving you alone out here!”

You were so fed up of the spider-ling. How good he was, how perfect, how Tony clearly wanted him more than you, how he always wanted to do the right thing, because none of you expected what happened next when he went to grab your shoulder. The action was so sudden that it Peter didn’t have time to avoid it.

Knife, shoulder, really deep.

Maybe it was just how wasted you were, because he knew you would never do anything like that.

“You’re really annoying, Parker,” you muttered, not wasting any more time watching him stumble out of shock and pain, sprinting across the streets.

With his uninjured arm, he shot webs while trying to pull the knife (the blade wasn’t even visible anymore on how deep it was) out of his shoulder. There was a loud bang, and Peter never sprinted so fast in his life, not caring less about the pain and blood, because what mattered most was your safety. When he got there, you were far from safe.

-----

A week went by. And during those seven days Tony was on edge, I mean, how can be calm at a time like that?

Peter managed to show up at the compound the same night, breathless and shaky. His state made everyone worried but he wasted no time telling Tony what happened. He got you to the hospital, making sure you were being sorted out right before leaving to break the news.

Tony didn’t think twice and went to the hospital where you were admitted, not listening to Peter’s apologies and leaving Steve to sort everyone out on what they should do.

They didn’t expect you to show signs of waking up after only a week since the accident got you mangled up, it was mostly a blow to the head and as expected, you slipped into a coma.

Right, what happened: an awful timing really, not sure if Peter’s the one to blame but he accidentally stuck you to the ground with his webs, and it just so happened a car was driving at a fast speed – there you go.

Tony made sure you got the best treatment possible. He even went and asked Strange if he could do all the surgeries needed, but he declined, claiming he couldn’t anymore despite the sympathy he felt inside. Instead he asked the best doctors he knew, but still helped out sometimes in any way he could.

You took a breath, trying to open your eyes but the blinding lights of your room and them almost feeling as if they were glued shut from not being open for so long prevented you. You also tried moving your hands, only to feel a warm one rest on top of it, you finally opened your eyes.

“You’re awake,” Tony mumbled, rubbing a thumb on the back of your palm soothingly. “You’re awake and you’re okay.”

“Mr. Stark?” Peter called out, spotting his mentor sitting outside the room where they were doing the final surgery on you. It was his first time visiting, seeing as the knife wound was worse than he thought. “I’m so sorry, I-“

“What happened?” Was the only thing Tony said, not looking up to look at the kid. Peter stood there for a moment but told him everything that happened.

After that and after he made sure you were okay, resting in your room and everything, he let Natasha look after you for the night and headed back to the compound.

The kid would never lie to him but he had to see it all for himself. The Spider-Man suit caught everything through the baby monitor protocol. From when he arrived to the convenient store, when you told him countless of times that you weren’t coming back, and when your drunk self ranted about what you felt.

“What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”

“He seemed to like both of us equally when we were younger,” you sniffled. “Of course he would, but… my brother just turned out to be special and talented and,” you frowned, “he’s all Tony ever wanted for a kid. Maybe I reminded him of the chick he fucked, I don’t know – must be it, right?”

“Y/N, you’re just as special as-” Peter tried to reason but you threw him a glare. Tony could see the pain and heartbreak in your bloodshot, tired eyes. One that said you didn’t want to hear anything like it anymore. You didn’t want to believe it.

“The thing is, they only want you when you’re gone. Missing. Dead,” you shrugged. “I can take a hint, you know? My only family hates me. My only family doesn’t want me. Now you – all of them – are looking for me… why?” Peter flinched at the loudness of your voice. You truly were broken.

Tony fast forwarded, it didn’t clearly show how you got hit, but he had enough anyway. He wanted to make things right with you. He could only hope that you make pass this, hoping that you’ll let him make it up to you.

“It’s not too late, you know,” Steve said from the entrance to his lab. “Y/N is strong. She’ll make it.”

“Why am I not dead?” You croaked, looking at your father with an anxious expression. You letting out another shaky breath as you struggled to move and look around. “I should be dead. Why am I here-”

“Take it easy-”

“Don’t you understand?” You felt your throat aching, breath quickening. “I don’t want to be here!”

“No, you’re okay. Y/N you’re okay,” Tony tried to calm you down when he saw the lines in your heart monitor go up and down in rapid pace. 

“I’m not - no I’m not - not okay,” you struggled to let out. It felt like you were choking on your own breath, getting harder and harder to breathe by the minute, soon tears started to prick your eyes. “I don’t want to be here!”

“Tony, what's going on?” Steve bursted into the room with an alarmed but calm expression.

“Call Strange. Anyone.” He told the captain but his eyes never left you. He rubbed a part of your arm that wasn’t injured soothingly in attempt to calm you down. “Just breathe for me, okay? I’m here and you’re okay.”

Something about the softness and encouraging look in his eyes made you nod eventually and follow his breathing patterns. He held a glass of water for you to drink, holding your struggling hand softly to get it out of the way.

He’s never looked at you like that before.

Most of the time he ignored you, most of the time he looked at you at anger or annoyance when you’ve fucked something up.

“There we go, we okay now?” You looked away and nodded lightly. That was enough for him. Tony wanted to let you know how sorry he was so bad, but thought against it, at least for now. He was scared you might start freaking out again.

Stephen entered the room with the doctor, the other Avengers following closely behind. The amount of people in the room overwhelmed you a bit, but you were strangely calm because of how your father’s acting. Soft and caring, it made you feel safe.

Both doctors concluded that you had some sort of amnesia. In English, your past memories were blotchy, all of them even from your childhood. Again because of the blow to the head it was already expected. But you remembered the recent ones clearly, which was the reason why you avoided looking at Peter and his patched up arm.

Which also meant it was possible you didn’t remember all of the pain you felt concerning your family. It was unfair on your part.

Strange insisted that you stay a few more days, or one more week, just to run tests and make sure you get enough medicine and stuff.

They decided to see how bad your memory loss was.

“I did that to you,” you still refused to look at Peter completely. “I’m sorry, Peter.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” Peter gave you a smile.

You moved to the next person. Red hair, seemed to give off a friendly but civil nature. “Natasha? You’re Natasha.”

The Russian merely smiled and crossed her arms.

“Steve,” you stated, moving to the next person. “You always read old books in the kitchen.”

Steve chuckled, nodding to confirm.

“Ethan,” you smiled as you looked at your twin. He gave you a small wave even if he felt as guilty as Tony about everything even if he wasn’t the one to blame.

You stared longer at the next person, almost shoulder length dark brown hair, he’s wearing a jacket to cover his metal arm but you knew it was still there.

“Ducky?”

Peter let out a giggle, so did you brother.

“It’s Bucky, doll,” Bucky smiled, covering his face with his hand to suppress a chuckle as the rest laughed.

“Oh, right, I’m sorry,” you let out a weak giggle yourself.

You meet Tony’s eyes again, the softness still there.

“Dad,” you stated. “You’re my dad. Tony.”

No, you didn’t completely forget how he treated you. You knew he was annoyed with you, which lead you to think that you did something that made him act that way. “Am I bad?”

Tony’s hopeful expression dimmed. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

You shrugged. “You’re mad at me, I just… I guess it’s just not clear on why.”

Steve thought it would be best for everyone to head out for a bit so he ushered everyone out of the room except for your brother who took a seat at the corner.

“About that, it’s about time we talked, yeah?” Tony sat on a chair backwards beside your bed. It made you nervous, but you were reassured. “You’re not in trouble, don’t worry.”

He exhaled, resting an arm on the top rail. “You deserve so much better. I should’ve treated you better,” you opened your mouth to ask but he continued. “Look, I haven’t been fair with you and it’s a problem. You’re smart, talented and beautiful. I figured you needed to hear it more often because it’s true. What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry. I really am.”

Your bottom lip involuntarily trembled. “You – you really mean that?”

“From the bottom of my heart.”

You sighed, a genuine smile plastered on your face. “Thank you. And I’m sorry if I was a pain in the ass-“

“You never were,” Tony shook his head. “You always did your best and I really should have acknowledged it more. Give me a second chance?”

“Of course.”

Tony smiled, getting up and planting a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Everything in life was so much better after all that. Tony treated you and Ethan equally, same goes for Peter. The other Avengers were nicer, not the kind of nice that was almost fake, but it was genuine. All of them were. And you were thankful.

----

TAGLIST: @contanto-que-voce-me-queira @angeldreineedshelp @legendarymcnuggies @zoeyserpentluck @vienmiaprendere @alainabooks143 @hessogxlden

DID ANYONE MISS ME? BC I MISSED THIS PLACE

I highly doubt anyone’s still waiting for this, it was an unplanned hiatus I’M SO SORRY but I decided to post anyway :))

also I hope this wasn’t underwhelming, that’s one of the reasons why I was hesitant to do this but I hope its good heh (I’ve included the parts from my first post as well, just so it feels like a full fic)

WAIT I ALSO HIT 300 FOLLOWERS? INSANE. THANK YOU. I MEAN IT.

[michaelgovehateblog]

Piggy in the Middle

Queen Elizabeth x Michael Gove, Michael Gove x Matt Hancock, 1500 words

“Michael Gove and Sarah Vine to divorce.” She knew it was bad, but Elizabeth’s heart couldn’t help but skip a beat when she saw the headlines. She had spent years forcing herself to ignore how she really felt about Michael and pretending the flirty looks and comments they shared were meaningless or all in her head; after all, they were both married, and publicly at that, especially in the case of her and Philip. And it’s not that she didn’t love Philip, because she of course did, but there was something about Gove and his pig-like face that just drew her in. And now she was rid of Philip, and Michael and Sarah were splitting up – maybe there was a chance for them.

Not that they would be able to go public with it if anything even did happen between them. As far as the country knew, Elizabeth was still mourning Philip, just putting on a brave face and soldiering on without him. The public probably wouldn’t be able to deal with her moving on so soon. She sighed – her life as a parasite was so difficult.

Elizabeth was so lost in her thoughts she almost didn’t hear the knock at her door, and subsequent voice.

“Your Majesty? It’s 12, we’re scheduled to leave now.”

“Of course, I’m coming now.” She responded, and stood up to leave, making sure to glance in the mirror to check she still looked presentable. Everything was still pristine: icy white grey hairs all perfectly in place and nude lipstick completely un-smudged. She was wearing a long royal blue (her signature colour) coat with large buttons of a slightly softer blue colour, all of which were done up. This was worn over a classy floral-patterned dress, which wasn’t visible under the jacket. Perched on top of her head was an elaborate hat made from material the exact same colour as the coat and adorned with white and blue flowers. The shoes she wore were a standard pair of elegant black heels and the look was finished off with a pair of black gloves.

Satisfied the outfit was perfectly uncreased as always, Elizabeth left the room to head to the whatever event it was this time, she didn’t really care. Mostly she just showed up at these things for a bit of good PR and so people would continue believe she works hard and really cares about the common people (Which she didn’t obviously. Why would she.) Although, she was certain that someone had told her that this event would have many politicians also in attendance, so she was hopeful that she might encounter a certain cabinet member.

As per usual, Elizabeth was finding the event mind-numbingly boring, just endless shaking hands with forgettable people she was supposed to pretend to be interested in. But then she spotted him. And at the same moment she saw him, Michael glanced in her direction and they were making direct eye contact. She gave him a shy smile, which he returned as he started walking towards her, not breaking eye contact.

“Your Majesty,” said Michael, extending his arm to shake hands, “How are you today?” They shook hands, Michael noticing how dry and wrinkly Elizabeth’s felt, and her in turn mentally noting the bizarre clamminess of his, both of which only increased each person’s attraction to the other.

“I’m doing wonderfully,” she responded, “And thoroughly enjoying this lovely event.” she made sure to add, aware of how many people were probably in earshot. “But what about yourself? I heard the news. It must be a difficult time for you.”

Michael’s heart skipped a beat upon hearing this; he couldn’t believe that the Queen actually cared enough about him to pay attention to the news about him and his (soon to be ex) wife. He had always felt there was some kind of connection between the two of them but told himself he was imagining it – what other option did he have. But unusually for his cowardly personality, he got a sudden burst of confidence, and was shocked to hear himself talking.

“Ma’am, I think I need to step outside to get some fresh air. Would you be interested in joining me for a walk?” He hadn’t had confidence to do anything like that since his coked-up days of 20 years ago. Well, he always said 20 years ago, but those close to him, such as Matt Hancock, knew he was prone to enjoy a smidge of the substance of an evening.

“Yes, I would enjoy that a lot.” replied Elizabeth, much to Michael’s delight. He offered out his elbow, purely out of politeness, of course, which she accepted, outwardly calmly but very eagerly inside. A walk outside would probably mean time properly alone, where other people couldn’t hear them, something they had probably never had before.

They continued small talk for a while, about the event and such, until they were far enough away from the general crowds for more intimate conversation.

"How have you been coping, Ma'am, without the Prince? Such an unexpected shame, his untimely demise like that. It was truly a shock to all of us."

Right, 'untimely'. Elizabeth often forgot that Philip's death was supposed to be something entirely unexpected for her, not something she knew would happen down to the exact time and place.

"Missing him, of course, but life has to go on. And it's strange to remember that I am single again, after all these years. That's not been the case since I was 13 and Philip was an adult."

"Yes, it's the same for me, minus the questionable age difference. I’ve been married to Sarah for so long that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to meet other people - and be with other people...” at these words the two made eye contact, neither knowing what to say aloud but having an entire unspoken conversation.

“Mr Gove… Or Michael, may I call you Michael? Would you be interested in visiting the Palace for dinner sometime soon? I could give you a personal tour of the grounds.”

“Yes, Ma’am, of course you can call me Michael,” Almost unthinkingly, the pair faced each other and reached for each other's hands. “And I would be honoured to visit the palace, Ma’am.”

Elizabeth let out a sigh she didn’t know she was holding, “Please, no need to bother with the formalities, at least not whilst nobody else is listening. Call me Elizabeth. Now, we should probably head back inside to the event, we’ve been out here a while, people will be missing me. They basically worship me. But I’ll get someone to contact you about your visit to the palace - I’d do it myself, only that sort of thing is far beneath me.” A smile spread over Michael’s pig-mannequin hybrid face as they made their way back inside.

What they hadn’t realised during their encounter, was that it wasn’t as private as they had thought; in fact another politician had been lurking and watching the entire scene.And he wasn’t happy about what he saw. As soon as Elizabeth and Michael walked off in separate directions, Matt Hancock quickly grabbed Gove by the arm and dragged him into a quiet corridor.

“Hancock.”

“Gove. I saw you outside just now, heard you talking with a certain monarch. The two of you seemed quite friendly.”

“Oh. Right. I hadn’t thought anyone else had been outside. You won’t - you won’t tell anyone what you saw or heard, will you?”

“I won’t. But only because it’s you, if it had been anybody else, I would be telling the sun immediately. The queen’s new love interest, I couldn’t hope for anything better to get the tabloids off my back. But because it’s you - I couldn’t hurt you like that.”

“Matt, what do you mean? Why are you making an exception for me?”

“Govey, as if you don’t know. You must have realised how I feel about you.” Hancock stepped closer to Gove and in his mind’s eye, imagined the Sims social interactions menu, and pictured selecting ‘kiss’. (It was from looking at the characters in the game, after all, that he learnt to kiss in the first place. The mindset and techniques stuck with him.) To his delight, he felt Michael kissing him back. Matt deepened the kiss and their tongues battled for dominance. Suddenly, Michael pulled away and stared, speechless, at Matt.

After about half a minute unable to muster any coherent thoughts (not even coherent by conservative standards) Gove turned away and briskly walked to an empty room, where he could sit alone and process all of what just happened. Not only was he certain now that Elizabeth felt the same spark that he did, but Hancock, whom he had secretly had a low-level affection for for many years, had just snogged him out of jealousy? He didn’t expect to be wrapped up in a love triangle the very day his divorce was announced, and yet it seemed that was what was happening. His years of being an incompetent and sleazy politician had clearly earned him some admirers.

~~

If you made it to the end, I'm only partly sorry for what you just read. I would be willing to write a second chapter if for some godforsaken reason somebody actually would want to read one. This took me far too long to write for something that is honestly not that many words but I feel like it's understandable, given the subject matter. k bye

[consumeconstantly]

A Discowing at the Wayne Gala

Summary: Getting Jason to go to the Wayne Gala each year was more difficult than putting the Joker away in Arkham; he insisted the part was full of pretentious, rich social climbers who were horribly boring. As it turned out, all he really needed to persuade him was an upset, drunk girl rambling about how much she was going to deck her highschool enemies there to convince himself that he’d be in for a great show. (AKA the extremely chaotic and nonsensical salt/crack fic)

____________________________________________________

“I, Mar--” she hiccupped, “Marinette Dupain-Cheng solemnly swear to rip Lila a new one with Discowing’s godawful costume.”

“You say it girl!” called some random person from across the bar. 

“I will--” another hiccup “--use Batman’s Batmobile to run over Kim. And slam Red Hood’s ugly ass helmet onto Adrien’s stupid face.”

“Better yet,” Marinette pounded the table, “I will use their stupid utility belts to dismantle Gabriel’s empire. Somebody give me a yeah!”

“Yeah!”

All in all, the sight wasn’t that atypical for a bar in Gotham, if it weren’t for the fact that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was barely five feet, wore pigtails, and knocked five men on their asses when they tried to approach her. 

“Take that, Hawkass,” she hissed. “Think you can pull a fast one on me when I’m drunk, do you? Well I’ve got news for you!”

Her words slurred together, and she leaned on the bar for support. “When I get my way, you’re going to be tied up into a pretzel and dumped into a volcano, then the tundra and then we’ll see how you like your stupid little jewlery touched.”

“Dupain-Cheng,” her blonde companion hissed. “Get yourself together. We don’t need another one of your breakdowns now. You know we’re going to be busy tomorrow night, and I don’t want to deal with you completely hung over all throughout the gala.”

“Aww,” Marinette squished her cheek onto Chloe’s “You know you love me.”

“Yes, yes, but I’m not going to tolerate this bullshit. If you want to make good on your plans, you need to be in tip top shape.”

“Ughhhh, why are they even invited to the stupid gala? It’s not even like they’re rich! Oh wait, I guess they are…” Marinette pressed her face to the bar, which was undoubtedly dirty. She reveled in it’s coolness, brushing her bangs out of her face. “And why do you have to be right? I guess I have to stop drinking if I want to make any of my plans work.”

“Your plans will work, hungover or not. It’s just a question of how much you’ll be able to enjoy them. I don’t want you complaining for months after the fact that you don’t remember half of what happened.”

“I guess you’re right. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and I'm feeling a little too warm to ice them out.” Staggering, Marinette got to her feet. “Call an Uber?”

“It’s already here.”

#

“What made you change your mind?” Tim frowned at Jason, doubtful that he wasn’t going to cop out at the last second. He was sure that he was only putting on his suit as some sort of deliberate ploy to get out of the Gala. Truthfully, it wasn’t required that all of them attend the Gala, but it was one of the few events that brought together most of the Wayne family.

Jason ran a hand through his hair and smirked. “Let’s just say I’m expecting quite the show.”

#

Jason kept a hawkish gaze on the entrance, waiting for the appearance of one short, pigtailed girl, and a taller blonde. They arrived almost forty five minutes into the Gala, which was good timing; not late enough to be considered rude, but most people have already arrived and have made their rounds.

Marinette looked different out of the dim lighting of the bar, and even though she definitely looks like she’s nursing a light hangover, she still managed to look stunning. With a matte-black floor length dress that attracted all light in the vicinity towards it, it’s hard not to look her way; Tim, for one, stared at the outfits that Marinette and her companion are wearing with stars in his eyes. Any moment now, he’s going to approach them. Or he would if he weren’t on Jason-sitting duty.

“I’ll play nice,” Jason promised.

“You? Nice?” Tim sounded incredulous, and it’s not like he can fault him. Whenever Jason did successfully get roped into coming to the Gala, it’s a sure thing that he gets at least one fist fight started, if not an everyone for themselves sort of situation. 

“They’re the reason I decided to come. It’s not me you have to be worried about.”

Tim groaned. “Really? They’re trouble makers? But they’re wearing MDC!”

Jason chuckled, slipping a hand into his pants pocket. Tim was weirdly obsessed with the highly secretive French designer. Nobody ever saw them in person. “Wearing your fashion icon doesn’t mean they can’t kick ass.”

Tim rocked back on his heels, looking at the two girls calculatively. “That’s right. If anything, they’re more likely to kick ass, because that’s the kind of confidence that MDC inspires in their designs. Well, if you’re not going to fight them, I’m going to introduce myself.”

“And I can’t leave my little brother alone.” Jason said, watching the blonde girl point in the direction of, if he wasn’t mistaken, Gabriel Agreste’s son and his plus one.

Who knew that doing a preliminary reading of the guests would be so informative? He could only guess what kind of beef Marinette had with Agreste Jr.--Bruce had enough problems with Gabriel; even though Wayne Enterprises only dabbled in fashion, Gabriel was a ruthless man when it came to his competitors, and tried to edge them out of the market multiple times. Foolish on his part, not taking into consideration that both Bruce and Tim were very, very stubborn people who only get more difficult to face when dealing with a challenge.

Wayne Enterprise might primarily be considered with R&D and technology companies, but underestimating the amount of influence Tim could gather when someone pissed him off was just a bad idea.

“Hi, I’m Tim--”

“--and it’s lovely to meet you, but we’re on a mission right now,” finished the blonde girl, who Jason was now 98% sure is Chloe Bourgeois, daughter of Paris’ mayor and Style Queen Audrey Bourgeois. “Dupain-Cheng, it’s your time to shine.”

“God,” Marinette muttered underneath her breath, ducking her head. “I can’t believe you’re holding me to what I said while drunk last night.”

“It’s not just what you said drunk last night, it’s the most effective way of dealing with that liar. She’ll be so embarrassed she’ll hide away forever. Maybe get some plastic surgery and change her name. Daddy will make sure she can never step foot in Paris again.” 

“Chloe,” Marinette groaned. “We all know how that panned out last time. Do you want a repeat performance?”

“By that time Hawkmoth will already be taken down. No need to worry about evil butterflies.”

“Evil butterflies?” Tim frowned. 

“We can fill you in later, Marinette has a car to steal.”

“Chloe!” 

“Oh stuff it, Dupain-Cheng, you’re no goody two shoes, even though you pretend to be one.”

Marinette whispers into Chloe’s ear, eyeing Jason and Tim. “Do you have to discuss that with other people around?”

“Well,” Chloe crossed her arms. “You boys aren’t going to rat us out, are you? They’re part of the infamous Wayne family. They’ll definitely be in.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You know they already reached out-- I can’t risk--” Marinette kept cutting herself off. “Fine, but if you-know-what falls through, I’m putting it all on you.”

“Like they’re going to pass you up just because of what’s going to go down at this gala. If anything, they’ll be glad to know that you’re as vicious as you are creative,” Chloe checked her nails and touched her hair, making sure it was in place.

“Sorry, what? I’m a little bit lost.”

“Keep up, Drake. I’m beginning to doubt your title as child-genius.You have the unique opportunity to watch history in the making.”

#

“Wait,” Tim’s jaw almost dropped at the display in front of him. “How did you even--”

“Trade secret. Marinette doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“But that’s the Batmobile.”

“Yeah, and?”

Jason laughed. He stole the hubcaps off the Batmobile, Marinette stole the whole thing. What a sight.

#

Here’s how the rest of the night went: Chloe plied Marinette with copious amounts of water, trying to get rid of her headache. Marinette hopped into the driver’s seat of the Batmobile (to which Chloe cackled, “And she doesn’t even have a driver’s license yet,” and Tim paled to the shade of freshly fired ceramic plate.) They ran over Kim, who, somehow managed to get into the event as a server of sorts, at which point Tim swore that the background checks would have to be upped again. Marinette landed the Batmobile in the middle of the gala, barely managing to avoid several innocents who were in her path. She reached into the convenient storage compartment that Jason was previously unaware of and pulled out the Discowing outfit and his helmet-- seriously, how did she get those?-- and slammed the car door.

Security, of course, was waiting for them. How couldn’t they, with that big of a disturbance? Half of the guests were up in a tizzy-- mostly the ones who were experiencing their first Wayne Gala-- and the other half were looking on, amused. Tim waved the guards off as Marinette made her way to Lila and Adrien, like a vengeful Valkyrie.

“You,” Marinette grimaced. “Chloe, say the words, I forgot them.”

“We decided that words were useless, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Marinette said, before promptly slamming Red Hood’s helmet onto Adrien’s head hard enough for him to fall to the ground, likely concussed. Lila, who started screeching and running away made for a surprisingly difficult target. Well, difficult in the fact that she was using other people as shields, but once she came across a group of Experienced Wayne Gala Goers, she got pushed out of her comfort zone.

In eight inch heels and with her hair down, Marinette stalked towards her prey. 

“Lila Rossi,” Marinette intoned. “Your sins will be judged.”

“What are you going to do, Marinette? You have no power here. We’re in America now. No Ladybug to back you up. No public opinion in your favor.”

Marinette shuddered. “Ugh, your voice makes me want to vomit. In any case, I sentence you to life in Discowing’s costume.”

“You can’t make me wear anything!”

Famous last words, Lila.

#

“I’m still so confused. What just happened?”

“Don’t worry,” Chloe gave Tim a pat on the back. “You’ll get used to this kind of thing if you end up hanging around Marinette more often.”

“I think I’m in love,” said Jason.

“Get in the back of the line. The only thing Marinette has time for now are her plans to take down Hawkmoth.”

“I’m not opposed to joining you. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.” Jason paused. “By the way, has she already stolen the utility belts to take down Gabriel or does she need more? I’ve got contacts.”

 "Fair warning, everything in Paris is at least twenty times crazier than what you’ve seen here today.” Chloe swiped through a few notifications on her phone. “And please, do you think someone who hotwired the Batmobile needs your help getting her hands on a couple utility belts? If she really put her mind to it, she could get the Lasso of Truth from Wonder Woman.”

“Yeah, Jason, I’m definitely not going to join you on that trip.” Tim turned his attention towards Marinette, who was currently passed out on the hotel couch. “Anyways, You two are wearing MDC, right? I have a meeting with them tomorrow!”

Chloe looked at the poor boy with pity. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.”

@jasonette-july-2k20

________________________________________________

i’m really churning out these jasonette prompts like butter (god butter is so freaking good you ever eat butter straight? i do. heart attack city & the next paula dean) even tho i only thought about joining in right when july was ending but here we are 

[skiesofthesketchy]

Stood Up {1}

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: You have a date with your friend that you’ve liked forever, but he never shows up.

Note: Heyyyyy Please read the warnings before proceeding. This is one of the darker things I’ve ever written, and it might trigger some people so please be careful. I’m usually a fluff writer but I’ve been feeling... ya know, down lately so this is what I made. I’m working on the second part to Unsend still, but haven’t been in the mood lately so sorry it’s taking so long!

Let me know what you think! :)

Word Count: 6.5k

Stood Up: {Part 2} / { Part 3}

WARNINGS: Violence and abuse! sexual violence! trauma! swearing, angst

WARNINGS: Violence and abuse! sexual violence! trauma! swearing, angst

***

Y/N’s P.O.V.

10:00 PM

I pulled my sweater tighter against me when I felt a small burst of wind, the chill making goosebumps surface on my bare legs. I looked left and right down the black street, but nobody was around. It was quiet, almost silent besides dried leaves scraping against the pavement, and the only light was the orange glow from the street lamps and the red neon sign above my head casting onto the empty street. It was a nice night, even with the cool breeze, but I could feel my nerves kicking in.

I tried to remain optimistic though. Maybe he’s just running late... I pulled out my phone again to see if JJ had texted me back, but he hadn’t.

On my way! See in you 20 :)

I sighed, looking at the last text I sent him. I only sent it hoping to remind him that we had plans tonight in case he forgot. He always forgets. 

‘He’s just a forgetful person,’ I tell myself for what feels like the thousandth time. It’s usually that phrase that makes me feel better, or ‘He’s got a lot going on.’ I never make it a big deal when he misses our plans, even though it feels like a small piece of my heart breaks off and dies every time it happens. 

‘This time is different though,’ I told myself. It was just yesterday that I mentioned the movie theater was showing a bunch of Quentin Tarantino films this week. I tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal, just a fun thing me and my friends could all do together, but I was truly very excited about it and really hoped they’d be down. 

“Are they showing Kill Bill?” JJ asked with a smile. The other pogues didn’t seem interested but I was happy that JJ was. 

“Yeah. Tomorrow night actually,” I shrugged.

“We should go.”

I smiled softly at him. “Sure, if you want to.”

He chuckled, blue eyes lighting up as he poked my cheek. I knew he could see right past my nonchalant demeanor. “That’s your favorite movie ever. Of course I want to go see it with you! My treat.”

I ignored the fluttering in my belly, but couldn’t hide my smile. He remembers my favorite movie and wants to watch it with me. “You don’t have to pay for me,” I shook my head with a laugh. I didn’t expect him to, but the fact that he offered made my chest warm. JJ doesn’t have much money to begin with, and with what he does have, he usually spends on weed and beer, necessities in his daily life.

“No, no,” he tsked, bringing me into a hug. My giddy grin was thankfully hidden in his chest. Being this close to him always makes me feel lighter than air, warmer than the summer breeze. “You’re my girl. Let me take you out,” he finished, chuckling into my hair. 

I felt heat rise to my cheeks, like I always did when he called me his girl. I nodded in agreement once I pulled away from his embrace. “Ten o’clock tomorrow, okay?”

“I’ll be there,” he replied, saluting me with a wink before turning to join the conversation the rest of the pogues were engaged in, leaving me to internally gush about going on a date with the boy I’ve liked since forever. 

Maybe it wasn’t a date, or maybe it was. I didn’t really know, but I didn’t care as long as I got to spend time with JJ. It really did feel like this time was different. My thoughts swirled, wondering if he likes me back. Wanting to take me to a movie makes it sound like he likes me, right?

Date or not, I wanted to look nice, so I spent more time getting ready than I normally did. I experimented with some light makeup, trying to make it subtle but still pretty. I left my hair down after making it look somewhat decent, something I hardly ever do because my go-to is always putting it up. I even picked out a dress to wear but made sure to choose one that JJ had seen me in plenty of times. I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard, but still hoped he would notice my appearance and think I looked pretty. 

10:10 PM

The movie started ten minutes ago, and still no word from JJ. I glanced down at my shoes and hugged myself tighter. ‘Maybe he did forget... again.’ I didn’t want to believe it, giving JJ the benefit of the doubt like I always did. But he still wasn’t here.

Yo are you coming? I sent another text.

I was really excited about tonight, not just because I’d be seeing one of my favorite movies in the theaters as if it was premiering for the first time. Now I just feel... heavy. Like I’m carrying the weight of the reality I should’ve realized a long time ago. If I was important to him, he would remember our plans.

My frown deepened. That’s what it comes down to, right? If he actually cared about me, he would be here, or at least tell me he’s not going to make it. Constantly forgetting our plans is a huge sign that he doesn’t like me the way I like him, that I don’t matter to him enough to follow through. It’s a sign I’ve been ignoring even though it’s been there the whole time, blaringly obvious and all too painful. 

No. JJ does care about me, even if it’s just as a friend. He’ll be here. He told me he would be.

10:20 PM

Spinning around and looking at the movie theater entrance, I thought about going inside and watching the movie anyway, but I suddenly wasn’t up for it anymore. This sick feeling in my gut was all I could think about. 

Of course JJ doesn’t like me. Why did I get my hopes up so high when all he’s ever done is not show up? It hurts. It feels like something crawled up inside of me and slashed its claws at my dumb, naive heart. Its terrifying and hoarse voice whispering in my ear, “What did you expect?”

Perhaps this is my fault; letting myself fall for someone that doesn’t feel the same. JJ Maybank: one of my closest friends, the biggest player on the whole damn island, and the most emotionally unavailable boy I’ve ever met. Of course I had to fall for him. I’m a fucking idiot. 

I slumped my shoulders, feeling defeated and tired. It’s like I was tossed to the side without a second thought, much like the trash lining the curb. My throat tightened with the emotions threatening to pour out in sobs, but I held them back. It’s not his fault. I’m the one with these stupid feelings, waiting around for him to feel them too, but he doesn’t. 

10:30 PM

I checked my phone one last time, still nothing. With a deep sigh, I started walking towards the direction of my house. I focused my attention on my sandals hitting the sidewalk, each step feeling like another crack in my heart. 

‘You’re fine,’ I told myself. ‘Don’t cry. You’re fine.’

But I wasn’t, and I felt the stubborn tears brim my eyes. I turned the corner and this street was much darker, the street lights dim and far apart. The sound of someone else’s footsteps pricked my ears, and I kept my head down to hide my frustration and the sadness running down my cheeks. I wanted the footsteps to belong to JJ, finally showing up but just a bit late. I knew better though, and didn’t bother looking up. 

“Well, look who it is. A little pougie.” I halted in my tracks, my eyes flicking up to find his cold ones, and I shot him a glare. As if I needed something to make my night even worse. Fucking Rafe.

“Not even gonna say hello?” he asked. I kept my posture stiff and my stare hard, trying to act tough even though I was most certainly in a vulnerable state.

“What are you doing here, Rafe?” Rafe was predictable in the way that he lived to torture me and my friends. That’s the only reason he’d ever be caught dead in The Cut.

He stopped right in front of me, his tall frame dark and intimidating. Even under the blanket of night I could see his eyes were bloodshot and a sickening smirk lined his lips. He ignored my question as his eyes dragged up and down my body, making my stomach twist and skin crawl. “Where’s the rest of your dirty crew?” he spat.

“You’re lucky they’re not here.” I kept my tone steady, but I could feel my hands start to shake and an uneasy feeling settled inside of me. I need to get out of here. 

With hands stuffed in his pockets, he leisurely walked around me, eyes still glued to my bare legs. “You look pretty,” he whispered. “Were you on a date?” 

“No.”

“Then why are you all dressed up, darlin’?” His gaze met mine again when I spun around to face him, and with the way his features slightly softened, he probably noticed that I had been crying. “Oh. You were stood up, huh?”

Is it that obvious? “No,” I snapped. 

He chuckled darkly, stepping even closer to me, and I took a step back. “His loss.” Then he just stood there staring at me while I was lost in a sea of confusion. Is he trying to be nice?

“Well. It’s been not so nice talking to you. I’m going home now.” I turned around to escape this unpleasant conversation, but I was spun back around with the man’s grip on my arm. 

“Don’t leave. I’m not done talking to you.” I felt fear creep under my skin as I looked up at his face again, hardly able to make out anything but his eyes. He wasn’t asking, he was demanding. 

“Leave me alone.” I tried to snatch my arm out of his grasp, but he pushed me into the brick wall of the building we were in front of. 

The sudden movement caused me to stumble and twist my ankle. “Ow! Rafe, what the fuck!” I felt the pain shoot up my leg, but couldn’t focus on it for long. Rafe’s menacing features had panic surging through my veins as he came closer.

I pressed my back into the hard wall trying to separate myself as much as I could from the man towering over me. “You’ve had a rough night. Let me make you feel better,” he said. He stepped into me, his chest pressing against mine as he looked down at me.

“Get the fuck off of me,” I choked out. 

His wicked laugh fanned over my face and I felt angry tears fall. “Come on, little poguie. At least I actually want you.” His words seemed to drive a knife into my chest. JJ doesn’t want me, but I don’t have time to think about that right now. I can hardly think of anything right now. 

My palms rose to his chest, but he caught my wrists in his hands, keeping me from shoving him off. He laughed again, and the realization that Rafe isn’t sober washed over me like a tidal wave. What have I gotten myself into? “Let me go!” I screamed.

He shut me up by forcing his mouth onto mine. I screamed against his lips but he pressed into me harder. I started thrashing my body under the weight of his, but his hold became tighter. He brutally clutched both of my wrists into one of his large hands while the other came up to slap over my mouth, cutting off my cries.

“Just let it happen, darlin. Enjoy it,” he whispered into my ear. Hot tears ran down my face as I felt his lips on my neck. He sucked harshly on my skin as I squirmed, trying desperately to escape, but I couldn’t. Even if I couldn’t, I would die trying.

His mouth attacked my throat while I struggled between him and the wall. With the adrenaline pumping through my body, I used all of my strength and pushed him as hard as I possibly could. With the few inches I created between us, I picked my leg up and stomped my heel into his foot. 

I prepared to bolt with the time I had bought myself, but a second later he was landing a ruthless slap to my face. I registered the burning pain as he pinned me to the wall with his body again. “Oh, now you’re really gonna get it, pogue.” His sudden anger shook me to my core, his sick laugh echoing in my ears like a fire alarm. 

His hand landed on my thigh and dragged along my skin, pushing my dress up higher and higher as I felt the screams get caught in my throat. I dug my nails into his arms but he wasn’t bothered. He kissed me again and I took his bottom lip between my teeth, biting down hard until I tasted blood.

He yanked his head back, face twisting in rage. Even with his violating hands still searing into my skin, I brought my knee up into his crotch, and he yelled in pain. I didn’t waste any time and took off running, but I was yanked back by my hair. 

“Fucking bitch!” My head throbbed as I crashed to the ground, feeling my elbows scrape the pavement. I was seeing stars as I felt Rafe’s weight drop on top of me, his form straddling me. I threw my fists wildly into his stomach and chest, desperately trying anything to escape him, but I knew my efforts were becoming futile. His ring-clad fist connected with my cheekbone and a sob crawled its way up my throat.

“Stop!” I screamed. His hand suddenly grabbed my throat, cutting off my cries once again. I clawed at his skin to get him to stop, but he only increased the pressure on my esophagus until I couldn’t breathe, and I squeezed my eyes shut. My world was spinning and my terror didn’t let me register the pain anymore, only the horrendous realization of what’s happening to me taking over my thoughts. 

After what felt like minutes but was only a few seconds, I felt his breath fan over my face from where he hovered over me. “You’re not fucking worth the trouble.” He released my neck and I felt him get off of me, but I dared not open my eyes. I was too scared of what might happen. It surely became known when I felt a sharp kick to my stomach. I whimpered, then he landed another kick to my side. “Nobody wants you now! Nobody will ever want you! You’re just a dirty little pogue,” he seethed. 

“Fucking bitch,” he spat again, and I heard his heavy footsteps as he stormed off, leaving me on the ground in pieces. 

11:00 PM

I finally sat up, finding the strength to put myself together again, but was pulled into a coughing fit, my throat burning. I wish I could say I was numb, but I was brutally aware of the torment my body has been through, of the emotional trauma I’d have to live with. 

I carefully stood to my feet but folded in half with arms wrapped around my stomach, clutching myself in pain. Everything hurts. I forced myself to straighten, holding back the tears. I felt broken in every way possible, but I willed myself to figure out how to get help.

I picked up my bag that had been tossed to the ground and rummaged through it for my cell phone. With a heavy heart, I called the one person that I needed more than anyone.

But of course, he didn’t answer. More tears were shed, even though it felt like I couldn’t possibly cry anymore. “Answer, goddammit,” I sobbed. I called again. “Please, JJ. Please. I need you.” Again, the call went to voicemail. 

I let out a wail of anguish. Even with nasty bruises already forming on my skin, the loud shatter of my heart is what hurt the most. He’s never here. Even when I need him. 

I didn’t even want to call anyone else. My ankle, my face, my stomach, my throat. Even though I was shaking in pain, I wanted to wallow in my heartbreak alone, so I slowly started walking again, and limped all the way home. 

***

JJ’s P.O.V.

“How was the movie last night?”

I stretched my arms over my head with a yawn, barely registering what John B. asked. “Huh?”

He chuckled and sat next to me on the pullout couch in the living room where I slept. “You got back pretty late last night. I’m guessing you and Y/N had a good time?” Now I’m thinking it’s not just my sleep induced brain that’s making me so confused.

“What do you mean? I wasn’t with Y/N,” I groaned while rubbing my eyes, the sunlight seeping through the windows too bright and annoying.

“What do you mean, dude?” His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes suddenly flashed with anger. “You were supposed to take her to a movie last night.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I grumbled, getting even more annoyed. He doesn’t have a right to be pissed at me, not when I have no idea what he’s even pissed about. It’s too fucking early for this shit. 

John B. stood up with a sharp laugh. “I can’t believe you forgot again, man. Seriously?”

I sat up, my anger matching his now. “You wanna tell me what this is about?” He shook his head before looking at me again, baffled. 

“Y/N? Kill Bill? You guys had a date planned.” 

I glared at him before realization finally hit me. I slapped my hand to my forehead. “Fuck. Was that supposed to be last night?”

He shook his head again. “You’re unbelievable, really.” I sighed. It was an honest mistake. At least I know she’ll forgive me. She always forgives me. 

“I’ll fix it. I’m sure she won’t be mad.” John B. rolled his eyes. “And it wasn’t a date, by the way.”

“Yeah? Did you tell her that?”

“Stop talking in riddles, man. What the hell do you mean? Of course she knows.” He hit me on the back of the head, reminding me of my headache, the dreaded hangover starting to take effect. “Hey! What was that for?”

“She likes you, idiot! No idea why, considering you’re just a dick that doesn’t bother to show up to the plans you guys make.”

“Is this why you’re yelling at me? She doesn’t like me, dude. Not like that,” I rolled my eyes. I could punch him for getting on my case over nothing. Y/N doesn’t like me, and missing plans has never been a big deal. I just want to deal with my hangover in peace.

“You don’t deserve her. And she doesn’t deserve your shit,” he said, walking away into the kitchen. 

“You’re getting mad over nothing. Fuck off,” I grunted, head in my hands. I need coffee and advil. His yelling is making my headache worse.

He sauntered back into the living room, throwing a bottle of painkillers at me, too forcefully if you ask me. “Just tell me, if you weren’t with Y/N, what did you do last night?”

I smirked, remembering the events that took place. “A hot blonde that I met at the boneyard,” my smirk widened. I expected some sort of congratulations from my best friend like usual, but I was met with a scoff and a water bottle being thrown at me.

“You’re a prick. You know that?” 

“And you’re an asshole. What do you want from me?”

“Whatever, dude. Let’s just hope Y/N forgives you this time,” he snapped, walking away and finally leaving me in much needed silence.

“She will!” I yelled after him, hearing his bedroom door slam shut.

I sighed before gulping down the painkillers for my headache. I grabbed my discarded shorts from yesterday on the floor and grabbed my phone out of the pocket. I had forgotten that I put it on Do Not Disturb mode after the hot blonde and I left the party. Girls like it when you give them all of your attention, and aren’t distracted by calls and texts. 

I sighed again when I saw the text’s from Y/N.

9:36 PM: On my way! See you in 20 :)

10:10 PM: Yo are you coming? 

I sure feel like an asshole now. I hoped that she would’ve watched the movie without me anyway, but considering she called me twice at 11:00, she probably didn’t. I feel even worse now that I can see she waited over an hour for me. I typed out a text to her, but I wasn’t sure how to word this apology.

Hey, sorry I missed out last night. Got held up :)

I opted for keeping it nonchalant, not wanting to make this a big deal. I’ll make sure she knows how sorry I am the next time I see her. I’m not worried though. She’s the only one out of the pouges that doesn’t get mad at me when I do stupid shit, and she always forgives me. This time won’t be any different.

I laid back down with my arm covering my eyes, and I thought about what John B. said. Y/N doesn’t like me. She’d be stupid to like a fuck up like me. No, no, we’re just friends, and have been for years. I laughed at the thought. 

John B. was right about one thing, though. I definitely don’t deserve her. She’s way too good for me, especially when I’m not good to her.

***

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I stood in front of the mirror and peered at my naked body in the reflection, tears spilling down my cheeks for what felt like the millionth time. 

My eye was swollen and bruised, a cut on my cheek from Rafe’s ring. Large spots of sickly green and deep violet stained my torso. Dark rings around my wrists from his tight grip. A lighter purple ring wrapped around my neck from where Rafe’s hands had cut off my breathing. 

My hot tears dripped from my face and landed on my collarbone, bringing my attention to the hickeys littering the side of my neck too. I wanted to vomit. I could take the physical assault, but that’s not all this was. He violated me. Kissed me. Sucked on my neck while his hands traveled under my dress. 

Going to the police was a thought that bounced through my mind, but I couldn’t, not yet at least. I was much too unstable. I needed support if I was going to report it, but I still hadn’t told anyone what happened. I spent all of yesterday locked in my room, letting myself wallow in the pain.

JJ had texted me yesterday morning, apologizing for not showing up. A simple text wasn’t enough this time. He texted me again that afternoon.

I’m really sorry, Y/N. I’ll make it up to you. Please don’t be mad at me :(

I wasn’t mad. I was heartbroken, and didn’t bother responding to that text either. If he had shown up, I wouldn’t have been assaulted by Rafe. If he was there, we would have been happily watching my favorite movie, eating snacks and probably laughing at the gore displayed on the screen. If he was there, I wouldn’t have been crying in the dark streets alone, trying to wrap my head around the fact that I could have been raped. That I was almost raped.

The other pogues were trying to get a hold of me yesterday too, inviting me to their plans, but I never responded to anyone. I didn’t want to face them, or anyone for that matter. I didn’t even think I wanted to tell them what happened. It was all too much, and I didn’t want to relive it by telling anyone what Rafe had done to me. Not to mention it would add even more ammunition to the war between us and the kooks. 

I don’t feel any different today, still just wanting to curl up in bed and be alone for probably forever, but I don’t have that luxury today. My mom had left for work this morning before I even woke up, but she sent me a text asking me to run some errands. When I protested, she gave me the whole lecture on how I only ever spend time with the pogues and never help out. I didn’t have a choice. 

With one last glance in the mirror, I wiped the tears off my face and started getting dressed. I had to cover the bruises somehow, but makeup was not going to do the trick. Despite the hot temperature outside, I threw on a large sweatshirt over my sports bra. If I put the hood on, nobody would notice the disgusting marks lining my neck. I found a pair of my mom’s oversized sunglasses and they covered enough of my face to hide the cut on my cheek along with the black eye. I put on shorts and shoes and grabbed my bag before looking in the mirror one last time. Nobody would notice.

***

JJ’s P.O.V.

“Have you guys heard from Y/N?” Pope asked the group. “She hasn’t responded to any of my texts for like two days.” I frowned. At least I wasn’t the only one she was ignoring. I thought that she was probably still mad at me for bailing on our plans, but since she isn’t responding to Pope either, maybe she’s just busy with other things.

“No, I haven’t,” Kie answered. “Pretty weird, right?”

“Yeah, I wonder what’s up.” Pope’s face looked concerned suddenly, and I found my own expression matching his.

“Why don’t you ask JJ here,” John B. said, tone sharp with annoyance. Kie and Pope both whipped their heads towards me, eyebrows raised in question. I just scoffed, turning my attention back to waxing my board.

“What the hell did you do?” Pope asked. His accusing words pissed me off. Who said this was my fault?

“Nothing, okay? I just forgot we had plans, and--” I was cut off by John B.

“No surprise there,” he mumbled under his breath. 

Kiara sighed, her disappointed eyes casting down on me. “Seriously, JJ?”

“What? You guys can’t pin the blame on me! I got distracted, it wasn’t my fault.”

John B. scoffed and I wanted to punch him, much like yesterday morning. “Yeah, what was her name again? The distraction, I mean.” I rolled my eyes. 

“Come on, dude. Not cool,” Pope added with a shake of his head. With all three of them staring at me in dismay, it felt like my friends were attacking me. It’s also like they knew something I didn’t. Why is everything always my fault? 

“Stop turning it into a big deal. I just forgot, okay? I already apologized, so it’s fine.”

“So she forgave you?” JB asked, eyes narrowed like he already knew the answer.

“Well, no...” I let my head drop, looking down at the golden sand with all of our beach gear. “She never responded. But come on, this is Y/N we’re talking about! She never stays mad for long.” The words were meant to get my friends off my back, but I found myself taking comfort in them too. I had never really seen Y/N mad before, but if she actually was mad at me, I hoped she’d let me make it up to her and forgive me. I let myself believe that everything would be fine.

Nobody had anything else to say, only sighing and turning their gazes away from me. I felt the anger sitting in the pit of my stomach, but at least they dropped the subject. I’m more upset that this might actually be my fault. ‘Y/N isn’t the type to get mad easily,’ I reminded myself again. But she’s also not the type to ignore her friends. My mind drifted, wondering if she’s okay. 

“Eat up, boys,” Kie said, taking a stack of sandwiches out of the cooler she brought. We all sat down on our towels and started eating, but I couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N from my mind. Maybe I should text her again.

Hey. We’re all at the beach having lunch if you wanna join us. Even if you don’t, that’s ok. Just let me know you got this. We’re all worried about you. I’m worried about you...

I typed it out, but couldn’t bring myself to send it. If she really is ignoring us, I’m sure it’s for a good reason. Maybe it’s best to just give her space. She’ll reach out when she wants to. Whatever the reason, though, I really hope it’s not because of me. She’s the one person I can always count on to be on my side, and I don’t know what I’d do if I was the cause of her distancing from us.

“Oh, no way. It’s Y/N!” Pope interrupted my thoughts. My head turned to see where he was looking, and sure enough, it was my girl, passing through the boardwalk.

Pope was up on his feet and ran to her, calling over his shoulder that he’ll bring her over to us.

***

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Y/N! Hey!” I stopped in my tracks when I heard my name being shouted, and I noticed Pope running up from behind me.

“Oh, hey Pope,” I said, trying to swallow down my nerves. I didn’t plan on running into my friends here. I didn’t need them finding out about what happened the other night, so I put on a half-hearted smile, trying to act normal, trying to act okay.

“Where the hell have you been?” he asked with a laugh, pulling me into a bear hug. I held back my wince from where he grabbed my sides, the bruises there shooting pain through my body. 

“Oh, ya know,” I gulped. “Just busy with my family.” I was glad that my sunglasses were dark enough so that he couldn’t see my eyes. If he could, he’d know I was lying within seconds. “Sorry I’ve been M.I.A.”

“It’s alright. Come on. We’re having lunch right now.” He grabbed my hand and started pulling me towards the beach, and the other pogues sitting together on the beach came into my focus. 

My eyes widened. “Uh, no, Pope. Sorry, but I have to go.” He stopped and gave me a weird look. “I... I’m running errands for my mom,” I shrugged, hoping he would let me go so that I don’t have to talk to the others, talk to JJ. 

“Just come say hi then. Everyone missed you!” He tugged my hand again, but I didn’t budge from where I planted my feet in the sand. 

“No, Pope. Really, I have to get going.” I didn’t have any other excuses up my sleeve, and I could feel my resolve coming undone. He gave me another weird look, probably wondering what the hell is going on with me. I wanted to tell him. I did, really. But I was not ready to talk about it. I didn’t need him or the others seeing what I looked like under this sweatshirt, or the black eye I was sporting under my glasses. I knew it would only cause more problems, more rage, and I couldn’t handle that right now. If anything, I just needed a hug.

“Is everything okay?” I looked down at my feet and sighed, trying to muster up the strength to lie to one of my best friends. When I looked back up to him, he had sent a look towards the pogues, and they all got up and started making their way over.

“Yes, Pope. I’m fine,” I breathed out a laugh, trying to cover up my panic. “I gotta go, now. Really.” I turned around to run away, but I was too late. The pogues had already crossed the beach and were surrounding me. 

“Y/N! Hey, we missed you!” Kie smiled, pulling me into a hug. Again, I had to hide my grimace from the pain that engulfed me so that my friends couldn’t see. I knew I couldn’t keep up this act for long, and I felt my heart sinking further into my chest.

“Yeah, I’m glad we ran into you,” John B. smiled with a nod in my direction. His expression was soft and kind, and it strangely made me feel like he understood that I wasn’t all the way okay.

“There’s my girl,” JJ’s voice rang through my ears. He looked relieved, and pulled me into his chest, squeezing me tight. This time, I wasn’t able to hold in the small noise that escaped past my lips. When he pulled away, he looked down at me with concern. “You okay?”

I pushed him away. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I couldn’t put on a half-assed smile this time. He’s the one causing my pain. The one that bailed on me. The one that wasn’t there when I needed him, leaving me alone and in broken pieces on that horrible night.

“Why are you wearing a sweatshirt?” Kie laughed. “It’s like one hundred degrees out here.” I just shrugged my shoulders, even though I was dying under the heavy material and the heat of the sun. I looked over my shoulder down the boardwalk, trying to avoid their worried glances, especially JJ’s. I could feel his eyes burning into me, and I couldn’t bear the weight of it for much longer.

“Yeah, what the hell? It’s burning hot out here,” Pope added, and pulled my hood off my head. 

“Pope, don’t,” I said. “I have to go.” I turned away after putting my hood back on and started walking, not even caring that they definitely know something’s wrong now. I just need to get away before I break down.

JJ was the one to catch up to me, leaving the pogues behind us and sharing worried looks. “Y/N, wait.” He grabbed my wrist, and I winced at the contact. “I just wanted to say that I’m so sorry for missing our plans. I got held up with a touron, and you know how it is. She was so hot, how could I not go home with her?” he laughed. Looking up at him, I felt my heart shatter all over again. Of course. He wasn’t with me because he was hooking up with some girl. This fucking hurts more than the punch Rafe landed to my face, and I felt anger swell inside of me.

“Come on, you’re not mad at me, are you?” He smiled, bringing his hands up to cradle my face. He was being his charming self like usual, which is precisely the reason I even fell for him in the first place. But his cute dimples and bright eyes aren’t going to fix anything this time. If anything, they’re just another stab to my chest.

He could sense I wasn’t giving into him. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise,” he pouted. My lips parted to speak, but no words tumbled out. He suddenly ripped my sunglasses from my face.

“JJ, don’t!” His face dropped at the sight of my bruised eye. The glasses fell to the sand when he stepped closer to me, eyes scanning my face. I pushed him back, but he swatted my hands away.

“Y/N?” His features quickly turned from worried to angry. “What the fuck happened?” I felt tears pricking my eyes, but I held them back as I tried to push him away again. He yanked my hood off my head and I knew he was piecing it all together now.

He reached for the bottom of my sweatshirt, and my hands grabbed at his to try and stop him. “Leave me alone,” I yelled, but he didn’t. Despite my attempts to stop him, he had grabbed the bottom of my sweatshirt and started pulling it up over my head. “JJ, stop!” I yelled again, but I couldn’t fight him back anymore because it hurt too much. He had taken it all the way off, leaving me just in my sports bra, my beaten body on full display.

A series of gasps surrounded me as the other pogues gathered around us again, shocked and bewildered expressions on their faces. I watched JJ scan my body. His eyes lingered on the bruises on my belly before flicking to my face again, and then my neck. With the way his eyebrows furrowed and he clenched his jaw, I could tell he was examining the hickeys on my skin. Tears ran freely down my cheeks, and the silence was deafening. 

“Oh, Y/N...” Kie whispered, eyes becoming glossy.

“What the fuck happened?!” JJ burst. His face was twisted in rage as his hands reached for me. I stepped away, but he grabbed my arms. “Who the fuck did this to you?!” I shook my head, trying to swallow the sob that was making its way up my throat. “Y/N, who the fuck was it?!”

“JJ! Lay off!” John B. spoke up. Kie had wrapped her arms around me, wanting to shield me from our angry friend. They could tell JJ wasn’t helping. 

John B. and Pope pulled at JJ’s arms to get him to step back, but he exploded even more. “YN! Tell me who did this to you!” Seeing his reddened face and furious eyes made my own burning anger swim to the surface.

“Stop yelling at her!” Pope told JJ, him and JB still holding the blonde away from me.

“No! I swear to god I’m going to kill ‘em. What the FUCK happened??”

“It wouldn’t have happened if you had bothered to SHOW UP!” I flared, my voice slicing through the chaos among the group. My heated gaze met JJ’s, and his entire face fell at my words, the rage washing away from his pools of blue and replaced with sadness.

Everything seemed to still at my outburst, even my tears. I watched as JJ crumbled beneath the weight of my words. As angry and heartbroken and hurt as I was, I wanted to see him this way. I wanted him to feel guilty. 

“I should’ve known you wouldn’t show up. I should've known you wouldn’t answer when I called you for help. Because you never do.” With every word I spat, I could see the effect they had on him. I kept my ruthless stare fixed on him. “Congrats on fucking some touron, though.” 

Everyone stayed silent as I picked up my sweatshirt and sunglasses from the sand. I glanced at JJ one last time before putting my glasses back on and turning around, leaving everyone behind me without another word. 

***

Read: Stood Up - Part 2

Masterlist

***

[tinylittlestella]

Okay so I’m just gonna post this now I guess. I was waiting until it was more “done” but???

Edit: omg I forgot to credit @yeenybeanies for inspiring me to just throw this idea out to the public instead of hoarding it and waiting for it to be perfect

I’ve been kicking around the idea of a Cinderella story where the prince doesn’t let her leave at midnight. They’ve hung out at a few balls because magic or whatever. Ella is her name, society is a mix of humans and elves. Elves are like maximum 20 inches tall, half elves take after their elf parents like 25% of the time. Bases covered? Cool.

Ella’s heart seized in her chest when she realized that the doors back into the ballroom were locked. She ran quickly for another pair, but they were locked, too. They were all locked. She was trapped out here on the balcony.

“No...” she murmured to herself, glancing back up at the clock tower in the courtyard. She only had a few minutes left until the spell broke; if she couldn’t get away she would be stranded at the palace. Her family would find out that she’d been sneaking away, and if she wasn’t killed for treason for using magic inside the palace surely her stepmother would do it herself, like she’d been threatening to do all Ella’s life. After all, it would be too easy...

“Something wrong, my lady?” came a voice across the cool garden air, and Ella spun around to see that the prince had joined her. How did he get out on the balcony? Had he come out before her?

“Y-yes,” she said, finally letting go of the door handle to turn towards him. “I’ve been out much later than I intended, and I need to go home. Can you open the door?”

For just a moment hope bloomed in her chest when he nodded, but the slow smile that stretched across his face made her heart sink. “I can, but I won’t. You’ve proven far too elusive, my lady. I can’t let you go when I’ve finally got you right where I want you.”

Any words she might’ve been able to muster caught in her throat as she realized his meaning—he’d done this deliberately. He’d trapped her out here to prevent her from running away. She had known that he was getting frustrated at her disappearing, but she never imagined he would take this much interest in her, a nobody who hadn’t even given him her name. She didn’t really think she deserved this much attention.

“I c-can’t stay, your highness, please,” she said, horrified when her voice started to break. But she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t hold in her fear. “There w-will be—t-terrible consequences if I don’t go—“

For a moment the prince seemed equipped to give her a snappy response, but then he looked down at her and he could see the genuine terror in her eyes and it seemed to strike something in him—the teasing disappeared from his face, replaced by concern. He reached out for her and steadied her shoulders.

“Easy, it’s alright,” he said, trying to go for a soothing tone, rubbing at her arms over the sleeves of her dress. “Nothing’s as bad as all that. I can protect you from anything that happens.”

“I d-don’t think you’ll w-want to for long...” she murmured, and he frowned. Her lip trembled and she let out a soft, pained little wail as the clock began to chime, lifting her hands to her mouth. It was over. It was all over.

The prince was still touching her shoulders when it started to happen, when her dress started to glow and magic started to swirl up in the air around her. He had to let her go as it whipped around her body and dissolved all the careful work that had been put into her appearance, taking away her fine hairstyle and makeup, taking away the fine fabric that made up her dress, taking away the human stature she had gained through her fairy godmother’s magic. When the magic was gone and the light had faded, all that was left was Ella, in her true form.

She wrapped her arms around herself, as though that would cover the ragged scrap of a dress her family had given her for daily wear, or the stained apron tied around her waist, or the fact that she wasn’t wearing any shoes. Her ears were just slightly pointed, the freckles on her cheeks caught the light like glitter, and if she stood up straight she would be no more than sixteen inches tall. She was part elf, like her mother had been.

She could only dare to glance up at his face once and immediately regretted it. Those eyes which had once been able to light her on fire from the inside out were now horrified as he looked down at her and she clenched her eyes shut, holding her hand over her mouth as she tried to restrain a sob.

“I’m s-so sorry, your h-highness,” she managed to choke out on a ragged breath. Her chest hitched and she had to pause to catch her breath again. “I n-never wanted you to s-see me l-like this—“

She was covered in a thin layer of soot and grime from the backbreaking work she did to keep her stepmother’s household running and her hair was a mess gathered at the back of her head. She knew how absolutely wretched she looked—a creature like her would never be allowed in the palace like this. Shame burned deep in her gut and she finally just collapsed on herself, falling into a crouch as she tried to make herself as small as possible—as if she weren’t small enough already.

For a long moment there was silence, and then she couldn’t help flinching as she heard him getting closer. He paused when she did, but when she didn’t actually try to run, he started again. He put a hand on her back and it covered her from her shoulders almost down to her hips. His fingers were so warm and she was so damn touch starved that she let out an entirely involuntary noise at the contact—a soft, aching sound from the back of her throat that apparently stirred him into action once more and he moved so quickly she didn’t have any chance to stop him. He scooped her up in his arms, tucking her securely against his chest, and started walking.

Ella didn’t have the courage to ask him where he was taking her, and even if she did she was so stunned by how quickly and securely he had picked her up and held her that she might not have been able to form questions anyways. Mostly her mind was whirring and trying to think of any way she could get out of this situation with her life. She wasn’t coming up with much.

It didn’t help that she was pressed right up against his chest and could hear his heartbeat thrumming through his body, which could have soothed her off to sleep if she weren’t so goddamn frightened. Instead it just clouded her head, made her lose her train of thought, and made her feel like she was about to doze off.

Finally he came to a stop and she realized that he had taken her some hidden way back into the castle. She had never been in this room before, but a quick glance around said that it was...it was most likely his bedroom. Oh, god, what had she gotten herself into?

He walked over to his giant four poster bed and, much more gently than she expected, set her down in the middle. He gave her a look as he took his hands away, trying to communicate without words to ask her not to run when he let her go. She nodded, and he gave her a brief smile that looked exactly like they used to before he walked off to a closet and started pulling out clothing. She watched him warily as she wrapped her arms around her knees where she was sat in the middle of the bed. He still hadn’t said a word about her true form since the spell had broken.

He came back without his jacket or his waistcoat, bootless, and holding a tiny bundle of fabric in his hands. He offered it to her with an unreadable look in his eyes. “Do you want to change into this?” He kept his voice soft and low for her and her breath caught when she realized what he was offering her.

A traditional elvish robe. She hadn’t seen one since she’d had to sell all of her mother’s to help with costs at the manor. It was simple, but clean, and she reached out a trembling hand for it. He allowed her to take it from his fingers and turned around.

“Tell me when you’re done,” he said, and Ella’s eyes widened. Change here? In front of him?

But she didn’t have much choice, did she? She took a deep breath and quickly whipped off the ragged dress and apron to put the robe on over her undergarments. Despite remembering how to tie the waist tape behind her back, it was made difficult by her trembling hands. She finally dared to look him in the face again when she was finished. Only—he was still turned around. She struggled for a moment for what to say before she finally settled on, “I’m done.”

For a moment she thought she said it too quietly for him to hear her, but then he turned around and tossed her old clothes aside and her breath caught once again. It hadn’t truly, fully struck her how much bigger he was than her now, but with him further away so that she could see more of him, the difference was stark. And it wasn’t the prince who had changed. It was just her. She found herself again struggling against tears and ducked her head, unable to meet his eyes. She didn’t know how he could stand to look at her after she lied to him. She didn’t know how he didn’t hate her. Maybe he did. Maybe he was just that kind that even though he couldn’t stand the sight of her he still wanted to make sure she survived the night.

One long, massive digit hooked under her chin and tilted her face back up to meet the princes gaze. His skin was warm and she could feel the strength in his hand just from this one small touch, something that he could barely feel. He leaned down to see her better, making himself look even bigger, and she trembled as his eyes bored into hers, questioning and curious.

“What’s your name?” he asked softly, and she knew that she could no longer evade him.

She took a deep breath and swallowed. “Ella. M-my name is Ella.”

“Ella...” He repeated it softly and she closed her eyes for a moment, pulling back from his hand. The way he said it sounded far too intimate, far too much like something she had desperately been wanting to hear, and it hurt her heart like a stab to the chest. A lump had formed in her throat and it was getting more and more difficult to swallow down. “Where are you from, Ella?”

She flinched as he sat in the bed beside her, but he took extra care not to jostle her, holding a hand out by her side in case she fell from his movements. The level of care was startling and Ella didn’t know how to take it.

“I’m f-from the T-Tremaine estate, y-your highness...” she said, though her voice was strained. She watched warily as he lifted his hand, but he just brushed his fingertip against her cheek. It was so gentle and tender and for a moment—for a moment she thought—maybe, maybe she had been granted the greatest gift she could ever ask for. Perhaps, there was a chance, if he could spare any affection, she would take even the barest scraps he could offer, she didn’t care as long as she could stay by his side and get out of that horrible house—

But then that moment shattered. She realized when his finger came away that he had been brushing away a smudge of soot on her cheek, and that was when she finally broke. Her face crumpled and the sob that had been building in her chest finally released. She lifted her hands to her face with her last shred of dignity, to at least try to muffle herself, but it turned out to not be necessary. Her body was just too small for her humiliation—she couldn’t physically sob as hard as she needed to, so she couldn’t even make a sound. She staggered as she gasped for air and that was when the prince finally decided to intervene.

Enormous hands seemed to appear out of nowhere and curl around Ella’s form. She let out a startled little yelp at the suddenness of it, and the sensation of being lifted off her feet, but it was short lived as in the next moment her head was nestled in the crook of the prince’s neck and he was stroking her back with his fingers while he held her securely in place with his other hand.

“I’ve got you,” he said, and his voice was deep and bassy and inside and outside, filling her head and the air around her. “You’re okay, it’s going to be okay. I’ve got you.”

She was too overwrought to question it anymore, so she just let herself be swept away, burying her face against his neck and crying every tear she had never let herself shed. She clung to his neck with one hand and reached under his collar with the other, almost as though she was trying to work her way under his shirt. He didn’t seem to care, as he hadn’t stopped trying to soothe her.

“Please don’t be frightened of me, darling. I would never hurt you,” he murmured down to her, as he stroked the shape of one of her legs through her robe with his thumb. “You’re okay. I’ll protect you from anyone who tries to harm you. You’re safe with me.”

And she felt like it. Pressed against his neck and chest, with his hands on her back and her legs, she felt so safe. He was so gentle with her that she couldn’t help trusting him, and she was warm and surrounded by his skin and the beat of his heart and his breathing and his scent. He was heady and spicy, with a sweet undercurrent of vanilla. She closed her eyes and turned to nose at his neck, looking for more of that scent. She thought the gesture small enough that he wouldn’t notice but he did stiffen just slightly, and she drew back immediately with a murmured apology.

“No, darling, stop,” he said, and he stroked her hair with one finger to encourage her to lay her head back down. “It’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting you to...trust so quickly. But I’m glad.” He stroked her hair again and she couldn’t help melting under the soft touch. “Ella, what...what happened out on the balcony? You changed.”

Immediately any relaxed feelings disappeared and she stiffened in his hold. She looked up at him, leaning back to see his face, and she could see the curiosity burning in his eyes. After a long moment she quietly began to tell her story.

“It‘s... a long story. It started when I was younger...” She hated how small her voice sounded, but she carried on and told the whole thing. Her mother’s death as a child, the arrival of her stepfamily, her father’s death and her subsequent misery. How the balls and meeting him had been a lovely escape, and she’d never intended to lead him on. She had grown to know and love him, but knew he could never be with someone like her.

The entire time she spoke he kept a hand at her back, supporting her silently through it all, and every now and then he reached up with a finger to brush away a tear or two or to find her tiny little hand. When she got to the end of the story he brushed hair behind her ear with one finger and gave her the softest look.

“I never could have imagined you were going through so much,” he said quietly, and she blinked. That was far from what she’d expected him to say. “You always seemed so—happy. I thought there might be something more, something underneath you didn’t want me to see, but I never...I never thought it was this.”

“I didn’t want to—to hide, or to lie, but I never would have been allowed into the palace otherwise,” she said. “My stepmother would have recognized me instantly, and then I never...” She paused, and her cheeks heated until she was sure he could feel it under his finger. “I never would’ve gotten to meet you.”

[thebadboyfanclub]

What’s Your Biggest Fear? (Carlisle x Reader)

Requested by anon. Sorry I’ve been a bit inconsistent with my writing I had some boy drama (tell me if you want some story time cause i’ll gladly share the tea) in the meantime I hope you enjoy!

It was a well known thing around her friend group that (y/n) did not like thunderstorms, it was loud, it was usually at night and 90% of the horror movies she had watched was about someone being alone in their house during a thunderstorm.

However she was kind of shy to tell Carlisle about her fear, here he was being a powerful supernatural creature that has lived through generations, how could she say she was just a marketing college student scared of thunders? what if he found her weak or made fun of her? he would never make fun of her she knew that much but the “what if’s” never left her mind.

As soon as she saw the weather forecast she had to come up with a plan, which she eventually created to perfection.

“Hey dear, i’m on my break everything all right?”

“Yeah I just wanted to ask you, since there is a thunderstorm coming if you want to come over to my house. We have never gone through a thunderstorm together”

“You are a hopeless romantic, of course I will join you at our thunderstorm festivities. I will come as soon as I finish my shift how does that sound?”

Now you may ask why (y/n) chose her house to get through the thunder. Good question, Edward can read thoughts, Jasper feels other peoples emotions, so one minute in that house and her cover would be blown and as much as she loved Emmett she wanted to be spared of any teasing.

As the hours passed she decided to make some soup while she still had electricity, she set candles to every room of her apartment and and matches or lighters next to them and kept a flashlight in her pocket, so she can be 100% prepared if the light goes out before Carlisle comes back.

As she laid on her bed she recalled the first time she met Carlisle. She had gone in hospital after she fainted, turns out dehydration is really a thing, when she opened her eyes the first thing she saw was a bright light but the first thing she heard was Carlisle’s melodic voice, explaining to your friends who had brought you to the hospital what happened.

Then she saw him, she was so left speechless, she also couldn’t really speak since her throat felt dry and scratchy. She could swear she was in heaven looking at an angel, his blonde hair, bone structure sculpted by God himself, pale porcelain skin, not even a sign of a mark or anything in his face and though perfect lips. 

She didn’t even realizing how foolishly she was smiling and how her eyes had pretty much turned into hearts, but after he left her friends let her know how dumb she looked when he talked to her, teasing her about becoming misses Cullen.

She drifted off to sleep while recalling those sweet sweet memories. The problem was she woke up abruptly by the crack of a lighting, which was deafening especially if you were passed out for a couple of hours, as she jolted up she lost balance and found herself off the bed and on to the floor, face first and the thud she made when coming into contact was maybe as loud as her scream. The room was pitch black and as she kind of regained herself she tried to reach for the light, which come to find out was not willing to shed light in the room

“Wonderful”

As she reached for her pocket, she also found out her flashlight was not there. Panic was starting to kick in, her knee was hurting from the clumsy fall, there was no power and the flashlight had decided to take a stroll around the apartment.

(Y/n) got back up and wobbled over to where she had left the candle and lighter. The lighter however decided to be a pain in the ass and struggle with producing fire

“Come on”

Then it slipped right off her grip and landed to the floor like she had done a few minutes ago. She groaned loudly, she just couldn’t get a break today, everything had to be difficult

“For fucks sake”

She mumbled as she bend down to grab it. She froze when she heard someone or something playing with the lock on the door, an intruder? a murderer? a vampire coming to get her? She had heard the Volturi were very displeased with another human finding out their existence.

“Fuck,shit,fuck,fuck”

She tried to light the candle as fast as she could and again wobbled to the door with the candle on her hand-couldn’t really do much damage but maybe she could light them on fire?- as she approached her door with her hand extended forward she realized how much she was shaking, so much for bravery and confidence.

The door swung open and the first instinct was for her to let out one of the best horror movie worthy scream.

“(Y/n) it’s me, relax darling”

She was about to throw herself into his arm when he stopped her and took the candle from her hand carefully before setting it aside.

“Are you okay sweetheart?”

“No, not really”

“Awww come here”

She felt protected in his embrace, like nobody could harm her. It was nice to feel this way after those annoying little events that had occurred prior to his arrival. As he stroked her hair, he took a quick look around the house, candles everywhere, a flashlight on the floor along with the bed sheets and a frighten (y/n) in the verge of tears.

“If you had told me you were scared I would have come here quicker”

“I wasn’t scared”

She protested. Which the only thing that little back talk did was make him smile in a sweet manner, sometimes he forgot how people can get scared, especially his little (y/n), who has a record of overthinking making herself sick with different scenarios.

“It’s okay to be frightened my love, it makes us human”

“Us?”

“As a matter of fact I got some fears as well”

He let her go for a quick second just so he can shut the door, take off his coat and and scarf and proceed into taking off his shoes. (y/n) now felt completely comfortable staying in the dark, it was like all her fears went out the window when Carlisle came through the door.

“Really? What’s your biggest fear?”

“Losing you”

It was like someone had mistaken her heart strings with a harp, tugging them lightly all together. She hugged him tightly once again, nuzzling her face in his neck at a desperate attempt to get as close to him as humanly possible, it didn’t matter if his cold skin clash with her warmth, she felt complete.

“Now, let’s light some candles and get to bed”

“Can we do anything else why are on the bed?”

“ohhh look who is getting mischievous now, you better behave young lady”

“Or what?”

“You are playing a dangerous game now, you know that”

[djcarnationsblog]

Circus!Ibvs- Edward's Early Morning Practice - Slight Isward

Edward needed to practice first thing in the morning, it was his normal routine.

Sometimes Edward had to wonder why the norm had to be so strict. He didn't dwell on it though, heels clicking as he walked through the circus. Nobody should be up at the time, the sun hadn't even begun to rise, so Edward was all alone. It wasn't like he minded though, who cares if nobody was up, no one but Barry would have even considered being around him anyways.

Edward stifled a small yawn as he treaded casually through the grass, passing tents and empty stands as he went along. Combing through his hair, Edward spared a few glances around the place, as if hoping he'd see something so early in the morning. And of course, there was nothing different, just him, the tents and the outdoors. Not a single soul in sight...

Edward slowed down, staring down at the dew covered ground.

Who was he trying to fool? Of course he wasn't fine with being alone, it hurt. It hurt that nobody wanted to be around him, and he wasn't taking Barry's kindness for granted, not at all. He just wished the other performers wouldn't judge him so harshly. He was the ring master after all, and yet nobody wanted to give him an ounce of respect!

No, Edward knew they would never give him any respect, he simply hadn't earned it yet. But how was he supposed to do that? Nobody would believe what he tried to tell them, saying he was spouting all this bullshit- it was far from bullshit! Edward knows what he's doing, they just won't believe him.

The teen clenched his teeth, hands balling into fists as he stomped off hastily, not wanting to dwell on it anymore. He didn't want to think about it, less he get even more riled up then he was already. Edward let out a growled breathe as he ran a hand through his hair, gripping and pulling at it for a moment before smoothing it back out. It took a bit of walking to arrive at his tent, the exterior colored in blue and red with a few yellow accents.

He took a moment to stare it down, foot tapping against the ground as he narrowed his eyes. Stepping onto the concrete, he walked over and pushed the curtain aside, strolling inside. It was rather dark in the enormous tent, but Edward easily maneuvered through the inky black, knowing where the light was. A few steps later and he came across the light button, letting out a tiny huff as he pressed it.

The lights came on instantly, the ringmaster squinting his eyes a bit from the sudden brightness, scowling as he did so. Once his eyes had adjusted, Edward walked over to the control panel, turning it on as his eyes wandered to the netted hoop hanging from the middle of the tent. Whirling sounds started up as contraption shook a bit, jostling the hoop as it was brought down.

Now he just had to select the song he'd been practicing with since last week. His next performance was to happen by Monday at twelve o' clock and end by four two weeks later, but he'd gotten atleast most of it down already, he just had to get the end sequence right and he'd be all set to just go through the motions. He'd practice the expressions afterwards.

Edward stopped for a moment, cursing under his breathe as he left the podium where the control panel was. He'd forgotten to set up the safety net, God knows what could happen if he forgot, there was no way he was asking Drew to heal him. Finding his way to the supply closet, Edward fished for the key on the top of the door frame, quickly slotting it into the lock and unlocking it.

Placing the key back were it was, Edward opened the supply closet and wandered inside, flicking on the light and looking around. It took a bit of digging through various hoops, whips and other equipment before he found it, pulling it out and holding the bundle under his arm as he turned on his heel, walking back out. as he made his way to the one side, Edward uncurled the net and began to flap it out, going over to one of the metallic rods placed in the ground.

Finding the corner of the safety net, Edward hooked one of the holes on the rod, repeating that a few more times before he backed away. Thankfully there was a smaller platform on the rod to ensure that the net didn't slide down it, so he didn't have to worry about that.

It didn't take much effort to finish securing the the net, hopping up onto it for a test run. He looked down at the net, noticing how his heels didn't fall through the stretchable holes. He found it pretty funny how lucky he was when wearing heels, he had yet for them to fall through any holes. Edward let out a small snicker, casually making his way to the other side of the net, passing his hoop with an unvolentary bounce in his step from the bouncy net. It worked a bit like a trampoline, which was another thing that amused Edward.

When he got back to the panel, Edward tapped his foot against the podium, searching on the recorded history of it for the song he had used. Thankfully it was somewhere near the top, so he didn't have to scroll through the millions of songs he had performed with before.

Quickly taking a glove from the panel, he pulled on, glancing down at the button on the back of it before going back and selected the song he found, high-tailing it to the hoop as the machine started up. Edward made a mad jump as the hoop rose, latching onto the bottom and pulling himself up to the top of it, balancing on it easily as it swung a bit from the force. Once it stopped swinging, Edward positioned himself just like before, waiting with anticipation for the music to begin.

'Lean On by Major Lazer, Featuring DJ Snake.' Spoke the robotic voice from the panel.

The beat began as the hoop swung, Edward following his routine as the music really started up. His mind got lost in the excitement, swinging through the air as he'd spine and dance on the hoop, his body flying through the motions effortlessly. He'd flip from the top to bottom, twisting and turning as he'd hang by even a single heel. Edward couldn't help but smile, even as he'd fly and swing so dangerously high, the adrenaline was exilerating and it was something he loved.

As he neared the end, he had to remind himself which part he had failed to get down, swift hands pulling himself down to the bottom of the hoop as he threw his lower half up, twisting his heel into the net of it. Edward took a deep breathe as he began going through the motion, letting his body swing over like all the other times he tried.

And just like all the other times, his heel came loose from the net. Just like before, Edward was sent hurtling for the safety net with terrifyingly fast momentum. And just like before, he let out a loud curse of surprise when he impacted it, bouncing for a moment as the music continued.

Giving a deadpan, Edward pressed the button on the glove with a huff of annoyance, the song stopping abruptly as the hoop came swinging down, Edward standing as he grabbed onto it.

'Repeat.' that same voice called out.

And so, Edward began the same shit. Going through the motion, flying through the sequence up to that same part. And he failed every single time, fall after fall, yet he'd start again and again, growing more determined by the fail. He had to have gone through the routine more then twenty times, not a single break being taken between each. He wasn't stopping until he got it down, Edward absolutely had to be ready for the next performance, he couldn't miss it. Not this time.

Minutes turned to hours, yet time never was revelant to Edward. At some point, Edward had tried changing his heels, from three inch to four, then four to five, five to six all the way up to his ten inch. Nothing seemed to help hook the heel to the net, and Edward became frustrated the more he tried. Different techniques to tie the net to his heel, Edward going through even his most complicated ones to help stay on the hoop.

And then he got stuck.

It wasn't intentional, maybe it was his karma for trying to tie the heel to the net too fast, but he got stuck either way. So close to his goal, but now he was just hanging there, eye twitching as he grit his teeth.

"DAMNIT!!" He shouted out, twisting his upper body to grab onto the hoop, grumbling under his breathe as he fiddled with the knot. One of the things he hated about tying it like this had to be the fact that he could barely ever remember how to undo it, which in turn only made his blood boil.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." He growled lowly, hands becoming more jerky by every failed attempt. Should he call for help? Maybe Barry was around somewhere, some people should be up by now right? No, he didn't want to risk someone other than Barry coming to find out who the fuck was screaming so loud at a time like this, only to see their very own ringmaster caught in a net by the heel of his shoe.

He couldn't even take off his heel, the thing was belted securely to his leg with the aesthetic (that Edward will die with) of a lock on it that Edward locked for extra security. The key was on the panel.

Edward let out a frustrated huff as his body went limp, just casually swinging upside down as he tried to assess what he'd do now. How was he supposed to get Barry? He left his phone at his tent so he couldn't call, and even then he wouldn't have been able to reach it cause there was no way in fuckery he was gonna practice with his phone in his damn pocket. That thing would have been sent flying by the very first spin. So what was he supposed to do?

"This was not what I thought I'd see."

Edward jolted when he heard a familar voice, scowling as he looked over to the entrance to see a certain fire dancer at the tent opening. Why did it have to Beamer? Why in the name of everything did it have to be Beamer?

"Why are you here?" Edward muttered as Isaac strutted inside the tent, examining his situation with an indifferent expression. "I heard you shout. Didn't expect to see you like this though." He simply replied, arms crossed as Edward let out a gruff sigh. "Jesus Christ." Edward spoke, already feeling the blood rush to his head.

"Jesus Christ indeed." Isaac echoed as he went over to the control panel, Edward raising an eyebrow as he did so. "And what are you doing, Beamer?" He asked. "Getting you down, what's it look like?" He replied, looking over the panel for a moment as Edward scoffed.

"I'm surprised that you even have the decency to help somebody." He said as Isaac pressed a few buttons. "Well, I coooould just toss you around like a ragdoll..." Isaac trailed as Edward gave him a stern glare. "Don't you try it, Beamer." Edward spoke in a warning tone, much to isaac's unaffected attitude. "And what are you gonna do huh Error? Beat me to a pulp?" Isaac said as he leaned against the panel.

"You can't even touch me right now." Edward hated how right Isaac was, growling as his eye twitched. "I hope you get raped by an ostrich." He spoke, a deadpanned tone of anger laced heavily in every word. "And I hope you get mawled by a hippo, but that's just wishful thinking." Isaac rolled his eyes as he went back to messing with the panel. "Be careful with that Beamer, you don't even know how to use it." Edward spoke, hoping to all God Isaac didn't end up busting the damn thing.

"Oh? Well why don't ya tell me, all mighty 'ring leader'?" Isaac mocked as he looked it over again, trying to figure out how it worked. "Oh when I get the FUCK down there Beamer, your baby-making days will be over before they even begin!" The Ringmaster yelled out, to Isaac's offense.

"Wow okay, maybe I won't let you down." The fire dancer huffed as he got off the podium, Edward's face going white as a sheet at the realization. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he shouldn't have said that, fuck Beamer, fuck his anger issues, fuck life right now!

"Oh my God- FINE!! What do you want me to do!?" Edward shouted, his head beginning to feel a bit dizzy from the blood as Isaac turned around, a smug look on his face. "Don't be an asshole for a whole week, and give me a hundred bucks." He immediately said, stalking right back up to the podium as Edward inhaled slowly.

"Fine." He muttered loud enough for the other to hear. "Red button to the far left of the panel on the first row, third row green button at the far right, white button on the second row in the dead center, then hit the black button at the far right in the bottom corner."

Isaac followed those instructions to a T, the contraption jerking for a moment before the hoop began to lower down, much to Edward's relief as he touched down on the net. The blood finally escaped his head as he sat up, Isaac walking over as he began to attempt untying his heel from the net. Isaac hopped onto the net, casually strutting over and plopping down in front of Edward.

"Let me see that." He huffed, batting Edward's hand away (much to the other's annoyance) as he took to getting rid of the knot. They sat in awkward silence for a while until Isaac was able to get it off, Edward looking away with a small huff of embarrassment.

"I..." He trailed off, looking between Isaac and the net as Isaac rose a brow. "...Thank you." He grumbled, ears hot and cheeks flushed as he moved away, standing up walk back to the panel. "Wait, what?" Edward deadpanned and turned to look at a very confused and amused Isaac.

"We made a deal, Beamer. I don't break deals." He responded, turning his head away and getting off the net as he went over to the panel, grabbing the key as he sighed in defeat, ears still tinted a fresh red blush, completely unaware of the beetred dancer behind

"I'll go get my wallet."

******************** ******************** ********************

I say it now with confidence, Isaac has a thing for Edward in High heels, don't try and change my mind XP

[farfromsugafanfic]

Sutures - Chapter One: Broken Hearts Club

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter specific): alcohol consumption, sexual references, references to a one night stand, cursing, hospitals

Synopsis: "A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it." --Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

Notes: This was originally written and completed on Wattpad between 2018 and the beginning of 2020. I’ll be slowly posting the chapters here. I may make a tag list depending on if enough people want to follow along with updates. Leave me some feedback if you would like added to a tag list.

Series Masterlist | Next

Min Yoongi was done with relationships. It seemed they were always after money or fame, or they couldn't deal with his schedule and began to look elsewhere. 

At first, he thought since Jihee was an idol, she wasn't after his money or fame. That she understood how the life left little time for a relationship. It was the first relationship he'd ever gone public with; his fans reacting surprisingly well. Dating another idol made it easier, she wasn't subject to more attention that she was not already used to. 

But the one downside to dating an idol was that when they cheated on you, there was photographic evidence. He gave her the benefit of the doubt; it was probably a cousin or an old friend. However, then he came into her apartment earlier that night after dance practice. The true nature of the relationship was revealed. 

"Yoongi!" Jihee called. "I'm sorry! I don't expect you to take me back. Just please, keep this quiet." 

Her image mattered more to her than his heart. Just like everyone else. 

---

Yoongi drank the rest of the glass, the burning in his throat he'd felt at the beginning of the night subsiding. The bar was one far away from the dorm, almost on the outskirts of the city. A place nobody would think to find him. It was busier than when he'd first come in, but still nothing like the bars and clubs downtown. 

Music started up and he cringed as one of his own songs came through the speakers and reverberated off the walls. Min Yoongi couldn't escape himself even if he wanted to. 

Nobody seemed to be eyeing him or trying to capture his attention by requesting the song. In fact, no one seemed to be paying any attention to him at all. A small solace. 

Most of the other patrons danced. The majority offbeat and already off their face from soju or whatever their drug of choice. He noticed a girl sitting at the corner of the bar--she seemed uncomfortable--trying her best to pull down the short black dress she wore. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, ending just below her chest. She wasn't drinking anything, hooking her heels into the barstool, and watching the dancers.

Yoongi felt a small pull in his chest. He wasn't sure if it was from the heartbreak or from the way the black dress hugged her curves. Honestly, Yoongi didn't care. 

"Another," Yoongi said, motioning to the bartender.

---

"Sumi!" your friend said, rushing over to the edge of the bar where you had perched. "Come dance! You're never going to get over him if you don't let yourself go." 

"I don't want to get over him, Eunji," you said. "I want to get back together."

"No," Eunji said, her forehead wrinkling, a sign she was serious. "I'm not letting you get back together with that deadbeat. He was holding you back and you've taken him back too many times." 

You sighed, unhooking your heels from the rung of the barstool. Your best friend had a point. You'd given Minki--your ex--hundreds of chances. The first time he cheated on you, you'd believed him when he said that it was a mistake and it would never happen again. And it didn't, for another year. The second time, you swore you'd never take him back. But a month later, you did. 

"Come on, let's go show him what he's missing," Eunji said, grabbing hold of your hands. 

"He's not here." 

Eunji scoffed and pulled you up. You stepped out of your heels and stood on the ground with just the thin material of your tights between your skin and the sticky ground. 

"You know what I mean! Now, come on!" 

She pulled you onto the floor and to your surprise you actually enjoyed yourself. You'd forgotten what it was like to simply dance like no one was watching. You didn't care that your dress was slipping up again, or that you'd worn holes in your tights on the bottom of your feet. 

Eventually, Eunji brought you a drink. You assumed it was water, but as you drank, the liquid burned your throat and you nearly spit it back out. 

"Eunji!" you exclaimed after swallowing. "Vodka? Really?"

"It used to be your favorite," she said. 

"Yeah, not when I'm expecting it to be water." 

You laughed slightly, throwing it back. 

"Water won't help you forget Minki." 

"This is why my parents thought you were a bad influence, you know?" 

Eunji laughed, ordering herself a drink. 

"Yeah, well, I don't think their judgment was the best."

You laughed. 

"Thanks," you said, squeezing your friend's hand. "I really needed this."

---

"You know what else you need?" your friend asked about twenty minutes later. Her words beginning to slur, her lipstick smearing. "A good f---." 

You covered her mouth before she could finish the word. Your eyes were wide and you were sure you were blushing. You, too, were starting to feel a bit tipsy. But, unlike your friend, you got tired when you drank. 

"I'm going to get another drink," you said, wanting to escape the smirk that had broken out across your friend's face. 

You walked backward for a couple steps, despite the fact you weren't drunk yet, you stumbled and fell backward. You landed straight into the lap of a stranger, who luckily caught you, his arm around your back. 

You felt yourself blush as his dark eyes made contact with yours. His white hair partially covered them, but you could still feel his glazed gaze boring into you.

"A drink?" he asked. "All you had to do was ask." 

A smirk broke out across his face, not unlike Eunji who winked at you from a couple of barstools away. 

---

Eunji (11:01 pm): I think he's an idol.

You looked across the bar at your friend who had ordered some food to sober up. 

You (11:01 pm): I don't think so. He doesn't seem like an idol.

Eunji (11:02 pm): Who else would dye their hair white?

You (11:03 pm): I don't know. Does it matter?

Eunji (11:04 pm): Only if you care that you're about to hook up with an idol. 

You rolled your eyes and turned your phone to silent. 

---

You stifled a moan as he kissed your neck and you fiddled with your keys, trying to unlock your front door. You eventually managed to turn the key into the lock and the two of you practically fell inside your apartment. 

"What about Eunji?" you asked, as he closed the door and pushed you against it. 

"The bartender's going to take her home," he answered. "Don't worry."

He kissed your lips this time, effectively shutting you up and smearing your lipstick on his own lips. His hands roamed up and down the fabric of your dress. But, he was patient, he didn't just rip the fabric off you like Minki would've. 

"Only tonight," you said, your voice breathy. 

"Only tonight," he repeated. 

The promise you'd made each other before you'd left the bar. Neither of you wanted a relationship, rather proof that you could still be loved. 

His lips roamed back down to your neck, it seemed to be his favorite spot. Somehow you managed to collapse onto the couch, wrapping your legs around his waist. You dug your heels into his hips and laughed. 

"What?" he asked, smirking against your collarbone. 

"I forgot my shoes at the bar."

He pulled his lips away from your skin. His hand reached up and moved your hair off your shoulders and out of your face. 

"Good, means I won't have to take them off." 

---

Yoongi woke up the next morning. He glanced over at your sleeping form. He smiled and reached to move the hair from your face, but his fingers stopped midway, remembering the promise you'd made each other the night before. Only tonight.

He got up and collected his clothes. His phone was still in the pocket of his jeans, nearly dead. He slipped on his jeans and glanced down at his phone. 

"Shit," he mumbled, seeing the multiple text messages from his band members asking where he was and telling him he was late for practice. He shot a quick text to Namjoon explaining that he was on his way. 

Yoongi quietly walked out of the bedroom and closed the front door, trying not to wake you up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black mask that he kept on him in case he needed to walk in public without too much notice.

He slipped into the crowd. He placed his hands in his pockets and looked around, hoping to eventually catch a taxi. But, just in case someone had followed him, he wanted to get as far from your apartment as possible before he hailed a taxi.

The heartbreak from the day before seemed to have dulled inside him. It was still there--it probably always would be--but it wasn't ruling his thoughts anymore. He smiled as he thought back to the night before, seeing you dance so well, even though you had been reluctant to. When he'd originally spotted you across the bar, he decided to ignore you, but when you landed in his lap; a little tipsy, your hair just the right amount of messy, and your bare feet swinging just above the ground, he couldn't resist you.

With each block, Yoongi felt an odd sensation in his chest. It wasn't heartbreak, it was something else. Something he couldn't describe and something he'd never felt before. It didn't hurt at first, but after a couple more blocks, he stopped, clutching at his chest. 

He breathed heavily, his thoughts racing, trying to find some sort of explanation. He managed a few more labored steps before collapsing on the sidewalk.

---

Yoongi opened his eyes. He looked down at the IV in his arm and glanced over at Taehyung who sat beside his hospital bed. 

"Yoongi! You're awake!" the boy said. 

Taehyung immediately stood up and yelled out into the hallway. Yoongi could hear the rushing of his band members as they barreled down the hallway towards his room. 

"What happened?" Yoongi asked, as soon as they were in the room. "I just remember walking and then my chest hurt."

"You collapsed," Namjoon said. "They brought you here in an ambulance. The doctor told us it wasn't a heart attack, but said he didn't want to explain anything until you were awake." 

The boys fell silent as the doctor and Bang PD walked into the room. BTS scrambled to the far side of the room, allowing the doctor to examine Yoongi. 

"It would appear," the doctor started. "You are very lucky man. Not many people find their soulmate in this world." 

"What?" Yoongi and the members said at once. 

"When someone meets their soulmate, choosing to leave them behind can be deadly for both parties. The only reason you aren't experiencing pain right now is because you don't have a choice in where you are." 

"Wait, so how am I supposed to live my life then?" Yoongi asked. 

"It's complicated," the doctor answered. "There shouldn't be a reaction for anything work-related for either of you. However, you will have to remain in close proximity to each other in your free time. That's not to say you will have to spend every waking moment together, but..."

"We need to know who this girl is, Yoongi," Bang PD continued. "If you want your career and your life to continue, we have to find her." 

---

"So, you're saying the guy I met last night? He's my soulmate?" you asked, once the doctor had explained everything. 

"Most likely," the doctor said. "It is extremely important we find out for sure, though. It is a matter of life and death." 

You took a deep breath, allowing the weight of everything to fall on your shoulders. It was supposed to be a one night stand. Only tonight.

You weren't supposed to discover your supposed soulmate. What would that even mean? You hardly knew the guy! How did your body somehow know he was the one? 

Eunji was sitting in the corner. You could tell she still had a headache from the night before, but when you'd called her in a panic, she'd still managed to rush over to your apartment and find you passed out, eggs black and burnt on the stove.

"I don't even know his name," you said, looking down. "I--I don't know how we'll find him." 

"Well," the doctor said. "There's only one other person in the city who has been admitted for finding their soulmate today..." The doctor trailed off and pointed up at the TV where a news report was talking about how a famous idol had met his soulmate, but that they needed to find her. 

Eunji looked at you, her eyes wide, the news sobering her up immediately. She reached out for your hand. 

"Fuck," she said, "you're Min Yoongi's soulmate."

[theunquenchablethirst]

Home Pt1: The Orphanage (Jeremiah X Reader)

First multi-chapter fic I’ve ever written, so critics please be gentle, but feedback is much appreciated. This chapter is just about introducing the reader to the story, but I do have more chapters ready to go out. Lemme know if you want them ☺️

Slow burn and mentions of childhood trauma/abuse

Find Pt.2 here

Reader is an orphan about to turn 18 when a wealthy man visits the orphanage looking for an older girl. She is put up as a possible option and she isn’t happy about it.

Masterlist

Growing up in the orphanage was horrible. They treated us all like workhorses from the moment we arrived. They would demand so much from us from such an early age and when we couldn’t do it, we would get beaten or starved or have to spend the night in the basement with the rats. If not all three. And then they wondered why we didn’t have the strength for all the hard labour they forced upon us.

They didn’t care about us one bit. They used to send us to clean rich people's houses to make money off us. I remember one girl got sent out and came back covered in bruises. She tried to tell them she didn’t want to go back, that the guy was a creep and he touched her. They still sent her and one day she just disappeared. We all knew what happened, but we didn’t dare say anything. We were the weak ones and in Gotham, nobody cares about the weak ones.

I remember praying every night for some nice couple to come and save me. Adopt me. But year after year passed and I learned to abandon those dreams. I’d read in the paper about some guy called Jerome Valeska. He’d murdered his mom. I also saw him when I’d been sent out on maid duty, on a client's TV when they were watching the news. He seemed unhinged, like a rabid dog, talking into the camera about sanity and how we were all just prisoners and cogs. He said was the leader of a gang called the Maniax. We’d all heard of them at the orphanage and what they’d done. I decided if that was what family could do to you, then maybe it wasn’t for me. It wasn’t like anyone was coming for me anyway.

Instead, I focused on counting the days to my 18th birthday. They kicked you out once you turned 18, but it was a time everyone in the orphanage looked forward to. I remember how excited I was when the time crawled ever closer. It was just a few weeks, but time seemed to slow down as they were passing. It was painful.

I had everything I was going to do planned out in my head. First, I was going to punch the head master square in the nose and tell him just how much I hated him. Then I was going to walk my ass straight to the GCPD and let them know everything. It was my chance get that place shut down forever. To help the other kids and get them sent somewhere decent. I would be stood out front watching the day it closed. Watching with the biggest, tooth baring smile on my face.

I still hate that I never got the chance.

My 18th was a few weeks away and I could taste my freedom. Everyone was hyping me up for it and some of the younger ones were telling me how much they were going to miss me and trying to spend as much time with me as they could. There were a few sour apples because they were jealous, but I understood and I would squeeze them all so tightly before I left.  

“Stop daydreaming and get back to the floor!” A harsh voice came and I was brought back to reality with a smack to the back of my head.

It was the head master's assistant, Mr Grimes. A name that suited him well. He was stalking the halls again, looking for the daydreamers like me so he could tear them down. I was supposed to be scrubbing the wooden floorboards, but I let my mind run away with me for a minute. I should’ve known better by then.

He got halfway down the hallway, trapsing dirt over where I’d just cleaned, when he stopped in his tracks and turned back to me.

“You’re up tomorrow, by the way.” He said, in that matter-of-fact tone that made everyone despise him that extra bit more.

“What?” I must’ve heard him wrong.

“You’re up. Some rich guy’s coming in looking for an older girl. That means you.”

“I can’t be. I’m getting out next month.”

“It’s right here in black and white. And you know I don’t make mistakes.” He gestured to the folder under his arm that had the details for tomorrow in it and apparently my name was listed inside.

I stopped to let the wheels in my head turn and try and figure this out. Being up meant that you were going to be presented for possible adoption. I couldn’t be... could I? Not now I was this close? Mr Grimes turned to leave, but turned back once more.

“By the way, says here this guy's 26. So, he’s probably not looking for a daughter. And if he’s coming here instead of some maid agency... Well, I'll let you think about that.”  

Mr Grimes smiled one of the slimiest smiles I’d ever seen before walking away. I knew what he meant and I also knew that nobody here cared. I threw the scrubbing brush into the bucket of soapy water, causing a splash. I was so angry. Angry that my plans could be potentially ruined, that I could be adopted by some rich guy with nefarious intentions, angry that they would let that happen to any of the girls here.

I allowed a few tears to escape my eyes, but quickly told myself off for it. I had promised myself I wouldn’t cry for this place any longer years ago. It felt like giving it power or losing to it and I was not going to give this dump the satisfaction. I didn’t sleep at all that night. Knowing what tomorrow was going to bring sat on my shoulders like two boulders. I was either going to see one of my sisters be taken away to god knows what, or be taken myself. I hadn’t told anybody about it. I didn’t want anybody else feeling this dread.  

Morning came. The wakeup call was 7am sharp. Everyone stirred and groaned, but they knew they’d regret it if they didn’t get up with the bell. Now began the battle for the showers. First come, first serve for the hot water. If you were too slow you had to shower in water like ice. However, I wasn’t in the mood to battle it out for hot water. I would feel terrible if I got some and the girl that got adopted today didn’t, so I let them all have war without me. I was used to the cold water anyway.

Downstairs at breakfast I couldn’t eat. I felt like I had a pit in my stomach and if I ate anything I would just throw it back up. The food was disgusting anyway.  I sat there with a glass of water deep in thought until a bell rang that caught all of our attention. The only time that bell rang was when the head master was going to be joining us for breakfast, which was rare. But in he came and sat at the front in front of all of us, Mr Grimes standing at his side like a loyal dog. I knew why he was here. He was going to break the news.

“Good morning children.” He said in his dull, boring voice, looking over the room as if scanning it.

“Good morning, head master.” Everyone replied in unison. We knew the drill.

“I have an exciting announcement.”

Everyone was gripped. You could’ve heard a pin drop.

“Now, this does only concern the girls. Boys, perhaps next time.”

A few whispers could be heard as everyone looked around at each other.  

“There will be a man coming in later. A wealthy man. He is going to take one of you home.”

Smiles could be seen on my sisters faces and they continued to whisper to each other curiously.

“Unfortunately, not all of you are candidates. Mr Grimes has a list of everyone that is going to be presented. When he calls your name, you are to go back upstairs and change into your display clothes. We must make a good impression if we are to find homes, girls.”

Mr Grimes opened the folder he had with him yesterday and pulled out a piece of paper. All of my sisters were on the edges of their seats, biting their lips, fingers crossed. All of them hoping today could be the day. I was hoping for the exact opposite.

“Shelby... Lisa... Mary... Joanne... Bethany.... And...” Then he called my name. The girls smiles reached ear to ear and they giggled to themselves as they stood up. We were all the oldest girls, 17 or few months away.  

“Congratulations, girls. Today could be the start of a new life... for one of you.” The headmaster also rose from his seat and he left the room leaving Mr Grimes to finish.

“You girls, upstairs and make yourselves look half human. The rest of you, better luck next time.”

Back in our dorm all the girls were laughing and smiling. They were all so happy, getting their presentation clothes ready. They were all the same. The outfit we had to wear if we were up. A black skirt that reached just below the knees with a black, quarter sleeve shirt with a white collar. Our only pair of good, clean white socks and black plimsoles. We were all identical in these outfits, except for different things we would do with our hair. Some would do braids, some pony tails or buns. The lucky ones managed to scrounge up some cute clips and bows. It was all very exciting for everyone. Everyone, but me.

“I can’t believe it! One of us is getting out of this soggy shack!” Laughed Shelby.

“I know! I knew keeping that lucky penny was worth it!”  Mary giggled as she pulled a penny out of her shoe and kissed it.

“Whoever it is that goes, we’ll still always be sisters, right?” Joanne piped up. She had always had a nervous disposition.  

The girls all stopped. They were so giddy with the news that they forgot today was also goodbye for one of us. The sudden sadness in the air was palpable. I could see tears start to gather in their eyes and my heart broke.

“Stop it. Stop it all of you. No matter what happens today, we will all always be sisters. We’ve been through so much together that even if we are scattered to all corners of the globe, we’ll still all be sisters. Nothing can change that. Ever.” I forced, half scolding them. We huddled together and began saying how much we loved each other, going over memories we had. We stayed like that until the bell rang, letting us know we only had a little time left before the line-up.

We stood lined up by the front door. I’d never liked this bit. It felt like we were on display in a shop window. Like we were on sale.

“Is this the best you could do? I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t just walk away.” Mr Grimes scoffed as he looked us up and down. He was the one who was going to be introducing us. The head master stayed in his office, he only dealt with the paperwork of it.

“And don’t say anything, unless he talks to you. Nobody buys a cow for its personality.”  

We heard a car pull up outside and the nerves kicked in.

“Sounds like he’s here. Stand up straight, girls. Somebody’s life’s about to change.”

Then there it was. The sound I’d been dreading since yesterday afternoon.

Knock, knock, knock...

“Let the sale commence.”

[yourmcu]

Forgotten [DISCONTINUED]

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Peter Parker x Stark!reader (platonic)

Request: 

Hello i love your story could you do angsty tony x daughter reader. Wherein the reader has a twin brother and Tony and the avengers prefer the twin brother and becaus of that, the reader became rebel and badass. She always getting trouble and almost drop out student. The avengers and her father were seem disappointed and dont know what to do. Not until the reader involve into car accident and she's critical injured. The reader also slipped to coma. Everyone is devastated about the reader conditione. And they realized that the reader only rebel because she wants to get attention from them. It depends to you what the end come, I just want a full angst this week and I hope you dont mind my English. Anyway I hope your alright.

Word count: 1,627

A/n: (to anon: I’d like to apologize for not finishing this) I don’t think I have any intention to anymore tbh so- I’m just posting this for fun now lmaolmao

hella big update: the continued version is here!

Warnings: bad angst and writing hee hee. no I’m serious this is bad

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

Being a genius/billionaire/superhero’s kid doesn’t always sound nice like it usually does.

You were one of the Stark twins, the other half being your brother, Ethan.

The both of you showed signs that you inherited the commonly known Stark trait (intelligence) at a young age. But Tony mostly focused on his son, showing him all his inventions and gadgets, teaching him everything he knew while you on the other hand, were being babysat by Happy or Pepper, sometimes Rhodey.

You tried so hard to get your father’s attention but he always had his excuses:

“I don’t have time for that.”

“I’m busy with Ethan right now.”

“Maybe later.”

At first you didn’t mind if your brother got all the praise and attention. It wasn’t until your mid-teens that you really started to feel left out and ignored.

You were left to frown when the other Avengers never found anything interesting about you, just like Tony did. They all liked Ethan better. The topic of him being the next Iron Man when Tony retires is getting exhausting.

There was this one time when Tony announced that they were all going out to dinner since Ethan got, yet again, a full set of A’s on his report card.

“Did you get my card?” You tapped on Tony’s shoulder lightly.

He gave you a side glance, “ah shoot, I forgot. I’ll go get it tomorrow.” Then returned his attention to your brother.

But he ended up forgetting again the next day and you had to convince your teacher to give it to you instead. Your marks had A’s, but littered with B’s as well, of course that was no match for your brother’s perfect marks.

And that sort of scenario wasn’t just a one time thing, Tony forgets to pick up your report card every. single. time. The messed up part was you and Ethan literally attended the same school, he was just in a more advanced class than you.

As time passed, Tony went from ignoring you to getting annoyed and pissed at you for everything you did. In his eyes, you were always in the wrong. And the reason? You didn’t know.

“Dad? Can I borrow Bruce for a minute?” You knocked on the glass door of his lab to get him to look up.

He didn’t, but responded, “kinda busy with him right now.”

You looked at your fractured arm, regretting your decisions. “W-well, Ethan was training with Nat, and... and he wanted to try the new moves he learned on me. He went a little hard and - I think my arm’s broken, I just wanted Bruce to check it out-”

“Goddammit!” He shouted after you heard a glass shatter. Bruce covered his face with palms, muttering an ‘oh no’.

Tony glared at you, striding to where you were standing. All that was left for you to do was to brace yourself for what was about to come. “See, this is why we never let you do anything with the team,” he spat. “That right there?”-he pointed to your arm-“that’s on you. Things go wrong because you’re in the way!”

“I’m... I’m sorry-”

“Just get out of here.”

Your arm remained untreated after that.

Then Peter Parker came into the picture. Friendly guy, he was actually nice to you. Him and Ethan got along right away when Tony first recruited him. The fact that he treated Peter better than you made you even more miserable. It made you think he never wanted a daughter in the first place.

You first met Peter when he accidentally entered your room without warning, thinking it was the bathroom. Cliche, but that’s what happened.

“It’s on the first door to your other left,” you stated.

“Yeah, yeah okay, thanks,” he turned around to leave but stopped to look at you again. “I’m Peter Parker, by the way.”

“Y/N Stark.”

Peter’s eyes lit up at your last name. “I... I didn’t know Mr. Stark had a daughter - no offense! It’s just-”

You sighed and waved him off. He didn’t even notice the similarities you had with your twin. “It’s fine. I get that a lot.”

After many events of being, to be blunt, treated like shit, you finally had enough. You neglected your studies, only went to school when you felt like it (which was rare). No one cared your grades anyway, so what’s the point? You became a whole new person, you surrounded yourself with the wrong sort of people, causing you to dabble into smoking and alcohol.

Since you were always in trouble, you could recite Cap’s detention speech at school by heart now.

The principal of your school wanted to see Tony to talk about your behavior. Normally he’d make an excuse not to go if it wasn’t that important but he got flooded with messages from the school, so he couldn’t say no.

You had your legs crossed, sitting across from Tony who had his eyebrows furrowed as he listened to the principal. For some reason you didn’t feel nervous. “Y/N barely attends her classes. I’ve seen every attendance. Are you aware of this, Mr. Stark?”

Tony only maintained his usual relaxed posture and avoided your gaze.

“Some students have also seen her smoke in school grounds. We gave her a few weeks suspension for it, but it doesn’t look like she’s learned her lesson.” They pulled out a couple boxes of cigarettes from the desk drawer. “We found these in her locker.”

“You went into my locker?” You shot up from your seat. “You can’t just do that!”

Tony cleared his throat and got up, gripping your wrist. “I’ll take it from here - will that be all?”

On the way out he doesn’t say a word to you, only that his grip on your wrist got tight as you near the car.

“So,” he started the car. His voice was calm, but it screamed that you were in deep trouble. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

You sighed and slouched in the passenger’s seat, crossing your arms. “I’m... sorry you had to know...?”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna be honest with you here,” Tony still doesn’t look at you. “When I found out I had two kids, I got worried about Ethan.”

You let out a snort. Of course he would.

“I didn’t want him ending up like me. But surprise surprise, my daughter did instead.”

“I’m not ‘ending up’ like you, Dad-”

“Then what do you call - this,” he referred to you. “What, you’re just gonna waste your life, drop out of school? You’re a fucking mess, Y/N, and here I thought I raised you right. Sometimes I think: why can’t you just be like your brother?” He had a hard grip on the steering wheel as he drove, the way he spoke affected the speed of the car greatly.

You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t fine the exact words you wanted to say. “I... well, I’m sorry I’m not a goody two shoes like him!”

“That’s not what I-”

“Please, that’s exactly what you meant.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Look, I’m grounding you until you pull yourself together, understand?” And he did. He gave new orders to Friday when the both of you got home. You weren’t allowed to leave the compound without Tony’s permission.

Were you giving up that easily? Of course not.

You were on your laptop for the rest of the day, hacking into Friday’s system, the security to the elevator and the entrance. That night, your executed your plan and everything went smoothly.

“This is why you never underestimate me,” you sighed, deactivating the hack once you were out of the building. 

Your friend who was picking you up was already waiting a few blocks away from the compound. “I hope you’re cool with me staying over for a couple days.”

“If a bunch of Avengers come and destroy my place to look for you, I’m not going to be friends with you anymore.”

You laughed at out, “oh trust me, they don’t care.”

----

The next day no one noticed your absence, nobody did for another two days. Tony just assumed you were mad about your punishment, so he didn’t think of it much.

Not until Peter came to the compound on the third day, wanting to hang out with you.

“Whatcha got there, Pete?” Ethan asked.

“Star Wars movies. I wanna watch them with Y/N - she could use some company, don’t you think?”

The older Stark twin shrugged, “yeah, I guess she could.”

Peter then headed to the elevator and stopped at the floor where your room was. He knocked on your door and waited a bit, after a few minutes of silence he knocked again, still nothing.

“Y/N? Is it okay if I come in?” He called out. No response. He hesitated a bit, for all he knew you were probably changing or something, or you could be in danger. He went to open the door anyway. “I’m coming in, I’ll close my eyes just to be-”

To Peter’s surprise, your room was empty.

----

You were at a 711 parking lot, waiting for your friends who were buying supplies for a house party. You gave them your wallet, not really caring about anything anymore. Your phone was starting to pile up with messages and missed calls from Tony, Edward and Peter, occasionally from the others as you scrolled pass more.

Without thinking you threw your phone to the ground, cracking the screen, breaking it completely. They’d be able to track you through it now that they know you ran away. You really had no intention of coming back. You weren’t wanted, what’s the point of going back?

[juno-of-the-sky]

mystical / koutarou bokuto

every night, you come to the forest to practice violin. tonight, bokuto happens to be there.

tags: violinist reader, gender-neutral reader

word count: 1,706k

a/n: hope you like this one! this was my first time writing bokuto that wasn’t extremely self indulgent (although it kind of was with the violin) so he might be a little out of character sorry!! i am actually a violinist myself so like,, if you ever wanna talk about violin my ask box is always open teehee

Bokuto had a habit of finding himself in forests in the early hours of the morning.

Mostly, he liked the atmosphere — he had told this to Akaashi once, but he couldn’t understand his response because he started rambling quietly about nature being one of his biggest inspirations, the importance of being somewhere with a good atmosphere, more art student-esque lingo.

Akaashi had actually pointed out this particular forest to him once — a dismissive, “Pretty trees,” and then the continuation of walking. Something about that forest had caught Bokuto’s attention, so, at a time he was definitely supposed to be asleep, he climbed out of his bedroom window armed with a flashlight and planned to find a nice tree.

He found something much, much more beautiful.

At first, the violin music coming from a few feet away startled him. He was considering running off like this was a horror movie, but something drew him to it — so he navigated through the brush until he finally came across you.

You were dressed in a black hoodie, the hood pulled over your face so you weren’t visible, but that didn’t matter to Bokuto — he knew that you had to be gorgeous. How else would you make this beautiful music flowing into the air from the violin you held against your jaw? You were turned toward a stream, playing a concerto from memory — you had been practicing it for so long that your fingers hit the proper fingerings just as easy as breathing or eating. He was utterly entranced and engaged in your performance, despite the fact you didn’t even notice he was there. It wasn’t until you stopped abruptly and he impulsively started clapping that you whipped around and screamed, your bow falling to your side.

“Oh — I’m sorry!” Bokuto said immediately, starting to feel guilty about scaring you. “I didn’t mean to shock you!” Oh my God.

You recognized his face, and somehow that was the most horrible feeling in the world. You’d seen this boy before, at school; you’d never been more thankful to be wearing a mask that probably made you unidentifiable.

“I—It’s fine,” You managed to say, still recovering from your stomach falling to your feet. “H—How long have you been here?” He tapped his foot against the grass as he looked up at the trees, pondering this. “Um… good question! Maybe three minutes?” “Oh.” So he hadn’t been watching your whole performance. That was good — if he’d watched the entire thing, you’d think you would just keel over and die right there on the grass. This was humiliating, having this cute boy you knew from school discover you practicing violin in the forest at 2 AM like some kind of horror movie antagonist. Even as you stood there, violin at your sides, you felt your face start to burn up.

“You’re so good at violin!” Bokuto gushed, not helping your rapidly rising temperature. “I felt like you were putting some sort of spell on me; it was incredible!” “Aw, you’re too sweet,” and it was true because you weren’t that good at violin. You’d only started a year ago, and despite your teacher telling you that you were a natural, you never believed her. “I just have a lot of motivation to do this,” You’d respond quietly most of the time to compliments. In truth, you didn’t like to take compliments. It made you feel vain — but he looked like the type to cry if you didn’t take his flattery, so you just smiled underneath the mask.

You glanced down at your wrist — it was getting late. Even though it was Friday, you still needed to sleep.

“I should go,” You murmured. “Um… thanks for sticking around.”

You elbowed past him. As you went, he called out, “I’m Bokuto!” “It’s good to meet you, Bokuto.” And you couldn’t see it, but he beamed. It’s a shame he was so caught up in his own wonder that he forgot to ask you your name.

The next night, Saturday, Bokuto waited for what seemed like forever until you finally came through the brush, your violin case in your right hand and phone on its flashlight in your left. Usually, you came to practice in the dark, but something tonight told you to bring a light.

His excitable face being the first thing you saw when you laid the bright light on the grove made you scream and stumble backward.

“I’m sorry!” He was above you in a second, holding out his hand to help you up. “I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“It’s fine,” You choked out, getting deja vu from this whole situation. “Um… did you come to...?” “I came to watch you again. I couldn’t get that out of my head all day!”

Your face heated up again and stayed that way as you tuned your instrument and played a quick chord. The sound, bright and pure, echoed throughout the grove. Perfect.

As you began to string away mindlessly, Bokuto asked, “How long have you been doing this?” “Violin for about a year,” You responded. “Practicing here… also about a year.” “It’s almost mystical here! You’re like some kind of forest spirit.”

You couldn’t help a smile — you enchanted him so much, and you didn’t know why, but it was endearing. You didn’t think of yourself as anyone extraordinary; he was probably halfway convinced you were some river deity.

You finished the song, your mind still somewhere else, and put your violin down as Bokuto clapped excitedly, a one-man audience. “That was amazing!” “Haha… thanks.” And for the first time, you didn’t feel so reluctant to take his compliments.

Bokuto kept coming; night after night, you’d go to the grove with your violin to find the gray-haired boy sitting on the ground waiting patiently. You’d make small talk while you tuned and then play something— sometimes it was new, sometimes it was something he’d already heard. But he never got tired of hearing that bow drag across the strings.

On the third night of the third month of doing this, as you tuned your violin strings, Bokuto asked a different question. Usually, he just asked you about the activities of the day, or you let him talk about something that happened at volleyball or something Akaashi did— but tonight, he seemed more interested.

“Hey, what’s your name?” Bokuto asked suddenly. You paused— you had never told him your name, had you?

After a bit of silence, you reluctantly responded, “(Y/N).” “I like your name! It suits you.” Bokuto’s compliment made your cheeks heat up— with delight or embarrassment, you didn’t know. All you knew was that you liked Bokuto. You liked his presence; you liked talking to him, no matter how childish he could be somehow; most of all, you liked when he watched you play the violin with his glittering eyes. You liked him a lot.

“Thanks,” You murmured. “I like your name, too.” “Thanks!”

The next night, Bokuto asked you what you looked like.

“I…” was your flushed, stuttery response. He wanted to know what you looked like? But wouldn’t he recognize you from school? Somehow, that was your worst nightmare. “Um, I look okay, I guess.”

“How long is your hair?” Tripping over your words, you managed to whisper your hair length and color to him. He nodded like it was a profound secret, saying, “Mhm!”

You were about to say something new when he said, “Can I see?” “What?!” “I wanna see your face,” He said with an innocent beam. “I’m sure you’re perfect!” “Oh, trust me, you don’t want to—” “But I do!” His voice was pouty now, and it made your heart thump against your chest so hard you almost worried he would be able to hear it. Should you do it?

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone about here,” You demanded, pointing a finger at him. “If you do, I’ll never come back.” Bokuto held out his pinky at you, a gesture you realized much too late that he was making a pinky promise. How long had it been since you’d made a pinky promise? Regardless, you hooked your pinky on his and squeezed. It was set in stone, at least if you still followed the rules of an elementary school.

Shyly, you hooked your left hand on the top of your mask and your right on your hood and pulled them down simultaneously.

Bokuto gasped— a gesture which you just took as a compliment, but then he flapped his hands and said, “I recognize you!” Your heart sank straight down to your shoes. “R—Really?” “I knew I knew someone named (Y/N)! I’ve seen you watching practice sometimes!” It was true that, over the past few weeks, you’d sneak to his volleyball practice once or twice a week and watch the practice going on with your homework binder open next to you. It was funny how Bokuto thought you were mesmerizing when he could just… play like that. You could never take your eyes off his hands— each day, you ended with homework hardly touched and heart swelling times a million. You liked watching him.

“I guess I kinda…” You admitted shyly, tugging on a strand of your hair that was exactly how you described it to him. “Came to watch you practice…”

“I’m honored,” Bokuto said with starry eyes, and you felt like he actually meant it. “Honored that such a lovely person would take the time to watch me!” “To you just the same,” You giggled. “Honestly, you don’t know how much I’ve looked forward to playing violin for you.”

He sat down on the grass, making you feel the need to follow. The next thing you knew, your hands were linked together. Your hand fit against his perfectly, almost like your palms were molded to fit flawlessly together. Nobody had ever held your hand like this… you weren’t about to complain.

“Maybe we can skip out on violin for tonight,” You whispered, a suggestion you never thought you would say. “This is… kind of nice.” Bokuto’s response was immediate— to pull you against his chest. It made your eyes widen, but… you liked it. 

He didn’t say anything, but you figured that he was perfectly content to follow your suggestion and hold you in this strangely mystical forest until the moon sank low under the trees and the dawn was there again.

have something you’d like to see me write? send me a request!

[elliethesuperfruitlover]

Dew Covered Rose

A/N: So we’re ignoring the fact that I haven’t written in like......two, three months. I honestly just haven’t felt like it, and my brain has been busy thinking about writing, or getting back to my daydreams, or thinking about Midnight. Comfort character tingz. But yeah, I’m bringing Topazi back (i also forgot when juneteenth was, I was supposed to do something for her then, I missed the day, but here I made up for it :) This is mild hurt/comfort, except my OC is tired, not hurt. Also this is probably time to mention that Topazi is a gardener, and goes to clients houses to plant things for them! Enjoy!

Tag List: @joz-stankovich, @misskittysmagicportal, @badsext, @super-unpredictable98, @the-freckled-luba, @magic-multicolored-miracle, @ghouls-buddy, @maerenee930, @frogs--are--bitches, @neuroticpuppy, @forenschik, @bisexualnathanyoung, @robert-sheehan, @firstpersonnarrator, @salvador-daley

Warnings: kinda unsafe driving bc sleep deprivation, brief mentions of nudity, swearing

  Topazi had a bit of a tiring day. The house that she’d been working at had almost no shade. The customers were as nice as they could be.....but it seemed as though every tulip that she planted correctly, they would request it to be put in a different place. Even though there was an extremely limited amount of space that she had to work with. It was very frustrating to her, to be honest. However, she got the job done. It took hours of her digging things back up and wiping sweat off of her face to be happy with the result. She was sure to make sure that everything was as good as it could be before the left for home. Even the thought of having to get back in her car and do something other than cuddle up and or sleep was killing her.

  It was late into the night, and the owl in the front yard stared at her as she pulled into the driveway, eyes barely open. She took multiple deep breaths and rubbed a calloused hand over her face before stepping out of the car, not even bothering to take her tools out of the trunk. She trudged her way into the house, carefully unlocking the door, as to not disturb Klaus, who should’ve been close to sleep, or in bed at that point. She tossed the keys into the bowl by the door, and hung her coat up, silently grimacing at the soreness already developing in her arms. 

  Not having the energy to call out to Klaus, she walked into the kitchen, finding one of the cats on top of the kitchen island, fast asleep. A small smile found its way onto her face as she gently pet it, smoothing down the fur on top of her face. She made her way over to the fridge, which she opened, very slowly, to find leftovers of spaghetti that Klaus had cooked for himself. She could never stand the noodles and sauce together, so she looked around for more things. Canned soup in the pantry....she’d have to heat it up, and she needed something instant. Juice wouldn’t be filling enough. She began to nod off, looking at the fridge once more, and she found a solution that she’d looked over. A sandwich.

“Thank fuck for bread.” she thought to herself as she grabbed the bologna, mayonnaise, and cheese slices from their respective spots before grabbing a knife and paper towel. By the time she put the bread back, her sleep levels had reached almost the maximum, and she began nodding off, head on the side of the fridge. She quickly came to her senses, and trotted back over to the island, joints creaking.

  She sat down on one of the stools on the kitchen island. (”Klaus, I need the stools, if my legs don’t look like a pretzel, I’m not sitting correctly.”) As she took a bite of her sandwich (crust first), her brain decided to shut down temporarily, and she almost fell asleep eating. The suds episode of Spongebob Squarepants, however, prevented her from doing so. She slowly ate the sandwich, grateful for the purpose that it served. After she finished her first bite, however, she completely knocked out. The cat woke up, looking at her owner, before hopping off of the counter, and walking up the stairs.

  Klaus had heard Topazi come home, but it’d been a while since he heard her open the fridge last, so he went to check on her. He avoided Minnie on the steps (as in Minnie Riperton, not the mouse) and walked into the kitchen, to find his lover fast asleep, small snores coming from her mouth. He smiled, almost letting a chuckle past his lips when he realized his task.

 “She looks fucking wasted.” he thought, before gently shaking her awake, resulting in a groan of annoyance.

“Come on T, you gotta get to bed.” he whispered, rubbing her back. She leaned against his chest, and shook her head into it, too tired to utter a rebuttal.

  Klaus chuckled lightly, and put Topazi’s used paper towel in the trash can, and her utensils in the sink, to be washed when he eventually came back down for his late night (and sometimes morning) snack. He gently picked her up, leaning down to press a small kiss to her forehead. He thought back simply how much he just loved her. He didn’t know how, as he said that “I can’t fall for someone completely. At least not again.” but he did. Although, it wasn’t completely all at once though. 

 Klaus made his way up the steps (once more avoiding Minnie), and into their shared bedroom where he gently laid Topazi down on the bed. He figured that she may want to be clean when she slept as well, but was somewhat confused how he was to go about the entire “my partner is half asleep and I’d hate to disrespect her boundaries”. So, he settled on simply getting rid of her outer clothes, and bra, then placing nightie over her form. It was one of the newer ones she’d bought. She would go on and on about how “there’s tiny flowers on this nightgown Klaus, I need to buy it”.....ah he loves Topazi with all of his heart.

  He gently tucked his lover into bed, making sure that she’s close enough to her phone that she won’t be grouchy about having to move from her spot in order to reach it. Topazi stirred in her slumber, but only a bit, and Klaus went down to the kitchen for his meal, which was going to be a good old fashioned lover boy nutter butter. Klaus thought back to when he first met Topazi as he ate his sandwich. It had been right after he met his....other siblings...like other other siblings. She was quietly sitting in a coffee shop, where she had her knees to her chest, reading a book. She was deep in concentration, but when Klaus found nowhere to sit, he had no choice but to ask her. (or to leave the shop and drink his hot chocolate elsewhere, but nah)

“Um, can I sit here?” he asked, pointing to the seat. She nodded her head without looking up, making a small noise of affirmation at the back of her throat. Klaus sat in the booth across from her, his shoes making a squeaky noise on the tile below. He awkwardly crosses his legs, taking small sips of the drink.

“What are you reading?” he asked, eyebrows quirked upwards. She gently lifted her book, and it read “The Human Anatomy, Down to the Bone Cell” He hmmed in acknowledgement, and resorted to looking out of the window. 

 The drops of rain raced each other on the windowsill, determined for few seconds at a time, only to puddle together in the end. Klaus stared at a single corner outside, where nobody seemed to be walking over. It was the crack where the sidewalk met the much smaller border of the sidewalk. He watched the rainwater trickle into it, and he felt himself start to zone out. But that was alright...he needed time to think.

  This, in turn, was perfect for Topazi to stop reading her book and stare at this stranger. New people aren’t really her thing, as they’re usually below her standard of who she liked keeping in her circle. She peered at the way his curls were somewhat tussled, like he’d been caught in a windstorm of some sort. (Although it’s been rainy all day, no wind whatsoever.), she thought to herself. His eyes were beautiful, but so tired, it seemed. Wonderful shade of green, she thought, too. She pondered the different shades of green that she could remember, which lead to her thinking of the floating diamond of Sims’ characters. (plumbob, she repeated, overenunciating the first syllable). She went back to the thought at hand, and looked at the hand clutching the cup of hot chocolate, still seeming to be warm to the touch, judging by the steam coming from the mouthpiece of the top.

  His hand was veiny, somewhat red, (maybe because of the heat). His fingers looked very pale though, almost as if they’d recently been subjected to extreme cold, or flashes of it. (the rain, she thought) His chest was partially exposed due to the.....vest that he was wearing (maybe he’s some sort of performer, he does have a cowboy hat) She paid more attention to his face, also tired, and glanced at his lips, but only for a moment, as she didn’t need to get exceedingly horny in a public space over a complete stranger.....again. She softly gasped when he looked back at her, and she softly smiled, getting back to her book.

“Were you just staring at me?” Klaus asked, looking back at her.

“Yes.” she replied, eyes skimming over her paragraph on metacarpals. She had a fleeting thought to wiggle her hand in front of her face in order to properly label everything, but she could do that back at home.

“Why?” he asked, his tone giving off the fact that he wasn’t in fact upset, just curious.

“Eye contact isn’t my favorite thing, neither is small talk, especially if I’m preoccupied, so I sometimes stare at people in order to get a better understanding of them.” she explained, glancing at Klaus.

“Oh, well, don’t mind me then. I won’t bother you.” he said, looking at the table. Topazi put her book facedown on the table, apologizing.

“You’re fine! You didn’t try to talk to me, and you respected me when I didn’t reply with the name of my book, verbally at least. I like that.” she replied, deciding to look Klaus in the eye.

“Oh, thank you. Care to tell me why you’re reading about human cells?” he teased, a smirk coming to his lips. Topazi panicked for a moment, because she thought “fuck....he’s a charmer”

  She did tell him about why she was reading about human cells. And why she kept scratching a portion of the book as she read. He even noticed how she bit her lip when she read, which lead him to think that she was actually reading some sort of cell erotica, only to remember what she had previously told him. They talked for hours, it seemed. For once, Topazi found someone that she could talk to and not get tired. Interests, parents, everything (maybe a bit too much). They eventually had to separate, but not after giving each other their numbers, and Klaus found a small feeling of joy in his chest as he walked out of the coffee shop. He walked back into the Hargreeves (uh.....Sparrow) mansion with a small smile on his face. His face hurt, not from too much sun, or biting his lips too much. From pure excitement and joy, he found. Bubbling out of him, steamrolling its way out into the open. His fists shook in glee, and he squealed, and he didn’t care. For once. He needed something good, and she was it. Beautiful Topazi. Wonderful Topazi. That’s the answer.

  Klaus came back to his senses as he realized that some of the marshmallow fluff had leaked its way onto the counter where he scooped it up with a finger, tempted to put it into his mouth. A few moments of thinking gave him his decision. He imagined Topazi’s look of disgust when she caught him doing that once, and stuck his finger under the tap for a few moments, wiping the water off on his bare thigh. He finished his sandwich, and went back upstairs (once again avoiding Minnie). He snuggled next to his partner in bed, breathing in deeply. Yeah....she’d need a bit of a shower when she woke up, but that’s alright. That’s alright though. She would spend the rest of the day at home, to rest from being on her feet and knees for hours the previous day. And he’d tell her how important and beautiful she is, and think about how he’d almost went to the pizza shop across the street. But he didn’t. And he chose right, so right. With no regrets, for the first time he could think of in a while.

Masterlist

[bakugou-jpg]

“Breathe” [Kuroo x reader] Karasuhoes server collab

Hello, hello, helloo !! This is my part of the karasuhoes server collab, the masterlist to all the other amazing and beautiful stories the other wrote can be found here so make sure to check those out too :)

This was really fun to participate in and i’m very glad to have been able to be part of such a fun little community🥺 Hope you guys’ll enjoy this thing i made !

Also pLEASE forgive the fact that this banner is pretty bad. I forgot that i had to make a new one and made this one at camp, but i’ll replace it soon with a better one😭🤣

Prompt:  “Hey, just look at me. Breathe.”

Warnings: TW:some sort of panic attack

Words: 3407

____________________________

Breathe

Dating Kuroo was like running away from the rain late at night after coming back from a big city by train. Getting out of the train and walking onto the platform only to notice its raining pretty hard, the noise of the droplets hitting the ground echoeing in your ears.Counting down from 5 to 1 before bolting off, the sound of shoes hitting the wet pavement being somewhat pleasant while laughing and screaming at the same time before rushing into the car being absolutely soaked. Sitting in silence for a few seconds, catching your breath before bursting into laughter.

Its the smell of gasoline late at night while looking at him through the car windows as he's pumping gas into the car, staring off into space for a moment before snapping back to his thoughts and catching you staring. Smiling in response and shooting a wink at you.

Dating Kuroo, was so much fun and comforting. There was no one who could make you laugh at silly science pun pick-up lines like he could, no one who knew your exact order at every single restaurant like the back of their hand and especially no one who knew how to hold and kiss you just the way you liked it like Kuroo did.

The two of you met in highschool, his third year and your second. Being friends with your neighbor, Yaku, seemed to have its perks especially after tagging along with some of their games and catching the attention of the rooster.

A couple of dates, victories, anniversaries and a ring on your finger later the two of you were sharing an apartment together.

Kuroo had a great job, one that paid quite well and allowed the two of you to go on vacation abroad a couple of times. You were still in college, finishing your last year of school and starting work at a place you had your internship at which happened to offer you a job afterwards at. It felt too good to be true, all of it.

Coming home from a rough day only to find a freshly made meal waiting for you on the table, waking up to find your head locked in between an arm and a leg wrapped around your lower back because he once again used you like a body pillow and had his own head pushed between a pillow, finding little knick knacks on your desk he bought cause they reminded him if you and solving the who's doing the dishes part with rock-paper-scissors but when you lose he'd still be by your side drying everything off.

Hours worth of paragraphs could be written about how fun and loving domestic life with Kuroo was.

"(Y/n)? I'm home!"

With his tie loosely hanging around his neck, the top buttons of his shirt open and one of his shoes slightly untied Kuroo had entered the house. His face was adored with a few droplets of sweat mixed with rain from outside after having ran from the car towards the front door, not wanting to get wet and all.

It was usually you who came home later, but today Kuroo was out of town and had a long drive home so he hadn't been able to be back for dinner on time.

It didn't take long until he had kicked off his shoes and got rid of his blazer, throwing it on some boxes so he could "clean it later".

He scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion, wondering about the reason why you hadn't greeted him yet. Normally you'd be calling out for him immediately or, if it had been a particularly hard and long day for him, you'd be by his side in a second taking him into your arms while running your fingers through his hair.

Perhaps, you went out to go to the shop or your parents? No, your coat was hanging on the coatrack with still fresh droplets of rain on it from outside and your shoes were neatly placed underneath it.

"(Y/n)..?"

Kuroo entered the living room, socks softly dragging over the smooth wood floor of the apartment. While he was busy taking off his tie, leaving him only in a blouse with rolled up sleeves, he could notice how there were two bags of groceries scattered over the kitchen counters. It seemed as if you hadn't bothered to even notice one of the peaches had rolled onto the ground and how it seemed that one of the eggs cracked.

Kuroo scanned the living room, noticing how you probably didn't even plop down on the couch after he left the apartment . Everything was still the same, empty cup that once contained his vitamin juice still there and the cushion he used to playfully hit you on the head with still on top of the head rest.

"Hey, babe? Are you home?"

Once again there was no reply and all he could hear was the soft buzzing of the dishwasher in the kitchen.

Perhaps, you were asleep? Or showering, maybe you were cold after going through the rain and were soaked so went to shower immediately which would explain the hurry.

A small grin made its way onto his face as he hopped off into the bedroom in his search for you.

He tiptoed to the bedroom, sneaking his way into his most treasured room of the apartment, being very careful that if you were to be sleeping he wouldn't be waking you up and could just look at you for a few seconds because god did Kuroo love the way you looked oh so peaceful and soft whenever you slept. It was a sight he could never get enough of, even if there might of have been some drool on the corner of your mouth.

Kuroo softly pushed the door open, a slight creak could be heard through the door but it wasn't too loud. The curtains were closed, perhaps you really were asleep? He was sure you had opened the curtains this morning which was something that had woken him up abruptly.

"You sleeping, baby?" His voice spoke softly before he made its way inside. Once his eyes had gotten used to the light, he could see how your clothes were scattered over the ground. It seemed like they were a bit wet, meaning you had been in the rain on your way back, and they left a trail towards the bathroom door.

It didn't take long before the edges of his mouth stretched out into a smirk and in a split second he had marched towards the door, his ear against the white wooden surface to pick up any sound coming from inside. "(Y/n)? I'm home, can i come in?" Kuroo called out, knocking softly while his other hand reached for the knob.

Kuroo lost the sense of privacy between the two of you a long time ago. I mean you two had seen each other naked before, what more was there to hide? You'd be taking a shower and he'd casually walk in to use the bathroom or the opposite way of course. You even caught him walking into the kitchen butt-naked in the morning. It was..interesting.

He'd always be able to walk into the bathroom while you were there, no matter what you were doing. Nobody else had the key to your apartment and if Kuroo brought someone home he'd always send you a text beforehand to avoid any embarrassing moments.

..so why was it locked now?

At first Kuroo didn't think much of it, maybe you did it on accident?

"(Y/n)? Are you okay..?"

His voice was laced with worry but ,once again, there still was the possibility that you had locked it on accident. He did it too sometimes, it was a reflex from when he lived at home that sometimes randomly resurfaced.

Though, Kuroo couldn't hear any water running..but you had to be inside since the door was locked after all..why weren't you responding?

Did u slip and fall? Were you okay?

Kuroo could feel how his chest tightened and all feeling he had in his upper body sank to his toes. His hands were sweaty, the loose tie around his neck suddenly feeling way too tight for his liking.

He leaned his forehead against the wooden door and started fiddling with the doorknob, hoping you'd atleast respond with a whimper or maybe a knock back. After all, you'd still be okay..right?

"..H-hey, baby can u open the door for me? Can you do that? I'm coming in okay?"

Although the door was locked, there was still a way to come inside from the outside. You see, though it was very tiny, there was a little button at the bottom of the door knob you could twist if you used something thin, like a coin or keys.

Kuroo found out when the two of you were roughhousing. He was obviously winning, after all the man had years of volleybal behind him and still worked out frequently. But, he had a weakness that would give you just a few seconds to get away and that weakness were his sensitive sides. It only took one pinch of your fingers and he flinched and started cackling, something which allowed you to run towards the bathroom while locking yourself up.

You thought you were safe, a feeling of pride washing over you and you settled yourself on the closed toiletseat. Everything seemed to lead to you having won, but the simple click of the doorlock turning made your heart drop and a few seconds later Kuroo stepped inside with a devilish grin on his face and a penny in between his fingers.

Long story short, you were absolutely screwed.

"Shit, shit, shit, fuck, fuck.."

Trashing through the drawers, Kuroo hurriedly looked for something he could use to open that damned lock. Within seconds, he fished out a very tiny key out of the nightstand and was quick to make his way towards the bathroom door.

"I'm coming in now"

...

"(Y/n)..?" Kuroo muttered, a wave of relief washing over him once he saw that you appeared to be okay physically. A second wave of worry washed over him the moment he saw your tear stained face looking up at him.

The sight of you sitting on the cold tile floor, your bathrobe hugging your body and your still slightly damp hair dripping some water on the floor was something he didn't expect to see. You were sobbing at this point, only now did he notice how you were hiding one of your hands from his sight. It killed him, seeing you like this, especially since he didn't know what happened and countless of possibilities ran through his head..why didn't you open the door?

Kuroo quickly rushed to your side and wrapped his arms around you, burrying your face into his shoulder while sitting down. He couldn't care if his suit got wet or if his head bumped into the sink, all he wanted right now was to hold you and help you calm down as he could hear how you slowly started choking on your sobs and hyperventilate.

He backed up a little, giving you some space to breathe and softly rubbed your back. "Hey, hey, its okay..I'm here now, its okay. Ssshh, its okay baby." Kuroo whispered, a voice oh so soft and comforting that always pulled at the strings of your heart. A voice that felt like a warm cup of chocolate milk with marshmallows that started melting.

At this point you were shaking, the clear thoughts you once had turning into a mushy blurry mess and all you could do was cry and panic. You wanted to go away, wait no you didn't. But you did, you could run, you shouldn't. Maybe you should leave without saying anything, wait no no what were you saying. Fuck it was getting hot-

“Hey, just look at me. Breathe.”

Breathe.

Kuroo was holding your face in his hands, basically forcing you to keep your attention to him and him only. His thumbs caressed your cheeks, wiping away the tears that were leaving your eyes like niagra falls. The way his warm hazel eyes peered into your own with such love yet worry made your head start clearing up. His touch was comforting, it was okay. Everything was okay.

Pulling away from him, you dug the arm you were hiding further into your lap. "Tetsurou, i..I, i'm really..Fuck" You cursed under your breath while throwing your head back, bumping it into the wall behind you while taking a deep breath. The way Kuroo's eyes were stuck onto you, felt like a thick smoke cloud. You couldn't get rid of it and it was killing you slowly, you wanted it gone yet it made you feel at ease in a way.

The bathroom suddenly felt a lot smaller and you suddenly realized why you were crying in the first place, old worries resurfacing and tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. Unconciously, you started pulling your hand closer and closer to your body, something which didn't get unnoticed by Kuroo as you felt his hand slowly reach out to it and wrapping around it.

"I-i'm so sorry.." You whimpered, a fresh new wave of tears falling down your cheeks.

It took awhile for him to register what exactly was going on, especially since he was confused about why you were hiding it. He didn't even understand what exactly it was what he was looking at at first, but within seconds his mind put two and two together.

Staring at the three pregnancy tests in his hand, Kuroo's mind immediately went blank. The world around him disappeared, and all he could look at were the three different sticks that had either a  || , ++ or read postive on it.

The thick silence was choking you up even more, the bad outcomes you imagined in your mind that you on life didn't hope to become reality suddenly feeling way too close to you. Maybe you really did have a reason to cry.

Kuroo slowly adverted his eyes from the sticks in his hands to you and he felt his heart hammer in his chest. "You..you're pregnant? Like, a baby, your- no OUR baby, growing inside of you. Do you..want to keep it?" He questioned, his hand reaching out for your own. The soft squeeze he gave once you accepted it made you feel at ease, the bad thought drifting away slowly again.

You nodded your head at his question, adverting your eyes to his chest. The world around you had stopped a long time ago, it was just you in the bathroom. The moment you had gotten home you didn't even bother to put the groceries away, the screaming in your head getting louder and louder with the minute becoming truely agonizing. The words 'You're just late' repeating over and over again getting louder with the second as you got closer to the bathroom.

At first you postponed it, taking a shower first and taking your absolute sweet time with it while scrubbing and scrubbing your skin as if you were trying to scrub away the panic that boiled in your chest. After having been in it for around 30 minutes you forced yourself out, not wanting the water bill going up just because you were feeling like a coward.

Peeing, had never been so difficult in your life. It wouldn't, you couldn't. It frustrated you extremely, never in your life had your bladder given up on you the most and when you needed her most she decided to let you down.

The minutes that followed were probably the worst. It felt like hours had passed, your reality slowing down like in an action movie when they'd shoot bullets at someone and they'd barely dodge them. Even after hearing the beep of one of the pregnancy tests, the more expensive one, had echoed through the bathroom you waited for atleast another 40 minutes before looking at it.

The truth is, Kuroo and you talked about a lot that involved your future. Kuroo always talked about how he wanted to buy a house, a big one with a beautiful garden where you could keep pretty colorful flowers and gaze at the stars at night. One with a porch and of course a swinging bench where the two of you would sit when you're all old and wrinkly with an old dog sitting at your feet. He'd talk about how he'd just know how good you'd look at your wedding, already talking about how he'd kiss you at the altar like he had never kissed you before.

All of those plans, plans for the future.

..yet there were never any words about kids.

The two of you weren't exactly too young anymore, after all you were responsible adults now, but you didn't except that if you were to ever have kids it would be right now. You weren't even sure what Kuroo thought of being a dad himself.

"I-i'm gonna be a dad? I'm actually gonna be a dad? We'll have to buy a house!"

With another nod of confirmation coming from you, Kuroo bursted out into laughter. It was a type of laughter you had enver heard before,if you were honest. It wasn't like his usual cackle, in all honesty it sounded more like a serial killer in a movie that was absolutely nuts and laughed wholeheartedly. You weren't even sure why he was laughing, heck Kuroo didn't even know himself.

The relief that had washed over him the moment he finally cleared his head was immeasurable. You were okay, like actually okay, and he was gonna be a dad? This was the first and last time he was happy about you crying. Fuck, he could even feel his eyes burn slightly.

Kuroo looked at you for a moment with a big grin and you could see how ecstatic he had gotten all of the sudden. The joy he held in his eyes was something you last saw when you proposed the idea of living together but even that wasn't on the level as this.

It didn't take long before you started mimicking his smile, all of the bad emotions gone within a second. The tears that once spilled out of your eyes due to panic and the uncertainty you felt not too long ago, had turned into ones of relief and happiness.

Before you could even comprehend about everything that was happening, Kuroo had grabbed the fabric of your bathrobe and pulled you closer to him. His lips immediately met yours, your noses slightly bumping into each other in the process but at that moment it didn't matter. The way his lips moved against yours made your knees weak and made you want to hold onto it forever. With his hand cupping your face, Kuroo only deepened the kiss before he pulled away again and rested his forehead against yours.

The two of you gazed into each other's eyes for a moment, no words exchanged, but with the way Kuroo was looking at you with the softest look he didn't have to. His thumb softly caressed your cheek and you could hear the way he sighed in relief as if breathing out all of his worries.

With another soft kiss to your lips, this time merely a peck but still comforting Kuroo held you close in his arms. His face burried into your freshly washed hair and his nose pressed against your temple. His mouth ghosted over your ear and you could feel his warm breath on your skin.

"..thank you"

Maybe agreeing with your friend that coming along to his volleybal practice hadn't been so bad after all, you'd have to thank Yaku properly once he came back. Meeting Kuroo really might of have been the best thing to happen to you.

Neither of you knew what the future would hold at this point and in all honesty it was quite scary, but you had Kuroo and Kuroo had you. You two didn't know how to actually prepare for such a big step in your life and along the way there were many doubts.

But coming home late at night to find Kuroo slow dancing with your daughter to an old song on the lp player, his face in awe as he looked down at how the girl on his hip that held onto her father's hand slowly started dozing off due to all the swaying might of have made you realize that sometimes,

Some things should just be left unplanned.

[anthonyed]

stevetony + no. 99 (“I fell in love with you, not them.”)? only if you want to, of course. no pressure! :)

ive said this before: i LOVED writing this. hopefully you like cats ♡

-//-

Tony says it started like this: 

One afternoon, Tony barged into Pepper’s office because he conveniently forgot how to knock and caught her rolling a miniature lint roller up her suit sleeve. 

She startled with her high pitched, “Oh my god, Tony!” But, Tony was too fascinated by the lint roller that he kept advancing with a singular focus.

“What is that?”

Pepper bristled, “It’s a lint roller. Why are you here? I told you I don’t want to see you for at least four hours.”

Oh. Right. She was still upset about something Tony did during the board meeting. Menial stuff, unimportant, anyway -

“I know what it is, what I meant is, why are you using that in here?”

At this point, he’s close enough to catch the very fine blonde hair stuck on the roller. “Are you trying to bury the evidence of your boyfriend, Miss Potts? Because while that is very thoughtful, I have a feeling he’d be -,”

“It’s not a boyfriend,” Pepper rolled her eyes. “With you as my boss I don’t have such time -,”

Tony on the other hand, while Pepper was talking, snagged the roller from her hand, “This is - This is not - Ah CHO!”

Pepper winced. 

Tony’s jaw dropped. 

“Miss Potts,” he asked, deadly calm. “I thought you read and signed all the clauses when you agreed to be my personal assistant.”

“I did, Mr Stark.” Pepper's lips thinned.

Tony dropped the roller on her table; the miniature thing completing two circles before stopping in front of her.

“Then why are there cat hair all over you?”

-

Despite what Tony likes to think, according to Pepper it started like this:

"Who is that?" Tony asked, low whisper, eyes like hawk fixed on the blonde man with a pink cap - 

"Oh!" Pepper exclaimed, leaning sideways and waving to catch the guy's attention. "That would be my lunch."

From the cat cafe, Pepper didn't say. Instead, she hurried out of the room to meet the delivery staff before he could enter; didn't want to risk putting the man responsible for her paycheck in close contact with the one thing he's allergic to: cats' fur. 

Now, Pepper doesn't know exactly what Tony thought that day, but when she reentered the room after shoving a 20 dollars bill into the guy's hand, she found Tony to be in some kind of… stupor. 

She stopped where she stepped in. The door closed behind her and she asked, "Tony?"

Tony startled. "Is that your boyfriend?"

"What? No!"

"Is he single?"

"Tony -,"

"Who is he?"

Pepper paused. Then she promptly decided to play hard - because secretly she is a menace and Tony is right. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Fast forward the next day; she saw Happy exiting her beloved cat cafe and entering the limo he drives to drop Tony off at work.

She didn't even hesitate; she pulled open the passenger door and slid into the empty seat.

"Fancy seeing you here," she cocked her head, smiling syrupy sweet. 

Tony Stark stared wide eyed, like he'd been caught red-handed with a cookie jar.  

"Ah HAH!" Pepper pointed at him. 

No matter how much Tony denied: "It is not what you think it is!", don't believe him. 

It was exactly what it was. In fact, that was how it started.

-

But Steve never talked to Pepper as much as he talked to Tony. So he obviously thought what Tony claims is right.

That the reason the wildly famous Tony Stark started frequenting Bucky's cat cafe is because he loves cats, and the moment he learned his PA had been hiding this cafe’s existence from him, he bribed her with fancy shoes to get the address. 

Happy would say, bullshit. 

But as it is, Happy works for Tony and Tony bribes him with a free sandwich of the day every time they visit the cafe to keep his trap shut. 

(What can Happy do in the face of excellent sandwiches and delicious Caramel Macchiato? They do say it’s hard to get the caramel swirls on top of the whipped cream right, and whoever makes his drink does it perfectly each time. So at least for the love of that talent, Happy keeps his mouth shut.)

So, when Bucky taps the caramel bottle on the counter and grumbles, “Are you gonna ever ask him out?” - Steve blushes the deepest shade of pink and pries his eyes away from Tony.

“Why would I ever do that?” He busies himself with… nothing.

“Uh, I don’t know Stevie, maybe the fact that he keeps coming back here asking for this vile shit," he pauses to press the cap delicately over the large Caramel Macchiato. "Or that he’s giving you pathetic googly eyes all the time?” 

Bucky glares at Steve then he directs that glare at the drink he loathes making the most with all the venom in the world. 

“Wherever he’s putting this cursed thing into," he shoves it at Steve. “Here. Go call for your knight in… whatever the fuck he’s wearing.”

Steve turns to look at where Tony’s sitting; in the far left corner in the back of the cafe; in his pinstripe suit and daisy dotted tie paired with white, also daisy dotted, sneakers and a pair of orange-tinted glasses. 

Alpine - Bucky's white Turkish Angora - sits pristinely on the table in front of Tony looking like she’s giving him a lecture on something - like father, like daughter - while Tony stares right back at her challengingly. 

Liho, who’s Natasha’s favourite kitten (no matter how fervently Natasha denies having a favourite at all) is lounging next to Tony, tail draped lazily over his lap. Mrs Berry in all her tortoiseshell glory, is licking her butt on Tony’s left. Grey Mr Goose is sniffing Tony’s shoes and rubbing up his shin. 

Behind the cash-counter, Steve sighs like the hopeless man he is. Bucky’s bemused gaze bores into him steadily.

Steve bristles, “I don’t see what’s wrong with what he’s wearing.” Because as much as Bucky’s wrong about Tony being interested in Steve in any way, he is right in assuming that Steve is. 

As a matter of fact, he’s balancing precariously between sanity and lovesick insanity and with every visit from Tony, he’s tipping dangerously towards the latter. Fantastic.

“Idiot,” Bucky snorts, turning to the kitchen. "At least ask him to change the fucking order. For fucks’ sake.”

Which leaves Steve alone with Tony, since it’s 8.30pm on a Tuesday and the cafe would never see a slower business hour than that.

Heaving out a heavy sigh, Steve puts the drink on a tray and checks his reflection on the microwave’s shiny surface - courtesy of Phil, their clean-freak coworker - before he moves.

It’s both scary and amazing how each time he makes his way to Tony, his heart would pitter patter and trip in its running behind his ribcage. So is the way he’d inhale sharply, lashes fluttering when they lock eyes and Tony smiles and -

Steve could just die right then and there. 

-

The first time Steve talked to Tony; he vividly remembers it being a horrible day. 

Everything had gone wrong from when the alarm went off that morning - A series of misfortunate events, and he’d just bribed Clint with a promise of dinner from his wallet in exchange for his extra shirt because an idiot on the freeway had driven through a puddle of rainwater soaking Steve dirty and wet. 

Then, he’d stepped behind the cash counter for his turn at taking orders when a rich-looking asshole in a gaudy get up started yanking on Steve’s already frayed nerves. The man, with his stupid beard and flashy glasses rattled off what he’d probably thought an impossible order.

But Bucky was the barista for that hour and Steve had never come across an order Buck couldn’t whip up till this day. Right then though, he was calmly speckling cocoa dust on a mocha, letting Steve face their new customer who had evidently walked in to test their capability. 

Unfortunately for all parties involved, it was just not Steve’s day.

“Do you want anything else?” He’d asked, after dotting pointedly on the cup. 

Tony had leered at him, saying: “Maybe a little smile for the service,” and Steve fucking snapped.

“I’m sorry. But we don’t serve that for assholes.”

He could see Bucky freeze next to him. Tony, on the other hand, looked fully offended. “Excuse me?” he started, peering above his purple glasses, gearing up for a fight and Steve wasn’t going to back down either - putting the empty cup aside as he inhaled and squared up his shoulders. 

But Bucky broke it off before it could even begin.

“Rogers, go make sure Barton is not ruining my sourdough,” he spoke up, flat toned, and he squeezed Steve’s arm warningly before offering his best smile to Tony. “I’m sorry, sir. We just ran out of cardamom so if you don’t mind excluding that from your order, I could whip it up for you just fine.”

The sudden professionalism was so jarring for both men that they each stuttered out an affirmative response and that was that.

Steve went into the kitchen, finished his shift, put an end to his awful day and he forgot all about the asshole customer. Until a week after when he returned.

-

“One caramel macchiato with perfected caramel swirl for Happy Hogan,” Steve places the tray in front of Tony. 

Alpine hops down and leaves, bringing her gang with. Tony’s eyes trail after the number of swishing tails, as well as Steve’s. 

“They really do like you,” Steve tells him, turning back to Tony with a teasing glint in his eyes; cheeks straining hard to keep a happy smile inside. "Nobody gets that much attention all at once."

Tony snorts, leaning forward in his seat, and he looks up from the rim of his glasses. "Pretty sure it's an intimidation tactic," he squints his eyes at Steve.

"Whatever for," Steve chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck and he looks down at his feet before looking up at Tony. “Are you gonna stay here longer? I was wondering if I should make yours to go or to have here.”

“Oh,” Tony glances at the tray, “So that’s why my drink is not here then,” he grins at Steve.

“You didn’t even notice.”

“Too busy noticing you.”

Steve blinks, “What’s that?”

“To have here,” Tony declares loudly, his eyes flicker as if they’re hiding something, and his next words come out softer, “If you don’t mind having me here for long, that is.”

Steve’s pretty sure he’s blushing; at least his ears must be the shade of tomatoes in the Spring. At least. “No. I - Of course not.” Could have said, stay forever please but luckily for Steve even his self-deprecating tendency has mercy on him. “Shall we?” He signals.

Tony’s eyes go wide as a saucer. “You’re letting me watch you make it?” And there’s excitement in there, Steve could taste it, even if Tony is trying so hard to keep it contained.

“I mean, we’re not busy now,” he shrugs and the doorbell dings, seeing the only couple who was there out. “And we’re closing in fifteen minutes so…” Steve turns back to Tony, mouth stretching slowly into a smile, eyes twinkling and he could see Tony’s face wearing his reflection as he stands up. 

“Lead the way, fine Sir.” 

-

Changing opinions is not an easy thing to do; especially those cemented so strongly from first impressions.

Seeing Tony the second time immediately made Steve’s spine tense up. But he’s been on this job for a very long time and he knows how to keep feelings away from his profession. He looks Tony straight in the eyes and beamed at him like sunshine.

“Hello! Welcome to Purricano, what would you like to have today?”

Steve distinctly remembers Tony’s eyes going saucer shape wide that day; two rapid blinks and a slack jaw which required Steve’s arched eyebrows to work. (If you ask Tony, of course he’s going to deny that.)

“You’re smiling today,” he squinted. “Why are you smiling? Do I have something on my face?” His eyes flashed towards the nearest reflective surface and Steve swallowed a bubbling laugh. 

“Except for your fashionable pink sunglasses, I assure you, there is nothing on your face, Mister,” (and your stupid goatee), Steve kept smiling creepily. 

Tony’s eyes grew narrower, and he glanced over his shoulder once - making sure no one else was waiting in line - before leaning close to the counter. He beckoned at Steve with one elegant finger, and he hushed, “Do you really think it’s fashionable?”

And the first bubble of laughter escaped out of Steve’s chest that day.

Never stopped ever since.

-

Tony makes him happy. There’s no denying in that. 

It’s probably why Bucky keeps pestering Steve to ask him out; because it’s been years since Steve last laughed. Genuinely, and this loud.

“Oh god,” he clutches his stomach, wiping tears from his eyes. 

The horrible latte art Tony attempted stares back with ugly googly eyes when he looks down and he bursts into another fit of laughter. 

He could feel one of the felines’ tail curling around his ankle curiously, and a pair of large green eyes peer up at him longingly with an accompanying pitiful meow.

“Not,” Steve tells her. 

None of the cats are allowed on the counter; even Alpine doesn’t get the pass. But she likes to try the most out of them all. The rest are already settled for bedtime, and Steve briefly thanks his quick wit to flip the sign close on the front door before he starts showing Tony around.

He turns to him with aching cheeks, tingling skin but the remnant of his grin dies when he sees Tony’s face. Something else takes residence in his belly instead; wings flapping neurotically, lifting to fly away.

“What?” he asks, lashes fluttering, breath sticking like glue on the lining of his throat. Because Tony looks dazed, like he’d just witnessed something divine but got no vocabulary enough to describe what was that.

He shakes his head, inhale sounding sharp, and he tries to bury his words under a chuckle but Steve hears him this time. “You’re beautiful.”

Loud like a Church’s bell, echoing even after and Steve’s heart stutters in his chest. Hope, blossoms like Queen of the Night; rapid and shy. Would die with a single ‘no’ from Tony, would probably never bloom again after this, but the hope is heavy as well as pretty; pushes Steve to ask Tony, “Did you mean that?”

Tony’s eyes snap up and Steve could see the same hope growing in them. “Are you kidding me?” he asks, voice high with a nervous tremor and it comes out like a breathy bark. His shoulders come loose, all limbs as well, and he reaches out for Steve before he stops himself. 

Can I? His eyes ask, and Steve takes a step forward. Of course; his gesture screams. Of course, you can.

Tony's hand touches his cheek and Steve thinks maybe this Queen of the night would live to see daylights. 

He shudders, full body. Closes his eyes tight and wills those butterflies in his belly to calm down. He smells Tony before he hears him; spice and a spilled can of cinnamon from just now. "Shh," Tony tells him. "Shh," and Steve sighs into his palm. 

His thumb drags a stripe under his eye, and Tony says, "God, Steve… Can't you see how bad I want you?"

The truth is no. Steve didn't see it. He shakes his head.

"Why'd you think I keep coming back," Tony asks, so close now that Steve swears he could hear the rumble in his chest even if their bodies are not touching. Yet. 

Feeling somewhat more grounded, he guesses, "For the cats?"

And Tony laughs. 

Not just a little but a full hearty laugh that makes him wheeze. 

"Oh no," he splutters, trying to gather himself apiece while Steve's surprise slowly shifts into a scowl. 

"No, no, no," he chants, reaching for Steve again, catching his face with two hands, cupping and Tony's so bright with joy when he presses their foreheads together. 

"Steve, Steve, Steven," he breathes. "Honey, I can’t go near a cat without popping twenty antihistamines."

"I'm allergic to them."

"What?" Steve pulls back. More shocked than surprise now. "But -,"

"It's you," Tony cuts him off, pulling him back by his hips, and he butts his head into Steve’s breastbone. Buries his next words in there; "I fell in love with you, Rogers. Not them.”

And he sounds almost whiny but Steve can see now, why; can’t believe Tony’s been inhaling allergy medications to see Steve - 

“Jesus Christ.” A little frustration seeps into Steve’s own voice as he buries his fingers into Tony’s hair. “I can’t believe you’re allergic to cats.”

A betrayed meow sounded from below and both of them look down to find Liho, gazing expectantly at Tony. “Meow,” she says again. 

“Think you got some explaining to do,” Steve smirks, looking at Tony. As if on cue, Tony sneezes so hard that Liho jumps a foot in the air before scrambling away in fear. 

“Oh uh,” he cups his mouth and nose, blinking at Steve, lost.

And Steve knows it’s bad to laugh, but he couldn’t help it. At least he saves himself with a smooth invite when he’d calmed down. “Wanna wait outside? Let me close the shop and we’ll…”

“Dinner?”

“Definitely.”

“Great!” Tony grins at him so prettily and Steve, with his heart fluttering in its cage, leans in and kisses him sweet.