#and he had a bunch of small accidents tonight and it was the first time in five months that he intentionally scratched me

[ourlittlesister2015]

I dont need may to be over but this week's going to be hell. Worse of the year by miles.

[god-has-entered-my-body]

What time you coming out? - M.H x Reader // pt.1

A/N: Lenas writer debut??? Omg??? This has a bunch of references to fics like the cellophane house (written by the lovely @vinylandcoffeecollection, srsly check out their work!). It's a bit angsty? Not really but angst will come this is a chaptered fic. Based off fallingforyou, hence the title. Thank you @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff for beta reading and putting up with me xx

wc: 11k

part two

February, 2008

“I'm not sure we should be doing this, neither of us is a professional hairdresser in any capacity” 

Mötley Crüe’s ‘Public Enemy #1’ blares through the small speaker set on top of the toilet lid, the music reverberating off the bathroom's tiled walls. Matty attempts to brush the bleach onto your hair, narrowly missing your eyebrow for what felt like the sixth time. You'd prefer to not come out of this situation looking like 90s madonna if you could help it. 

“Could you maybe not get the stuff on my face? I'm not sure I'd look as amazing as I do with bleached brows,” you say, flicking Mattys hand away from your hair, straightening your posture on top of the sink. Your elbow accidently knocks into the faucet and you curse out loud. 

“You're right love, you'd look well hideous without brows” Matty retorts, laughing in your face. He's right, doesn't mean he has to say it.

“At least I have any sort of eyebrows, I'd get yours filled in if I was you.” Now it's your turn to laugh at him, his jaw hitting the floor at your comment. He clutches his chest with his hand, bending over for dramatic effect as if to say: “You wound me”. You fall into each other's arms, fighting over the ipod once again.

The song changes, and Matty resumes his attempts at bleaching your hair properly, failing once again. It had been a stupid, stoned impulse decision to buy the bleach at all. The local drugstore sold it for cheap, and you had some pocket change on you. Matty wanted you to buy the red dye, and you dismissed him immediately, because even he knew you'd look absolutely terrible as a redhead. 

You hum along softly to David Bowie's “Suffragette City”. Bowie was your Idol. The song reminds you of him. Of Matty. It reminds you of when you first met.

—------------------------------------------------------

You were 15, pacing the street late at night, your boyfriend was blowing up your phone. Insincere apologies and “i love you”’s filled your screen. 4 missed calls. Tears were streaming down your face, making you not quite able to see straight. 

The song playing, was blaring in your headphones, almost deafening. The song didn't fit at all to your current situation, but that didn't bother you.

It wasn't long before you reached a bus stop, sitting down. You didn't even know where you were. 

Suddenly, like it was out of your control, you let out broken sobs, no longer silently crying. How fucking embarrassing.

You're not sure how long you’d been sitting there, in the dark, shivering in the cruel November weather. 

You hadn't even noticed the person walking up to you. 

He’d positioned himself in front of you, twisting his neck to get a look underneath your hood.

“You alright?” his voice sounded soft, concerned even. Through muffled sobs, you managed to look up at him. 

He had a thick, fluffy jacket on. Oddly feminine for bloke, and you were pretty sure it was a women's coat. It basically swallowed him whole. You almost laughed at the sight. It almost made you forget about the night's events. 

You’d had yet another fight with your boyfriend, Phillip. The two of you fought a lot, but never like this. Sure, he’d said some hurtful things, things you maybe shouldn't have forgiven as quickly as you did, but he had never, ever, gotten violent with you. Until tonight.

You'd barely registered it when it happened, your brain not properly processing his actions. In the midst of his screaming, he raised his hand. Raised. his. hand. 

It came down with a crash against your left cheek, the sound echoing through the house. Because he did, in fact, have his own flat. Because 24 year olds usually have that. 

Everything hit you at once. You'd managed to pick yourself up off the ground at a speed which would have given even world record holders a run for their money. You didn't bother grabbing anything else, you just needed to get out, now. 

You could faintly hear his voice calling out from behind you, begging you to please, please come back. And what? Let him put his hands on you again? No way. A rare moment of clarity.

Fucking cunt 

You’re brought back to reality by the sound of the stranger's voice. 

“I’m Matty.” he offered his hand, and you shook it. “What're you doing out here in the cold? Its fuckin’ freezing.” He's right, it was cold. It hadn't occurred to you to take your coat with you.

You stuttered out a pathetic response of your name, barely making eye contact with him. A few beats pass before Matty starts ruffling around in his coat pockets. Raising your eyebrows, you watch him.

You can hear the faint sound of keys in his right pocket, and it's not long before he pulls out a joint from his left. It looks crumpled and old, like it had been there for a while. 

“Spliff? It looks like you need it more than me.” He chuckles, and it somehow makes you feel better. He makes a move to sit next to you, and you twitch slightly when his shoulder touches yours. The bench is quite narrow, so you know it's not on purpose. It doesn't bother you quite as much as it should, given he is a stranger. 

He takes out his lighter. It looks old and used, the black plastic chipping off around the top. It looks like it's a miracle it even works. You can see white writing along the side of it. M.H. Initials? His initials? Matty H something.  

He starts burning the tip. Rotating the joint to get an even burn, you watch his movements closely, taking in some of his features. 

His hair was curly but frizzy, you could tell he didn't pay it much mind. His features seemed soft, almost feminine. He was clean shaven, his pale skin a stark contrast to the dark brown of his hair. 

Matty lets you take the first drag, stating “The first hit’s the best, and I've always been a gentleman”, flashing a grin your way. That made you laugh. You take a drag, letting the warm feeling spread through your body.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked timidly, his voice lowering. 

“Absolutely not.” You mutter, looking him straight in the eyes for what seems like the first time that night. A smile.  

—-------------------------------------------------------

“D’you think I'd look good as a blonde? I feel like I'd smash it,” Matty says, inspecting his hair in the mirror behind you. He has gorgeous locks, and you're constantly telling him to try and take care of them, he just doesn't listen. You study his features before giving him an answer.

“Maybe. Either that or you'd look like a bad hooker,” Matty gasps, shoving your shoulder in protest. The movement  makes your elbow bang against the faucet again, but you ignore the pain this time 

“I'll let you know i'd make an amazing hooker, thanks very much,” He proclaims quite loudly, making the both of you burst into a laughing fit. 

You take the brush from Matty, twirling in your hand. George had taught you how to do that. An idea pops into your head. 

“We could give you a few blonde highlights, just to try it out. There's no need for you to go full Elle Woods immediately” A giggle escapes your lips, picturing Matty with long, blonde hair. That’d be a sight. 

“Let's do it, right now,” he breathes, visibly excited.

“Really? Adam’d take the absolute piss out of you, you know.” Matty rolls his eyes obnoxiously before he speaks. “Well then let Adam hold on to his toxic ideas of masculinity, I need a change.” This piques your interest. Matty? Need a change? Weird. 

“What, did some bird break your heart this time? That's new, even for you Matthew,”

You can see him visibly cringe at your use of his full name. You know he hates it, and that is exactly why you do it. Getting a rise out of him is your favorite pastime. 

“Switch with me then,” you say, and he obliges, letting you hop off the counter. You mix up a new batch of bleach and part off his hair into small sections. Little pink hair bands hold his curls in place. You shoot him a look and he nods, giving you the go-ahead. The bleach goes on smoothly, your practiced hand much less prone to mistakes than Mattys.

It doesn't take long before you're both sitting on your bed with foils in your hair. You manage to snap a picture of Matty on your polaroid camera. The light reflects off the foils, distorting the picture slightly. Matty demands to see it, but you decide to keep it for yourself. Can't get everything you want.  

It's Mattys' turn on the music. 

You've decided on a turn system for music when you're together, to avoid the gnarly fights you used to have over who gets to control the ipod.

He picks the latest Deftones album. It's not really your taste, and you tell him as much. 

“S’not my fault your music taste consists of pop trash. Get well soon”, now it's your turn to shove him, and he almost falls off the bed. Your fights over music happened frequently. He insisted on listening to real music, while you couldn't care less if it sounded good. 

The timer dings and you both get up to wash your hair in the sink. Water splashes everywhere, absolutely soaking the bathroom. You don't care. It's just water. 

Towels litter the bathroom floor, soaking up the mess. Matty helps you dry your hair after you promise to help with his. The warm air feels nice on your neck. 

“I like it, it makes me look camp,” Matty states, admiring himself in the mirror. Of course he'd say something like that. 

“You look great, now get dressed, I've messaged Hann. He's picking us up at half 11” 

Adam was one of your best mates, and the only one who had a car. You and Matty were still in school, along with George, another one of your friends. Adam and Ross shared a flat on the outskirts of the city. Adam's mother had gifted him a car for his 18th birthday last year. A bright red Kia. Bumper stickers littered the back, your favorite reading ‘Vehicle of legends” 

Matty had borrowed one of your tops, specifically, a mesh top you'd gotten from Hollister a few weeks prior. It was adorned with a black tank top underneath, paired with the black skinny jeans you're convinced have fused with his legs at this point. 

His hair had dried, dark curls now in contrast with blonde streaks. They framed his face. He looked good. 

You’d gone for a more colorful ensemble, opting for baggy jeans instead of skinny ones. The bottom had already been well ripped up from years of dragging them on the ground. You paired said jeans with a wine-red off the shoulder jumper, the black strap of your bralette peaking out. You’d always loved that color. It reminded you of your favorite flowers, red roses.

The window closed softly, and you silently thanked God you lived on the first floor. Adam was already parked down the road from your house, impatiently waiting for the two of you. The radio was playing as you got in. Matty immediately started going on about how pop music has ruined the music scene and how it was all 'soulless, meaningless droning' and 'had no feeling anymore'. He always did this, and you'd learned to tune it out by then. 

The drive was short, and you arrived at your destination not long after you’d set off. The air smelled like water and wet pavement. It had been pissing down earlier in the day.  

‘The spot’ was an abandoned paper factory, affectionately renamed “Caroline's house” for any eavesdropping parents.  

Carolines had been abandoned for well over 5 years before you started hanging out there, not many knew about it.

The three of you had already made your way through the back entrance. The front had been blocked off years ago, a futile attempt at keeping kids out. There was one specific room you always went to, and that was the office. It had a huge terrace with an amazing view of the city below. The glowing lights made you feel small and irrelevant in the vastness of the world. 

The night was bright under the full moon, making it easy to see outside. Adam always brought an emergency flashlight with him when you went to Carolines. He was the voice of reason in the midst of the chaos. The responsible one. He always made sure everyone got home safe, talked your way out of situations with coppers on multiple occasions, and knew when to tell the bartender to switch drinks to water or juice. You’d always thank him the morning after. 

“What even is your shirt, mate,” Adam asked with a grin on his face. He loved to take the piss out of Matty for his camp-ness. No harm no foul, Matty would do the exact same to him when the opportunity presented itself. Eyeing him up and down, he shook his head and went back to picking at his nails.   

“She let me borrow it for tonight. Looks good, yeah?” Matty shoots back. 

“Yeah sure, that and those white streaks in your hair make you look like a proper girl, you know” 

You have to laugh at his statement, because it does ring true. From a certain distance, anyone could mistake Matty for a woman. 

“You wish I was a girl, it’d make you feel less guilty about your sex fantasies, innit?” Matty cackles at his own words. Adam chucks a lighter at him, and misses. It instead bounces off the railing of the terrace and clatters down onto the ground somewhere behind you. 

That was your cue to take out the small baggy from the pocket of your jeans. Going to look for the lighter Adam had just thrown, you turn around to see he’d already snatched your papes and weed, and started to roll a spliff. 

“Oh come on, I look away for a second and you steal my weed. What, are you too broke to buy your own?” You huffed, sitting down on the floor next to him. 

“Girls don't roll their own spliffs. You should know that by now, love” he said with a wink. 

Cue eye roll. 

“Oh thank you so much, what would I ever do without you, Hann? Fuck off.” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. This was never a display of chivalry, it was simply Adams' way of trying to get under your skin. Your stubborn self wouldn't let him, of course. Flashing him an award winning smile, you lay back on your elbows and eye him as he rolls your joint for you. 

Matty was preoccupied with gathering enough cardboard so he could sit on the floor comfortably. The three of you couldn't be arsed bringing in furniture from the office, so you were left with the cold, unforgiving concrete floor of the terrace to sit on. 

The minutes ticked by and Adam took his sweet time, presenting the spliff with a look of pride. You reach for it, seeing as you already had the lighter in your hand. Instead of handing it to you. Adam shakes his head. 

“Girls dont light their own spliffs, either” You scoff at that, though deciding against smacking him upside the head. You hand him the lighter.  

Mattys giggles can be faintly heard over your bickering, and Adam finally lights up. The distinct earthy smell fills up the air around you. They both let you have the first drag, stating something along the lines of “Ladies first” another eye roll.  

“Fucking wankers”, you mutter under your breath, and finally, you inhale. It hits you almost immediately, a soft, fuzzy feeling that reverberates through your veins into every inch of your body. The two of them let out a laugh at your expression, utterly euphoric. 

Adam takes the next drag, hitting him just as hard as it did you. He leans against the glass sliding door, letting his eyes droop closed. 

“Fucking hell, this is some strong weed.” He lets out a rough cough, “Where’d you even get it from?” 

“Oh y’know, just some guy. Same as always I s’pose,” 

Matty spoke “What, d’you shag him or something? No one just gives out this type of premium stuff on a whim,” 

This makes you chuck the grinder at him. It hits him square in the chest. You hum contentedly, grinning at him in amusement when he doubles over in pain. You bicker back and forth, calling each other names. Adam passes the spliff back to you, and you take another hit. 

Time passes slowly. The clouds slowly reveal more and more of the full moon. It is quite beautiful tonight, you notice. 

Adam produces a bottle of tequila from his ‘gay-ass tote bag’ as Ross calls it. You take turns taking swigs straight from the bottle, Matty managing to spill some onto his mesh top, making quite literally everything reek of alcohol.

You felt good. The high mixed with the healthy amount of tequila made you feel like you were floating. You could tell Matty was just as hammered as you, seeing as he was now straddling Adams lap, trying to kiss him. 

After multiple attempts at getting him off, Matty stood up on his own, stating that he didn't want Hann to pop a boner au cause de his womanly features.   

The three of you laugh and laugh until you finish the spliff. You’d never had a good tolerance for anything, whether it be weed or alcohol. You weren't particularly small, it just always hit you way harder than Adam or Ross. Even Matty managed to pull himself together when the situation called for it. You, however, were stumbling and tripping over your feet the entire walk home. It had been pissing down the entire morning. Puddles littered the streets, not an ideal weather for someone who was too wasted to even have any sort of depth perception.  

Adam had to leave suddenly, picking up a last minute shift at the shop he worked at. It was in the opposite direction of where you came from, leaving you and Matty to walk home. 

It wasn't a long walk, 30 odd minutes or so. It was made significantly longer by your inability to walk in a straight line to save your life. Echoing laughs filled the streets as Matty helped you trudge along. Your pants dragged on the floor as usual, which meant they were also dragging through the numerous puddles, soaking them. 

You stop suddenly, looking down and pouting at the darkened material of your pants. For some inexplicable reason, this made you stomp your feet like a child. Matty broke out in uncontrollable laughter, tears forming in his eyes. You were actually acting like a child.

“I don't know why you insist on wearing those insanely baggy pants. Look at me! My pants don't get wet AND my ass looks phenomenal in skinny jeans” He twirls around you, making you feel slightly dizzy.

“Oh fuck off!! Not everyone is an attention slag like you, have some decency for once in your life!” You retort, shoving him out of your line of sight. Due to your state, Matty quickly catches up to you. 

The steps of your house come quicker than expected. Both of you make your way to the east side of the first floor, where your bedroom window remains slightly ajar. You'd wedged an old shirt between it to keep it from closing all the way. You'd gotten sneaking out down to an art, always knowing when, where and how. Your mother had caught you once. It was your first time. You knew not to make those same mistakes again.

Matty helped you hop onto the windows ledge, his hands grabbing at your sides. While he looked frail, Matty was actually quite strong, lifting you up without breaking a sweat. 

You're sitting on the edge, slightly taller than him now. Peering down, you reach your arms out. The two of you hugged tightly, whispering quiet “goodnight”s and “sleep well”s. Saying goodbye after a night out often felt strangely melancholic, you never wanted the other to leave. 

You've been attached at the hip since that night. He’d convinced you to break up with Phillip, stating he was a bastard who shouldn't be allowed near women ever again.

Matty went on to introduce you to his mates after you’d found out you went to the same highschool. That was nearly 3 years ago now. 

Late nights often make you wonder what would have happened if you hadn't gone to that specific bus stop and met Matty. If he had ignored your crying instead of offering you weed and sitting down next to you. He’d always been charming, like a magnet, he attracted everyone around him. Sure, he was a bit pretentious at times, but everyone has their faults. 

You roll over and try to sleep, slowly coming down from your high. You made a mental note to take it easy next time, maybe pace yourself. It was hard to know your limits when it came to substances, and Matty was the same way. Adam was the ever responsible one, never too drunk or high, always the parent. You were grateful for him, knowing what situations you'd be stuck in if Adam had not been there to smooth things over. 

The tiredness hits you in waves. Glancing at the clock left of your desk, it read 3:26 am. Fuck. You try to ignore the fact that you had to be up in about 4 hours. You close your eyes, welcoming the rest. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

A harsh knocking sounded from the direction of your window, scaring the shit out of you. You bolt up, pissed at the disturbance. Turning to face the window, and are met with a familiar grin. Matty. 

It takes all of 5 seconds of him being in your room before you start cursing at him for waking you up like that. He simply shrugs his shoulders and sits in his designated chair. A maroon sofa chair in the corner in front of your bed. It even has M.H carved into the wood, because Matty had some sort of fetish for carving his initials into things. A sign of ownership? It made you wonder. 

Shuffling around the room, you kick your still wet jeans off into the corner, instead picking up a denim skirt. You’d wanted to wear that same red top to school, but seeing as you had fallen asleep wearing it, you chucked it into the same corner as the pants. 

A pink baby tee caught your eye from the chair Matty was sitting in. You silently point at it and he passes it to you. This isn't the first time you've changed in front of him. It didn't happen often, but what was the point of kicking him out? It's not like he was actively staring anyway.

After quickly changing, you go to put on some makeup. Makeup made you feel pretty, pretty enough to go outside. The only person who sees your bare face regularly is Matty. Maybe George. You didn't go anywhere without it.

You can feel Matty looking at you from the corner of your eye. Raising your eyebrows at him, you ask him what he's staring at. 

“D’you reckon i can try some of that?” he gestures vaguely at the eyeshadow brush in your hand “I think i’d look class with my new highlights.” he twirls his hair around his finger, giving you a look.

You look at him skeptically, before breaking out into a smile. Matty smiles back. It's not long before he’s sat in front of you, wincing whenever the brush makes contact with his eyelid. You tell him hes just not used to it, and to just stay still, for fucks sake. 

Once you're done, you take a step back to admire your work. You have to admit, he looks good. Really good. His eyes were lined with a dark purple shadow, making them appear slightly bigger. He takes his fingers, slightly smudging the out corners, giving him a catty look. 

“I think you might even look even better than me,” you say, looking him up and down. This is one of those rare moments where you can't read Mattys' expression at all. Finally, he opens his mouth

“No one could look better than you, trust me,”  

A beat of silence before he speaks again

“I do look ravishing though, d’you reckon Adam'll like this more than the highlights?” He always manages to make himself laugh. Then in typical Matty fashion, he pulls out a beat up looking joint from the pocket of his too tight jeans. 

“Fancy a spliff?” 

“Matty, for christ's sake, we have school in about an hour, and you want to smoke now?” 

“It's the only true way to get through Mr. Henderson's maths class, you know it'll be unbearable if we don't.” translation: please smoke with me. He gives you a look, because you know he's right. 

It was too late to protest. He’d already made his way to open your window, knowing how much you hate stinking up your room.

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips, and you find your place next to him. 

The wind and rain had calmed down, so Matty had no difficulty lighting it. The smell filled your senses, almost overwhelming you. You were thankful for the fresh air.

He placed the spliff between your lips, watching you intently as you inhaled. Your orange lip gloss had rubbed off the filter, and transferred onto his lips. The weed wasnt as strong as last nights, but still, the sight of Mattys glossed lips made you break out into a fit of giggles. Time seemed irrelevant up until the point you had to run to catch your bus. Sweaty and out of breath, you sat down in your usual spot. 

You can hear comments and insults being thrown at Matty from the back of the bus, but neither of you paid much mind. Matty was high as a kite, and too loopy (hungover) from the previous night to offer up one of his witty retorts. Instead, both of you gave them the bird from over the seat.

Matty was leaning against you, his arms hooked into yours. Neither of you spoke, listening to the soft rumbling of the bus. You stank of weed, anyone could smell it on you. Remembering a perfume bottle in your handbag, you take it out and douse yourself, as well as Matty in it. 

“Oh for fucks sake, now everything smells like Jimmy Choo Illicit!” Matty whined, burying his head in his hands. “Couldn't you have picked a manlier perfume? I'm already walking a very thin line with all of this” He vaguely gestures to himself. 

“Would you rather get kicked out after coming to school smelling like a fucking dispensary? Think ahead, Matthew!” He cringes visibly

“No need to get out the full government name, jesus” he shuffles up against you, and you can see his eyes are a light shade of red. There's no way the two of you would get through first lesson unnoticed. 

George was already waiting for you guys at your stop. Greeting him with a hug, you try to avoid eye contact, yet somehow, he knows. 

“Hey, you alright-?” He cranes his neck to get a better look at your face 

“Are you–? Are you high??” He laughs out loud, smacking your arm to stabilize himself. You shoot him a death stare, but you can feel a laugh coming too. Matty let out a sarcastic haha before kicking George as a way to say get on with it, we have class.

The walk to the room through the sea of people in the halls feels like a claustrophobic hell. B.O ridden teenagers rub up against the three of you, some even (quite violently) shoving past. 

It's a miracle you make it without Matty losing his mind at one of the hecklers. School was actual hell for Matty, and by proxy, you. Insults were thrown at him without a second thought, and the makeup he’d adorned today surely didn't help the comments.

He never let it truly get to him. He didn't care, and that's what you loved so much about him. This part of the city was set back about fifteen years in terms of acceptance and progressivity, so his flowery backpack and femininity wasn't exactly welcomed.

Adam had always taken the piss out of him for his outfits since they were boys, but he never, ever meant it seriously. They were like brothers, those two, and no amount of shit from other people (irrelevants, as Matty would put it) would be able to break them apart. 

The way the room was set up, there were six tables of four, with two people always facing another two. You had sat in the seat next to George, with Matty sitting (well, more like laying) across the other two chairs opposite you. Mr. Henderson had given up on trying to get Matty to sit right a long time ago, instead just flat out ignoring him. It was always easier to fail than to teach. 

“Fucking poofter, that one,” you can hear someone saying from behind you. You know they mean Matty. 

Matty blows them both a kiss before getting flipped off by the shorter one. He loved taking the piss out of the people who insulted him, throwing them off. 

George questions mattys makeup, and you tell him it was his idea. George had always supported Matty, using his insanely tall stature to fend off anyone giving him a hard time. 

The lesson was going by at a snail's pace, with Matty being his usual self, interrupting at every possible moment. It was so obvious he was off his tits, and Mr. Henderson looked suspicious. A particularly loud laugh from George had prompted him to throw you all out. You couldn't care less, getting up immediately.

Matty picked up his things from the floor, making a show out of bending over in front of the two boys that had insulted him earlier. They both scrunch their faces in disgust, muttering under their breaths. A giggle escapes you as they stare daggers.

“Fucking cunt,” one of them says, and now it’s your turn to blow them a kiss. 

The three of you trudge down the halls, slowly but surely coming down from your highs. George suggests going to Ross and Adams flat, seeing as it's just a few bus stops away from the school. They share a flat above a Sainsburys, which is optimal for late night munchies. Adam even works there, so there's always opportunities to sneak a packet of crisps or a can of cola. 

The bus stinks of sweat and mildew, as did all buses in britain. You get used to the stench after a while, your legs propped up onto George and Mattys laps. The back seat was always your favorite, giving you ample space to stretch a bit. You and George share headphones while Matty takes a quick power nap. He always lets you pick the music, and today it was Radioheads ‘No Surprises’. The music plays softly as buildings and trees pass by the window. The day was quite sunny, the light reflecting off of the windows of houses and offices. You'd sobered up enough to be able to think clearly by now. 

These days were the best. They felt calm, like you could forget every other fucked up thing in your life. Your mother, your coursework. Nothing else existed in your little bubble except the people you were with. It felt peaceful, like a breath of fresh air. 

Matty stirred awake as the bus halted to a stop, yawning for dramatic effect. He loved to exaggerate, ever the performer. George was the quiet, brooding type, trying desperately to go unnoticed, which proved rather difficult. Although he was barely coming up on his 18th birthday, he had grown to a staggering 6 '4, with a voice at least 3 or so octaves deeper than Mattys. 

It had proven useful, you aways had someone to send into the smoke shop to buy fags or liquor, even if it always took a pep talk to even get him through the front door. George was convinced he didn't look older, even though he had never been carded. Ever. 

Usually it was Adam who bought it for you, even though both Matty and Ross were also already 18. Matty had already been banned from most liquor stores in the area, so he proved rather useless in situations needing a bit of booze. 

Mattys violent knocks against the flat door brought you back to reality

“C’MON OPEN UP ITS US,” his voice booms through the hallway. You can hear banging and shuffling coming from the other side of the door. It's so obviously Ross bumping into every available surface because he hadn't turned on the light yet. He was an avid day sleeper, mostly working night shifts. A particularly loud crash is followed by glass breaking. 

Matty taps his foot impatiently, waiting for the door to finally open. Ross emerges, looking disgruntled and tired of Mattys shit. 

“Mate, tell me, what possessed you to come knocking about at this hour, don't you have school-? I swear you're going to be the end of me one day” he rubs his eyes, getting the sleep out of them before moving out of the way to let the three of you in. 

“First of all, it's like 11am, so not exactly the ungodly hour you were describing,” Matty starts “Second of all, we’ve been kicked out of class, so where better to come than here?” 

The inside of the flat reeks of cigarettes and laundry detergent. Ross refuses to smoke on the terrace, deeming it too cold even in the middle of summer. Adam always smokes on the terrace, scared of staining the walls like in those addiction documentaries. A futile attempt, but at least he tries. Matty immediately lights a fag, sighing happily when the nicotine hit his system. School had always been an endurance test for him. Getting him to sit still for 2 hours without going for a cigarette proved nearly impossible. He was already itching by the 45 minute mark.

“What did you even do to get kicked out before 12?” He looks at George, who tells him exactly what happened with tears of laughter in his eyes. Matty rolls his before sitting down on the comforter located to the left of the TV, ashing into one of the various ashtrays situated around the house. George sits on the sofa next to Ross, and you make your way to your favorite spot, the table. Sitting cross legged on the table made you all face each other, which you quite liked. 

“Brew?” George asks, looking up from his Ipod. Everyone nods, and he gets up to put on the kettle. Idle conversation fills the air, and Matty starts chatting about the new “groundbreaking” Metallica album. Matty was, if anything, a music snob. No one could stop him raving on about albums or artists, whether he was praising or criticizing them. Once he started, you couldn't stop him to save your life.

Minutes tick past when George brings back mugs of tea. Mattys mug has got the words “I ❤️ cum” on it. Ross has his usual Macclesfield Town mug, and you and George have the plain green ones Adam bought in an attempt to make the flat seem somewhat civilized. 

Hours pass and Matty finally shuts up. You end up on top of him, sitting on the arms of the comforter. You're all watching Skins on the telly, and Mattys hand makes its way to your back, keeping you steady. He’d always been touchy like that, so it didn't bother you. You look at the sofa and see Ross passed out, drooling onto George's jumper. George, polite as ever, lets him sleep. It was a miracle Ross hadn't started snoring already. 

You suggest to Matty that maybe it was time to get going, seeing as you lived on the other side of the city. George's place was right around the corner, so he decided to stay and look after Ross a bit before Adam got home from his shift. Britain's sweetheart. 

Getting up as quietly as possible, making your way towards the door. Ross stirs as Matty almost knocks over his mug. The two of you make eye contact, silently laughing at Ross’ position, basically on top of George. He flipped you off, rolling his eyes and reaching for the remote, turning down the telly.

It was still fairly dark inside, so gathering everything proved a bit of a challenge. The curtains were drawn shut, the yellow material of them painting the house in a warm yellow hue. 

You had spotted Mattys flowery bag in the corner next to the stove, and grabbed it along with a bottle of cola that was set on top of the kitchen counter. Hydration was important, after all, even if you knew Adam would be livid that you were stealing his shit again. What are mates for?    

Matty grabbed both of your coats, mouthing “lets go,” before making his way towards the front door. 

The bright light of the hallway burns your eyes. How do they survive coming out here when that fucking flat is always so dark? You think to yourself. You wonder if Ross has a vitamin D deficiency from the inherent lack of sunshine in his life, yourself excluded. 

The bus ride home is rowdier, filled with kids from surrounding schools. The both of you hid in a corner towards the front, away from the dickheads that usually sat in the back row. You were both too tired to deal with anyone but each other. 

He was right, everything did smell like jimmy choo now, and maybe you shouldn't have sprayed so much. 

His hand wanders to his eyes, rubbing a bit of the eyeshadow off.

“Does it still look alright?” he asks, looking up from your lap. It had smudged a bit, melted off after a full day of wear. It's not like you used your expensive waterproof stuff, after all.

“You look fine, pretty actually,” You give him a tired smile, stroking his hair absentmindedly 

“Can you even call a guy pretty? Isn't that, like, inherently degrading?” Matty mutters, a grin spreading onto his face. 

“It's only degrading if you let it be. You Matthew Healy, are pretty. Pretty like a girl” 

A laugh escapes you, imagining Matty as a woman. Knowing him, he’d be into it. 

“Does it bother you? Y’know, me being feminine and wearing makeup.” The question surprises you. It's a rare thing seeing Matty this vulnerable. He doesn't care what other people think, but he does care what you think. 

“You know I don't care, I actually prefer you this way.” you assure him.

“Though it's still my mission to convince you that the backpack is not the move you think it is.” 

That earns you a frown from Matty. “It is! I'll let you know the lady at the store told be it very in this time of year” its always funny watching him get defensive over his fashion choices, even if he knows he’s fucked up and its hideous. 

“Yeah maybe it's trendy... for 8 year old girls! But you do you mate, don't let me judge you,” that gets you an elbow to the gut. 

The walk home is one you always take together. Arms hooked into each other, walking, sharing headphones. It's your turn on the music, putting on ‘This Charming Man’ by the smiths. 

“You know, Morrissey sort of reminds me of you. You're really similar in your campness”  Matty choked on air, shooting you a faux offended look. 

“Did you seriously call Morrissey camp? He'd have your head for that.” 

“You're both attention slags, so there's at least one similarity.” Matty doesn't say anything, knowing your words do, in fact, ring true. Matty loves attention, and man, is good at getting it. 

He draws people to him like moths to a flame. Always the loudest, always the most interesting. 

That one saying; “You can't be the prettiest girl at the party, but you always be the drunkest” is a personification of Matty. He tips back wine glass after wine glass, not caring about the stains on his shirt or the red ring around his lips. He then makes it a poor Hanns job to make sure he doesnt get into a scrap with three much bigger guys (which actually did happen last summer outside of a pub in london. Matty got out scot free, while Adam nearly suffered a heart attack). 

You hug Matty goodbye, giving him a peck on the cheek. 

You always dreaded coming home. 

They say your biggest critic is your mind, but yours was your mother. You knew she had already gotten a call from the school saying you cut class. The moment you stepped into the living room, the yelling started. “How can you do this” and “What are you even doing with your life” turned into “Look at yourself, you look like a whore and you're going to school like that?” or “Were you out with that little gay boyfriend of yours again?”

You try to tune it out, not letting it get to you. She's been like that for as long as you can remember, never letting up for even just a second. You weren't the best kid, but she sure isn't helping you “get on the right track” as she liked to say.

Tears well up in your eyes when you finally shut your bedroom door. Your first instinct is to call Matty. He picks up after two rings, immediately hearing the quiver in your voice. 

He tells you he’ll be there as soon as he can. 

Minutes pass by slowly until you hear a familiar, although uncharacteristically soft, knock at your window. Matty.

Your puffy eyes meet his and he can tell you’d been crying. No words were exchanged as he took you into your arms, his hands soothingly stroking your hair as you let out muffled sobs into his chest. It broke his fucking heart to see you like this. You were extensions of each other, the others' pain was always your own.    

“It's all so shit. Why cant she just be normal one fucking time.” your voice audibly shakes, partially out of anger and partially out of exasperation. 

“I know i suck, I know I'm a bad daughter but-,” Matty cuts you off. “You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” His words only make you cry harder. 

He holds you close, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, the sound of his voice similar to the way he spoke to you that night. His hands feel cold against your skin, and you know he’d rushed to your house without grabbing his coat. You look up at him, seeing his hair was unruly, curls falling into his face. The blonde highlights littered his dark hair and he ran his hand through them, brushing them to the side to get a better look at you. 

“D’you want to sit down? We can listen to music. Whatever you want, and won't even comment on how shit it is, promise,” He knew you didn't want to talk about it then, you never did.  

You sit in silence, your face still in his chest, staining the light blue material of his shirt. You quietly apologize, knowing how much he loves that shirt. He tells you to shut up, and that it didn't matter. 

He had gotten it in Barcelona at some tourist shop for 50 quid. Insane price for a tshirt that just said “Barcelona” on it, but he held it dear to his heart. It reminded him of his childhood summers. 

“There's a bottle of um…,” you trail off, gesturing to the second drawer of your nightstand. Matty understands, and reaches over you to open it. The drawer is filled with half eaten granola bars, bracelets, jewelry, the odd vape for when it was too cold to go outside. Matty always took the piss out of you for having them, saying they were ‘so fucking girly it hurt’. After a second of rummaging, he took out a half drunk bottle of Bacardi. It always sat in your nightstand for when you needed it, and you definitely needed it now. 

“Only you'd have a giant bottle of rum in your nightstand,” Matty says softly, searching your expression. The corners of your mouth tug upwards at his words, and you crack a smile.   

He opens it for you, and grabs an abandoned cup from your desk. The cup he had gifted you on your 17th birthday. It was covered in flowers and stars, very Matty. Very you. Pouring a healthy amount into the glass, he hands it to you.  

“To shitty situations” He raises it, clinking it against your cup. He takes a swig straight from the bottle. You down the whole thing in one go, wincing as the alcohol burns down your throat. 

“You feel better?” he asks, pouring more into your cup. You nod, before taking another drink. “I just need to get drunk and forget,” you sigh. Matty starts to speak again.

“That's an unhealthy way to go about it. Soon enough I'll be picking you up from corners because you can't handle your liquor. It's a recipe for alcoholism, innit?” you cackle at his words prompting Matty to raise his eyebrows at you.  

“Oh come off it!,” How many times have you been so drunk you couldn't find your own dick if you tried. Sort yourself out before criticizing my drinking habits.” you scoff  

You decide ‘Wonderwall’ by Oasis is the right soundtrack for the night. You lay down next to Matty, your shoulders and thighs touching each other. You look up fondly at the dozens of yellow stars littering your ceiling. Reminiscent of your early childhood, you couldn't bear to take them down. You still felt like a child, your heart yearning for the same innocence you no longer possessed. A distinct naïveté you missed dearly. After your breakup with Phillip you'd realized that the world wasn't all it was cut out to be. People wanted, and they took. It didn't matter to them if they hurt others, because as long as they were satiated, nothing else mattered. 

You turn to your left, draping your arm over Mattys stomach. He let out a deep breath, raising his right arm to draw light circles onto your back. His nails had grown out longer than usual, but the sharpness of them was comforting through the thin material of your tank top. The edge of your small twin bed dug into your back. 

The two of you laid like that for hours before sleep took over your body. The stars on the ceiling blurred as your eyes started to shut. You let out a soft hum, settling into Matty even more, holding him close.

You don't know how long he stayed, but he was gone when you woke up. You feel a sticky note attached to your forehead, the glue rubbing off on your skin. You could barely read Mattys erratic handwriting. The note read: you fell asleep, hope your hangover isn't as bad as mine. left you some Advil on your dresser xx. 

Your hand reached next to you, feeling two tablets. You wash them down with water from the sink. Your cell phone lights up with a text from George 

“We’re meeting at Hanns flat, be there in 30,”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The windows were rolled up, trapping the smoke inside. Your eyes were glazed over, barely able to make out Ross’ face in front of you. Watching as Matty took another hit, you made a ‘give it here’ motion at the zoot, prompting him to hand it to you. Rhianna blared through the radio, a far cry from Adams usual taste in music, but no one seemed to care. Even Matty had managed to keep his mouth shut, instead moving his head in time with the music. 

Adam was sitting in the driver's seat, as always. He’d never let anyone else drive his girl, not even Ross. He was insanely protective over his car, even if it was an old piece of junk. 

George was in the passenger seat, holding a pink, polka dotted ashtray in his hand. The colorful ceramic proved quite the contrast against his dark clothes and messy blonde hair. It was a gift from his older sister, and the only ashtray he ever used. 

You were perched in the middle seat, your elbows on the console between Adam and George. Matty sat on your right, and Ross on your left.  

“No joke, I once had a bird offer to give me a footjob. Can you imagine that?” Adam spoke loudly, almost too loud. Ross let out a disgusting snort, the mental image of Adam getting a footjob making him properly lose it. You make a face. 

“That can't feel good at all, innit? Aren't the soles of feet rough?” you ponder. “Only if you have George's hobbit feet, that is,” Matty said, ducking to avoid yet another lighter being chucked at him. You were going to run out of lighters at this rate. 

“I'll show you hobbit feet you fucking cunt,” George retorted, sticking out his tongue like a child.

“I had a girl once who wanted me to properly bite down on her nipples, like hard. Can't imagine how much that would've hurt.” you share. She’d been quite the odd one up until she was in your bed, so you were already expecting some sort of weird kink. Nipple biting was definitely not on that list. Not that you were kink shaming.  

George spoke first: “What d’you mean girl? You're telling me you've been with girls?” You raise your eyebrows at him. “Erm, yeah? Didn't I tell you-?” Everyone shook their heads except Matty. You had already told him this story months before, the both of you laughing at your misfortune. Smiling at the fond memory, you meet Ross’ eye. 

“We didn't know you were like, proper gay,” he says quietly, not wanting to sound abrasive. You suck in a deep breath before answering. “I'm not proper anything, and besides,” you point at Matty sitting next to you, “This one’s snogged loads of blokes.”  A collective “What???” fills the car, with everyone's eyes now on Matty. 

“What if I have? It's not my job to notify you of all my sexual endeavors, innit?” Matty looks slightly uncomfortable, giving you a look. You frown at him, and he shakes his head. Slight signs of a smile linger on his face. It's fine he mouths at you, resting his arm on your shoulder. 

The three of them talk loudly over each other, with Ross asking some very explicit questions on the mechanics of gay sex. 

“How do you even, like, properly shag? It's not like you have anything you can shove into the other girl,” Jesus christ. 

Matty taps Ross’ shoulder, bringing the attention to his hands. He brings them up to his mouth, sticking his tongue out between the V-shape his fingers had made. Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, the whole demonstration makes Ross visibly cringe. 

The car suddenly starts. Adam makes the short drive to Carolines, stating that the hotbox was getting to be too much for him. George has a go at his age, calling him an old man. Hann was in fact, about 2 and a half years older than George, and a solid year older than the rest of you. Old man was right. 

You had rolled down the window on Mattys side, hoping some fresh air would help Adams driving skills. The erratic swerving had begun to make you sick. 

Finally trugding up the stairs to the terrace, Matty says something about it being too fucking cold. Ross says “That's the price of being built like a male Kate Moss,” and Matty nearly shoves him down the stairs. 

It is colder than usual, and you had opted for a dark gray zip up, the material hugging you tightly. You were pretty sure it was Mattys. A pair of green wash jeans hung low, revealing the lightning bolt tattoo on your right hip bone. It was a copy of Bowie's on the cover of ‘Aladdin Sane’. You had gotten it done by another one of your mates, Rome, who was an aspiring tattoo artist. It looked a bit shit, the lines slightly crooked, but it was yours. 

You had convinced George and Ross to carry the sofa from the office onto the terrace. They were the tallest and strongest, and Mattys arms would have snapped like twigs if he tried to carry anything, you said to them. George laughed his octave defying laugh, while Ross let out an annoyed grunt, shoving past you. 

Adam was right behind them, carrying a small wooden coffee table. “For you- I know how much you hate sofas,” he says quietly. You called him a softy, but inevitably thanked him for bringing it out. He had his rare sweet moments, and you appreciate them 

Once you had all settled, you took out your tobacco and papes, starting to roll your first cigarette of the night. You honestly needed a break from all the weed, because jesus. 

Matty let out a groan, taking the piss out of you for bringing all that instead of just buying industrials. 

“I know you think you're better than us for rolling, it's quite pretentious.” he sucks in a breath before talking, moving his hands erratically “Don't tell me it ‘tastes better’ because that's simply bollocks, it all tastes the same!” 

“Pretentious? Her? That's rich coming from someone who raves on about William Burroughs like anyone knows who is!” Matty looks hurt, and you give Ross a look that says you really don't know who William Burroughs is?

The conversation continued without you, too preoccupied with rolling to add anything. All was well until George decided to open his giant mouth again. 

“If you're not fully gay,” he started, “how do we know you're not secretly crushing on any of us?” he raised his eyebrows, looking at you expectantly.

You let out a snort, it slowly morphing into laughter until you look at him, his expression deadly serious. 

“You can’t actually mean that?” your voice is slightly hoarse. “For all we know, you could be harboring secret affection for Matty with the amount of times you’ve slept in the same bed.” 

Mattys perks up at this, shooting George a glare that could kill a man. He told him??? 

You don't know what came over you. Maybe it was the weed, maybe you were just groggy from the lingering hangover. You lick the cig closed, setting down next to the others. Uncrossing your legs, you get up and walk towards Matty. You can see the grin plastered onto his face, and he is definitely not sober.

You stumbled over Adam's foot, kicking it out of the way. Ross moved away from Matty, giving you some space. 

The terrace was dark, but the moonlight illuminated some of Mattys features. Specifically, his eyes. They seemed to glow, following your every step toward him. I'll show you secret affection you thought to yourself when your hand made contact with Mattys face. The stubble on his chin scratched your fingers. He never could grow a beard, and the faint shadow was as long as it would get. 

He sat with his legs spread, skin peaking out through the single rip in his jeans. His arms rested on the sofas back, splaying out to the side. He wore a black v-line jumper, the knit of it almost see-through.  

The makeup from the previous day was still smudged on his face, giving him a rockstar-esque look. The eyeshadow framed his eyes, glittering in the faint light. Your hands cupped his face, lightly stroking his jaw. The grin had been wiped off his face the moment you had settled between his legs, kneeling on the edge of the sofa. 

You didn't think, just moved, your lips smashing against each other. It seemed to take Matty by surprise, and it even took him a second before he kissed you back. One thing nagged at you. Why did you like it?

There was no time to think when you heard George wolf whistle at the both of you. 

You want a show, I'll give you a show you thought, slipping in your tongue and taking over the kiss. He seemed into it, but then again, Matty would fuck anything with a pulse. You smile against his mouth at the thought. It suddenly felt hot, even though you were outside. His hand snaked its way into your hair, tugging slightly. This didn't feel platonic. Was it?

“Alright, alright, we didn't sign up for a porno,” Ross says, his hand covering his mouth. You were the one who broke the kiss. Matty let out a soft groan when you parted, loud enough for only you to hear. His eyes pierced yours, and you moved to get off of him. 

Your heart thrummed against your ribcage, and you felt dizzy. What the fuck?

You wiped your mouth, your lipgloss having smeared all over your face. Wiping the back of your sticky hand against the sofa, you turned and walked back to your spot on the table. 

“See! Absolutely no ‘secret affection’ as George so kindly put it.” you say to the group, going back to your pile of fags, taking one and lighting it. If you had looked at Matty instead of being preoccupied with Hanns bickering about the prissy new manager, you would have noticed a faint shade of red caressing his cheeks. He felt around for his own cigarettes, and took out a pack of parliaments. Spotting the lighter next to you, he reached for it, lighting the cig as he inhaled the smoke eagerly.

It was already half two when the five of you finally piled back into Hanns car. The prominent stench of weed made you scrunch up your nose. You decide to light a cigarette in the car despite various protests and threats to your life if you even dared to ash onto the leather seats. Switching seats with Matty, you ash out the window instead, resting your head against the rim of the car. 

Ross and George were having yet another meaningless debate on whether mixing ketchup and mayo was a cardinal sin or totally acceptable. Every other word was an insult, and you knew they would never come to an agreement, ever.

You had already established that you’d be sleeping over at Mattys, saving Adam time and petrol not having to drive both of you home separately. Denise and Tim were out on a press tour, so he had the house to himself. 

His room was dark, the curtains drawn shut. If you knew Matty, you knew he hated the big light with a burning passion. Instead, a small lamp was turned on in the corner, illuminating the various posters that littered his wall. Band posters, prints, tapestries, the occasional quote. Everything screamed Matty

His room was filled with so much music. CD’s, vinyls, even the odd cassette tape. His purple record player sat on top of a dresser next to his desk, surrounded by various small trinkets of his. It was his prized possession, a gift from his mother for his 14th birthday.  

You had already helped yourself to a cola from his fridge downstair. His house was huge, way bigger than your own. Your parents weren't actors, after all. The walls of his room were stained towards the corners, just another side effect of Mattys near constant chain smoking. His bed was big, and you both fit comfortably on it. The wardrobe next to it had a pile of your own clothes in it, but none to sleep in. Your eyes dart around the room looking for one of his to wear, landing on his bright pink durex t-shirt. He had worn it once to school, promptly getting kicked out of literature class by a very conservative Mrs. Sexton.

Soft music was playing in the background as you unloaded your bag onto Matty’s insanely cluttered desk. Out came multiple pens, makeup, not one, not two, but three lighters, and finally, makeup wipes.    

You sat on the ground in front of his full length mirror, wiping at your eyes and face. Matty was making the bed, giving the both of you each your own duvet, a must after too many fights over the blanket. You weren't a peaceful sleeper, constantly tossing and turning, occasionally even kicking Matty in the back. 

Washing your face, you hear the bathroom door click open. Matty went and sat on the closed toilet lid next to you.

“Hand me my toothbrush, will you? And some toothpaste.” he asked, stretching his hand out. You do, even wetting the toothbrush for him. 

He sat there, brushing his teeth and flipping through a recent issue of playboy while you put moisturizer on, and then a serum. 

“I dont get how you can be arsed to put all that shit on your face, it takes way too long,” his comment makes you roll your eyes at him in the reflection. 

“Not everyone is naturally blessed with clear skin like you, people like me have to put effort into their appearance, knobhead.” A wave of insecurity hits you as you inspect the acne on your face. 

You had been a chronic face picker in your early teenage years, and the consequences of that were gnarly acne scars covering most of your face. They were not prominent, but they were there. 

Matty was fortunate enough to have had maybe three zits ever, his clear skin the stuff of dreams. 

Matty watches you pick yourself apart in the mirror. He hated when you did that. It made his heart ache in his chest. He wished you could see what he saw. What did he see?

“You’re quite beautiful, really,” he says, making eye contact with you through the mirror. You’re taken aback, not quite sure how to respond. You open your mouth to speak. 

“Oh bugger off,” you say, your voice breathy and annoyed. You didn't want to sound annoyed, it just came out that way. 

Matty raises both his hands in defeat, and spits the toothpaste into the toilet bowl, flushing. The hairbands sitting on the bathroom counter eventually end up in your hair, holding together two braids on either side of your face. You stare at the mirror one more time, examining yourself. The pink fabric of your (well, Mattys) shirt clung to you like it did Matty. Taking off your bra, you go back into his room. He had changed into a loose Kiss t-shirt and black boxers. The light of the corner lamp helped you find your phone, sitting on the nightstand next to you. 

The atmosphere was calm, calm enough that you’d almost forgotten about the kiss. Almost. 

Matty reached over to turn the lamp off, lighting a candle for light. Cinnamon. 

“You know it's dangerous to sleep with candles lit? We could catch on fire and die,” Matty had rolled over on his side, now facing you. A grin spread onto his face. 

“If it kept me from ever seeing Hanns ugly mug ever again, i’d gladly let cinnamon spice scented flames burn me to death,” 

You giggle at his words. Poor Adam, always taking the worst of Mattys jokes, if you could even call them that. Accepting his decision to keep the candle lit, you pull the blanket over your shoulders. Your eyes shut and you can feel butterflies in your stomach. Butterflies, really? Jesus fucking christ. 

You're scared to open your eyes, scared to even look at Matty. Maybe it was a mistake. He's your best mate. That kiss didn't mean anything, especially not to him.

A million thoughts race through your head, and you shove them into a small corner of your mind. Ignore ignore ignore, it didn't mean anything. He's just some wanker who picked you up at a bus stop three years ago and somehow became your best mate. He's just some guy you share a bed with sometimes. He's just some guy who lights your spliffs for you. He's just some guy who you kissed on a terrace overlooking the city. 

Fuck. 

[tachiharastanacc]

Finally wrote something for that “Verlaine and Rimbaud adopt a bunch of kids” AU from this post lol.

Chuuya had lived a relatively peaceful existence ever since he met his dads. He’d been in a bad car accident when he was seven, leaving him without any memories prior to the crash.

Or even the crash itself.

In fact, the time right after had been a blur as well.

Everything from waking up to the men who introduced themselves as his adoptive fathers had seemed surreal at the time.

But now, three years later, he wouldn’t dream of any other life than the one he lived in the french countryside with his dads.

Chuuya didn’t have many friends. Or any, really.

Nobody lived near them, and his dads thought it was better for his recovery if he was away from the hustle and bustle of the city. The very few times he’d ventured into the nearby town had been with his parents, who let him pick up a snack from the gas station before waiting in the car.

That was alright though, because Chuuya had tons of land to explore.

Fresh open fields covered with flowers, nearby woods where he could play and pretend he was some fairytale prince, the small lake where they swam in the summertime…

It was a happy life that he led. One free of strife.

Until tonight.

The humidity had brought with it a terrible storm. Chuuya had been spending it like any other stormy night- hidden away in the blanket fort with his dads and stuffed dog Adam as they watched movies. Papa had gone to get more popcorn while Dad stayed with him in the fort.

But Papa had been gone for a while and the microwave had long stopped popping. The scent of burnt butter tickled their noses.

Chuuya had been a bit worried, but Dad had patted his head and told him, “don’t worry. Paul likely just lost track of time. You know how he gets.”

Chuuya nodded. He did know how Papa got. Easily distracted by his work.

With a kiss to the forehead, Dad had left to go check on Papa.

But he’d been gone for a while too.

The thunder was loud outside of the safety of the fort, but Chuuya was brave. Adam went out first, always a loyal companion.

The patchwork puppy flopped to the ground since his stuffing was a bit uneven. He went everywhere with Chuuya, so Dad had to stitch him up a lot. Unfortunately, Dad wasn’t the best at sewing, and he refused to let Papa help, resulting in Adam looking more like Frankenstein’s monster than a dog.

That was ok though, because just like Chuuya, his scars made him unique!

After getting the signal from Adam (silence), the young boy forward-rolled out of the fort. Spy-like.

Secret Agent Chuuya and his trust partner Detective Adam snuck out of their room, creeping through the halls.

Voices were speaking in hushed murmurs. The pair of spies tip-toed (or rather, Chuuya tip-toed. Adam rode on his head) to the railing at the top of the stairs.

Just below, he could make out the shadows of his dads whispering.

“…isn’t fair to Chuuya…”

“…leave…there.”

“…risk…even know!”

Secret Agent Chuuya was officially suspicious. He leaned forward. Unfortunately, due to his small, lopsided body and general clumsiness, Adam toppled from his head. He slipped though the railings as Chuuya reached for him, landing with a plop on the wood below.

The whispers immediately stopped.

One of the evil criminals emerged from around the corner, scooping Adam into his arms and staring up at Chuuya.

Instead of playing along, however, he just sighed.

Chuuya’s smile instantly fell.

“Dad? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. We just might be having some visitors.”

He turned to stare at where Papa was still standing, before he also emerged.

“Kiddo, something came up with work. I need to go check on something at the office. I need you to be good and help your dad make up the guest room, ok?”

Chuuya nodded, the picture of seriousness.

They never, ever got guests. And if Papa was going to go out into the storm to pick them up, they must’ve been important.

Maybe it was work friends. Or maybe relatives! Grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins…

Chuuya had never met any of them, but maybe they were coming to surprise him!

As Papa headed out into the rainy night, Dad and Chuuya started making up the spare bedroom. It had served as an office for the better part of three years, so a lot of boxes and papers had to be moved.

Dad did most of the lifting, while Chuuya helped with the lighter boxes- Papa had said he wasn’t supposed to try lifting anything heavy without help or else he could get hurt.

Adam supervised.

Once the guest room was all made up, Chuuya and Adam retreated back to the safety of the fort. They continued their movie, though they were both aware of the absence of their dads.

Or at least, Chuuya was, but he assumed Adam felt the same since they were best friends.

The thunder and lightning died down, and Dad tucked them both safely under the covers.

Chuuya was asleep when Papa’s truck (Dad had wanted a nicer car, but Papa said the truck was more efficient) drove back into the driveway.

The sound of the door opening woke him up. He should be good and stay in bed, but he was too excited! He wanted to meet his relatives super badly!

Or Papa’s work friends. He shouldn’t get his hopes up.

As he sneakily emerged from his room and peered over the banister, he realized it was neither.

Speaking to Dad and Papa were two teenage boys. One had white hair and the other dark brown. They were dressed in unusual clothing and both were sopping wet.

Even stranger, they had two more kids with them. The white-haired one had a boy a few years younger than Chuuya on his back, while his companion was holding a small girl with pink hair.

The teen with white hair turned to look at him, despite his eyes being closed. Chuuya felt a chill run through him.

His dads also looked up, expressions grim, though they softened upon seeing him.

Papa nodded to the strange group of children and climbed up the stairs, tucking Chuuya back into his bed.

“I’ll explain everything in the morning. For now, you need sleep. You’re only human after all.”

Taking his Papa’s words to heart, Chuuya hugged Adam and let himself rest.

In the morning, he would realize just how much things had changed.

[vintagepresley]

It’s Austin’s yours first New Year’s Eve together..and he decides to be a little frisky about wanting to have sex with you..who’s still a virgin who is shy and innocent reader. Austin takes the whole day setting up the bedroom to make it perfect..yet your nervous about it scared all you want with Austin is gentle and passionate love/sex..while having sex he pulls out a few toys including handcuffs and your scared/nervous about it and you end up getting injured by accident..you wake up the next day with bruises and austin freaks out.

Thanks for the request! ❤️

New Years Eve was days away and Austin had spoken with you about what you guys may do. You weren't entirely sure what you wanted to do, but as long as you spent it with Austin you were happy. While talking about your possible plans, he brings up the topic of sex and hinting to the fact that knowing it was your first time that he wanted it to be special and thought that New Years Eve would be great because he could make it romantic and special. You were a bit hesitate about his idea because you just always got nervous even though you wanted more than anything to give yourself to him. After a moment of pondering over his request you finally agreed to the plans, more nervous than ever because you weren't sure what to expect, but it made you happy that he at least wanted to make to romantic and special for you. But now it was all you could think about as the days went on and you got closer and closer. But you trusted Austin and knew he'd be gentle with you.

So, that night while you were out buying a few things for New Years, he was at home getting everything ready, he had candles lit around his bedroom, decided to throw a few rose petals around the room and a scattered a bunch onto the bed, he was so excited because he wanted to be your first so bad and he had so many ideas and things he wanted to try, he had brought out a small suitcase that had a few toys in it that he wanted to introduce, but he hid it beside the bed not wanting to scare you he wanted to ease the idea into the sex, so he took a few things out and put them into his beside table. He hooked his phone up to the Bluetooth speaker and he played some music just to help set the mood, he knew you were on the way and he got a bit nervous now as he went back into the living room, anxiously waiting for you. You on your way to his house after you had gotten some wine, your nerves getting worse and worse.

You weren't sure what to wear for this special night but you wore a pretty gold sparkling dress for New Years of course, then underneath you had worn some lacy lingerie that you had bought specially for this and you had hoped Austin would like it. Once you got to his house you knocked on the door, exhaling softly. He smiled as he ran over to the door and when he saw you his eyes lit up at the sight of you, his eyes giving you once-over. "Wow, you look... beautiful.." he said softly. You giggled softly and blushed at his words as you smiled at the sight of him in his suit, biting down on your bottom lip. "Thank you. You look handsome, baby." you said with a grin. He gestured for you to come inside. You smiled and walked past him and he closed the door behind you and he went to take the wine and a few of the other things you bought. "I made us something to eat if you're hungry, baby." he said with smile. You were hungry but you were so nervous that you couldn't even eat. "I... um.. Can I be honest? I'm so nervous I don't think I can eat a thing.." you laughed softly.

He smiled at your words and he walked over to take your hands into his and he brought them up to his lips, kissing them softly. "Don't be nervous, babygirl. You know I wouldn't hurt you. Y'know we don't have to tonight if you're not ready." he nodded with a smile. You shook your head at his words. "No, I want to. I want to so bad.." you whispered. He let go of one of your hands and placed it against your face, brushing the pad of his thumb against your cheek. "You trust me, don't you?" he mumbled. You stared up at him, placing your hand over his. "Of course I do, honey." you hummed. He smiled. "C'mon, I wanna sure you something. He intertwined his fingers with yours as he lead the way to his bedroom. You followed behind him, raising an eyebrow curiously and as he brought you into the bedroom you could hear the music playing and the scent of the candles and you stepped inside, looking around and seeing all the rose petals, you smiled widely at him and how romantic it was that he got the whole room ready for this moment. "I.. I don't what to say, this is so beautiful. You did this for me?" you asked in disbelief because you weren't expecting him to do this. "Of course, baby. I want your first time to be special." he beamed.

You couldn't stop smiling and you tugged him into the room with you, shutting the door behind the two of you, slipping your arms around him as you leaned up to press a kiss to his lips. "This is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you." you whispered. He smiled widely, pecking your lips. "I'd do anything for you." he hummed. You knew in that moment that you were ready for sure and that this is what you wanted with then most sweetest guy. You slipped your purse off your shoulder and let it drop to the floor as you kissed him slowly, he pulled you firmly against him, running his hands up and down your body, his hands resting over your ass and giving it a squeeze. You pulled back from him with a smile. "I just need to freshen up a moment.." you said softly. He smiled and nodded at your words and you slipped out of his arms, walking to his bathroom and shutting the door behind you, taking a deep breath as you slipped your heels off and unzipped your dress, slipping out of it to reveal the black lace lingerie underneath that hugged every inch of your curves, fixing the garter belts that connected to the underwear and fixing yourself a bit in the mirror.

He was so excited that while you were in the bathroom he started to strip off his clothes until he was in his boxers and he sat down on the edge of the bed, waiting for you patiently. You exhaled sharply as you got one last look in the mirror before you opened the door and stood in the doorway of the bathroom, you caught his eye immediately and he swallowed harshly at the sight of you, his eyes fixating on the sexy lingerie you wore. "Holy..." he couldn't finish his sentence he was so shocked. "Do.. Do you like it?" you asked nervously, feeling a bit insecure. He stood up from the bed and he grinned widely at you. "Baby, I love it... Wow, you look so.. so sexy. You truly are perfect.." he hummed. You blushed so hard from his words. "Hush.." you giggled, walking toward him and slipping your arms around his shoulders, his hands glided slowly over the lingerie, his fingers tracing over the delicate fabric. You stared up at him as your fingers combed through his hair. "I'm.. ready." you whispered. He nodded, taking your hand and sitting you down on the bed. You scooted back again the bed and he slowly climbed on the bed behind you.

You inhaled sharply and exhaled through your nose to calm your nerves as you laid against the bed and he hovered above you, kissing your cheek and trailing his lips down along your neck and down toward your cheek his lips pressing against the fabric of your lingerie. You let out a soft gasp as your eyes watched him. His hands running up and down your body teasingly, the touch of his soft hands against your thighs brought a shiver down your spine and he ran his hands back up, pressing his body against yours as his lips devoured yours and you slipped your hands around his torso, as your legs spread open and he slipped between your thighs and they wrapped around his waist as you made out. "You sure you're ready?" he whispered on your lips. You nodded slowly, never being more sure of anything else. He smiled and he slipped his hands around to unhook your bra, slowly slipping it off of you, tossing it aside and he leaned down to press kisses against your breasts, his lips tracing over one of your nipples, you let out a soft gasp at the feeling.

He cupped your breasts in his hands, kneading and squeezing them in his hands as he buried his face between them, kissing over both of them a soft noise escaping you. Then his hands let them go and he ran them down to your panties, hooking his thumbs between the hem of them and tugging them down until he had them completely off, tossing them where your bra laid. He smiled at the sight of your exposed body, he couldn't stop thinking about how beautiful you were, but you were so shy that you couldn't help but squeeze your thighs shut. But he grabbed them and spread them apart. "Uh uh.. I wanna look at you.." he whispered. He had you blushing once again and he hovered back above you. You reached down to tug at his boxers and he smirked helping you get them off of him, he kicked them from around his ankles, and then grabbing your hands and pressing them against the bed firmly, so you were unable to touch him, he was being a bit rough and you were hoping for passionate and gentle love making.

He pressed his body against you and you could feel his hard cock just inches away from your pussy, you let out a whimper feeling how big his cock was and just the very feeling was enough to make you wet. He kissed and nibbled playfully at your neck and then he bit you and you let out a soft squeal. "Austin.." you whispered. "Sorry baby, I guess I'm just excited.." he mumbled. "It's okay.." you whispered. He reached down to wrap his hand around his cock gliding the tip between your folds that were soaking wet for him which caused your body to jolt from the feeling a soft whimper escaping you. "Mm, you're so wet already for me..." he hummed. He teased you some more with his cock and then you felt the head his cock press further between your folds and toward your entrance and since you were so nervous, it also made you tensed so when he tried to push his cock inside of you, you let out a soft whimper. He groaned quietly. "Baby, you gotta relax.. I-I can't get inside.." he mumbled. He lifted his hand up and sit into it hoping if he got his cock more wet he'd be able just to get the tip in enough to stretch you open.

He stroked his hand around the head of his cock, coating it with his spit so now your slick and his spit had his cock glistening. You took a deep breath and doing everything you could to relax. Now you felt him pushing his cock into you again, you hissed at the feeling of the head of his cock breaking through and he let out a loud groan. "Fuck.." he grunted. You whimpered to the point that it sounded like a soft cry. He lifted his head and stalled his movements, his fingers combing through your hair. "Are you okay, baby?" he asked quite concerned. You nodded as you pursed your lips shut for a moment. "Mhm.. Don't stop.." you mumbled softly, just wanting to get through the pain. He nodded and slowly pushed his hips forward, carefully pushing his cock in further until every inch of him was inside of you, a shaky whimper escaping your lips, your hands grasping onto him tight that your nails pierced his skin, his groans turned into loud moans feeling how wet and tight you were around his cock.

It felt so good that he knew he wouldn't be able to control himself or hold back, he began to thrust into you slowly, forcing his cock into you deep wanting to stretch you out around him, his hands that held onto your rest grew tighter and now they were planted firmly against the bed as he picked up the pace, slamming his hips into yours and you moaned loudly and whimpers followed right behind them, your head tilting back against the pillows as you shut your eyes tight as you fought through the pain and soon it would become pleasurable for you, but you didn't like how rough he was being. It wasn't what you expected, but it felt so good now that you didn't care. Once he realized that you were becoming more relaxed and you were so tensed that's when he wanted to mention some of his toys. He kissed along your face slowly up to your ear, his hips still moving against you as he fucked you slow now. He reached over to the bedside table, opening the draw and grabbing the handcuffs. You glanced over to see what he was grabbing and you furrowed your brow a bit.

"W-What's that for?" you whispered. He lifted his head to look at you. "I thought we'd make things a little interesting.. Is that okay?" he asked. "Uh, I-I guess..." you said a bit hesitantly, watching as he took your hands and handcuffed you to the bed post, you tugged at the cuffs a bit. Now he had completely stopped thrusting into you all together as he grabbed a pair of nipple clamps out of the drawer next and you gulped. The nipple clamps were bit different instead of two clamps there were there connected to the chain, you raised an eyebrow wondering where the third one went. This really wasn't what you expected. "You trust me still, right?" he asked. You hesitated and then nodded slowly, inhaling sharply. He took each clamp and carefully placed them around your nipples and the chain connected to the last clamp was long enough to reach down to your pussy, he pulled out of you for a moment, letting out a soft groan and then he spread your pussy open with two fingers, carefully clamping the last on around your clit, which caused you jolt and squirm around as you whimpered and let out a soft hiss, the coldness from the chains bringing a chill to your body and you were tugging at your restraints hard. He grabbed your hips to keep you still. "Shh, it's okay.. I promise I won't hurt you." he mumbled.

Then the next thing he grabbed out his bedside table was a vibrator. Your eyes widen at the sight of it. He smirked at the very sight of you, which only turned him on more. He switched the vibrator on and held it against your clit and you whimpered and moaned softly, each time you moved your breasts would bounce causing the clamp around your clit to tug and make those noises of yours louder. He held the vibrator on your clit as he slammed his cock back inside of you and he grabbed a hold of one your legs, gripping tight as he thrusted into you slow and hard. You were so overcome with the stimulation your eyes rolled back and your body convulsed and squirmed only causing you to tug at all of your restraints, which only caused pain when you did, Austin reached up to tug at the chain that sat between your breasts, the clamps tugging at your nipples roughly, his groans long and low as he fucked you and watched your body take so much pleasure he was giving you.

The vibrator resting right in between your folds and against your clit caused you to cry out in pleasure, even though this wasn't how you wanted your first time to go, it felt so good that you couldn't fight it. If it weren't for the pain of the clamps and the cuffs around your wrists you'd enjoy it more. Austin had picked up the pace and his cock was slamming against your walls stretching you open that your pussy became even wetter for him which each rough movement that he couldn't control himself because you felt so good around his cock and he needed more, as his hand continued to tug at he chain of your nipple clamps he wrapped his hand around your throat and he squeezed tight, practically having you gasp and your moans came out nearly muffled from how tight his hand was around your throat. He was fucking you so rough now it felt like he was going to tear you apart. The handcuffs rubbing so rough against your skin that it was leaving bruises. Your nipples becoming sore and bruised from his tugging and your sensitive clit ached.

All the while the little vibrator mixed with everything made it so enjoyable, he let go of the chain and your throat and grabbed your hips instead, squeezing them so tight in his large hands as he fucked you right into the mattress, your squealed loudly, your body moving roughly against the bed that you almost hit your head against the headboard. You tugged so hard on your cuffs that part of the bedpost fell off and hit you on the forehead, but Austin had seemed to notice as he was balls deep inside of you and his face buried into your neck, you winced in pain. He was groaning so loudly into your ear, feeling himself so close to the edge of cumming. Despite your little mishap with the bed post and being in pain you were also on the brink of having an orgasm with how overestimated you were that your body was nearly ready to give out on you, you moaned his name out softly. "A-Austin... I.. I.." but before you could even finish your sentence your felt your body was in a frenzy.

You knew you had cum but now there was a whole new feeling erupting, it felt like you had to pee but you didn't and before you could ponder the weird sensation even further your orgasm hit like a freight train and not only did you cum but you squirted all over him and the vibrator, he was so caught off guard by that, but it made him smirk to himself and the feeling off your fluids on him pushed him further into having his orgasm that before he could even think about pulling out he came deep inside of you, the warmth of his cum coating your insides the both of you moaning, panting and whimpering in pleasure, when he had finally came to a halt he tossed the vibrator to the floor and he unclamped you and removed the cuffs, tossing them all to the floor, you had instant relief when those dreadful things were removed and he took you into his embrace, kissing you sloppily and passionately, you cupped his face in your hands kissing him back and with all the adrenaline pumping through you, you hadn't notice how much pain you were in or the bruises that were going to be left behind.

"That was amazing.." he mumbled. You nodded in agreement, rubbing your hands along his back giving him another kiss before he moved off of you and laid beside you tiredly, pulling you into his arms as he held you, tugging the blankets over the two of you as you both were so exhausted from your wild first time, that you both ended up falling right to sleep. The next morning came rather quick and Austin woke up, rubbing his eyes gently and stretching his body out as he yawned, he glanced over at you to see you still asleep and he leaned over pressing kisses against your shoulder and he tugged the blanket down your body some, hoping you'd wake up because he was ready for some morning sex. But as he took another glanced he began to notice some of the bruises around your neck, your breasts, and your thighs, he happened to notice another bruise on your head. His eyes widen seeing what he had done and he didn't mean to be so rough with you, he shook you wake. You groaned groggily as you opened your eyes slowly. "W-What's going on?" you asked hoarsely as you went to move, it was quite painful because of how rough he was fucking you that even your pussy hurt.

You winched and hissed in pain as you moved again. "Oh god, baby, I'm so sorry! I-I didn't mean to be so rough.. I just wanted to have a little fun. Please forgive me.." he said frantically. Once you turned to lay on your back, letting out a soft groan as you rubbed your head where the bed post hit you. "Austin, honey, it-it's okay... I know you weren't purposely trying to hurt me. It's not what I expected for a first time, I'll admit, I thought you'd be more passionate and gentle..." you spoke softly. He was still freaking out, feeling so bad. "I'm so sorry, baby, I really am.. I hope I didn't ruin this for you." he panicked. You smiled at his words, hearing the sincerity in his voice. "Baby, it's okay, I'm okay. Yes, it wasn't what I expected, but I really had a fun time.. It felt good. It was certainly interesting way to ring in the new year." you laughed softly, tugging him down toward you to kiss his sweet lips, he kissed you back softly. Your lips hovering over his. "I promise I'm okay, baby." you whispered. He nodded, letting out a sigh of relief, but deciding he was going to do everything he could to make it up to you by pampering you the whole day.

**

I wasn't sure how to end this. BUT UMMM THIS GOT KINDA WILD. 😬 ENJOY.

@purejasmine

[gumnut-logic]

Cob didn’t know what to think.

The call had come in at a godawful hour. It was dark, drizzling snow, bloody cold, and Christmas Eve, to tick all the shitty boxes. But that meant nothing in the scheme of things other than he needed to move fast, get his team on the ground, and save as many people as they could.

Unfortunately, it was highly unlikely they would be fast enough, but they did their best.

It was their job.

Tonight it was up a mountain pass and, by the initial contact and estimates, an entire ski village had slid down into a valley. Cob expected grief and tears from the moment he’d triggered the alarm to drag fifty team members away from their families.

But he had not expected this.

When his helicopter swooped into the ravine, instead of the usual handful of survivors caught in their spots and the darkness of disaster, the scene was lit up with floodlights, and there was so much sound in the air, even over the ‘copter’s blades.

Mostly from the silver and blue rocket hovering above the slope, its own spotlights flaring from its midriff, combing the rubble.

Cob was feet first into the snow the moment he landed, and hurrying over to a huddle of people and stretchers. A woman in a blue uniform was directing a bunch of bedraggled civilians, and darting between patients.

“Who are you?” The words were out of his mouth before he could articulate. He had expected to be too late. These mountainous rescues were the worse, simply due to the factor of time.

The woman looked up, frowned, and hit an insignia on her white baldric. “Thunderbird One, emergency response is here.” She returned to her patient, grey hair falling across her features, and resumed her calm reassurance and first aid.

Behind him, Cob could hear his team landing, choppers darting into the small space long enough to drop equipment and personnel before leaping back into the dark sky to make room for the next craft. Several would head back to base and lug in more equipment.

But now he wasn’t sure it was needed.

A man wearing a jet pack, and a similar blue uniform to the medic, swooped across the scene and landed abruptly in front of Cob. “Are you the team leader?”

Cob nodded.

The man pulled off his helmet and offered Cob a hand. “Jeff Tracy, International Rescue.”

Cob was caught between the need for a sitrep followed by immediate action and the need to ask again the question of who the hell were these people?

He chose the most important direction. “Situation report?”

The man was professional, Cob had to admit that, as Tracy immediately gave him a concise rundown followed by suggestions where the most urgent needs lay.

International Rescue had been here over half an hour and had already pulled at least two dozen lives out of the rubble.

Cob received an accident analysis from an unfamiliar, young male voice on his communications network as he deployed his team. Groundwater was apparently to blame as the temperature while still cold, had been warmer than in the past. Warm enough to provide a destabilising and slick movement of slush and ice.

Enough to bring the mountainside down in the evening just as people were going to bed.

But Cob had little time to think further. A thorough accident investigation would be done later, his brain just pulling out the most immediate requirements for the rescue.

Most of which had already been met by this heavily equipped group of rescuers.

He found himself taking directions from Tracy.

Not so much orders, but the man was in the know and Cob was willing to use what information he could get in order to save all he could. This was a numbers game, time and lives. Everything became snow, rubble, obstacles and the target life signs.

Tracy wasn’t the only one who could fly across the scene. A younger version darted about, at one point with an unconscious child in his arms. The young man was dressed in a blue uniform similar, but different to Tracy’s, sporting a blue equipment baldric across his chest instead of the silver.

At another point, Cob had been calling for heavy lifting equipment to move part of a collapsed roof, when a man dressed in claws strode up the remains of the hillside.

He glanced at Cob and gave the signal to stand clear.

“Thunderbird Five, give me stress point markers, HUD, please.”

Cob stepped back, comms unit in his hands, as those claws reached into the rubble, clamped onto the load bearers, and lifted a chunk of the roof away.

Three terrified children, shivering in their pyjamas, stared out as the man’s shoulder mounted spot pierced the darkness below.

Cob didn’t have time to comment as he waved his team in to extract and attend to the kids.

They had just got them clear when the mountain decided it hadn’t finished ruining Christmas.

There was a yell over his comm unit and the ground beneath his feet began to move.

The rubble pile above them shifted, cracking and groaning.

It took Cob less than a second to calculate exactly what was about to happen and the fact the man standing next to him in his fancy claw suit holding a roof needed to…

“Move…now!”

The roof was dropped somewhat carefully but far too slowly. The moment it was down, Cob grabbed a reinforced arm and yanked.

Damn that thing was heavy and he thought he might not have enough to prevent the both of them being buried, but a hiss of hydraulics barely heard over the roar of the hell bearing down on them and they were in motion.

Cob did not let go of that arm.

His feet continued to slide, his boots buried in sludge, snow and pieces of people’s lives. The weight of the crab suit spun him around as the man slid further down the slope, dragging Cob with him as they both scrambled for purchase.

A grapple shot out from somewhere in the that suit but failed to grab onto anything.

Damn landslides and avalanches to hell.

Bloody Christmas Eve.

One hand full of robotic arm, he pivoted on that weight and flung the both of them across the mountain-side to an outcrop. His remaining free hand yanked out a safety piton and slammed it into solid rock.

It went off like a gunshot, the propellant firing and embedding itself deep, the line attached to it going taut and Cob’s safety harness catching their fall.

Cob’s grip on that arm tightened and for a moment became painful, before his fellow rescuer gained his own grip and took his own weight.

Cob still didn’t let go.

Debris rolled and settled on the slope; the pile just as ominous as before.

“Cob? Cob? Jacob! Report!” His second’s frantic voice bounced out of the unit on his hip.

Cob gave himself a moment for his heartbeat to catch up before sitting up in the dirty snow. He kept his eyes on his companion as he picked up his comm unit. “Keep your pants on, Sanders. Status is okay. Cob out.” He didn’t give her a chance to reply, more concerned with making sure he was telling the truth.

Unhooking himself, but attaching another emergency piton to his safety line just in case, he slid on his butt down the slope to the crab-suited man below.

He opened his mouth to ask his status when Tracy swooped in, uniform boots hitting the mountain side, silver baldric shining dully in the light from the downed man’s shoulder lamp.

“Virgil!”

“I’m okay, Dad. Scott! I’m fine!” That last appeared to be addressed to the world at large.

Tracy’s eyes combed his son (?) before turning to Cob. “Mr Winter?”

“Status okay.” He looked up at the man, into fiery grey eyes, that somehow knew his name. “We need new data.” He shoved himself to his feet and had to roll his shoulder. “Stress factors will have changed. Have we lost any targets?”

Have we lost any more lives?

“We are assessing now.” He paused as if listening, only to deflate a second later. “No, but speed is of the essence.”

He didn’t have to say more. Cob offered Virgil a hand and the man rolled to his feet with much more agility than that suit should have had.

“Thank you, Mr Winter.”

“Cob.” He held onto that hand, now out of its suit confines and found himself looking at a boy. Hell, this kid looked barely out of diapers. What was he doing out here?

But there was an assuredness to his stance and his blue uniform was fleshed out by working muscles.

The determination in his eyes was a living thing.

If anything, the boy reminded Cob of himself.

A long time ago.

“Look after yourself.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tracy’s eyes were darting between the two of them, an energy that reflected the situation had him rocking on his feet. “Time is short.”

“Yes, sir.” It would have been a repetition of the boy’s previous obedient reply, but this time it was directed at his father.

And echoed by Cob.

He shook it off and grabbed his comm unit. “Sanders, you better have a re-evaluated map of the debris.”

“Yes, Boss, sending to you now.”

Sanders knew what she was doing.

The data appeared on his display. The heartbeats had moved, but they were still beating.

“Okay. Let’s do this.”

-o-o-o-

It took hours.

He had expected no less. It was well into Christmas Day, the weak winter sun touching the valley and outlining the swath of destruction, before he called it.

But there was hope. They had saved many, life-flight choppers darting in and out of the danger zone in an almost continuous stream of effort. And they had every heartbeat in that pile of rubble, safe in medical hands.

The woman managing the medical tent didn’t bother to introduce herself, but she apparently answered to ‘Grandma’ and it became very clear that International Rescue was a family team.

Tracy was obviously the leader, with a team of two younger men, both barely out of boyhood, and an older man with a southern US accent and a litany of curses enough to match Cob’s lexicon. There might have been a pilot of that rocket that hovered above the scene providing backup the entire time, not to mention noise – it was living up to the big white letters down the length of it claiming it was a Thunderbird.

He could feel Tracy’s eyes on him for a good percentage of the rescue. He suspected that it was because the boy in the crab suit seemed to be following him around.

Not enough to compromise the rescue, otherwise Cob would have said something, but enough for him to be aware of eyes more than Tracy’s following him.

Who the hell were these people?

Regardless, they were good people. They rescued a rescue that would more likely have been a body recovery exercise if Cob’s team had been the only ones in attendance. Their speed of arrival, no doubt to do with that Thunderbird rocket, and their equipment was enviable.

As their tired team assembled for a quick debrief before handing over the site to the clean up crew, Cob found himself standing face to face with the rescue team leader.

With his helmet off, his greying hair was tangled in the cold air, and his breath fogging in front of him.

“Thank you for saving my son.” It was said solemnly but with emotion.

“Thank you for saving so many lives.” Cob shifted a step forward and finally asked the question that had been bugging him since he got here. “Now, tell me, who are you?”

Tracy smirked and grinned a tired smile. “We’re new. Apologies for the lack of introduction.”

“No, kidding, there were more important things to do. But I can see you have the equipment and expertise to make a serious difference. I’ve been at this job over twenty-five years and I’ve never seen such a fast and smooth operation with such a great outcome for this kind of situation. So, I ask again. Who are you?”

Tracy straightened. The man was very tall. Perhaps it was the morning light, the fact that one of his team flew in to land on his right, while another suddenly appeared on his left, perhaps it was the matching uniforms and the shared determination in their expressions…

Cob took a step back.

Tracy’s voice was deep. “We are International Rescue.”

Cob stared at him a moment. “Fine.” If they wanted to be all dramatic and mysterious, good for them. He was too tired. “Do you have a business card?”

It was Tracy’s turn to stare at him.

The southern-sounding guy on his left spoke up. “I told you we needed promotional collateral.” He elbowed Tracy and leant around him to address the guy on Tracy’s right. “Seymour, you get Vincent to whip something up when we get home.”

“Uncle Lee-“

Tracy rolled his eyes and pressed his lips together. “We’ll get back to you on that.”

He turned on his heel and the two men with him moved in sync, all three striding off towards the end of the valley where the rocket had finally settled several hours earlier.

“Mr Winter?” The voice was deep but tentative.

Cob turned to find crab boy, minus his pincers, standing behind him. There was no sign of the exo-suit and the kid had his helmet off. A mess of dark hair topped a pale face with equally dark eyes were done no favours by the dull reflection off his green baldric.

“What is it, kid?”

That steeled him up and Cob had to hide a smile. Worked every time.

“Sir, thank you for saving my life.”

“It’s my job.” Cob shifted where he stood. “Seems it’s yours, too.”

“Yeah. Um, I was wondering-“

Cob took a step closer. “Have you got yourself one of them rockets?”

He blinked. “Yeah.”

“Tell you what. You’re good, Virgil. You’ve got the skill set and the brain. That can’t be said for many, and those that don’t have it, don’t last long in this business.” He held out a copy of his card. Tracy may not have one, but Cob never left home without ID. “Next time you’re in town, drop by, and we’ll talk business.”

Those eyes widened. “Yes, sir!”

Cob snorted. “Now, go home, get cleaned up and sleep for a good dozen hours. God knows I need to.” A gentle clasp of his shoulder as he strode past. “Merry Christmas, kid.”

Virgil’s shoulder stiffened.

Cob couldn’t help but smile as he walked away.

-o-o-o-

[thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai]

Can You Hear My Heartbeat Chapter 32

Summary:

At the Cup of China, restraining his burning desire for Yuuri quickly becomes the least of Viktor's concerns. Being a coach and being taken seriously as a coach are two entirely different pairs of skates.

“Listen,” Viktor told the concierge with his most dazzling smile. “I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding. We’ve booked a double room, not a twin room.”

“Please wait. I’m rechecking your booking.” The concierge glanced at the key Viktor had put on the counter and typed the number into his computer. “Your booking is correct, Mr. Nikiforov. A double room for four nights.”

“The room you gave us is a twin room. With two small beds. We’ve booked a room with one large bed.”

The concierge’s face lit up. “Ah! Twin room!”

He’s confusing both terms, Viktor realised. He was displeased with the way the hotel was handling him and Yuuri albeit apparently by accident. He and Yuuri had tried to move the beds together first thing after their check-in. But the beds were installed on a wall panel. Why on earth would two adults book one room if they were not romantically involved? Did friends do such a thing?

“My most sincere apologies, Mr. Nikiforov, for assigning you and Mr. Katsuki the wrong room,” the concierge interrupted Viktor’s exasperated contemplation with a polite smile, but the way he avoided Viktor’s gaze spoke tales of his embarrassment.

“Can you assign us a double room?” After a six-hour flight with an intermediate stop in Taipei City and a total travel time of twelve hours from Hasetsu to Nikko New Century Hotel in Beijing, immediately followed by one hour of public practice in the Capital Indoor Stadium, Viktor’s patience had surrendered to hunger and exhaustion. “A room with one big bed,” he added to quell any further potential misunderstandings.

“Please wait. I’m checking the available rooms.” Again, the concierge typed into his computer. He frowned and Viktor’s heart sank. “I am sorry, Mr. Nikiforov. All rooms with big beds are taken.” He hesitated. “As this misunderstanding is on our side, we will reduce your bill to the difference in price.”

“This is very accommodating of you, but as the ISO is paying for our stay, that’s the least of my concerns. Mr. Katsuki is very dear to me. I need him well rested for the next two days, and I’m afraid that will only happen if he can sleep by my side as he is used to.” Viktor pulled a bunch of Yuan notes from his wallet and shoved them across the counter. “If there is any room fitting our parameters that might be available, I would be your most grateful guest and recommend this hotel to everyone in the figure skating community who happens to visit this city of historical significance.” He winked.

The concierge paled a little. “I am truly sorry, Mr. Nikiforov,” he said, glancing at the money. “We are booked up because of the Cup of China. As an apology, I will send a bottle of Duval-Leroy to your room.”

Viktor whistled quietly. “Yuuri!” he called across the lobby. “Wanna drink champagne tonight?”

[evelenlanterns]

River Incident(One brother returns)

It was dawn when a small group of trolls were rushing towards the entrance of the village. The bright lights of the village contrasted greatly with the dim warm colors of the sky that covered the village head to toe. It was unusually chilly that day despite it being in the middle of spring. Though to one of the group of rushing trolls it only made things inconvenient for the problem that they carried on their back. The problem being the a bloody unconscious troll that they had found in the river while just out and about on a evening walk. 'The cold weather was making their condition worse.' was what the troll that carried the bloody troll thought. As they could feel the injured troll shiver since the tattered cloak he wore didn't do him any good.

Along with hearing the shallow and desperate breaths of the troll behind her ear. It was obvious when they first found him slumped on the riffle of the river that the bloody troll was malnourished with how his face which should have been round was instead gaunt around his cheeks. But as she first carried him to now it somehow felt like they weighted more than that of an average troll. And she had been a caretaker since before the escape happened.

God she was getting old

Looking up she saw that she and her friends had finally gotten back to the village grounds. The cheerful mingling among the trolls near the entrance seemingly to stop abruptly. As they saw the bloody body of a pink haired troll with white roots hoisted upon her back. The panicked questions of the trolls around her began to blur as they seem to just be asking the same variations of questions.

"Who is that troll?!"

"What happened!? Did you find them like this?!"

"Someone get king Peppy!"

"WHY IS THERE SO MUCH BLOOD?!"

"Do you even know who they are?"

That last question seemed to tick her off more than it should've. Does it look like I know him!?

Grunting in annoyance, she shoved pass the growing crowd careful not cause the troll on her back anymore pain that they were in. Feeling them starting to move their head about slowly growing aware of where they were. Rushing through the village until she could find the medic pod. Her thoughts went back to how they even got to this situation in the first place. It was just supposed to be a calming walk with her close friends before the twelfth anniversary escape party that princess Poppy was hosting tonight. Just when they were ready to head back they stopped by a river to have drink only to met with a bloody troll who's skin and hair akin to that of an old trolls corpse showed from a casket.

As she got closer to the medical pod could see small crowd of children playing. Along with princess Poppy seemingly trying to give yet another invitation to the that grey troll she often saw on her walks through the forest. 'Branch' her memory supplied her. Though by the time she came running in they were already looking at the bloody pile of a troll on her back with horrified faces. Branch in particular looked to be the most distraught of all.

'Well shit looks like also traumatized a bunch of kids and probably caused Branch to go on another paranoid streak, damn it I forgot that the medical pod is also near the school one since they get into so many accidents.'

Passing through the bewildered group of children, princess Poppy and Branch. Finally making to the medical pod where the trolls working there taking action as soon as she stepped in. Having a moment to catch he breath she felt a wave of exhaustion go through her. Then she heard quite shuffling behind her. There she met the wide pupils of the Branch who looked upon bloody body of the pink haired troll laying on the nearest bed with wide eyes. His lip parting in and out then saying something that only she could hear from her proximity to him

"Floyd....?"

[ofallthingsnasty]

Oooh ok lemme tell you my lil yandere Aizawa thoughts? Bc why not, they've been bouncing around my head for a moment?

But he doesn't even realize how far he's fallen for them until shit hits the fan? I'm thinking the darling is a barista at a 24hr coffee shop, someplace he frequents on his night patrol? It sorta started out as something normal, just a dude getting his coffee. It slowly turns into him taking his breaks there at the coffee shop, grabbing something to eat the chat more with the barista. They're just so chatty because quite frankly he's the only person that's been in at this hour and they're bored.

So it turns into a nightly ritual where they both sit in a booth snarking away at this or that because theyve both sorta got the same sense of weird humor. Aizawa doesn't even realize he's falling for them even when he's causally thinking "oh I wonder if y/n likes this sort of takeout? Maybe I could bring it tonight". He doesn't even realize subconsciously he doesn't even both going to that coffee shop on the nights they have off.

Course bad guys come in; maybe they're connected with a case Aizawa is behind, or maybe the darling is just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But he comes in for his nightly (not a date) coffee and sees the place trashed and sorta just goes on a rampage. These bad guys didn't think a pro would be anywhere near the scene anytime soon so their trails pretty fresh.

And after taking down this entire gang he find his darling tied up, gaged and blindfolded in one of those heavy duty dog cages, and he's just stuck staring because there you are. He was so scared that he wouldn't be in time to save you. In fact, he didn't even call in the incident in the first place, he just reacted.

To him, you look so small, curled in on yourself as much as you can in this cage. And he just sorta reacts? Picks up the cage and gets outta there, just leaving behind a bunch of bodies for some poor idiot to find another day.

And like. When he gets you home, it's not. Immediately he takes you out, no he's got to prepare a little bit? In fact, the thought of you needing his protection had crossed his mind, but never to this extent. So it's a cobbled together "bedroom" for you. He takes his bed and anything he thinks you might like that he has on hand and shoves it in the basement that he's never used. And only then hes starting to "unlock" that cage for you. Really just putting on a show of unlocking it so you know someone's there again.

When he reaches for you, whenever you feel the touch of a hand your jerking back and forth wildly, scared out of your mind, but it's not too much a deterant as he just pulls you out before slipping of your blindfold. Oh if he hadn't been in love before he would have fallen for you again in that moment, your eyes so scared before melting into heartbreaking relief at the sight of him. Your sob and throw yourself into his chest and he just pulls you in and strokes your hair.

He hasn't even untied you, and your sobs and muffled by the fabric tied in your mouth, but your too far gone to recognize anything but a hero in front of you and he just holds you as your shaking starts to calm down. He's heart breaks when you start chanting garbled thank yous into his chest. It's not for a moment until you've calmed down enough for him to untie you fully, and your practically limp in his arms.

From there, it's so easy for him to convince you that you were being targeted; that you needed to stay with him for your own protection. Your eating up his lies with full acceptance, nodding along that of course you'd stay.

And you do, unquestionably. At first. But by the time you start to catch onto things he's had all the time he's needed to fully lockdown and stafeguard your home. You never even fully suspected something amiss until the basement door that had been unlocked your entire stay is suddenly locked. You think it's just an accident so when Aizawa comes down to sit you gently on the bed to explain things have changed a bit (for the better he says, for your protection he says) you think he's joking until your cuffed to the bed as he goes about the final renovations to your prison cell, ones too obvious to get by under your nose.

And he's just so gentle the entire time, he's planned for this. Your acting logically, like a kitten in a new home. Of course everything is scary and new. But it's fine, you'll both be happy soon. He'll make sure of it.

Oops I wrote a lot my baddddd, plus it's late AF for me so like. This is definitely smth that's a train of thought vs actually thought out ppft

Tell me what u think?

Oh… this is so soft, omg 🥺 thank you for this - I swear I got a little teary when reader hugged him 😭 This is just.. the perfect yandere. Good intentions but still incredibly possessive. I don't even know what else to add to this, but I really loved the kitten motif here 👀

How terrible that must have been for him - he nearly got his heart ripped out of his chest, nearly lost you. Can you blame for never wanting to let go of you ever again? You’ve been hurt like this once, who is to say it won’t happen again? He can barely stand your tears and begging once you catch on what he’s been doing, really, it breaks something deep within him. And he understands, knows that this shouldn’t be the solution but he can’t help himself. He really tries to make the transition to living with him easier - he’ll get you a few books of authors you enjoy, some supplies for crafts you like, small trinkets to hold onto. And he’s patient. So incredibly patient with you. Never punishes you when you slap him, bite him, try to scratch your way out of his arms (because that’s what you do with feral kittens, right? Just shower them with love until they learn to accept and enjoy it.) He misses your old self, those careless nights and late coffees and the conversations - he wants those back, desperately so, but life isn’t fair. Some day you’ll be as carefree as before but for now keeping you safe is his top priority. But I think with time, he learns to enjoy the new power dynamic as well. It feels good to protect you like that, to be able to ensure you’re completely safe. Confusing, isn’t it? On one hand he wants to go back, on the other you’re cute like this, too. Maybe he can have both. Maybe he can put you in adorable little outfits and come home to a warm meal after a hard day at work, maybe you can laugh and talk over dinner and he can he have you underneath him, absolutely wrecking you. Also, you can't tell me he wouldn't get a little... freaky with it. He's a grown man, he has pined after you for so long, he has developed some urges as well. He has a penchant for the cuter, simpler things in life and putting you in a little frilly collar in your favorite color? God, he mentally sheds a tear when he makes you put it on for the first time. It fits you, he thinks - you're feisty yet so delicate when compared to him. He really has found his perfect match and he's never letting go of you.

[tagsecretsanta]

From @gumnut-logic

From and by @gumnut-logic for @tikatu 

Could someone please advise @tikatu that their gift is here. Tumblr is refusing to tag them.

...

My prompts:

Something from Brains's POV (in 1st person). 

A rescue from a rescue worker's POV. (Any service. forest ranger, National Guard, firefighter, police are suggestions.)

Something showcasing the Mechanic after being freed from the Hood.

I ran with one of them. I’ll let you guess which :D 

I’m also extremely excited that this year I actually finished my fic to the deadline! First time in three years! Only done that once before, so this is some kind of miracle. Although I have to say, there is plenty more that could be written following this fic :D

I hope you enjoy this and have a fantastic festive season.

-o-o-o-

Cob

Cob didn’t know what to think.

The call had come in at a godawful hour. It was dark, drizzling snow, bloody cold, and Christmas Eve, to tick all the shitty boxes. But that meant nothing in the scheme of things other than he needed to move fast, get his team on the ground, and save as many people as they could.

Unfortunately, it was highly unlikely they would be fast enough, but they did their best.

It was their job.

Tonight it was up a mountain pass and, by the initial contact and estimates, an entire ski village had slid down into a valley. Cob expected grief and tears from the moment he’d triggered the alarm to drag fifty team members away from their families.

But he had not expected this.

When his helicopter swooped into the ravine, instead of the usual handful of survivors caught in their spots and the darkness of disaster, the scene was lit up with floodlights, and there was so much sound in the air, even over the ‘copter’s blades.

Mostly from the silver and blue rocket hovering above the slope, its own spotlights flaring from its midriff, combing the rubble.

Cob was feet first into the snow the moment he landed, and hurrying over to a huddle of people and stretchers. A woman in a blue uniform was directing a bunch of bedraggled civilians, and darting between patients.

“Who are you?” The words were out of his mouth before he could articulate. He had expected to be too late. These mountainous rescues were the worse, simply due to the factor of time.

The woman looked up, frowned, and hit an insignia on her white baldric. “Thunderbird One, emergency response is here.” She returned to her patient, grey hair falling across her features, and resumed her calm reassurance and first aid.

Behind him, Cob could hear his team landing, choppers darting into the small space long enough to drop equipment and personnel before leaping back into the dark sky to make room for the next craft. Several would head back to base and lug in more equipment.

But now he wasn’t sure it was needed.

A man wearing a jet pack, and a similar blue uniform to the medic, swooped across the scene and landed abruptly in front of Cob. “Are you the team leader?”

Cob nodded.

The man pulled off his helmet and offered Cob a hand. “Jeff Tracy, International Rescue.”

Cob was caught between the need for a sitrep followed by immediate action and the need to ask again the question of who the hell were these people?

He chose the most important direction. “Situation report?”

The man was professional, Cob had to admit that, as Tracy immediately gave him a concise rundown followed by suggestions where the most urgent needs lay.

International Rescue had been here over half an hour and had already pulled at least two dozen lives out of the rubble.

Cob received an accident analysis from an unfamiliar, young male voice on his communications network as he deployed his team. Groundwater was apparently to blame as the temperature while still cold, had been warmer than in the past. Warm enough to provide a destabilising and slick movement of slush and ice.

Enough to bring the mountainside down in the evening just as people were going to bed.

But Cob had little time to think further. A thorough accident investigation would be done later, his brain just pulling out the most immediate requirements for the rescue.

Most of which had already been met by this heavily equipped group of rescuers.

He found himself taking directions from Tracy.

Not so much orders, but the man was in the know and Cob was willing to use what information he could get in order to save all he could. This was a numbers game, time and lives. Everything became snow, rubble, obstacles and the target life signs.

Tracy wasn’t the only one who could fly across the scene. A younger version darted about, at one point with an unconscious child in his arms. The young man was dressed in a blue uniform similar, but different to Tracy’s, sporting a blue equipment baldric across his chest instead of the silver.

At another point, Cob had been calling for heavy lifting equipment to move part of a collapsed roof, when a man dressed in claws strode up the remains of the hillside.

He glanced at Cob and gave the signal to stand clear.

“Thunderbird Five, give me stress point markers, HUD, please.”

Cob stepped back, comms unit in his hands, as those claws reached into the rubble, clamped onto the load bearers, and lifted a chunk of the roof away.

Three terrified children, shivering in their pyjamas, stared out as the man’s shoulder mounted spot pierced the darkness below.

Cob didn’t have time to comment as he waved his team in to extract and attend to the kids.

They had just got them clear when the mountain decided it hadn’t finished ruining Christmas.

There was a yell over his comm unit and the ground beneath his feet began to move.

The rubble pile above them shifted, cracking and groaning.

It took Cob less than a second to calculate exactly what was about to happen and the fact the man standing next to him in his fancy claw suit holding a roof needed to…

“Move…now!”

The roof was dropped somewhat carefully but far too slowly. The moment it was down, Cob grabbed a reinforced arm and yanked.

Damn that thing was heavy and he thought he might not have enough to prevent the both of them being buried, but a hiss of hydraulics barely heard over the roar of the hell bearing down on them and they were in motion.

Cob did not let go of that arm.

His feet continued to slide, his boots buried in sludge, snow and pieces of people’s lives. The weight of the crab suit spun him around as the man slid further down the slope, dragging Cob with him as they both scrambled for purchase.

A grapple shot out from somewhere in the that suit but failed to grab onto anything.

Damn landslides and avalanches to hell.

Bloody Christmas Eve.

One hand full of robotic arm, he pivoted on that weight and flung the both of them across the mountain-side to an outcrop. His remaining free hand yanked out a safety piton and slammed it into solid rock.

It went off like a gunshot, the propellant firing and embedding itself deep, the line attached to it going taut and Cob’s safety harness catching their fall.

Cob’s grip on that arm tightened and for a moment became painful, before his fellow rescuer gained his own grip and took his own weight.

Cob still didn’t let go.

Debris rolled and settled on the slope; the pile just as ominous as before.

“Cob? Cob? Jacob! Report!” His second’s frantic voice bounced out of the unit on his hip.

Cob gave himself a moment for his heartbeat to catch up before sitting up in the dirty snow. He kept his eyes on his companion as he picked up his comm unit. “Keep your pants on, Sanders. Status is okay. Cob out.” He didn’t give her a chance to reply, more concerned with making sure he was telling the truth.

Unhooking himself, but attaching another emergency piton to his safety line just in case, he slid on his butt down the slope to the crab-suited man below.

He opened his mouth to ask his status when Tracy swooped in, uniform boots hitting the mountain side, silver baldric shining dully in the light from the downed man’s shoulder lamp.

“Virgil!”

“I’m okay, Dad. Scott! I’m fine!” That last appeared to be addressed to the world at large.

Tracy’s eyes combed his son (?) before turning to Cob. “Mr Winter?”

“Status okay.” He looked up at the man, into fiery grey eyes, that somehow knew his name. “We need new data.” He shoved himself to his feet and had to roll his shoulder. “Stress factors will have changed. Have we lost any targets?”

Have we lost any more lives?

“We are assessing now.” He paused as if listening, only to deflate a second later. “No, but speed is of the essence.”

He didn’t have to say more. Cob offered Virgil a hand and the man rolled to his feet with much more agility than that suit should have had.

“Thank you, Mr Winter.”

“Cob.” He held onto that hand, now out of its suit confines and found himself looking at a boy. Hell, this kid looked barely out of diapers. What was he doing out here?

But there was an assuredness to his stance and his blue uniform was fleshed out by working muscles.

The determination in his eyes was a living thing.

If anything, the boy reminded Cob of himself.

A long time ago.

“Look after yourself.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tracy’s eyes were darting between the two of them, an energy that reflected the situation had him rocking on his feet. “Time is short.”

“Yes, sir.” It would have been a repetition of the boy’s previous obedient reply, but this time it was directed at his father.

And echoed by Cob.

He shook it off and grabbed his comm unit. “Sanders, you better have a re-evaluated map of the debris.”

“Yes, Boss, sending to you now.”

Sanders knew what she was doing.

The data appeared on his display. The heartbeats had moved, but they were still beating.

“Okay. Let’s do this.”

-o-o-o-

It took hours.

He had expected no less. It was well into Christmas Day, the weak winter sun touching the valley and outlining the swath of destruction, before he called it.

But there was hope. They had saved many, life-flight choppers darting in and out of the danger zone in an almost continuous stream of effort. And they had every heartbeat in that pile of rubble, safe in medical hands.

The woman managing the medical tent didn’t bother to introduce herself, but she apparently answered to ‘Grandma’ and it became very clear that International Rescue was a family team.

Tracy was obviously the leader, with a team of two younger men, both barely out of boyhood, and an older man with a southern US accent and a litany of curses enough to match Cob’s lexicon. There might have been a pilot of that rocket that hovered above the scene providing backup the entire time, not to mention noise – it was living up to the big white letters down the length of it claiming it was a Thunderbird.

He could feel Tracy’s eyes on him for a good percentage of the rescue. He suspected that it was because the boy in the crab suit seemed to be following him around.

Not enough to compromise the rescue, otherwise Cob would have said something, but enough for him to be aware of eyes more than Tracy’s following him.

Who the hell were these people?

Regardless, they were good people. They rescued a rescue that would more likely have been a body recovery exercise if Cob’s team had been the only ones in attendance. Their speed of arrival, no doubt to do with that Thunderbird rocket, and their equipment was enviable.

As their tired team assembled for a quick debrief before handing over the site to the clean up crew, Cob found himself standing face to face with the rescue team leader.

With his helmet off, his greying hair was tangled in the cold air, and his breath fogging in front of him.

“Thank you for saving my son.” It was said solemnly but with emotion.

“Thank you for saving so many lives.” Cob shifted a step forward and finally asked the question that had been bugging him since he got here. “Now, tell me, who are you?”

Tracy smirked and grinned a tired smile. “We’re new. Apologies for the lack of introduction.”

“No, kidding, there were more important things to do. But I can see you have the equipment and expertise to make a serious difference. I’ve been at this job over twenty-five years and I’ve never seen such a fast and smooth operation with such a great outcome for this kind of situation. So, I ask again. Who are you?”

Tracy straightened. The man was very tall. Perhaps it was the morning light, the fact that one of his team flew in to land on his right, while another suddenly appeared on his left, perhaps it was the matching uniforms and the shared determination in their expressions…

Cob took a step back.

Tracy’s voice was deep. “We are International Rescue.”

Cob stared at him a moment. “Fine.” If they wanted to be all dramatic and mysterious, good for them. He was too tired. “Do you have a business card?”

It was Tracy’s turn to stare at him.

The southern-sounding guy on his left spoke up. “I told you we needed promotional collateral.” He elbowed Tracy and leant around him to address the guy on Tracy’s right. “Seymour, you get Vincent to whip something up when we get home.”

“Uncle Lee-“

Tracy rolled his eyes and pressed his lips together. “We’ll get back to you on that.”

He turned on his heel and the two men with him moved in sync, all three striding off towards the end of the valley where the rocket had finally settled several hours earlier.

“Mr Winter?” The voice was deep but tentative.

Cob turned to find crab boy, minus his pincers, standing behind him. There was no sign of the exo-suit and the kid had his helmet off. A mess of dark hair topped a pale face with equally dark eyes were done no favours by the dull reflection off his green baldric.

“What is it, kid?”

That steeled him up and Cob had to hide a smile. Worked every time.

“Sir, thank you for saving my life.”

“It’s my job.” Cob shifted where he stood. “Seems it’s yours, too.”

“Yeah. Um, I was wondering-“

Cob took a step closer. “Have you got yourself one of them rockets?”

He blinked. “Yeah.”

“Tell you what. You’re good, Virgil. You’ve got the skill set and the brain. That can’t be said for many, and those that don’t have it, don’t last long in this business.” He held out a copy of his card. Tracy may not have one, but Cob never left home without ID. “Next time you’re in town, drop by, and we’ll talk business.”

Those eyes widened. “Yes, sir!”

Cob snorted. “Now, go home, get cleaned up and sleep for a good dozen hours. God knows I need to.” A gentle clasp of his shoulder as he strode past. “Merry Christmas, kid.”

Virgil’s shoulder stiffened.

Cob couldn’t help but smile as he walked away.

-o-o-o-

[maple-writes]

Trying to get back into the vibe of writing for the city of eventide and ended up with a kind of sad one.

--

Right, Ember was gone. For the week anyway, out again at sea until Sunday night at least. I stood in the doorway, dropped my bag and kicked off my shoes and tried to ignore the weight settling in my chest. She might not even come back on Sunday. She might be spending the night with Jess instead. It wouldn’t be the first time.

The kitchen light glowed soft in the dark, warm from old incandescent bulbs and silent besides the cupboards creaking every so slightly by my hand. Striker was busy too this week, at least the next few days. He and Kyra were getting away and they took Argent with them. She would have fun, probably. But it would be quiet around here. Too quiet.

My pot of water boiled slowly, gradually breaking up the outline of my reflection as bubbles started small and grew to break the still surface. Cirrus hadn’t been around for a while now. When was the last time I saw him? It had to be back in the spring when he’d come for the wedding. Had it really been that long? The days had been growing shorter for months now and he hadn’t made his way back since. I swallowed, gripping the edge of the counter and staring into the rolling boil. He… He hadn’t forgotten about me had he? Right?

No, he was probably busy. I didn’t know what he had to contend with when he was away or what he had to do in order to sneak away just for me. I… I wasn’t part of his every day life anymore. Not since he went home, wherever that really was. He used to visit more often though.

I turned off the stove and grabbed my jacket from the hallway.

--

It was cold at the beach but then again what had I expected? Fridged waves crashed on the fine pebbled shore, pushed by the bitter wind blowing from far out to sea. I bunched my shoulders and kept my hands deep in my pockets. Rocks shifted under my feet as I walked step by step along the water. Overhead clouds raced scattered across the night sky. Stars poked out between them for only brief seconds before the next blocked the sky once again.

Farther from the parking lot trees creaked and swayed in the wind, shuddering where they grew up past the highest tidal line. Cones and needles rained down wherever the wind took them, carried away across the littered ground. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to come here, tonight, when the trees groaned louder then they should and no one would know I was gone for days at least. Well, maybe someone would notice if I didn’t show up to work. Probably. But would anyone do anything? Would anyone know what to do?

The beach curved and I stopped. Ahead the bluff rose out from the beach, built on a vein of rock harder than that which eroded around it over years and years. Bare rock at the tip shone wet in the patchy moonlight. The grass I killed didn’t have a chance to grow back. The soil it held together washed away in the winter’s storms leaving barren granite where patches of moss had only just started to creep up onto again. It hadn’t recovered like the lake in the woods. It stood scarred even still. Trees once made their way near all the way to the lookout but not anymore. The grass gone, the soil eroded, and the soil eroded left nothing for their roots. Even those which survived grew bent now, no longer shielded from the brunt of the gusts buffeting from the sea.

Sometimes Striker still couldn’t look me in the eye.

I swallowed, my throat tight. On stormy days and windy nights he was still distant. Cancelled plans, shortened conversations, hesitant touch… He never used to carry an umbrella with him and now he rarely left home without one at least tucked away in his car. It was hard not to notice the worried, knowing glances Kyra cast his way if I accidentally raised my voice just a little, be it in excitement or accident.

He'd never gone away for his birthday before either. Their trip hadn’t seemed to be just for that but he wouldn’t be here for it coincidence or not.

A gust of wind cut through my jacket and I shrunk, bracing myself against the cold that bit at my cheeks. Salt air pulled at my hair and ocean damp seeped through to my bones. What did I hope would happen by coming here? I forced my eyes away from the bluff and out to the dark ocean horizon, squinting against the winds. There was nothing for me here, not tonight. There would be no one here to find me, to bring me back home and why would they? I’d done enough to everyone already. They shouldn’t have to look after me too.

It was probably a good thing Argent went with Striker and Kyra. If she followed me out here tonight… Would I be able to hold her off? Would I be able to contend with her tonight or would I let her win? Would I let her thirst for guilt and shame take me alive?

Maybe, did I deserve it? At least a little bit? Maybe she had a point…

No. I shook my head out and turned around. I couldn’t afford to start thinking believing her, for both our sakes. Shivering I walked back the way I came with the bluff at my back, burning into my shoulders as if staring me down. It knew what I did. The rocks and long-lived trees would know what I did as long as they existed in this world. They knew. Striker knew. Everyone close to me knew and would never forget what I did to them.

They didn’t need me anymore either, did they? Ember had Jess, Striker had Kyra, Cirrus had his old life back… Argent, she didn’t really need me either did she? Ginger could probably help her better than I could, or would know someone. Striker seemed to like having her around too. She could probably stay with him if she needed to, if anything were to happen to me but then again would it be fair? Striker more than spend his share of time looking after people like her, like me.

My car was still the only one in the lot parked off to the side. Few other cars joined me on the road home either, alone under the pattern of glowing streetlights shining as if there only for me tonight. The door echoed when it closed on the quiet street, my footsteps joined only by the scurried rummaging of a racoon rustling hedges in the alley. Footsteps on the cement stairs to the basement door echoed hollow besides the jingling of my keys. The lock turned with my key but I paused before opening the door.

A perfect white moon snail shell sat placed in the center of my doormat.

My eyes watered when I picked it up and brought it inside, holding it close and only setting it down beside my alarm clock when I finally went to sleep.

[i-am-distressed]

JJK Boys getting accidentally flashed by their Girlfriend

Characters: Megumi, Itadori, Yuta, Noritoshi, Nanami, Toji, Naoya, Geto, Gojo, and Sukuna

Warnings: Implied 'nudity' cause, y'know, getting flashed. Naoya + Sukuna, Yuta’s turned out very detailed and warning for his cause curses are gross, mentions of injuries/implied blood, Noritoshi’s is eXTREMEly self-indulgent, allusion to sex in Toji’s and Sukuna’s but nothing explicit or suggestive (obviously), you guys are married in Toji’s, Naoya’s and Sukuna’s. Kids in Naoya’s, cursing in Sukuna's but I 'censored' it :)

**I write Naoya and Sukuna with some necessary changes, please hold your judgement☺ These are long but give it a chance-**

Fushiguro Megumi:

Due to his job as a student/Jujutsu Sorcerer, Megumi was usually pretty tired when you guys got to hang out.

So, the first thing you guys typically did when you met up after school was nap for a good hour or two.

Which worked out well for both of you since he finally got some rest and you got cuddles and a chance to play with his hair.

On this particular afternoon, Megumi had basically crashed the minute he hit the bed, you not far behind to lay on his chest while he zonked out on his back.

It had been just about 2 hours when he woke up, one hand going up to rub his eyes while his other arm wrapped around you to hold you tight.

You smiled when you felt him moving, turning ever so slightly to give him a small peck on his shoulder.

He smiled and turned to look at you, only to see that while he was sleeping you had changed into a loose tank top. A loose tank top that had...shifted, to give your boyfriend a view you had not intended to give him.

He was so flustered he didn’t realize how red the tips of his ears had gotten and how wide his eyes had gotten, not to mention the fact he hadn’t said a word.

Thinking he had fallen back asleep, you looked up only to see your boyfriend seemingly stuck in time as he looked at something.

Following his gaze you gasped, rushing to fix your shirt.

That seemed to snap Megumi out of his daze, that and your non-menacing ‘pervert’ you muttered, it’s not like you really cared (you were more embarrassed than anything) but the opportunity to tease was much too good to pass up.

“I- hEy! It wasn’t on purpose! You’re the one that flashed me…”

“I don’t know Megumi...you were awfully quiet for awhile there, didn’t even warn me😔”

You may or may not have gotten hit with a pillow following that remark.

Itadori Yuji:

You and your boyfriend Yuji were celebrating your two year anniversary, and this year you had both decided on going to an amusement park!

It was a pretty hot day, and you’d be walking a lot so you decided on a cute loose t-shirt and shorts and some walking shoes.

You guys had just gotten on this rollercoaster, and from the looks of it this one was going to be fast.

The ticking as you went up the first and very tall hill did nothing to quell the excitement/fear you were feeling, and it also did nothing to keep you from taking your boyfriends hand in yours.

After that first drop, it wasn’t too bad! But it was definitely on the faster side.

You guys were almost done, the end was in sight.

You turned to ask Yuji what ride you should do next when one sharp turn caught you off guard and flipped your shirt up into your face.

Right when Yuji had just so happened to have turned to talk to you.

Trying to ignore the utter shame you felt you tried to fix your shirt, your boyfriend then leaned over you to stop anyone from getting a peak as the car pulled back to the start.

You felt so embarrassed after it, but when you tried to apologize he just shook his head, gave you a kiss on your cheek and grabbed your hand to drag you off to the next ride.

Okkotsu Yuta:

**Unlike the others, this happened before the two of you started dating, you were still just really good friends**

You and Yuta had been sent out on a mission together.

You were a little nervous since it would be your first time going against a special grade, but you were confident you’d be able to do your part. Plus, having Yuta there was helpful in more ways than just his power.

The fight was a tough one, this curse you guys were fighting kept breaking the ground and shooting debris everywhere, it was easily blockable and it really wasn’t that dangerous.

But it did prove irritating.

Along with making tears everywhere in your jacket and skirt, you had been left with no choice but to kill the curse when it was up close and personal, so you were also covered in gross stuff.

To keep yourself from throwing up then and there, you unbuttoned your top and shrugged it off your shoulders, wincing at the cuts that had amassed during the fight.

You planned to quickly exchange it with the spare you kept in your bag, the debris had caused a bunch of dust which was acting like a curtain to shield your half-naked self from the eyes of the world.

But most importantly, from the eyes of your crush.

Unfortunately for you, your bag had gotten caught under a somewhat heavy piece of concrete.

Which would be no problem for you to lift if you hadn’t run through a fair amount of your cursed energy.

In your exhaustion, you must have made your struggle known with the grunts and obvious sounds of struggle you were making.

Yuta, who had a radar for you on anyway, heard this and started making his way over to you since he’s a considerate lad and you could be hurt!

You had just gotten it off the ground when it finally shifted enough for you to get your bag out, and you, being ever so coordinated, stumbled backwards.

Right into the open arms of Yuta, who immediately went red when he realized you were no longer wearing a shirt.

His jaw dropped as he tried to form a sentence, say something, anything to make sure you knew it was an accident.

Poor guy was so scared you thought he was a creep, he couldn’t look you in the eyes for almost 3 days.

That is until Maki locked you both in a room until one of you confessed💖

Kamo Noritoshi:

(This one may or may not be self-indulgent since I’m a clutz-)

You and Noritoshi had been sent to get something from the principal’s office by Utahime.

You were walking in front of him, paying little to no attention as to where you were walking as Noritoshi lost years off his life watching you stumble and almost trip.

So, okay, maybe you were a little bit clumsy, so what?

“Y/n, would you please be more careful? You’re going to fall.”

You turned your head to look at your boyfriend with an unimpressed look on your face, continuing to walk as he was even more on edge now that you definitely weren’t looking where you were going.

“Have a little faith in me, would you? I’m not that clumsy-” Just then, your foot caught a root perfectly, resulting in an untimely fall to the ground.

Which, thanks to years of falling face-first, you were more than prepared for.

Noritoshi, who felt his heart stop, quickly went to aid you, only to realize that your skirt had shifted with your fall, leaving you partly exposed to the world.

Partly exposed to him.

He quickly made his way to your side, helping you up as you laughed and dusted yourself off, noting the quietness of your boyfriend.

Usually when this happened, and he was quiet, you’d be in for a lecture.

But this time you noticed he was quiet...but he was also blushing.

You guys continued walking, you definitely weren’t complaining about not being told off, but you weren’t a fan of his silence. And...since when did Mr. Blood manipulation blush…?

“No lecture today?”

Noritoshi, who had been very deep in thought almost jumped at your voice, huffing as he tilted his head downward and picked up his pace a little.

“No tights today?”

You stopped at that because...he typically didn’t care what you wore, he was actually pretty laid-back except when it came to your safety.

“It’s August...so no?”

“Then i’d recommend you be a little more careful, had it been somebody else walking behind you, they would have seen something they shouldn’t have.” Your eyes narrowed at his words because...what was he talking about??

Sensing your confusion he turned towards you, eyes cracked open and a small smirk on his face. Leaning in close, he whispered.

“When you fell, your skirt lifted.”

And proceeded to walk ahead and into the principal’s office, leaving you in a whirlwind of emotions with no idea how to process them.

Nanami Kento:

You were over at Nanami’s place, in his kitchen cooking dinner with him.

You guys didn’t get to have dates often, but thankfully you guys both had tonight free. And seeing as you both have been busy, a home-date sounded nice to both of you.

Nanami was working on opening a bottle of wine while you were fiddling with the stove top.

Nanami had recently moved into this apartment, and it was really nice. But the oven was much different from yours, so it was taking awhile for you to get used to it.

You had finally gotten it on and you put the frying pan on the burner to heat up.

You turned your back to it and leaned against the nearby counter, appreciating the view you had of your boyfriend’s back and biceps.

It was safe to say you were distracted.

So distracted, that you didn’t notice that the shirt you were wearing had been just close enough to the burner that it had caught on fire.

You felt your hip getting a little warm, so you looked down and gasped when you saw that you were literally catching on fire.

You scrambled to rip the shirt off you, throwing it in the thankfully empty sink as you turned the water on, successfully avoiding a major problem and any serious injuries.

Shaking your head, you turned to your lover with an apology ready on your lips, only when you met his eyes, he quickly turned around.

Clearing his throat, he returned to his previous task of cutting the vegetables while he instead nodded his head towards his room.

“You can wear one of my shirts, they’re in the second drawer.” You nodded and made your way into his room, shaking your head to try and rid yourself from any further embarrassment and cool down your overheating face and neck.

Little did you know, Nanami was trying to cool down the burning red on his own face, as well as trying to focus on the vegetables.

Fushiguro Toji:

**In this you two are married and you’re Megumi’s momma**

You guys had recently adopted a cat from a nearby shelter, Toji didn’t want a cat, but between the puppy eyes of not only his young son but his wife, he was never walking out of the shelter without one.

Only, you didn’t walk out with one, since the cat Megumi chose was a female, and pregnant.

So now you guys have 4 cats.

Your kittens were older now, just about 4 months. So you and Megumi would let them out during the day (supervised and with their momma of course) and bring them back in at night. Toji didn’t really care what you did with them since they made you both happy (and it kept you both occupied-).

Toji had come home from a particularly grueling day at work, his shoulders were stiff and he had a small headache, and all he really wanted was to drag you to the bed so he could sleep on top of you while you ran your fingers through his hair and he could finally get some decent sleep.

Does he get that? No.

What he does get is you and Megumi yelling up the tree in front of your house for “Cat! Come down from the tree!” ‘Cat’ was the name of the kitten you and Megumi had forced Toji to name since ‘he had to have one too’, even though it was really just so he had no choice but to let you two keep them all.

Sighing he walked over to you both, ruffling Megumi’s hair and giving you a kiss before he stuck his hands in his pockets and asked the question he didn’t want, or need, the answer to.

“*sigh* what happened?”

Frowning, you looked back to the tree and pointed, revealing the small kitten who had managed to get herself, or himself he couldn’t remember, stuck on one of the lower branches.

“Well, he’ll come down eventually.”

You smacked his arm as Megumi’s eyebrows pinched together, little arms crossing in front of his chest, “It’s a she, daddy. And she’s just a baby! You have to get her down!”

Groaning he brought a hand up to rub his eyes, “There’s no way i’m getting up that tree, I’m way too big, and daddy’s tired”

Pouting, Megumi stood in front of his dad (Let’s say Megumi is 3~), little hands tugging on his pants leg, a little “please daddy?” coming from his trembling lips.

“No, daddy’s right, he’s too old to get in the tree,” You smirked at the glare you got from your husband, “But, if daddy helps me, I can get in the tree.”

So, that’s how you ended up in a tree, gently handing ‘Cat’ down to your husband, who quickly passed her down to Megumi, and found yourself struggling to get down.

You and Megumi had been out and about earlier, and you were wearing a comfortable dress that day, so being in a tree was less than ideal.

With the promise of Toji catching you, you jumped, not expecting the wind to carry your dress, and unintentionally giving your husband a show. Luckily, your son was much more interested in the kitten.

You felt your face heat up as you quickly fixed your dress, your husband just laughed with a ‘nothin’ I haven’t seen before babe’ which was quickly followed by an ‘ow!’ when you smacked him. </3

Zen'in Naoya:

You and Naoya were preparing to have dinner together.

He was sat at the table, finishing up some paperwork while you finished up the food.

Your 2 children, your 5 year old son and 3 year old daughter, were also sat at the table. Your children both telling their father about their days while he listened. (I know he’s literally awful, but if I can pretend Toji isn’t an awful father, I can pretend Naoya isn’t an awful person✌😌)

“And then, Momma told the guy off! It was awesome daddy!” Naoya raised his eyebrow with the smallest hint of a smile tugging the corner of his lip up. “Oh? Did he start crying too?” You gave your husband ‘a look’ while you walked to the table, setting the first dish down on the table before you turned to get another.

Your son giggled, “Like a baby!” Naoya chuckled, shaking his head as he took a sip of water.

He couldn’t help but think back to your younger days, specifically the day the two of you met when you told him off, the day you changed him, and finally the day you made him cry as you walked towards him down the aisle.

“I bet, Your mother has a habit of making men cry.” You sternly called his name from the kitchen as he snickered, your kids breaking out into their own fits of giggles.

You walked back into the dining room carrying in the last dish, shaking your head as you lightly bumped him with your hip as you passed him, him lightly patting your butt as you walked by. “Stop feeding my kids lies.”

He just smirked as he lifted his glass to his lips, he was in the middle of taking a sip when you bent down to place the dish on the table, your shirt dipping low to the point your chest was on show, giving your husband an, albeit welcome, unintentional view.

Choking on his drink, he set the cup down in favor of beating his chest with his fist, you coming over to rub his back, your children looking over in confusion cause...what the heck dad, that was weird.

“What happened? Do I need to get you a sippy cup?” Glaring at you he was finally able to stop coughing, you patting his back as you went back to your seat and sat down.

You raised an eyebrow at him, since he had still yet to tell you why he had suddenly choked on his water. But it was then you noticed just how red his face was, and how low his gaze was.

Looking down and realizing your shirt had drifted down, you fixed it and smirked, struggling to hold in the laughs and snorts that were sure to explode out of you.

Even after almost a decade of marriage, it was good to know you could still make your husband blush like a teenage boy.

Geto Suguru:

You and Geto had gone out on a date!

It was a nicer place, so you were wearing a cute spaghetti strapped dress with some nice shoes, and he was wearing a button down with slacks (sleeves rolled up to his forearms of course🥵).

You had just finished dinner and were now on the walk home.

All night you had been paranoid about your dress, you had gotten it when you and a friend had gone thrift shopping. It was honestly in pretty good condition, the only problem was that the dress’ straps had a good amount of wear on them, so the straps weren’t really that great, and you could feel them loosening as the night went on.

BUT, you were going home now, so it really didn’t matter much anymore.

Geto was lightly swinging your hands between you both as you told him the recent drama you had learned at work.

You were holding your uncomfortable shoes in one hand, and obviously Geto’s hand in the other, so your hands were occupied.

“You would not believe how messy that got. In case you ever think about cheating on me, just remember that man’s gonna be finding glitter in his car for at least a few decades.” Geto laughed as he shook his head, nudging your shoulder with his, “Good thing we don’t have to worry about that, I’m not dumb enough to cheat on my crazy girlfriend.” You made a ‘hmph’ sound and nodded, “Crazy for you~” and laughed when he shook his head.

You guys kept walking, discussing whatever topics came up.

You were almost home, so close to freedom. You called Geto’s name, about to tell him something you had remembered, when you both heard a faint *snap*.

Guided by the rush of cold air you felt hit your chest, you looked down and gasped, you would’ve been quicker to cover yourself except for the fact that both of your hands were occupied.

Working quickly because...you both were still in public, Geto let go of your hand and shrugged his jacket off, draping it around you and grabbing ahold of your hand when you were covered.

You apologized for flashing him and he shook his head, obviously it wasn’t your fault and it’s not like he was complaining.

Gojo Satoru:

Due to a particularly bad run in with a cursed spirit, your usual uniform was trashed, so you had to wear your backup uniform, which also ran small.

All day, you had been fighting with your skirt. It was too tight and too short, and was providing you with a substantial amount of stress.

It was lunch, you were half way through the school day, half a day away from going home and getting to wear your sweatpants.

“Oh Y/n~” Half a day from getting rid of the walking headache you called your co-worker.

Sighing, you stopped from where you were walking in the hallway, turning to face him you raised an eyebrow. “Yes Satoru?”

So, yes, you were ‘co-workers’ and yes, you were technically just friends.

But there was also a painful amount of mutual pining and tension that hung between you two.

“Hey, hey, what’s with the attitude? You’ve been like this all day, it’s gonna start hurting my feelings.” You grimaced as you once again adjusted your skirt, “Yeah, well, you’d be a little irritated if you had to keep fixing your skirt every 2 seconds.”

Gojo hummed, “I can imagine, so, care to join me for lunch?” You replied with a ‘sure’, and the two of you made your way to the teacher’s lounge, side by side.

You walked to the fridge and pulled out your lunch, Gojo not far behind you and you both did the necessary prep you needed for your food.

Gojo finished just barely before you, and was already sitting on one of the couches, happily digging into his food.

Once the microwave stopped you pulled your food out and started walking over to the couch.

You sat down, carefully, and began to eat your lunch.

Despite causing you mass amounts of pain and most likely a gray hair or 2, you thoroughly enjoyed spending time with Gojo, I mean, you were kinda in love with him.

“Ah, Satoru, Y/n, just the two I needed to see.” Gojo’s (likely inaccurate) account of his latest mission came to a pause when Principal Yaga walked in.

He had some information about a mission the 2 of you would be going on in 3 days. Apparently this one would be an undercover mission, and a few days.

During the conversation, Gojo (who tries to always have one of his six eyes on you at all times), had noticed your skirt riding up, and seeing as he liked you, the last thing he wanted was for you to embarrass yourself in front of you guys’s boss.

Keep in mind, it’s not like Gojo was having a great time either, you were sitting right in front of him, but it’s not like he could interrupt the principal and loudly announce you were about to expose yourself.

Thankfully, Kusakabe walked in at that moment, stealing just enough of his time for Gojo to catch your attention (like he didn’t already have it🙄) to mouth ‘Your skirt’ while he made a subtle tugging motion with his hand, going back to like nothing happened and stealing the attention of the men while you fixed your skirt.

That mission may or may not have preceded your first date with him.

Sukuna Ryomen:

You and Sukuna would be going on a date tonight, and you had spent the last half hour or so getting ready.

Your hair and make up was done, you had showered earlier, and all you had left to do was get dressed.

You had gotten dressed in your underwear when your mom had called.

You didn’t get to speak to you often and it had been awhile since you had talked, so you spent a good amount of time catching up and filling each other in on the things you had missed.

It had been about 15 minutes, you were sitting down at your vanity, pants on but still no shirt (hey man, a distraction is a distraction, let me have this i’m tired-).

You were so caught up in your phone call you hadn’t noticed that Sukuna had walked into your shared apartment.

He called out to you, but you didn’t answer. He would’ve been more worried than irritated if he didn’t hear you talking on what he presumed to be the phone.

If he knew you weren’t ready yet, he would’ve knocked, but seeing as you were on the phone, the last thing he expected when he opened your bedroom door was to see you half-naked sitting on your vanity stool like this kind of thing was normal.

“Sh*t. Warn a guy, will you? I’m not complaining but you near gave me a heart attack.” You screeched as you almost threw your phone, apologizing to your mom, you glared at Sukuna as he gave you a look that tip-toed between amusement and bewilderment.

“What, it’s not like I haven’t seen your-” You threw your pillow at him before he could finish his sentence, with your mom of all people listening to your conversation.

You two might have been married, but the last thing you needed was your mom pestering you about grandchildren again.

In case you’re wondering, he was laughing the whole time as you beat him with said pillow for saying those kind of things to your mother.

[mountswhore]

𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 — mason mount

summary: after an argument ensues between the two of you, you’d decided to go for a drive. only for it to end worse than expected for the both of you.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of a car accident, mentions of blood and cuts

notes: requests are open

“I’m not ready to lose you.” + “Wake up! Please don’t do this to me.”

“Maybe you aren’t understanding,” you sighed, tired of the argument you and Mason were currently having, “I live with you, for fuck’s sake. I see you every night and every morning, so on my only day off, I want to see my family. We visit your family all the time, what about mine?”

Mason was tugging at his hair in stress, trying his hardest to keep his cool. It started when you’d gotten home late, after a nice day out with your mum and sisters, Mason sitting on the couch in complete silence. His argument was that you barely spent time together, especially since your careers kept you busy all the time. Your argument was that you see him during the day, whereas you don’t even speak to your parents for more than a minute on the phone. You understood his argument completely, you wanted to spend time with him, but he was dismissing your argument entirely.

“I rarely get time to spend with you, so when I actually get home from training early, you’re out all day with not even a note to tell me you’d gone.” Mason whined, following you into the kitchen as you left the living room. You both hated arguments, especially shouting, it wasn’t you at all. And usually your arguments were solved with just quiet talking, and a compromise. But tonight was something else.

“I don’t get that much time off.” You stated, making yourself comfortable on the island stool. You’d hoped Mason would just drop it, or at least see where you’re coming from. “If I knew you’d be finishing early, I would have offered you to come with me. But I didn’t know, Mase. I’m tired of this now.”

“You don’t think I’m tired of this?” Mason’s voice was gradually getting louder, and you squeezed your hands together to keep calm. “I’m tired of only seeing you when you’re sleeping, or half asleep as you walk through the door. I just want you, Y/N. We don’t even have sex anymore.”

“It’s not about sex, Mason. Not to me, anyway.” He was pulling every string and managed to get on every single one of your nerves, it was almost as if he were waiting for you to snap at him.

“Don’t try and spin this, I never said it was about sex. It’s just one of the many things we used to do, and don’t do anymore.” He’d shouted at you, his tone making it out to be your fault. You were the reason you didn’t have sex anymore, you were the reason you barely see each other any more.

“You can’t even have sex leading up to a match,” you reminded him, stopping at the stairs as you pulled your shoes back on. They’d only been off for twenty minutes, your bag still on your shoulder. “God, I’ve met rocks smarter than you,” you mumbled, reaching for the door handle.

“Oh, fuck off Y/N. Why don’t you go and sleep at your family’s house if you want to see them so much?” He shouted back at you, walking to the kitchen and away from you. You’d made a habit of slamming the door after you, stomping over to your car and starting it up. Another thing you’d always done during your arguments, was wait until you were away from Mason to cry.

You’d left the driveway, tears falling from your eyes as you left Mason in your house alone. He was sat against the kitchen island in defeat, head in his hands and beginning to regret saying what he said. He didn’t want you to go to your family’s home and sleep there, he wanted you in his bed. Close to him. That’s all he wanted.

You’d taken a hand from the wheel to wipe the tears from your eyes, no doubt ruining your makeup in the process, and as another had fallen, you squeezed your eyes to push them all out. In the split second your eyes were closed, you’d heard a large horn and felt your body jolt to the side, hitting your head on your window. All you could manage to do was grab your phone and see a bunch of texts, vision blurred so you couldn’t see who they were from.

Whoever it was, you’d texted: ‘hel p.’ Before letting the darkness, that was pushing your eyelids down, consume you.

Mason had received your text and almost threw up with worry. He clenched his teeth tightly together as he threw on his shoes, running out to his car and taking the route you always took to your parents. He knew you avoided motorways whenever you could, and he finally saw your car, both sides battered completely. He could barely breathe as he leapt out of his car, leaving the door wide open and going to check on you.

Your head was rested against the cracked window, he could see small shards impaling the skin of your face. His eyes were bleeding tears at this point, yanking on the doors but they wouldn’t open. Finally, your door had been forced open by his hands and he held you tight. He could feel your breath on his arm, so he knew not to assume the worst. His tears were landing on your hair, creating a small wet patch on your hairline.

“Wake up, please don’t do this to me.” He whimpered, holding you tighter to his chest as if it were doing something, “I’m not ready to lose you.” Your body felt limp, lifeless even, it was a feeling he never wanted to feel again. His chest ached with the sobs leaving him, wanting to curl up with you in bed. With you alive and well.

Finally, after holding you close to him, he’d called an ambulance. His voice shaking as he named the road and gave them your details. If he’d just listened to you, you wouldn’t be here right now, completely knocked out and in pain. He’d taken you from the car and carried you in his arms to his own. The sirens were rapidly approaching, his tears still falling from his eyes when they took you. He didn’t want to leave you, but he’d followed the ambulance to the hospital.

For hours he waited, eyes hopeful as a doctor left your room, but they’d walked the opposite way. The last he’d heard was that you were being taken into surgery, to remove the glass shards and stitch up the wounds on your head. He was advised to go home, grab you a change of clothes and get some sleep. But he refused. He wasn’t leaving this hospital until you were out with him. He wasn’t leaving until you knew how sorry he was for what he’d done.

He wept into his hands silently in the corner of the waiting room, lifting his hood up to avoid anyone who might know who he was. He’d contacted your family, telling them you’d been in an accident and that you were awaiting surgery. Of course they’d told Mason to keep them updated, wishing him and you well. He was shaking the entirety of the time he waited for you, finally a nurse coming up to him as he’d closed his eyes for a short while. It was almost 11 now, forgetting you’d gotten home late that night.

“She’s out of surgery,” the nurse confirmed, Mason’s heart beating faster for you, “she’s being transferred to a private room, and you’ll be able to see her there. We will have to keep her overnight, and we don’t allow visitors during the night. But visiting hours open at 6 tomorrow morning. Mason just nodded, he’d do whatever to see you again.

After an hour of waiting, he was finally allowed into your room. You were still groggy but upon seeing Mason’s face, all was forgotten. Grateful was an understatement, you’d been lucky enough to see Mason again. He sat down beside you, hand slipping through the wires and into your own, squeezing it gently.

“Hello, bubs.” He whispered, afraid of his voice breaking from the tears that had started back up again. You smiled weakly at him, biting you lip to contain your smile. “How you feeling?”

“Like death, if I’m honest.”

“You still look gorgeous even after being in a car wreck.” Mason admitted, brushing the hairs away from your eyes. The tiny cuts and stitches were dotted around your face, but your eyes still gleamed hopefully. Like they did when you first met.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore, “I’m sorry.” You cried, trying to turn away from Mason but it hurt to do so. Your whole body ached from being slammed into so hard.

“There’s not a thing to be sorry for, bubs.” Mason assured you, the pads of his thumbs wiping your tears away, “forget about the argument. Spend as much time as you want with your family, I don’t care. I’m just glad to still have you.”

“I should spend more time with you,” you mumbled into his hand, kissing his palm softly, “I’m sorry for not being around much. We need to make time for each other.” Mason just nodded, so full of joy to have you back with him.

[wonderwomanfantasy]

oh shit! kisses!

oh zbops my beloved you spoil me. I fucking love himbo Sero

Sero x Reader

Warnings: nothing really

Word count: 1,000 (about)

Summary: Sero is just a good guy, he's a nice coworker and great to be around. he's also as stupid as he is hot but you wouldn't have him any other way.

“Hanta,” you whined, almost throwing yourself on his desk. Sero smiled and patted your back, he’d been having kind of a rough morning, he’d woken up late and rushed through his morning, got chewed out by his manager, and stuck with a bunch of mind-numbing paperwork, count on you to make things better.

“What’s wrong cupcake?” he asked.

“I need coffee,” you said. Hanta grinned and quirked an eyebrow up at you

“Well sweetheart you just missed the breakroom, it’s back that way,”

“The break room coffee sucks,” you huffed. It was true, the breakroom coffee was watery as hell.

“Go down the street with me to get coffee?” you asked.

“Why do you need me to go with your cupcake? You’re a grown-up aren’t you?” he teased,

“But you’re my coffee buddy, I can’t go without you!” you protested. It was a one-hit K.O. you were just too fucking cute for him to put up with. He pushed the sleeves of his button-down shirt up to his elbows and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Alright let's go, can’t leave my baby hanging,” he teased, offering his arm to you which you took. Before walking out of the office on an early lunch.

Some people might think your relationship was romantic in nature. The nicknames, the teasing, and touching. But it really wasn’t like that, you were just close work friends and you were a little touchy. Did it sometimes make Hanta blush when you ran your hands over his chest or nuzzled his neck? I mean sure. He was a red-blooded man and you were his hot, hot coworker. He’d be nuts not to be attracted to you. But Sero wasn’t a dick, so he was more than capable of brushing off your touchiness.

You ordered your coffee and Sero ordered his then you sat down together at a small iron grate table. You took one of his hands and pressed your palms together.

“Look how big your hands are Hanta! How do you even function with such long fingers?” you giggled. Sero curled his knuckles, the tops of his fingers bending over yours. His hand slipped and suddenly his fingers were laced together with yours. His first impulse was to pull away but you held him tight and he quickly relaxed. Your hand was soft, small in his, he smiled to himself.

“If you’d like I can show you how I use these big hands of mine,” he teased making you laugh. He wouldn’t mind showing you a good time, not that you were really interested in him but a guy could dream.

“Buy me dinner first,” you teased back.

“I’ve bought you coffee isn’t that close enough?” you laughed again before launching into a rant about your day and all the shit you still had to do. Sero listened then went on his own tirade.

“Sounds like we both have a lot to do huh?” you asked blowing out a huff of air.

“Yep. we should probably get back to work and get some of it done,” he sighed.

“Or we could get another cup of coffee,” you offered.

“Or we could get more coffee,” he agreed, squeezing your hand once before letting you go to get you both refills. It didn’t bother him to pay for you, he was your coffee buddy after all.

Hanta ended up pulling a late night. He was so distracted that he didn’t even notice that you never came to say goodbye to him. You always said goodbye to him before you left and almost always you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. You were just affectionate like that.

Sero submitted his last form and rolled his chair back cracking his knuckles and groaning in satisfaction.

“Hanta what are you still doing here?” you asked peeking up at him from your own desk.

“Finishing up some stuff, what are you doing here?” he asked crossing over at you and peeking at your glowing computer screen, the only light in the room beside his own desk. You smiled tiredly at him.

“New project, I’ve been working later than normal the past couple of days,” you sighed. Sero set his jaw as he looked at what you were working on. It looked like a shit ton of math to him, you’d need a full week to teach him this shit.

“You’re the only one working on this?”

“No, but-”

“No buts, knowing you, you’ve already done more than you’re fair share, it’s late baby time to go home,” his tone left no room for argument. You sighed and saved your progress, and got ready to leave.

“Let me walk you,” he said. Grabbing his bag quickly as the two of you started for the exit.

“You don’t have to Hanta, I’ve got pepper spray,” you said pulling a little blue can from your bag and waving it at him. He hmmed.

“Still walking you,” he said putting his arm around your waist, his hand resting on your hip holding you close. You sighed and snuggled closer to him bracing yourself for the cold night air. It wasn’t so bad being this close to him.

“Just to the station though,” you amended.

“What are you trying to get yourself robbed?” he scoffed. It wasn’t like he didn’t know where you lived, you were just trying to be polite so he didn’t have to walk all the way to your apartment building then backtrack to his. Jokes on you though he wasn’t going to let anything happen to you tonight.

You stayed close to Sero on the nearly empty train and he walked you to your front door. It was the middle of the night, he was clearly tired you wanted to offer your home to him for the nice but you knew he wouldn’t accept.

“Thank you Hanta,”

“Don’t mention it, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said turning to leave. You grabbed his arm stopping him and leaning up to kiss his cheek. Or at least, you were going to kiss his cheek. Sero whipped his head around to see what you needed from him and it was already too late, you ended up kissing his lips.

Sero felt awful for taking advantage of you like that. Sure maybe the kiss was an accident but when he kissed you back, cupping your face and pressing you against your door was definitely not.

He didn’t mean to, but he just couldn’t help himself. “Mhp,” you whimpered against his lips. Sero got a grip and pulled back.

“Fuck- I’m sorry cupcake, I didn’t mean to,” he said, you smiled.

“It’s okay Hanta, it was nice,” you muttered.

“Nice?” he asked.

“Yeah, Why wouldn’t I enjoy kissing you? I thought I made it pretty clear that I like you,” you said. Hanta felt lightheaded.

“Then would you mind if I kissed you again?”

[miramilocamimira]

No. (Time for dinner)

“We’ll tell her at dinner.” Alma nods at her daughters.

“Very well.” She responds as a sinking feeling forms in her gut. ‘I’m sorry Mirabel. They just…. Don’t understand. You deserve to have a life like the villagers. Not surrounded by these gifts.” She thinks to herself as they walk away.

“Wait! Mijas, isn’t Mariano coming?” Alma asks. A cloud appears over Pepa.

“No mama, after all, we need tonight to be perfect.” Her daughter spat out. She watches as the eldest of her kids pats the other’s arm and leaves with a quick nod of the head to Alma.

“Oh, Pedro…. Help me.” She whispers as she gazes over at the candle. “Help Mirabel.”

-

“Your room’s the worst!” Said girl shouts on her way to the top of her Tio’s room.

-

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU!” Isabella bellows at him after she drags him into her room. “I THOUGHT WE HAD A DEAL!”

“Oh come off it, Isa.” Camilo replies. “You would’ve hopped on the chance if you thought of it first.” A bunch of flowers were thrown at him.

“I would not!” The liar screams.

“LIAR!” He screams back. “You love her too! The only difference is that one of us finally has a chance!”

“We said we wouldn’t tell her!”

“She doesn’t have to know! All she needs to know is that this is to keep her with us, Isabella!” He counters. “What’s worse? Huh? What’s worse, Isabella? Having her here with us, knowing she’s safe and with people who love her? Or having her out in the village? With someone who would hurt her?”

-

Pepa sighed as she collected Antonio’s things. She stopped when she came across a small pile. She uncovered it.

She gasped as she saw hand made stuffed animals and what were clearly hand written stories. Pepa started to look through them and cry.

Her sobrina did all of this… all for her son? One of the books caught her eye. On its cover had what looked like copies of her and Felix.

‘He who loves the sky.’ The title read. She… she might have to ask Antonio to borrow this one.

———

Camilo sighed in relief once Isabella let him leave. He thought that would never- why is his little brother glaring at him. And outside Isabella’s door. And is it him or does that jaguar look hungry?

“Antonio? Uh… hey? You need something?”

“Mirabel is very important to me. And Hiro too.” Camilo laughs nervously. Why did he get the feeling something bad was gonna happen?

-

“What is in your hair?”

-

“And.. they felt heavy!” Luisa sobbed as she ran off.

-

Mirabel jumps and turns around to see Pepa with a cloud.

-

“I associate him with the sound of fallen sand.”

-

“Seven foot frame. Rats along his back.” Camilo says to Mirabel. Did he actually remember Bruno? Oh, heck no. Was he gonna tell her that? No.

-

“TIME FOR DINNER!”

-

“I… broke into Bruno’s tower, I found his last vision. The family’s in trouble. the magic is dying. The house is breaking. Luisa’s gift is fading. And I think it’s all because of me?” She bursts out to her father. He stared.

“Dad?”

“We say nothing. Abuela wants tonight to be perfect. You know nothing about this- none of it happened.”

“Right… the Guzmáns…”

“Uh no. Something else, Mariposa.”

“What? What do you mean? Papa?” She asked as he started shoving the vision into his pockets.

“It.. you’ll find out at dinner. Right now, no one has to know.”

-

“Hm, I know.”

“She’s gonna tell everyone.”

——

Mirabel and Delores were staring at each-other when Julietta and Pepa called for everyone’s attention.

“Alright…. Mirabel. There’s something we need to tell you.” They start and she looks over and back to see Delores whispering to Camilo.

“Uh, sí, mama? What’s wrong?” She answered quickly before her vision got blocked again and Camilo was telling Felix. Who spit his water out at Luisa and Isabella on accident.

“TÍO!” The two complained, causing her to look over as Felix had Pepa lean down to tell her.

A cloud starts forming. “Pepa!” She looks down and sees cracks.

“Mirabel… you are going to get married.” Her mother says and she hits her head.

“What?” She cries out, hearing Luisa do the same. “Why?! I don’t want to!” Across the table, she doesn’t notice how Camilo deflates or how the the animals next to her are collecting the vision. “Mama?!”

“Mirabel- you don’t even know who.” Her mother interjects calmly even though Pepa is whispering in her ear. Alma takes a drink.

This isn’t her issue now. Let her kids reap what they sow.

“What do you mean I don’t even know who?! You’ve already decided? I’m fifteen!” Isabella looks on sadly.

“MIRABEL.” Julietta yells and everyone stops to stare. “You and Camilo are engaged. After dinner the two of you will talk. We only want the best for you.”

“And what’s best for me is deciding my fate for me?” She mutters but everything was still so quiet that they all heard. “I can’t just… wow. Wow.” Luisa looks over and sees cracks along the house.

“Wha-?” She starts and Abuela follows her sight.

“Heh, surprise?” Camilo tries when Mirabel looks over.

“You… you could have told me or warned me beforehand.” Mirabel looks angry. “All of you. I had talked to nearly everyone here at some point before dinner. Luisa seems to be the only other one who’s surprised.” The girl growls out.

“Mira?” A small voice calls out. “Mirabel? Are you okay?” She looks down to see Antonio. Her rage leaves almost instantaneously.

“No. But I will be. Okay, Tonito?” She replies as she kneels down. Antonio frowns and looks over at Camilo.

“You promised.” Was all the boy said and Camilo felt his heart stop. ‘Oh no…’

“What?”

“He promised! He promised he wouldn’t hurt you! AND NOW YOU ARE SAD! HE BROKE HIS PROMISE!”

There’s a roar.

Camilo never ran so fast before.

——

A hoard of animals quickly appear and start attacking the table.

“Pepa! Felix! Control your son!” Alma screams while Delores covers her ears. The noises being too much.

Agustin moves to help but gets stung with Julietta calling out his name.

“Isa!” Luisa calls when a monkey comes out of nowhere and starts yanking on the elders hair.

“THEY SAID THEYD MAKE YOU HAPPY! THEY LIED!” The child cried out and Mirabel started trying to calm him.

Some rats and the raccoons started fighting, accidentally sending the vision to Alma.

“Antonio!” Mirabel exclaims putting both of her hands on his face to make him look at her. He’s crying and she moves a thumb to wipe some of the tears. “Tell them to stop. It’s okay. They didn’t mean to. Accidents happen okay?”

-

“Mirabel…?”

-

Said girl looks over and sees Alma with the vision. She runs.

-

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[cherryatiny]

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲! 𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭

GIFs are not mine, credit goes to their respective owner

❁ 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠

It was no secret that your sugar daddy Hongjoong is a born aristocrat, as his rich taste in everything showed up a lot. Ever since a young age, he was taught to love art in all its forms. When his grandparents passed away sadly, he was the chosen one to inherit the prestigious art gallery their family ran for more than 7 decades.

Although he wasn't an artist of the top level, his love to express himself through art never died. So the very first day he took over the gallery, the first thing he ordered his subordinates to do, was to clear out the smaller room in the back of the director's office.

Soon after, he designed the space to an art studio of his liking, where he could freely spend his free time painting, reconstructing clothes, or just rest while stimulating his brain to function more creatively.

Soon after he met you and you two got into the sugar daddy relationship, he found his muse in you. At first, it started by him just taking pics of you at the moments he deemed to be artsy, not long after that he however started calling you to his little studio in the gallery he ran. Always making you sit or lay down on the old valuable settee, that looked like the ones from Renaissance paintings.

Taking you by your hand, he showed you the paintings of the new exhibition he was preparing. The paintings harmonized well, all of them tuned in a dark abstract setting. Loosening your hand out of his grip, you grasped his wrist the same he did with your often, dragging him to the office. He was slightly taken by surprise as he did not expect you to drag him there since you haven't agreed on him painting you today. „Lay down, for today, you'll be my muse Joongie.“

He was laying on the settee, looking up at the ceiling, so his side-profile was fully visible to you, as you painted him on the canvas. Mixing colours to your liking, you made the portrait of your Hongjoong look abstract, as it matched the art style he often used.

After hours of painting, when you did the last line with your paintbrush, you sighed out tiredly, wiping the sweat off your forehead as you observed your creation. „My muse, you can come here and admire yourself on the canvas.“ Standing up swiftly, he came over to you, leaning forward, his arm wrapping around the shoulder of your sitting self as he was all eyes on the painting.

„It's... spectacular. I- I'm at a loss of words, why did you never tell me you had a talent for painting my darling? If I added this painting to the exhibition there, I can guarantee you, that this will be the most favoured painting in my gallery.“

❁ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚

You don't even know why you applied to become Seonghwa's secretary a few months ago, considering you've never worked in this type of branch. But it was probably the best decision of your life because if you wouldn't have applied for the secretary position, you wouldn't have met your sugar daddy Seonghwa.

At first, the work was a disaster as your relationship with your boss didn't start off very well. He was giving you tons of work to do, the stupidest arrangements that were completely unnecessary to make, or the most boring workshops and meetings to take you to with him.

But after the one night at a business conference in Milan when you two got closer than one would expect you to and got into the sugar daddy relationship, his attitude to you drastically changed.

Your secret relationship also made him give you easier and different tasks to do, he as well deemed you to be more reliable than before, which resulted in him giving you free hand in literally everything. He was actually taken aback by how competent you were at your tasks. Doing everything you were told to do, ten times better than he would have probably done.

One night, as you two were cuddling on the couch in his place while looking out of the large glass wall with the sighting of the whole town, he spoke out, „Y/N why didn't you tell me you had such talent for scheduling, strategic planning and business stuff? I should have made you the director of strategic planning or something like that. But then... I get to be closer to you when you're my secretary, my beautiful baby.“

❁ 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨

„Ah, shit! The actress who was supposed to play the walk-on in the hospital scene with Yunho, can't get here as something happened to her. What do we do now?“ yelled the director out of frustration as the actress announced she can't arrive just a few minutes before they were supposed to shoot.

You were just finishing your sugar daddy Yunho's outfit for the shoot as you were the main costumer for this k-drama. Yunho stood up from his seat as you finished his stylist, bending down to plant a kiss on your lips, before going over to the director with a worried look on his usually joyful face.

You were clearing off the stuff you used on him back to where it belonged to. Eyeing Yunho talk with the director from distance, the two of them occasionally flashing looks at you. When they stopped talking, Yunho jogged to you with the beaming smile you knew that well on his face. His puppy-like features always flashed out when he had any good news, giving him the look that was asking him what he wanted to say.

„Get changed. You've got the role of the girl who's missing.“ you raised your eyebrows at what he just said, taken aback as you did not really understand what he was talking about. You and acting? „Come on, get dressed, we don't have much time. Here's the script.“ handing you the bunch of papers and the outfit the girl was supposed to wear, he motioned for you to go to the changing room.

You wiped the sweat off your forehead as you went away from the shooting site. „Wow, ms. Y/N, are you sure you didn't study acting? Although it was supposedly your first time acting, it was so natural. Wow, I'm glad Yunho showed you to me, you are for real like a hidden gem. Would you... maybe be interested in any more acting in future?“ asked the director with a glance of hope in his eyes after you finished shooting the small part in the k-drama your sugar daddy was starred in. Looking at him, wondering what Yunho's opinion was, the proud and encouraging smile on his face hinting that he really wanted you to accept the offer made by his boss.

„I'm so proud of you princess. My little talented actress, I love you.“

❁ 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠

Groaning softly, you rubbed your eyes as you sat up, looking at the empty spot beside you. You were sleeping at Yeosang's home, but as you could see, he didn't seem to be sleeping. Slipping your feet into the fluffy slippers with rabbit eyes, you wrapped your body tighter in Yeosang's shirt you were sleeping in, as the air was rather cool.

Opening the door of his bedroom, you went down the stairs of his apartment, down to the living room where a small table lamp was lit. Your sleepy sugar daddy sitting by the desk covered in many papers that seemed to be related to his prosecutor work.

Approaching him, you caressed his shoulder, which woke him up from his quick nap, „Mhm, Y/N. You can go back to sleep, I'll be there soon, I just have to finish this.“ You knew well that that wasn't the case and he won't be there soon. Sighing, you wrapped your arms around his neck, sitting down on his lap, his hand caressing your exposed thighs. „What are you working on, Yeo?“

„I'm treading through the case files, but I just can't take the next step. The police want me to indict him of murder, but the defendant is justifying himself saying that it was an accident and that he should be only indicted of manslaughter.“ Taking the case files from his hand, you read through them since your unbiased opinion might be of help to him.

Taking a pen from his desk, you underlined the facts you thought were important in your lay opinion. Handing it to him, he read focused on the underlined sentences, his eyes lighting up in hope. „Oh my god, Y/N. You're the saviour of my life, this is the core issue but it hasn't even struck up to me. I love you so much, my little prosecutor.“

❁ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧

„Sannie, could you please tie my swimsuit?“ you held your hair in a ponytail so it did not get into the way as San tied the ribbon on the back of your swimsuit. You smiled at him as a way to say thank you, leaving the hotel suite your sugar daddy San reserved for you two to enjoy your vacation to the fullest.

San took your hand in his, your fingers intertwining as you walked down the hotel's luxurious corridors to the private beach. „Now, what does my beautiful baby plan on doing today?“ questioned san as he pulled you to him as close as possible. „Hm, I don't know, I'll probably do nothing all day long, just lay on the beach and sunbathe.“

„Then I'll keep you company while you do your nothing.“ giggles were leaving you two as you talked more while on the way to the sea. But as you started nearing the beach, loud dance music coming from the speakers. „What's that...?“ As you got to the beach, a group of people was doing dance work-outs there to the rhythm of the music.

„I have no idea what they are doing, but let's try Y/N“ and without giving you a chance to protest, San tugged you there by your wrist, right to the centre of the imaginary dance floor. He started dancing just as the instructor did, gesturing you to do the same.

Soon after you submitted to his nagging, doing the same as him to the rhythm of the energetic music. „Y/N, you're doing so well. Would I have known about your talent to dance, I would have taken you to some studio a long ago.“

❁ 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢

After that one ball, you two met together at, you got invited to countless more balls to keep your boss company. Over that many times you two spent together, you get to know each other more and more until eventually, he somehow became your sugar daddy and boyfriend in one.

Tonight was very special, Mingi as the chairman of one of the biggest conglomerates in the country, got invited to the ball held by the president for the most influential people in the country. And when he stopped by your apartment with a beautiful night-robe, a pair of brand-new heels and a golden envelope with the letter of invitation in it, you almost fainted from the delight you felt.

Sometimes he couldn’t help but watch you like a movie on nights like this. Because you seemed so interested in these events, that it truly amazed him how you could act so interested in the talk of the attendants when it bore him to death. You just seemed so natural at attending events like this, you could dance, you knew all the protocol rules, you could pretend interest or know how to answer to the business talk others often held with you. He just couldn’t help but admire the talent you had for the formal events.

Excusing you from their speech, Mingi wrapped his arms around your waist, taking you to the middle of the dance floor as your favourite dance song was playing. Moving slowly, you melted into his touch as you enjoyed each other’s presence dancing the slow dances. „I'm amazed my dear Y/N, I can't bring myself to be interested in talking to these egoistic geezers for more than 5 minutes. Thank god I have you, my talented princess.“

❁ 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠

When you spent the night at your sugar daddy Wooyoung’s place, you usually weren’t allowed to even be near the kitchen as he insisted “he treats his princess food and she shouldn’t cook, because what if she cuts herself?” so today, as he had to rush to the work early in the morning because of some urgent, leaving you in his immense mansion alone.

And that meant you had a free pass to cook something in his kitchen. But seeing how emptied his fridge was, you opted for something more simple in a form of stir-fried tofu with vegetables. Washing the fresh vegetables thoroughly, you dried them, placing them on the breadboard, to cut them. All of his knives were sharp as Wooyoung was doing his best to keep his kitchen in the best state.

Throwing the tofu cubes onto the pan with a heated droplet of olive oil, you stirred them until they roasted into golden colour, adding the cut vegetables and cooking rice in the meanwhile. Not at all realizing that there was a pair of eyes watching you from the doorframe.

Leaving you like that, Wooyoung in the meanwhile went to change into some sweatpants and a t-shirt, maybe a quick shower. And so when he came back, you were already turning off the stove. „Well, well, well, what do I see? Looks like someone used my kitchen behind my back.“

You jumped in your place lightly, your breathing heavy at how startled you were upon Wooyoung talking to you out of nowhere. „Jung Wooyoung, for how long have you been there?“ he put on a grimace, pretending to be pondering over it. „Probably ever since you added the veggies to eat and started singing to those annoying songs.“

„They’re not annoying, you’re just too old to understand them. Anyway, if you want to nag at me for using your kitchen, do it after you taste my delicious meal. Seems like you were in rush this morning, so you probably haven’t eaten anything“ Placing the plate in front of him, you sat opposite of him, waiting to see what his reaction would be as he had never tasted your cookings before.

„Mhmm, are you sure you’ve cooked it yourself? If so... why have I never let you in my kitchen, when this is so delicious? Gosh, my princess is such a good cook.“ Your smile was full of delight at his compliment as you watched him stuff his mouth full of your food.

❁ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨

„Y/N, I’m going to the restroom, you’ll wait for me, right?“ you nodded, watching your sugar daddy Jongho leave the studio. Standing up, you sat down on the now-emptied armchair in front of the PC screens, your eyes scanning the colourful music segments on the screen.

You picked up the sheaf of papers with the notes to his newest song, along with the lyrics he’s written himself. Your eyes ran over the notes and the lyrics and as you were re-reading the text for the 3rd time, you started humming to it, trying to get the right melody Jongho was intending on having in the song.

Opening the door to the studio, Jongho noticed you sitting on the chair, your back turned to him and that resulted in you still being oblivious to his presence. And he didn’t dare to make a move, standing in the door-frame and watching you humming to the song in amazement that you weren’t tone-deaf like most non-musical people were, as you hit all the tones.

„Woah Y/N, are you a trained singer or something? Why didn’t you tell me you were good at music? I would have taken you here long time ago...“

❁ taglist : @galaxteez @gyubaby @bobateastay @tinytinyblogs @ateezinmymind @chososchaos @cvtiehoon @a-soft-hornytiny

[uwuwriting]

Waking up next to you for the first time w/ Kaminari, Deku and Shinsou

Request: Hello! I saw that requests are open and wondered if you could do some small headcanons about Izuku, Shinshou and Denki waking up after sleeping with their S/O for the first time together, processing that they are not alone in bed, and just fluffy stuff! ♡ Soft boy hours - @bemorefiction​

So freaking cute omgggg. I’ve been reading a ton of harry potter related fics and have I ever said how sad I am for the Weasly twins? No ? Well I do NOT take canon into consideration in this occassion, they’re both enjoying their lives. Thank you for coming to my TED talk. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist 

rules

warnings: fluff

Kaminari Denki 

-You decided to have your first ever sleepover with your boyfriend and boy oh boy were you anxious. 

-At first you didn’t know how to act. 

-Neither of you knew tbh. 

-You had put on a Disney movie and were awkwardly cuddling on his bed. 

-You really didn’t know why you were being so anxious I mean you had agreed that nothing PG 18 would happen tonight so why so weird yall?

-Anyways after the movie you relaxed more and were confident enough as to start a pillow fight. 

-Exhausted after that legendary fight you both fell asleep in an instant. 

-You fell asleep on the floor with a bunch of blankets and pillows surrounding you and Denki’s arms securely around your waist. 

-He woke up first because his phone was vibrating near his head. 

-After declining the call from Sero he stretched his limps out, his toes touching the edges of his actual bed. 

-In his sleep clouded state he completely forgot about you, remembering he wasn’t alone only when you made a small noise when he accidently elbowed you. 

-You didn’t wake up, on the contrary you snuggled closer to him, hugging his arm tightly to yout chest. 

-It was the CUTEST thing he had seen in a fat while. 

-The butterflies in his stomach were going crazy and he was pretty sure he was about to pass out. 

-Deciding to go back to sleep he brought his other arm and drapped it over your form bringing you closer to his chest as he rested his chin on your head. 

-Closing his eyes he breathed in your light perfume, enjoying the domesticity this sleepover provided him. 

Midoriya Izuku 

-You actually stayed over by accident. 

-You were having a study date with your boyfriend and you finished before him. 

-Being the tired bean that you are you decided to take a little nap until he was finished.

-Then you would cuddle. 

-What you didn’t expect was for Izuku to take far too long studying resulting in you getting trapped in his room because it was past curfew. 

-He finished his algebra homework at around one AM and he had totally forgotten that you were in his room. 

-He thought that after you were done you stayed for a little and then left but there you were asleep on his bed clutching on of his pillows close to your chest. 

-He didn’t want to wake you and besides it was already past curfew so you would get in trouble if you tried to return to your room. 

-So after taking multiple pictures since you were THAT cute he settled in bed behind you wrapping his arms around you and bringing you flush to his chest. 

-He was super tired as well so he was off to dreamland in no time. 

-The next morning he woke up to sunlight hitting him straight in the face. 

-He must have forgotten to close the blinds last night.

-As he went to get up to close them he felt an unfamiliar weight on his chest. 

-Looking down he was met with a mess of hair and a very much asleep you, breathing evenly.

-He had that stupid smile on his face but was simultaneously super embarassed because wholy shit his girlfriend was sleeping on his chest. 

-Unlike Denki he couldn’t go back to sleep so he just scrolled through his phone and enjoyed your warmth. 

-He loved this feeling.

-He could get used to it. 

Shinsou Hitoshi

-With him um it was your first time for both a sleep over and something else. 

-Wink wink.

-Anyways, you were both so exhausted and in so much bliss that you fell asleep immediately after you cleaned up.

-He brought you onto his chest and soon fell asleep. 

-The next morning his feet were freezing. 

-His chest and arms were incredibly warm.

-Looking down he saw that you had wrapped all the covers around your body, wrapping his waist, chest and arm along with you.

-But you were shorter than him, a lot shorter since he’s a god damn tree and you were curled up into a small ball onto of his chest. 

-So now his legs were freezing. 

-Sleeping naked wasn’t helping. 

-Then it dawned on him what had gone down last night. 

-How you had taken your relationship to the next level. 

-He especially remembered the noises you made. 

-His sweet sweet girlfriend. 

-Waking up in an overly clingy and fluffy mood today he turned to the side taking you with him, placing you gently on the pillow. 

-He traced lines all over your face in his gentle attempts to wake you. 

-He started to lay kisses all over your cheeks and forehead, kissing your nose a few times just to see you scrunch it up. 

-Soon you were awake, mumbling a soft good morning and snuggling into your boyfriend’s chest. 

-He was sure he couldn’t be more in love with you than he was right now. 

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan​ @the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @reinyrei​ @axerrri​ @dnarez-mangetsu​ @bemorefiction​