#and of course I'm writing raven's partner

[arlestial]

❝lavender haze❞

synopsis : Rin begged Ego to let you assist to one of his training games. But he wasn’t quite fond of your interactions with a certain player..

pairing : Rin Itoshi x genderneutral!reader •— Blue Lock

tw : A mix of fluff and comfort, with the slightest bit of angst (jealousy themes, possessiveness)

word count : 2700~ words

author-note : Hi !!! It's been so long, I missed writing so much... I finally passed my final exams, and I'm now in vacations; I’m going to Austria today. My blog is like- a blue lock obsession at this point lmao but ngl i like it that way. Btw, I’ve seen the movie and I'm just plain disappointed ? It was short asf, and the animation... well, we don't wanna talk about it. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated :) sorry if it’s bad btw !! Anyway, take care of yourself ♡

A rare, smug smile appeared on RIN ITOSHI’s lips; a smile that immediately triggered his teammates, who looked at each other, dumbfounded. They weren’t used to observe him with such an expression written on his usual stern features; as soon as he left the locker rooms, whispers emerged in the sweaty air, begging for an explanation.

"No way he did," Isagi contested with a frown and a disapproving tone, much to Bachira’s dismay.

"I’ve seen it with my eyes," The other retorqued, "Believe me. He smiled, dude. I’ve never seen him smile before."

"We’re gonna get fired from Blue Lock. I swear— he wouldn’t be happy if it wasn’t terrible. He’s a sadist."

"No worries, my dear Isagi. We’re going to elucidate this mystery together," Bachira replied with a proud smirk of his own; Isagi sighed at his friend’s antics.

"Maybe it’s personal."

"It’s never personal enough for us not to be nosy !" The dual-haired boy nearly gasped, "Our duo is unstoppable."

With more or less desire to intrude Rin’s life, Isagi joined Bachira into a rather quick — and disappointing — mission, to solve the mystery around the cold-hearted guy’s smile, a smile they had the chance to witness.

"Ah. Itoshi asked Ego to let his partner see the next training game. I didn’t know he would be this enthusiastic once Ego accepted."

Anri’s revelation should’ve been a relief for the two men — they wouldn’t be expelled of the program. Thus, Isagi had been surprised and confused when he noticed Bachira’s quiet attitude.

"Aren’t you supposed to be delighted you discovered the truth ?", The raven-haired boy asked, curious, as they walked in the corridor to join their rooms again.

"I didn’t even have time to feel the thrill of the investigation," the other whined.

"At least we know he has a partner. It’s… let’s just say it’s surprising someone like him could ever get someone."

"Someone like me ?"

The sudden third voice scared the two men off, and they jumped. Of course, it was Rin. Always there at the worst moment. Isagi gulped.

"H-Hey, I didn’t mean it like that—"

"What Isagi was trying to say, is that we’re not picturing you as the lovey-dovey type of guy, you know ? Not a good boyfriend or something."

If Isagi could facepalm right now, he would, "Thank you for your help, Bachira, it’s even worse now", he replied in a murmur.

"Who said I couldn’t be the "lovey-dovey type of guy" ?", Rin huffed in his usual cold tone, "and a good boyfriend ?"

"Everyone," the two others responded at the same time. Rin rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"So, y’all just sat down and talk about who could be a good partner or not ? That’s probably why you’re still fucking losers at soccer."

Bachira held Isagi back, amused by his eagerness to show Rin "who’s the real loser between them". Rin walked away confidently, and above all, enlivened by Ego’s answer. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it, the butterflies already flying eagerly in his stomach in anticipation.

RIN ITOSHI’s belly butterflies died in an instant. It wasn’t fair. At all. He had been longing for you since weeks now, months even; he negotiated with Ego for who-knows-long, trying to find a way to make you come to a training game of his — so that he wouldn’t have to search for you in a huge crowd of exasperating, futile, and bland people. And here he was, watching you from afar talking with Isagi Yoichi. He cursed under his breath. This dude had nothing to do with you. He was nothing compared to Rin; a mere guy, with limited soccer skills and knowledge and experience and — why were you talking with him anyway ? When he was right there, waiting for you. The training have haven't even started yet, and playing with Isagi left a bitter taste in his mouth. He threw a hard glare in your direction, which you immediately noticed; you waved at him with a smile, and it nearly made him melt. It would've if he wasn't this upset in the first place. Bachira called for Isagi, and the raven-haired boy returned to the field with a smile. If he could, Rin would definitely wipe the smile off this random guy's face.

RIN ITOSHI tried not to let this affect him. But the prominent and everlasting burning sensation in his chest clouded his mind, making him loose his focus each time his eyes would fall on either Isagi, or you. And god knows how much he had missed you, how he needed to touch you now, to feel your skin just against his — to kiss you endlessly, and his gaze softened by pure reflex as he noticed you were staring at him. He felt guilty, to entertain such hideous resentment towards you, while you were just there for him, as beautiful as the day he left you in your shared apartment to join Blue Lock again after his short break. Was he jealous? It couldn't be. Why would he be jealous of Isagi? He was better than him in everything. Atter 45 minutes, when they all got a short break from the match, Rin refused to say a word. He was always rather quiet - but now, it felt a bit weird. He just stared at Isagi with a cold gaze, and the other boy frowned. When they had to join the field again, Isagi stopped Rin, a hand laying on his shoulder.

"Hey, is everything okay? If it's about the score of earlier, I already said -"

"Look," Rin cut out quickly, his tone slowly shifting to an irritated one, "I don't want to hear your fucking voice."

Isagi's brows were now even more furrowed in confusion,

"What the.. I did nothing bad, dude. If you're upset, that's not my problem. Deal with your childish feelings alone, I don't know."

Childish feelings ? It was deeper than that. Much to Rin's own surprise, he grabbed Isagi's collar, dragging him closer with a menacing look. He didn't know, did he ? How much Rin loved you, how much he required your whole attention. Maybe it was childish indeed, selfish even, to desire to be your whole world. The only one you would ever think about. If he could make you his forever, he would; and at the same time, you had every right to talk to other people, be friends with anyone, you were free after all. But that wouldn’t rub out the aching feeling in his heart, seeing you smile with someone else, having a good time with someone who wasn’t him. Maybe because in the very end, he was scared of losing you. Of you, finally realizing you deserved far better than what he could give you. He was distant, sometimes. He hurt you too much, argued with you on futile things, left for Blue Lock for months, he was a huge mess, and still, you wanted him. It was a mystery for Rin, but he wouldn’t ever complain. He was too engrossed in your love and affection, and somehow, even if he knew it was fundamentally wrong, he’d never wish for you to realize what you truly deserved. Because it wasn’t him. And he couldn’t bare to see you enjoying your life with someone else other than him.

"I’m going to end your pathetic and meaningless existence so quickly you won’t have time to take another breath," Rin spat sharply, "I’ll politely advice you not to approach them ever again — don’t want your disgusting germs to infect them, understood ?"

With these words, Rin yanked him away and joined the field, leaving a widened-eyed Isagi behind him. As soon as the game ended, the whole Blue Lock team began gathering their water bottles, heading to the locker rooms. Rin stayed behind, since he wanted to spend some time with you before your departure. When you both were finally alone, you walked down the stairs, and Rin immediately engulfed you in his arms. One hand was grabbing your side, the other resting on the back of your head, pulling you close. He sighed, inhaling your familiar perfume — it was his favorite, the one he gifted you recently — and pressed a delicate kiss to the crown of your head.

"I missed you so much," He declared, or more precisely, complained, and you chuckled, embracing him just as tightly.

"And I missed you even more," you responded, loosening your embrace to look at him. He could die for this fond look in the depths of your irises. You didn’t have to ask; his hands reached for your cheeks, tilting your head backwards to kiss you gently, yet, eagerly, a pleading for your tenderness. You kissed him back, amused by his move. He was usually the reserved type, especially in public — even if the whole stadium was empty now. Your lips parted to welcome his tongue inside, deepening the kiss even more, a slow dance mimicking his need for you. He kissed your forehead softly when you two broke away from one another.

"What happened earlier ? With Isagi. I thought you were gonna fight."

The question tensed him. Of course you had to bring it up. He stroked your cheek delicately, as if you’d shatter if he wasn’t careful enough.

"Nothing, love, don’t worry. I was just—"

"He told me about it, Rin."

You cut him, and he winced. Ah. That was a problem. He swore he discerned a tint of disappointment in your eyes, but it faded away too rapidly for him to search for it again.

"I thought we said no lies between us."

"I know, darling", he could only mutter. You gently took his wrists, then his hands, intertwining your fingers together.

"Am I not reassuring you enough, Rin ? I won’t ever leave you. Especially not for a guy I just met. You know that."

"More than enough," the memory of your smile and laugh when Isagi cracked a joke made him sigh, "it’s hard to believe sometimes. That’s all."

You nodded; with his lack of self-esteem, how was he supposed to believe you, anyway ? It was a constant fight against the insecurities crawling in the pit of his soul, however, you would never let them win. He suffered enough alone, now that you were there with him, you’d be in the frontlines.

"But it’s still true. I’m lucky to have you, Rin. Maybe one day you’d finally recognize that."

At this moment, he wanted to tell you he was lucky to have you, but he didn’t dare, especially not when he saw you reaching for him again, your arms around his neck. He let himself drown in your arms and comfort, soothed by your heartbeat — at this very precise instant, he swore his heart was beating for you. And if you wanted it on a silver plate, he’d gladly do so.

"I’m sure his joke wasn’t even that funny."

You chuckled, "maybe not better than yours, I must admit."

Not far away, two boys were spying on the scene; their investigation had been more successful than what they ever hoped for, "maybe he’s not that bad, after all."

"I thought he was going to choke me to death."

"Oh, he could."

RIN ITOSHI was a possessive man. Somewhere, he wanted you to rely on him, and him only — to be the only source of your happiness. He never had something to call his; you were the first. And he fully intended you to be the last.

[wings-of-ink]

Plans, Updates and News!

The Future (and why that's a little scary)

Hello everyone! I hope you are all safe and well.

I wanted to make a post to keep everyone in the loop of where I'm at personally and what that means for the future of my creations, and also give an exciting update!

How about the update first! After some concerns brought to my attention via this post. I decided to change the MC's best friend (Lakota's) name. I received a lot of feedback with reassurances that it was okay to keep this as his name, but at the end of the day, I realized it still has the potential to do harm. That's not what I'm about. Even if most people feel okay with this, someone out there may genuinely not be. The name is easy to change here, and it's not something I feel comfortable trying to justify or anything like that. It hurts me and readers less to change the name than it could by not changing it.

So, I had subscribers on Patreon and Ko-fi vote on a new name! I chose a list starting with 7 names. Voters narrowed down the selection to a top 3. The first 7 were: Kuno, Thamir, Emre, Lailoken, Kalei, Avi, and Asa. After the first round of votes, we narrowed it down to: Emre, Lailoken, and Kalei.

And the winner is...

Emre!

The name will be updated in a future patch!

Up next, I'll give you a heads up on future developments. Here I'll dip into a bit of my personal life. I'm not dipping too far for my comfort zone, and I might put a few things...delicately. But I want you to know what's up and where my head is at right now and why.

So, the second IF is likely not going to happen right now - I think (more on that below). I am not writing this to "stir the pot" or create fear or debate, but it's no secret that things in the States are super not okay. This happens to be where I am. My future is feeling rather uncertain and unsteady and some days I am just scared and not just for myself and loved ones. I am not going to go into all the little details, but my time is already at a premium with working full time and my personal life, and that free time is about to get a bit more narrow in the next 6 or 7 months.

I am prioritizing God-Cursed and Subscriber benefits and have decided that now is not the time to start a second project. I would rather focus on getting GC updates out if my extra time will have more limitations.

Now, the reason I said "I think" it's not going to happen is that - frankly - I'm at risk for suddenly losing my job. Yaay, go me! Part of what I do is funded through the federal government. I'm not employed through them directly, but no money for social services means I'm out of work. If this happens though - I'll have the time for a second project! Yaay???

My partner and I have some emergency plans in place for all kinds of things that might happen be it job loss or something much worse. If this happens, I will prioritize and expand my subscriber benefits to help us survive financially until more work can be found. I am already looking for a new job since the uncertainty is...difficult.

So, if I do find myself with extra time and still employed, I will work on a short story-based IF instead where you can romance 1 character per story. It will be much easier to produce than a fully plotted game. It will likely be a subscriber-only project, but full stories should be released at once (fully interactive with optional spice of course). If I lose my job, you can expect details on a new public IF shortly after, lol.

Okay, moving on to happier things...March is like...here. And March is Duri-month on Patreon and Ko-fi! Around the middle of the month you can expect a cute extra story featuring our favorite demigod for the "Crows" tier and a spicy extra for the "Ravens" tier. I anticipate posting around the 15th or 16th.

Here's a sample!

Currently chapter 6 sits at around 15k words and the first section of it is done (just needs some editing and the like). I'm also making my way passage by passage in previous chapters to improve grammar, word choice, coding, etc....

Anyway, I think that's everything! Take care and be safe!

~Lunan ^_^

[that-irrelevant-ricecakeaddict]

"Baby we're high on you."

Drug Dealer!Seonghwa x f!reader x Drug Dealer!Hongjoong

Shout-out to @seventhcallisto for helping me with the planning and writing of the smut scene <333 Do check out her writing!

Parts 3/3 of Drug Dealer! Seonghwa

>>Part 1:"She's a regular here..."

>>Part 2:"Use me like a drug!"

CW: threesome, unprotected sex (stay safe guys), switch!matz, drug dealers!matz, mentions of illegal activity, a little bxb action, lmk if I missed out anything!!

< [y/n]’s dms with Seonghwa >

Hwa 💞: sweetheart?

Hwa 💞: I kinda need need your help with something

Hwa 💞: It's a big favour…

you: What is it? You know I'll help however I can

Hwa 💞: Well, Joong and I need a safe place to stay at

Hwa 💞: That big raid on PARADIGM is happening soon, and many dealers are closing shop temporarily to avoid getting caught in the crossfire from the probable gang clash, MATZ included

Hwa 💞: Do you think we could crash at your college dorm for a week or two?

Hwa 💞: It's completely fine if it's too much of an inconvenience, of course!

you: Hwa, I'd love to have you guys stay over! My roommate is actually flying off tomorrow to visit her parents in her home country. She'll be gone for the next month, so you guys are free to stay longer than 2 weeks if you need to <3

Hwa 💞: Thank you so much, my love 🫶

< Present >

Your fuzzy socks swished against the floorboards when you scrambled over to the front door at the sound of the doorbell. Quickly pulling a stray lock of hair aside to make yourself look a little more presentable, you unlocked the door, coming face-to-face with your raven-haired boyfriend.

“Seonghwa!! You're here!”

You practically launched yourself into Seonghwa's arms, earning a chuckle from him. He tilted his head downwards to kiss your hair, wild hair strands tickling the tattooed skin on his neck. You hummed appreciatively in response, and snuggled into his snakeskin blazer. The two of you stayed this way for a moment. An annoyed voice from behind Seonghwa suddenly spoke up.

“If you guys are done making me feel single, I'd like to be able to put down my things.”

You leaned around your boyfriend to see his best friend and partner-in-crime (literally), Hongjoong, standing behind him, the fur from his fluffy winter hat seemingly irritating his eyes. He stumbled slightly under the weight of the heavy duffle bag slung across his shoulder. “Oh, sorry– let me help you with that,” you mumbled. He sighed and shook his head. “No, I'm sorry, you're the one helping us out here. I'm just feeling annoyed because of all the admin work we had to do for a fucking gang clash that we're not even involved in.”

You let him step around you to enter the apartment, while Seonghwa patted his best friend on the shoulder. “It's for safety precautions, Joong. Closing MATZ temporarily is better than possibly losing it, we've talked about this.” Hongjoong huffed in response from the living room, a loud thump indicating that he had plopped himself on the couch there.

Once certain that Hongjoong was out of earshot, Seonghwa leaned downwards, gesturing to you to listen carefully.

“Hongjoong's been more stressed from this whole ordeal. Usually he just has to deal with shipment schedules and arrangements, but the raid on PARADIGM gave him a lot more work to do, what with the postponing of shipments and smuggling tactics. He's also super ticked off about having to close shop, even though it's just temporary. Personally I feel like his current workload is equivalent to what I deal with on a daily basis, but, you know, to each his own.”

You listened attentively to his words, giggling quietly at Seonghwa's sassy remark at the end. He smiled and gave you a peck on the cheek.

“Thanks again for letting us stay over, sweetheart. We'll look after ourselves and do some chores around the place while you're at lectures, hm?”

“That would be so sweet of you. Though I'm honestly not complaining, since it means I get more time with you…”

“Mmm, I thought the same. But we,” Seonghwa's eyes lingered pointedly at the shorter man in your living room, “Won't cause any trouble. Promise.”

“I'll take your word for it, baby.”

Over the next few days, Seonghwa did indeed keep his promise of not causing any trouble. Emphasis on just Seonghwa. His best friend, on the other hand, was the exact opposite.

The living arrangements were as such: Seonghwa would sleep with you in your room, and Hongjoong would sleep on the couch in the living room. However, it wasn't long before you and Seonghwa found out that Hongjoong was secretly still doing deals with clients. And he was hiding his products in the crevices of your sofa. “The grind never stops, I gotta make that bag,” he'd protested when you confronted him about a box of ice that was shoved under a couch cushion. But thanks to Seonghwa's unlikely, but still plausible, argument of getting your dormitory raided under police investigation for illegal activities, he was able to get the younger man to get rid of the goods. Also, it wouldn't have been a very good look on you if Yujin, your roommate, came back to find tiny jars of weed rolling around under the couch.

Eventually, to prevent him from pulling another similar stunt again, Seonghwa and you agreed to let him sleep in Yujin's room, which was right next to yours and would let Seonghwa keep an ear on his best friend's movements. Hongjoong had readily agreed to this. Now both the threat of getting into trouble with the cops and the threat of dealing with Kim “your-couch-gave-me-a-fucking-backache” Hongjoong every morning were out of the way.

A few days passed after the new arrangements were made, and there was a particular morning that Hongjoong started acting weird around you.

It was the morning after the three of you had sat down together for a drink, celebrating you finally submitting a paper that had been torturing you for a week. Having gotten blackout drunk for the first time in a while, you didn't remember what had happened after waking up in the morning. You'd assumed that Seonghwa had just carried you back to bed after you'd fallen asleep from the alcohol (it wasn't the first time your boyfriend's had to deal with your drinking habits).

Yawning and scratching at your neck, you stepped out into the hallway, head aching from the hangover and stomach grumbling for something savoury. The sound of water running in the shared bathroom indicated that Seonghwa was taking his usual morning shower, so you decided to make breakfast for everyone. You stumbled slightly into the kitchen/dining room, surprised to see Hongjoong slumped over a cup of coffee at the kitchen island.

“Joong?”

The man jumped slightly at you calling him. He'd evidently been spacing out before you made your presence known. He dipped his head at you, his unusually jittery eyes avoiding contact with your own.

“Good morning y/n…”

“Why're you up so early? I usually don't see you awake and aware of your surroundings until lunchtime.”

“Ah… I slept earlier than usual after that drink with you and Hwa. So I managed to get up earlier.”

Hongjoong took your hum as an approval. Sure, it was a lie, but you didn't know that. His breath hitched when you stretched your arms back, letting out a quiet moan at the same time.

“You okay, Joong? Did you drink too much last night?”

“A-ah, yeah…uhm, in fact, I really need to go lie down right now.”

“Oh, but I was about to make breakfast for us…”

“There's no need to make a portion for me! I'll join you and Seonghwa later for lunch, maybe.”

You pursed your lips at his hurried response, but shrugged it off. Hongjoong hopped off the elevated kitchen island stool, shuffling back down the hall and into his temporary room.

Once inside, he groaned and bit his lip, nearly drawing blood from how hard his teeth dug into his lip. Memories of the night before flashed through Hongjoong's mind. Lying alone in bed, shamelessly listening to you and his best friend fuck relentlessly on the other side the wall. Turns out you'd forgotten how horny excessive alcohol would make you. And the walls were, evidently, very very thin.

Hongjoong whined pathetically at the raging boner in his shorts, which had formed when you were talking to him in the kitchen. How was he supposed to face you after overhearing you at your most vulnerable state? How could he, after hearing your whimpers and cries of “Seonghwa, harder~”, his best friend's name that slipped out of your mouth like a prayer? How could he, after he had snuck a hand down his shorts, stroking himself to the rhythm of your melodious moans? He swore under his breath, making a promise to himself to just avoid talking to you alone until the gang clash was over, and he could finally leave.

That, however, proved very hard to do, especially with an intuitive man like Park Seonghwa in the premises. Being the observant person he is, he quickly picked up on Hongjoong's closed-off body language and evasive responses to your small talk. He immediately figured out exactly what was bothering Hongjoong, too. After all, on that night, Seonghwa was drunk but still aware enough to know that the younger man had probably overheard him fucking his needy girlfriend into the mattress. The only difference was that while it bothered Hongjoong and made him all flustered and embarrassed, it had actually been a major turn-on for Seonghwa himself. There had been plenty of instances when he had made out with or had sex with you in his office, the premise of possibly getting caught by his business partner always spurring him on. Sadly, Hongjoong had never actually walked in on it happening. However, staying in the same house as the two of you made it bound to happen. And it did nothing but excite Seonghwa. He would surely exploit this.

☆☆☆

Nearly 2 weeks into his and Seonghwa's stay at your dorm, Hongjoong laid across the bed, mindlessly reloading his messages. He groaned. Never would he have known that he'd ever actually miss the usual stream of texts from clients ordering from MATZ’s supply. It was quiet. Too quiet. He hopped up from the bed, opting to go watch a movie in the living room to pass some time. You and Seonghwa had gone out for a late-night convenience store run, and had taken Hongjoong's request for a dessert.

Plopping down on the couch, Hongjoong winced at the memory of sleepless nights on the cramped cushions. Sure, now he was sleeping in an actual bed, but with the things he's overheard next to his temporary room, was it really any better than the lumpy couch? His mind began wandering at this thought again. He bit his lip shamefully when he imagined your muffled moaning and whines from that night. He stared at the growing tent in his sweats, contemplating silently on whether he should do something about it.

Just as he was reaching for the boner between his legs, the familiar clatter and squeak of a key came from the door. Hongjoong quickly shoved a cushion over his lap and pointed the remote at the TV, playing a random movie to look occupied.

“Joong! Hwa and I are back!”

“And we got that rice pudding you asked for~”

You and Seonghwa walked into the living room, shrugging off jackets that were slightly wet from rainwater. Had it been raining? Hongjoong was too preoccupied with his thoughts to notice. He smiled gratefully at Seonghwa when he handed him a plastic bag, no doubt containing his beloved pudding. Hongjoong's eyes momentarily flickered up to the “MATZ” tattoo scrawled across his best friend's neck.

Drops of sweat and rainwater trickled down the blurred black lines and Seonghwa's dewy skin. Seonghwa was panting slightly, a red tinge on his pale face, possibly from running in the rain earlier on. Hongjoong's mind wandered again. Does Seonghwa pant like that and look like that when he fucks you? Would you kiss against his sweaty neck when he has you bent in half?

“Joong? I asked you if you need a spoon…”

Hongjoong snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Seonghwa speaking. He nodded quickly and mumbled a “yeah”, still avoiding eye contact with both Seonghwa and you. What the fuck? Why was he daydreaming about the both of you now? Maybe the lack of activity and work was really driving him mad. He didn't notice you standing at the nearby kitchen island, exchanging mischievous glances with Seonghwa who was leaning against the couch backing.

“Hey Hongjoong, have you been doing alright?”

“H..huh? What? Why are you asking?”

“You've been so closed off lately. Both Hwa and I have noticed it.”

Your voice was laced with sympathy, hiding your intentions. Hongjoong sighed tiredly and scratched at his neck. You made eye contact with your boyfriend, fighting the urge to smile at his knowing glance.

“Uh, yeah, I'm good… probably just getting used to the new sleeping arrangements.”

“No way, you miss sleeping on that crappy, old couch? I didn't take you for a masochist, Joong.”

Walking over to sit next to the younger man, Seonghwa prodded teasingly at him. You slid over and joined the duo on the couch, sitting on Hongjoong's other side. Hongjoong was still oblivious to yours and his best friend's movements, his fists clutched tightly on the cushion covering his rock-hard dick.

“I'm good… Just a little stressed about not being able to work, probably.”

“Ahhh, I see~ You must be really tense.”

“Mhm, look at him, Hwa! His shoulders are so stiff and tight.”

Without warning, you reached out and put your hands on Hongjoong's shoulders, giving an experimental squeeze. What neither you nor Seonghwa expected, however, was for a deep, drawn-out moan to escape from Hongjoong's lips.

Hongjoong's eyes widened and filled with panic at the realisation of what he did. Waving his hands frantically at yours and Seonghwa's blank stares, he jumped up from the couch and started talking at what seemed like a hundred syllables-per-second.

“Oh fuck oh shit I'm so sorry- I don't know why I made that noise, I've just been so tense and like stressed and shit- honestly speaking my shoulders are really sensitive, too, so like-”

The couch cushion slipped off his lap in his frenzy. Unbeknownst to him, this made you and Seonghwa notice the raging boner in his sweats. Hongjoong didn't even clock the knowing glance you and your boyfriend shared, instead continuing to ramble a stream of apologies.

“Hongjoong.”

“--I know, I know, it was extremely inappropriate for me to fucking moan in front of your girlfriend, Hwa!! Please forget what you just–”

“Kim Hongjoong!! I know you heard us fucking the other night!”

Both yours and Hongjoong's eyes grew as wide as saucers.

“Baby, what… what d'you mean?”

Your lips trembled, a deep blush appearing on your face as you hesitated to speak up. Your boyfriend had told you that Hongjoong had been sexually frustrated recently, but he'd conveniently left out the part about him overhearing the two of you having sex. Wait, was that why Hongjoong was horny in the first place?

Seonghwa offered you a soft, reassuring glance in response, the subtle clench of your thighs not going unnoticed by his sharp eyes. He quickly turned his gaze back to the man standing dumbfounded in front of the two of you.

He had never seen his best friend look so taken aback, flustered and embarrassed, all at the same time. Hongjoong's face was paused on an expression that screamed “oh-fuck-oh-fuck-oh-shit”. Seonghwa maintained a stern look, with you shifting uncomfortably behind him. The room suddenly felt very, very warm.

“Seonghwa, look, I….”

Hongjoong finally opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut off almost immediately.

“Do you wanna have sex with us?”

Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream. Hongjoong stared, bewildered, at Seonghwa, wondering if all the weed he did was finally catching up to him.

“I– excuse me?”

“Yeah, Hwa, what the fuck..?”

Seonghwa scoffed at both of you. He arched his neck onto the back of the couch, the tattoo on his neck seemingly dancing seductively against his skin as he did so. He slid a veiny hand down to your exposed thigh, cold rings against your skin earning a shuddering sigh from you. He smirked when he saw Hongjoong's boner twitch in his sweatpants.

“Don't act like you guys haven't thought about it! Hongjoong, I've seen how your eyes linger on my sweetheart's pretty tits when she wears her tank tops around the house. I'm not blind, I always catch you checking out my ass and my neck, too. You want both of us, don't you? And Y/N, right now, I can see you squeezing your thighs.”

Hongjoong watched with bated breath as Seonghwa's finger slid into the opening of your shorts. You jumped a little when his thick fingertip made contact with your soaking-wet panties.

“Fuck, babygirl, you got turned on from knowing that my best friend heard me fucking you into the sheets? You're so wet for us, so dirty, hm?”

You whined at his words, body instinctively leaning closer to him, before dazedly nodding in acknowledgement. Seonghwa smiled at this. He really knew your body and your kinks like the back of his goddamn hand. He then whipped his head at Hongjoong, who was slowly inching away, evidently debating between staying to see what was going to happen, or changing his name and fleeing the country.

“So? What d'you say to a threesome?”

“I…”

Hongjoong's eyes darted uncertainly to you. You were leaning against Seonghwa, eyes glazed over and looking very needy. Seonghwa cooed at you, at the same time reassuring the hesitant man.

“Don't worry. The two of us have talked about having sex together with another person. She's honestly as into it as I am, and who else would be a better candidate than my hot best friend?”

Hongjoong bit his lip in deep thought. Despite his years of friendship with Seonghwa, he did often think of the two of you at the same time, especially on those lonely nights in his bed. Even before he overhead you fucking. After all, you were a very hot couple. He attempted to reason with himself, taking a brief moment to weigh the pros and cons. But his dick was so hard it felt like it was gonna burst. And this could be the opportunity of a lifetime. Heck, it was practically being served to him on a silver-fucking-platter.

“Fuck, man, let's do it.”

♡♡♡

Seonghwa’s tough hands had gently spread your legs apart for Hongjoong. The other waited with bated breath when he finally got a good look at your damp panties. “Fuck” he hissed under his breath, and Seonghwa's lip quirked up into a smirk. Peering back up to look into your dazed eyes, Seonghwa parted one of his hands from your thighs to gently skim his fingers over your slit, causing your thighs to jolt. “Seonghwa~” you whined gently, turning your head into the pillow. “You're so wet babygirl” he murmured, glancing to Hongjoong who had been sitting there, his hands balled into his lap to keep them to himself.

“Go on joong, touch her,” he retreated his hand after skimming your clit through the fabric, another low moan falling from your lips. “And you, baby, don't move an inch” Seonghwa's voice spoke up once more, in a sterner tone this time. Hongjoong didn't have to be told twice, with a single look to confirm, he shifted to laying between your wide hips, guiding your legs over his shoulders.

You were soaked. Evidence lingered on the expansion of your panties, a dark patch of wetness that Hongjoong wanted nothing more than to indulge himself in. Taste and get lost in. His fingers parted your folds through the fabric, thumbing your clit gently as he ran his fingers around your slick. You breathily whimpered, already tired of the teasing - but willing to take it slow for Hongjoong.

“You look so fucking pretty,” Seonghwa groaned by your ear, lying next to you to hold your hips down. He knew you tended to get a little overzealous with your movements. You whimpered at the praise, guiding your hand through your boyfriend's hair to tug him on your mouth, a mess of tongue and teeth, the slight chill of his grillz, even when he pulled away to begin kissing along your neck. Generously pulling your shirt over your chest so he could shove his hands into the warmth of your breasts, kneading the flushed flesh.

“Not even a bra, fuck, wanted to play with these pretty tits as soon as I saw you in this tight ass shirt,” he hummed into your neck. Before you could reply, Hongjoong placed an open kiss on your clit through your panties, making you jolt.

Hongjoong’s tongue swept out to lick up the length of your cunt, humming at the taste of you, his nose ever so gently bumping against your clit every time he swipes through your folds, wetting you with his saliva and collecting all of the slick you've produced so far. A trail of heat building in your core from the foreplay, the rough pads of Seonghwa's expert fingers pinching and twirling your nipples has you clenching around nothing. With a whine, your head falls to the bed. “Hwa- joong- please,” you called out, needing to feel something in your pussy or else you'd go insane.

Or worse, beg for it. Hongjoong’s lashes parted to glance at Seonghwa. Lust, dark and heavy swirled in his eyes as soon as they clashed. Joong couldn't help but grind his hips forward into the bed, his cock catching at the front of his sweats, he swirls his thumb over your clit once again to apply more pressure. Watching Seonghwa squeeze once on your tits, exhorting another distorted sound from your lungs. “Are you gonna let Hongjoong play with that pretty pussy of yours, darling? Put his mouth and fingers all over you?” He murmurs, breath fanning over your ear.

You nodded your head eagerly, whimpering under your breath and shifting your thighs at the thought. The anticipation building up within you. Seonghwa's hand left your breast to grab your chin, pinching it enough so that your eyes popped open to see what he was doing.

Confidence was in every corner of Seonghwa's eyes, a dominance that would eat you alive. “Say it, sweetheart.” He purred, dropping his hand to crane your neck to look at Hongjoong, still rubbing circles into your sensitive bud.

His eyes - equally blown and lustful as Seonghwa's - were trained directly on you, your breath caught. “Hongjoong.. joong will you please touch my pretty pussy? Please.” You spoke with clearness, an eagerness only a person as demanding as Seonghwa would get out of you.

Hongjoong didn't need to be told twice.

He immediately dived in, tugging aside the crotch of your panties before attaching his mouth to your pussy. A loud moan tore from your throat when he began lapping at your already soaking folds. Surely your neighbours would've heard that, and would be complaining to you the next morning, but you could care less. He slurped relentlessly at your wetness, humming happily into your cunt, all while you squirmed and let out little “ah-ah”s for the two men. Music to their ears.

You cried out when Hongjoong's finger prodded the rim of your pussy, helplessly clawing at his hand to stuff his fingers in as far as possible. He scoffed under his breath, taken aback by your urgency.

“She's needy, isn't she, Joong?”

“Y-yeah, fuck…”

Seonghwa smirked at his best friend's reply, opting to tease him further when a mischievous remark came to mind.

“Bet you think about her crying for your cock, huh?”

Hongjoong blushed furiously at Seonghwa's cheeky accusation.

“S-shut up, man!”

He rolled his eyes at Seonghwa before stuffing his index and middle fingers into you. This pulled out a needy moan from you, twisting your fists into the sheets at the sensation of Hongjoong's fingers caressing your pussy walls. He couldn't help but groan at how your body just yearned for more and more of his touch. You clenched around on his fingers, cumming faster than expected. Hongjoong couldn't help but stare at you; breasts rising and falling from your orgasm, a thin layer of sweat that had formed on your dewy skin. He knew he just had to give you more.

Hongjoong looked nervously at Seonghwa, who was still laying leisurely across the bed and caressing your skin.

“Seonghwa… May I….”

“Hm?”

Hongjoong tried to speak up to the older man, but his words trailed off once more. Seonghwa knew what he was going to ask. And he already knew he would allow whatever it was. But was he going to let Hongjoong do it without saying it out aloud? No way in hell.

The prolonged eye contact between the two men made Hongjoong understood what Seonghwa was asking for. Sucking in a deep breath, he finally spoke.

“May I… Can I fuck her?”

Seonghwa's lips curled into a satisfied smile and he nodded, pleased with himself for having gotten Hongjoong to speak up for once.

Hongjoong fumbled with his belt, slipping it off with a click and pulling down his pants and boxers at once. His cock was rock hard and already leaking pre-cum. Even in your dazed state, you still marvelled over how girthy it was. It was not as long as your boyfriend's, but it was plenty thick and would definitely stretch you out. You whimpered when Hongjoong rubbed his tip over your entrance. He groaned at how your slick essentially served as a natural lube for him. Seonghwa cooed at you when you grabbed his hand for support.

“Aww, you wanna be stretched out by my best friend's cock, my love?”

“M-mhm, p-please~”

“It's his dick, not mine, sweetheart. Tell Hongjoong what you want.”

You mewled at Seonghwa's stern tone and turned shyly to the man standing between your legs. Sliding a hand down in between your thighs, you used your digits to stretch open your sopping pussy.

“Please fuck me, Joongie~”

If it was even remotely possible, Hongjoong felt himself grow even harder at your voice. How could someone be so fucking perfect? Who was he to deny you of your desires.

“Since you asked so nicely~”

Hongjoong chuckled and sank his dick into your hole, the wind in his lungs almost being knocked out from how perfectly warm you felt. He grunted and knitted his eyebrows in frustration, hips twitching slightly in place. It was taking everything in him not to just start thrusting into you at an animalistic pace. You sighed breathily when his girthy member pushed into you, whining quietly while trying to get used to his size. The entire time, Seonghwa was peppering kisses on your hand and rubbing his thumb soothingly over your forehead.

“That's it, love, you're doing so good for him, hm? It's almost like you were made for cock, baby, you look so precious right now.”

Your boyfriend hummed sweet nothings into your ear as you took deep breaths, your body slowly accommodating to take Hongjoong's thickness. When you were sufficiently stretched out enough, you nodded at Hongjoong, who gladly obliged to start moving.

The room filled with your whiny moans, mixed with Hongjoong's breathy grunts. Seonghwa watched on with a lustful gaze at the scene taking place before him; his best friend and business partner, rocking in and out of his sweet, beloved girlfriend's dripping pussy. He couldn't have been more turned on. He bit his lip at the sight of your cunt stretching out everytime Hongjoong pushed his dick into it, again and again. Your slick leaked out around his girthy member, giving it a sheen under the dim bedroom lights.

Seonghwa's eyes perked up when he noticed Hongjoong was starting to move faster. His thrusts grew more erratic and uneven, eliciting cries of “J-joongie wait!!” from you. Hongjoong was in the zone, his head thrown back and whines growing louder as his hips did anything but stop. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that he was about to cum.

This didn't sit right with Seonghwa. He could tell you hadn't cum yet, so why was Hongjoong rushing for his own orgasm already? Clearly he needed to be taught a lesson.

Seonghwa quickly got up and got behind Hongjoong, pulling him out of you and tossing him effortlessly onto the bed. You whimpered at the sudden loss of warmth, and Hongjoong let out a yelp of dissatisfaction. But before he could complain, Seonghwa held him down by his thighs and started furiously jerking off his leaky cock with his free hand.

Hongjoong's protests turned to desperate whines, his breathing growing increasingly turbulent, as his best friend twisted and pulled at his twitching cock. When he finally released, cumming all over his stomach and Seonghwa's hand. Seonghwa smiled, clearly pleased with himself. He jeered snarkily at Hongjoong.

“Looks like your stamina for fucking is the same as your stamina for your workload~”

Seonghwa then lifted his slender hand to his mouth, making it a point to slowly lick off Hongjoong's thick cum while making direct eye contact with him. The younger man watched with flickering eyelids, biting his lip so hard that it almost drew blood.

You watched the whole scene unfold with hooded eyes. Despite being upset over not being able to orgasm, you couldn't help but clench your thighs at the fucked-out look on Hongjoong's face.

After getting off Hongjoong, Seonghwa slid over to you, helping you to sit up and kissing you tenderly on your neck. Catching a look at your pouty expression, he murmured a quick apology and winked at you, before turning back to Hongjoong.

He'd finally recovered from his release, and was now looking irritably at Seonghwa.

“What the fuck was that for?”

“My sweetheart was nowhere near cumming, yet you were already chasing your own orgasm. Talk about selfish, Hongjoong.”

“Dude…”

Your boyfriend chuckled at the younger man's defeated body language.

“It's fine. We all make mistakes,” (cue Hongjoong looking offended as fuck) “Let me show you how to actually please an angel like her.”

Seonghwa laid you back onto the sheets, his eyes searching yours for any form of denial. Still such a gentleman even after he'd watched his best friend pound you like there was no tomorrow. You nodded eagerly, eager - heck, desperate - to give him any number of orgasms at this point. “My sweet girl,” he chuckled lightly into your ear, kissing down the valley of your breasts while slipping off his belt and pants.

You drooled at the sight of his cock lying against your thigh. No matter how many times you'd seen it, you could never get over how long and pretty it was. Flushed with beads of precum leaking from the tip, poised at an angle that hit your g-spot everytime without fail.

As Seonghwa lined himself up at your twitching hole, he turned to face Hongjoong, who was sitting on the other end of the bed and watching the two of you intently. His dick was already rock hard again. Seonghwa rubbed his hand up your thigh lovingly, actions clashing with the stern tone he would use to address the other man.

“Watch and learn, Hongjoong.”

He leisurely rolled his hips into yours, lengthy dick already rubbing against that sweet spot in you. You jolted at the sensation, hands immediately flying up to grip at his toned arms.

“Ah- ah, Seonghwa~!”

He grinned at how fast you were reacting for him, before setting a steady pace and leaving love bites all over your chest. He reached up to push your legs over his shoulders, strong grip leaving behind blurry red marks against your thighs. Your mind grew fuzzy within mere minutes. It was amazing how well your boyfriend knew your body. Your hands left his arms to curl into his hair, tugging lightly at his short, cute ponytail for support. His heavenly groans and your rhythmic moans mixed together like the symphony of an orchestra. Hongjoong could only watch and tug lightly at his dick, unsure of whose position he wanted to be in at that moment.

In between his heavy thrusts, Seonghwa made eye contact with you. He smiled radiantly, making your heart skip a beat. That loving, heartfelt look in his sparkly eyes and the expert movement of his hips pushed you over the edge. Your hips canted against his pelvis, orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave.

“S-seonghwa, I-!”

You let out a high-pitched mewl, body shaking as you creamed around your lover's dick. A white ring quickly formed around the base of his still-hard cock. Seonghwa hummed satisfactorily as he swiped at your dripping release and stuck his coated finger into your mouth. You gladly obliged, sucking on his fingertip, tasting the orgasm you'd given to him. The hazy look in your eyes only steered him on even more.

Seonghwa leaned down, voice barely above a whisper.

“Think you can give me another one, love? Maybe stick Joongie’s cock in your mouth while you're at it? After all, he didn't get to finish in you~”

“Hwaa….but only you can cum in me..?”

Pride bubbled in Seonghwa's chest at your response.

“Mmm, that's right, baby. But we have to give him some sort of consolation prize, especially since he's been so patient.”

Hongjoong's whiny voice suddenly cut him off.

“Fuck, the two of you are so frustratingly hot, but weren't you supposed to help me?? My balls are about to fucking burst, and you having your little moment isn't really helping.”

Seonghwa clicked his tongue, sighing dramatically at the man's impatience. He quickly made eye contact with you, smiling when you nodded, a green light for the night to continue.

“You're so needy, Joong… get your ass over here.”

You'd never seen anyone get up so fast and run over. Seonghwa sat on the edge of the mattress, directing for you to sit on his thighs, your back flush against his chest. Excitement tingled in your core when he lifted you easily, sinking you onto his erect dick. You closed your eyes for a moment, getting used to his lengthy cock resting in you. When you came to, Hongjoong stood in front of you, his own heavy, leaky dick out on display. His expression was a mix of relief and desperation.

“You ready?”

“Yeah, man, fuck, let's just get to it-”

“Shut up! I was talking to Y/n.”

Before you could giggle at the two men's bickering, Hongjoong shoved his dick into your mouth. You could feel it pulsating against the opening of your throat. Taking a deep breath through your nose, you began bobbing your head up and down on him. Hongjoong moaned shakily, hands finding the base of your neck for support.

“She's good at sucking cock, isn't she?”

Your boyfriend sounded proud. Hongjoong could only groan in response, nodding eagerly at the same time. Seonghwa quietly enjoyed the scene for a short while before he started to thrust lightly into you, veiny hands squeezing the plush flesh of your ass. You gasped around Hongjoong's girthy member, your whimpers sending vibrations through him. He couldn't help but shudder at the sight before him; his best friend's cute girlfriend expertly deepthroating him, while said best friend sat below her and grinded into her plush ass. Your plump lips enveloped Hongjoong's cock again and again, allowing him to fully enjoy the view. Watching the furrow of Seonghwa's eyebrows and beads of sweat dripping down his forehead was the cherry on top. Who knew such perfect scenery existed?

It wasn't long before both men's movements began speeding up. You whined pathetically, trying to keep up. Granted, they were both sensitive from the previous rounds, but so were you.

You began bouncing your ass on Seonghwa, while simultaneously gulping on Hongjoong. The three of you let out increasingly loud sounds that echoed around the room; Hongjoong's grunting, Seonghwa's frantic pants, and your desperate sobs. They blended together with the sounds of skin slapping and slurping to form a melody, one so lewd yet so exquisite, merely listening to it would be as good as taking an aphrodisiac.

Soon enough, Hongjoong climaxed, hot cum so thick and copious that some leaked out the sides of your mouth. You hit your third orgasm of the night, body convulsing at the overstimulation. Seonghwa came last, his breath hitching as he jerked his hips one more time into your cunt. Your mouth slipped off Hongjoong's dick, and you let your head fall back onto your boyfriend's shoulder. You dazedly swallowed the remaining cum on your tongue, making sure to make eye contact with Hongjoong in the process. You didn't bother to get off Seonghwa's dick, opting to sit on it and bask in the warmth that was his milky release leaking out of your used cunt.

The 3 of you panted heavily for a few minutes, clearly still processing one of, if not the best orgasm any of you had ever shared with another person. In this case, your first orgasm that you'd shared with 2 other very attractive people. You eventually spoke up, getting the attention of both men.

“Did… Did I do good for both of you?”

Seonghwa and Hongjoong turned your way, with a wobble in your voice you asked - struggling with your throat from the amount of dick you've taken.

“Good? Fuck, baby, we're high on you.”

Hongjoong and Seonghwa unexpectedly spoke at the same time, making you giggle at how in sync they were. Seonghwa glanced up at Hongjoong, who was still coming down from his high.

“You finally relaxed, man?”

“Mm, yeah, Joongie, you were the whole reason we even did this…” you trailed off, pushing your hair out of your face gently.

“You bet I am,” Hongjoong sighed contentedly, before adding on, “Fuck, I don't even feel like going back to work anymore.. “

“Then I'd better not find any more weed in my couch! You have something else to think about, now.”

Hongjoong's eyebrows raised at your remark - disappearing into his sweaty bangs - surprised by your energy level.

“Aren't you exhausted?? You just took 2 dicks, you should be knocked out by now.'' Seonghwa chuckled at Hongjoong's remark, swiping his hand across your sweaty back.

“Oooo, he's got a point, sweetheart…I bet you could go for another round~”

You groaned and pulled off of Seonghwa, throwing yourself onto the other side of the bed. You pulled the sheets tight over your body, but not before shoving a pillow at the two men.

“Forget it!! You guys are mean. I think Joong rubbed off on you, Hwa!” You whined, clenching your thighs tightly- fluids still dripping from your core, despite the urge to roll over from the men - Seonghwa was already tilting towards you. Lightly palming your hip with a grin.

“Come on sweetheart, let's get you washed up."

Author's note:

Omgomg my first ever collab with another writer ahhh 🙌 the two of us worked very hard on this fic!! I hope you enjoyed it <33

Taglist !!: @luckyblue98 @dazzlingstarrs @spideyyoung @st4rhwa @stolasisyourparent @peppermintlattelover @bincxtesworld @mxnsxngie @wisejudgedragonhairdo @vixensss @ygswl @archaios @lunaclipse @beargyuuzz @nvdhrzn @puppyminnnie @crybabyzo3y @lolno-2323223 @staytiny816 @hwasfavgf @novocainecoon

[thestarkinternship]

No Body, No Crime

Bucky Barnes AU x Female Reader: One Shot (Thriller/Horror)

Summary: Bucky finds you stumbling around in the woods late one evening. You're definitely acting strange, but what are you hiding from him?

Word Count: 2.7k (no mention of Y/N)

Warnings: Mention of murder, description of death/body, vomiting, profanity (If I missed something please let me know)

A/N: This is a little bit different than anything else on my blog so I'm interested in what you think of it. It's my first time really writing anything that could be classed as 'horror' or that gruesome side, but I hope you like it - plus there’s still some light tension between reader and Bucky because i couldn’t help myself

Masterlist

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Raven bodies soared through the sky and swooped through the open cornfield. The birds were free to do whatever they pleased here at the end of the farmer’s land – and so were you. The heavy burden of the duffel bag cut into your shoulder. You dropped it in the mud, sighing at the instant feeling of weightlessness.

They gathered around a motionless body, which sagged against the pole that it has been tied to. Thick rope wrapped around the limbs, weaving deep groves that pushed the skin to its limits. The head dangled by a few spare threads; its frown drooped at the ground.

It’s a shame, isn’t it? You sympathised with the scarecrow as the crows picked it apart. They collected on the body’s limp shoulders, their tiny talons digging deeper through the shirt to its soft flesh. Wind rippled through the slashes of the checkered fabric, swaying shadows up and down the cornfield.

You’re better off than ending up like that, huh? You nudged your bag with the tip of your shoes. There was no response from it, of course – but you found yourself whispering to it all the same. Your feet began to sink into the mulch, much like the scarecrow’s base. A wet feeling seeped through the canvas material, making each step that much harder. The laces strained as you tugged upwards to free yourself from the slimy grasp. Something that the scarecrow could not do.

Come on then. There was no more time to waste. It had already been one day since you had moved your ex-boyfriend’s body to your rusty car in that wretched bag. Two days since you decided multiple parts would fit better than one whole. Three days since you had delivered a deadly blow to the back of his head in his garden. Whilst removing his body, with it you had removed all lingering feelings for him. It was easier than it seemed, when your partner turned out to be someone you didn’t really know to begin with.

Grasping the bag, you turned on your heel and left the scarecrow behind. The bag slipped across the mud, allowing it to be dragged through the field with ease. The coat of mud would never come out of the fabric, but there was no more use for it after tonight.

The edge of the farmer’s field backed out onto a vast, wooded area that had been deserted and allowed to grow unruly with the lack of maintenance. Howls from unknown creatures tumbled out from the forest, and the hidden crickets bleated out a warning. Moonlight dispersed through the branches until it was nearly pitch black. Your pace faltered as you wandered into the trees. Who knew what else was in there?

“There’s nothing to be afraid of.” You whispered, voice trailing off. It blended into the whistles of the crickets and left nothing but a ghostly trace. A small voice was nothing in comparison to an empty void.

The bulk of the bag slumped against your calf, and you bit your bottom lip. You could’ve left it there to rot, at the edge of the forest. The contents would’ve turn to mulch in a week or so, oozing out of the bag into the edge of the forest. Eventually, there would be nothing but minerals for crops to grow. Well, at least he would be of use to someone. The bag pressed harder, nudging you forward.

You wound the long strap around your wrist for extra support. Knuckles turning white, you clasped it in the ball of your fist. The soft pine needles on the floor were not as smooth as the slippery mud of the cornfield, and the fabric snagged with every movement. Your body strained as you needed more effort to shift it. It was almost like something inside the bag was fighting against you. He always had to be awkward.

“Are you lost?”

Your head snapped up at the sound of a stranger, sending you dizzy. “I’m fine.”

Leaves crunched under their shoes as they got too close. You scrambled for the bag, grabbing out at the dark floor. Once you had it, you lugged it closer. Holding it firmly between your ankles, you couldn’t let them see it.

“Please, leave me alone.” You affirmed.

“Calm down. What’s wrong?”

Why do they sound familiar? Your brows furrowed as you tried to place the voice. Their shadow grew bigger. It was too late, and your options were dwindling. Your shaky hand waved a phone light in their direction. The bright light was stunning in the darkness. They finally halted, cowering their face with their arms.

“Hey! Turn that off.” They yelled.

It was a boy; he couldn’t have been that much older than you. He’s dressed head to toe in black, from his boots that are caked with mud to the hood that concealed most of his face. His glare was sharp as he studied you. You did the same in turn as you got a closer look at him. Bright blue eyes. Messy hair ruffled with dirt. An obnoxious smile that could only belong to one person.

“You’re the last person I expected to see out here, princess. Didn’t realise getting down and dirty in nature was your kind of thing.”

Bucky Barnes. Your older brother’s best friend. He always had the knack of showing up in your worst moments, so of course he found himself here with you tonight. Lowering your phone, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him. Even as the light from it dimmed, he still caught the irritated look on your face.

“What are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere? You burying a body or something?” He snickered at his own joke.

Your mouth ran dry as his joke nailed the truth spot on.

“Of course. Isn’t that why you’re out here?” You said weakly, hoping it sounded too ridiculous for him to believe, “or are you just stalking me? Either way, neither is a good look for you.”

Bucky chuckled and stepped forwards, right next to you. Through the earthy scent of the forest, you caught a whiff of his aftershave. It had lingered one too many times in your house when he’d been over to hang out with your brother. Usually, you’d complain that it gave you a headache, but now its familiar presence brought comfort into these desperate times.

“You’re one to talk about a good look, princess.” His gaze flitted up and down your body, taking in the mud splattered on your clothes. Slowly, he reached up and brushed some hair back from the side of your face. A leaf that was tangled into your roots drifted to the ground. His gaze found yours. “Does Steve know that you’re out here all alone?”

“I didn’t realise I had to ask my brother for permission when I wanted to leave the house.” You raised an eyebrow.

Bucky sighed as your tone of voice quickly put up a wall between the two of you. He lowered his hand away from your face. “That’s not what I meant. You and I both know that if he knew you were traipsing ‘round the woods at this time of night, he’d be pissed. Did you at least tell that boyfriend of yours?”

You didn’t dare speak. Was he technically still your boyfriend? Did murder equate a breakup? Do you refer to him in past or present tense? Because even though his rotten body was mere inches away from you, you’re supposed to be living a lie that everything is completely fine.

Silence enveloped the pair of you, until there was nothing but an owl hooting in the distance. You swore it sounded more like a laugh at the predicament you found yourself in.

“He knows where I am.” Well, it wasn’t a complete lie, depending on how you looked at it.

“Right,” Bucky nodded, though you suspected he didn’t believe a word that you said, “and that? What’s all that?”

His hand waved at the ground by your feet. Your gaze dropped to the slumped over bag, cheeks burning hot despite the chilly breeze. Sucking in air, you prepared to defend yourself. “It’s-“

“Too heavy?” The hard lines of Bucky’s jaw soften, “look, it’s alright. I don’t know what’s got you all skittish and you don’t have to tell me anything if you really don’t want to. But I can’t just leave you out here alone in the dark. Let me help you.”

“I can handle myself perfectly fine, thanks.”

“Always gotta be so tough.” He muttered under his breath. Choosing to ignore you, Bucky reached for the handle on the bag. You let out an irritated sigh, but protesting at this point seemed futile. If there was anyone more stubborn than you, it was Bucky Barnes. “On the count of three, okay? One. Two. Three!”

You both shuffled awkwardly through the forest in silence.

You estimated that you are about half a mile from the scarecrow now. The open field dwindled from view. The crows from earlier were nowhere to be seen, but their caws echoed in-between the trees surrounding the two of you.

“Shit.” You curse as you shoulder barged a thick tree trunk. Tripping up into Bucky’s side, you dropped the bag, and it thuds onto the ground. He reached to compensate your side at exactly the right time to receive a headbutt from you. You didn’t know what was harder – the tree or Bucky’s head.

“Hey, watch it.” He grumbled.

Sorry,” you muttered, “let’s try again.”

Sighing through gritted teeth, he picked up his side. It was getting later, and your steps grew clumsy with fatigue. Giving the bag a final tug to hoist it up, sudden relief washed over you as some of its weight was no longer a burden.

Looking down at your hand, you saw that you were just holding the strap. In the middle, it’s thinned out where it has been stretched to its limit. Part of the bag had come away with it. Through the gap of the missing handle, the sludge from inside dribbled out and down the incline in the forest. A putrid scent filled the air. The horrific, rotten smell curdled in your nostrils. Spit pooled in the back of your throat. Closing your eyes, you involuntarily retched the contents of your stomach out behind a fallen log. Your legs shuddered as you sat down on it with your back towards the puddle of vomit.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks, dropping the other side of the bag. His face tightens at the smell as he pulls his sleeve to cover his nose. You sniff at him, unable to string a sentence together. All you can focus on is the wretched flesh as it lies there exposed. Bucky leans towards you, closing in on the bag. On you. On the truth.

You lurch forwards. A shaky hand slips through something sticky, and you cringe. It’s almost enough to make you vomit again. You flatten the bag to the ground and scoop mounds of earth on top of it. Scrambling legs of hidden insects run across your fingertips, but you don’t stop until its concealed.

“Shit- are you alright? Hey, sit up for a second.” You felt Bucky’s firm hands on you. He pulled you up, back onto the log and planted himself down next to you. Hastily, you wiped your hands off on the sides of your waterproof jacket.

You stared at the half-covered bag together as your breathing hitched. The silence dragged on as you sized each other up. You fixated on his still posture from the corner of your eye. Your body went rigid as you kept yourself guarded. Your feet were pressed down into the solid earth, ready to spring into flight at the slightest hint of attack.

But it didn’t come. Bucky’s hands went limp in his lap, showing no sign of threat. The muscles in his face relaxed, but he kept staring forward at the bag.

“I knew that was why you were out here.”

You tried to swallow the lump that had caught in your throat. The breeze dropped and beads of sweat gathered on your forehead. You wiped it away with a clammy hand. He couldn’t possibly.

“Who was it?” Bucky’s voice was quiet.

“What?” You feign oblivion.

“In the… their name.” He prompted, waggling a trembling finger at the mess in front of you. You sighed.

“My boy- ex boyfriend. He… I found out…” You stumbled over the poor excuse. How should you tell him that you lashed out, overcome with blinding anger? That the shovel was in your hands before you knew it? Would he believe you if you say that you didn’t mean to take it this far? How you couldn’t report it without almost certainly ruining your life? The thought sent you dizzy, black dots clouding your vision.

“He was with Sharon, wasn’t he?” He confirmed on your behalf. The sound of his calm voice grounded you back into reality.

“You know her?” It was your turn to wonder the truth. Why did he know so much?

“Sharon was my girlfriend. But a few weeks ago, she started acting different. She didn’t want to see me anymore. Always had an excuse for everything. I confronted her, and she told me the truth. God, I was so angry. I paid your boyfriend a visit myself. But when I did, I saw a car out front, a blue… I don’t know-“

“A blue ford focus.” You whispered.

“And I saw you both outside. Him on the floor, you holding that shovel above his head. I knew why you’d done it. It felt like justice had been served, in a sick way. Honestly, if it wasn’t you, I might’ve done it myself.”

You sat by each other, taking it all in, and for the first time since he’d found you out there, you felt truly at ease.

“Did you follow me out here?” You murmured after a while. Not that it really mattered at this point. You were both equally as caught up in this as the other. But your curiosity piqued.

“Kinda,” he admitted, “went ‘round to your house to drop a book off that Steve lent me. Saw you weren’t home and had a feeling.”

“How did you know I would be here?”

He huffed softly at that. “Because I know you, princess. I practically live at your house every summer. You don’t spend that amount of time with someone without learning a few things about them. Or where they like to go to escape their brother’s annoying friend. I know you liked to go to the cornfields in the morning to pick strawberries when we were kids. So, I took a chance.”

“Well, I’m glad you did,” you say softly, “I don’t know how much further I would’ve gotten on my own.”

“Neither do I. You almost lost it back by that scarecrow.” He teased.

You nudged him with your shoulder, but there was no real force to it. “Thanks anyway.”

Bucky sighed deeply, before pulling a cardboard carton out of his pocket. A small click of metal and a tiny pinprick of light appears in the shadows. He raised the cigarette to his lips.

“You shouldn’t smoke.”

“Why? It’ll kill me?” He smirked in the darkness, smoke billowing into a cloud above.

He passed it to you, and you felt the heat between your fingertips. You tapped the ash to the ground, watching as it speckled across the remains of your ex. The tiny embers died out just as quickly as they were lit.

Bucky picked up a branch from the floor and snaps it in half, exposing the dry, inner wood. The metal of the lighter clicked once again as he ignited the stick. The orange flames illuminated Bucky’s calm demeanour. He tossed the flaming branch onto the mess in front of you. Together, you watched it go up in smoke.

“It’s alright. It’ll be our little secret.”

[lynnie-ee]

Day 7; Sweater.

╰┈➤"Sharing clothes with your partner is nice, you could say. But also quite useful to let others know you're already taken, and Cater knew that very well."

╰►Gender neutral reader, oneshot, 1,7k words.

╰► Character: Cater Diamond.

╰►Note: The prompts are based on words I found interesting and then I put them on a roulette to decide when I would write about them, lol. English is not my first language, so please let me know if there are any grammatical mistakes <3. Not proof read, I haven't written in a long time, so I apologise if anything is out of character.

Yes, I know I'm behind by 2 days. Yes, I'll catch up when biochemistry stops taking all my time.

╰►Masterlist / Inktober Masterlist.

⤿

⤿

Crewel’s classes were as entertaining as they were complicated, it was something widely known across Night Raven College.

Now, as (Y/n) stared at the board, they wondered how they could find the day's topic so interesting and fascinating even when they didn't understand even a word of what their teacher said.

As they kept debating whether they were stupid or just tired from all the assignments of the week, their phone suddenly vibrated in their pocket, making them quickly turn the screen on to see who was talking to them, finding a text from none other than their boyfriend, Cater.

‘Heeey, baby! What time do you get out of class?'

‘Like in 15 minutes, why?’

‘Nothing, I just want to see you<3’

“Pup, perhaps my class is interrupting the conversation on your cell phone? Or can I continue with it?” Crewel’s Stern voice made the Prefect leave their phone down, their gaze immediately going up to meet the frowning expression of their teacher.

“Yes, I apologize. Please continue sir, it won’t happen again.”

“That’s what I expected. Well, as I was saying…”

Soon enough, the bell rang to signal the end of the class, and the beginning of the lunch hour. The Prefect packed their things, leaving the classroom promptly along with Ace, Deuce and Grim, immediately encountering Cater as soon as they got out of the salon.

“We’ll meet you at the cafeteria.” Ace mumbled, already walking away to avoid watching how 'lovey-dovey', as he said, Cater became in the presence of the Prefect.

“Oh, Cater, how are you doing? I didn’t think you’d come to pick me up to my class.” The magicless student commented, smiling happily as the Heartslabyul third-year pressed a soft kiss to their lips.

“Like I said, I just really wanted to see you.” He replied chuckling, suddenly looking as if he remembered something. “It’s been quite cold these days, so I thought I might bring this for my lovely partner.”

“Is that your sweater?” The Prefect asked, as their boyfriend extended the red cardigan he usually wore back at his dorm, which was adorned by an embroidery of his characteristic diamond figure. As he nodded enthusiastically, the Ramshackle student promptly took off their blazer to replace it with the softness of the sweater.

“You look sooo cute, darling. I knew you’d look gorgeous with it.” The third year spoke cheerfully, but (Y/n) was able to spot something different about his demeanour, even if they couldn’t think about what was it exactly. “Let’s take a picture!” He suggested cheerily, quickly taking his phone out to take a quick selfie that probably would end up on his Magicam page.

“Does the picture look good?”

“Of course, stunning as always, darling! But the boys are probably still waiting for you at the cafeteria, don’t make them wait for too long. See you after class?”

“Yeah, I’ll text you when I finish my last class.” They bid goodbye briefly, and then the Ramshackle student resumed their way towards the cafeteria.

“Henchman, you smell weird.” Was the first thing Grim told them as soon as they seated at their usual spot at the table, making (Y/n) curious.

“You think? It’s probably because of Cater’s sweater, he wears a lot of perfume sometimes.” They mumbled nonchalantly, taking out their lunchbox to grab the sandwich they prepared beforehand.

“I don’t think he puts that much on his clothes, usually.” Deuce mumbled in between as he ate.

“Maybe he just felt like it today, who knows.” The magicless student settled the topic, as they quickly started to talk about other things, their lunch going as usual.

Not long after that, they came back to the classroom to attend their last class of the day, but as the Prefect went to their usual seat, they found a messily folded note on their desk.

‘Meet me outside the botanical garden after class.’

The rest of their classes went smoothly, as (Y/n) successfully managed to prevent Grim from falling asleep between lessons and prevented Ace from being discovered by Trein, as he was playing games on his phone instead of paying attention.

As the class finished, the Prefect told Ace and Deuce to go without them, asking them if they could watch Grim for a while as they had some errands to do, and after some negotiation (promising food to them if they accepted), they took the small beast as the Ramshackle student texted their boyfriend that they’ll take a bit longer before being free, but suggesting to meet at the courtyard later.

Then, they walked towards the botanical garden, as the note asked. The magicless student was well aware that it probably was some sort of joke of maybe someone wanting to ask them a favour, but either way, their curiosity got the best of them, motivating them to go anyway.

“Prefect, you actually came.” They heard a voice when they arrived at the Botanical Garden. As they turned around to see who was speaking, they were quick to recognize a first-year beastman from Savannaclaw. He was a dorm mate of Jack, they remembered, as he was one of the few students from that dorm who weren’t straight-up rude towards them at first.

“Well, you requested me for me to be here.” They mumbled, walking towards the student to talk properly.

“Yes, that’s because I-” The student interrupted himself, his demeanour suddenly changing when (Y/n) was close to observe the frown on his face, his features showing sudden distress and maybe even a tint of disappointment.

“Is there something the matter?” (Y/n) questioned with a confused expression, watching the beastman clear his throat as if regaining his composure, looking away from them.

“I...I apologize for making you come all the way here, I just wanted to ask you for your History of Magic notes, if you could lend them to me for a few days.”

“Oh, of course, I’ve got no problem with that.” The Ramshackle student answered nonchalantly, even if they felt like that wasn’t the reason they were called for. “That was all?”

“Yes, thank you for your time.”

“You finished your errands?” The third-year asked with his usual smile, as he extended his arms towards the Prefect, who nodded as an answer, extending their own arm to lace their hands together. “Anything…interesting happened?”

“Don’t worry, just remind me to give you my notes for the next class. See you.” They bid him goodbye as they walked back towards the main building, specifically the courtyard, where they spotted a certain redhead immediately.

“Not really, why?”

“Nothing, I was just curious.”

They started to walk towards the hall of mirrors, as they usually spent time in Cater’s room after class, sometimes watching movies, studying or even taking a nap, when the day was too tiring.

“Your errands surely must have been exhausting to you, sweetheart. Did you see someone unexpected around?” He asked one more time, still with his usual relaxed voice, even if it didn’t match the slight stiffness on his hand.

“You’re being awfully curious today, Cater. Is there any possibility you want to ask me something in particular?” (Y/n) questioned, stopping their walk so they could stand in front of their boyfriend.

“Hm, not really, darling, why would I?” He reassured, his smile adorning his features as if to mask his nervous demeanour.

“We’ve talked about this quite a lot already, my love, if you want to tell me something, you can do it.” The Prefect mumbled, moving their hand towards his arms to offer support.

“…Well, there might be a tiny little thing I might have heard today.”

“Did you?”

“Nothing serious, really! I probably misheard, so let’s go to Heartslabyul already-”

“I want to know what you heard.” (Y/n) stated, their voice steady but genuine, making Cater sigh.

 “Well, maybe I heard some Savanaclaw first-years talking on my way to class. And mayyybe, just maybe, I heard one of them telling his friend that he’d…maybe, confess to you today.” He muttered the last part with a lower voice, which didn’t match the relaxed expression on his face that the Prefect recognized to be forced.

“…Did you hear anything about the Botanical Garden?”

“…Maybe.”

“Well, that explains some things.” The Prefect sighed, recalling briefly their encounter with the Savannaclaw first-year merely minutes ago, until they realised something. “Is that why you gave me your sweater today?” They frowned slightly, not mad at all, and mostly just curious, but quickly confirming their theory as Cater’s face suddenly seemed startled.

They should have known by the way the poor boy seemed so disappointed when they got close enough for him to catch on the smell from the sweater that was obviously not theirs, but it had been ignored by them until now.

“Wait there, can’t a boy give their sweater to their partner on a cold day? Geez, I wanted to be nice, darling.”

“A sweater that was conveniently showered in your perfume, that would conveniently make a beastman know that I’m already dating someone? Quite a way to mark territory, besides all the pictures you post of me on your Magicam.” (Y/n) commented, chuckling after they saw Cater’s cheeks blush slightly.

“…That first-year doesn’t even have Magicam, how was he even supposed to know you already have a lovely boyfriend, hm?”

“I could have told him, if he had tried to confess.” They responded immediately, taking his hand. “I’m more than capable of pushing people away if they try to go after me, I’ll tell them right away that I have the most cute and caring boyfriend in this entire school, okay? Even if he gets a bit anxious sometimes.” They reassured, as Cater looked away.

“I’m sorry if it seemed like I was doubting that you could do so.”

“Don’t worry, I get it. Just talk to me and it’ll be fine.” The Prefect smiled softly as the third-year nodded, promptly moving his arm to involve them in a brief hug, that seemed to comfort him. “Now, we still have the rest of the evening to relax, don’t we? Let’s go to Heartslabyul before the boys go drop Grim at Ramshackle.”

“Haha, okay, okay. What kind of movie do you want to watch?”

“A romantic comedy!”

Cater gazed at them for a few seconds, observing the brightness of their smile and the affection that their eyes held when looking at him, making him wonder how he was lucky to find someone so understanding of him. A lot of people would compliment him and praise him on his Magicam posts, but only one spoke to him genuinely and out of love.

“Sure thing, baby.”

⤿

⤿

[avo-gal]

Varigo villian au lore (pt2?? Ig?)

Soz this took longer than expected lol.

So originally I had two ways for varigo to meet but this is the one I ended up liking more.

Varian

In this au when Rapunzel frees Quirin that was sort of Varian's breaking point bc Quirin didn't survive the Amber. Quirin possibly being alive and things going back to normal was the only hope Varian had left without that he.. lost it to keep it short. Andrew tries to work his way back in and Varian practically freaks out and kills him. Whether it was intentional or not he's still not sure. But a part of him that sick twisted part enjoyed it. So now his mission is to kill all those that cross him and in doing so rise to power. Varian in this au is (for lack of a better word) very insane. He's kinda similar to jinx from arcane? Except less childish. He's like a mix between Jinx and Silco personality wise.

Hugo

Hugo meanwhile is still a thief. He finds the abandoned village of old Corona and decides to raid one of the few remaining houses for any goods. That house was old and messy. The rooms were filled with blueprints, designs, lab equipment, tools, metal, etc. Hugo is fascinated with these designs and is a good engineer. that's when a raven haired boy sees him and initially freaked out and is about to kill him (which he's kinda into cause like damn). But Hugo is able to schmooze his way out of that with a good ol "I hate the rich. You hate the rich. We should kiss- I MEAN build these robots and weapons and take over the kingdom together!" Over the course of about a year (more or less) Varian and Hugo build everything and take over (it actually wasn't too hard). Hugo in this au isn't too different from his regular self. He's more energetic however and isn't afraid to get gorey. He is def a masochist in this au lol. Whilst Varian does constantly give him opportunities to have the same level of power as him Hugo never takes it. One reason is he does want the responsibility another may be that he likes being below Varian.

Varigo

Over all Varigo have a sort of situationship? They'll refer to the other as their partner, boyfriend, fiance, etc. But their relationship is very toxic. I wouldn't say manipulative exactly more power hungry? Or fear fueled? They do care very deeply abt the other (since they are the only ones that care abt the other) and if U hurt one of them the other wouldn't hesitate to kill you. But they often threaten each other physically and emotionally (and not always in a playful way). Hugo on the outside seems like he's only in the relationship for the money and sex and Varian seems like he's only in it for reassurance and weaponry. But they both have common interests and are almost unstoppable when they work as a team. There are a lot of layers to both of them the closest couples I can think of to reference them to is stolitz more so in the earlier seasons and maybe Harley Quinn and the Joker? I'm not very good at explaining their relationship but they are very fun to write lol.

Donella

I haven't given Donella much thought in this au. I think after finding out Hugo has taken over Corona with Varian she tries working with them offering her men and resources.

TTS Cast (may change)

Rapunzel, Cass, Eugene and the others have a sort of rebellion in the snuggly duckling. I haven't thought too much magic hair wise but I think Raps has lost her powers by now so they have a very low chance of winning. The current state of this au is abt a year after Vat7k would have happened.

Someone asked on the last post if I plan on writing a fic for this au.

The answer is not currently no. If I did write a fic for this I would want to have more planned out and there's alot in this au I'm still not sure abt. If it got enough attention or if someone also wanted to write a fic I might do a couple's one shots just to sort of show the characters and how they act in this au. But for now I'm prob just gonna stick with occasionally posting abt it. As I said if it gets enough attention or if I come up with more for the au then I might do something big or post more often abt it.

Okay byeee U guys are amazing make sure U eat today <33

🥗🍟🍕🧁

[faebaex]

Workplace Hazard

author note: i'm breaking my accidental writing hiatus bc I was watching TV and got inspired 😭 accidental mafia AU I guess bc I feel like it's given that Jade is probably going to be in some sort of shady occupation no matter what.

characters: Jade Leech x GN!Reader

When your partner works in a... Less than ordinary profession, there are certain risks involved.

You began your relationship with Jade Leech when you were in college. You both attended the prestigious Night Raven College, in the same year and in the same homeroom class. You were all too aware of his shady reputation and how he was considered one of the most intimidating figures in the college. Yet despite this, you found yourself entwined with Jade, your interests and personalities bringing the two of you together in a relationship that would transcend the cultural gap and difficulties that often persisted between merfolk and human couples.

When you both graduated from college, you went on to a career that blossomed from your fourth year internship whilst Jade carried on to closely work with Azul and his twin. Azul's humble Monstro Lounge grew into a service empire that encompassed ventures ranging from hotels and resorts, all of which Jade worked closely with as Azul's right hand man. Of course, Azul's under the table deals and predatory contracts flourished under the cover of Azul's corporation. Azul's public image considered him as a successful bachelor and a benevolent soul, but those who were unfortunate enough to not be able to fulfill their end of the contract had a different opinion. To them, Azul and his associates were a despicable mafia prettily gift wrapped in an illuminous reputation.

Jade Leech is considered a formidable and prominent presence both under the sea and on land. Employed officially as Azul's secretary, he also works as Azul's trusted right hand during his seedier operations. Such delicate work meant that Jade had accumulated quite the pool of enemies. And some of those enemies thought the best way to get back at Jade, was to get to you...

You had been waiting for Jade to come home, finishing up some of your work in your home office with an impatient sigh. Jade had said he was coming home days ago, yet he still hadn't showed. His messages were scarce and vague, filling you with a festering frustration that was slowly eroding away the edges of your patience.

A soft thump alerted you to a presence, and your eyes narrowed as you looked up from your work.

"Jade?" You called, reaching under your desk and discreetly pressing the button beneath the polished surface, your hand then slipping into your desk drawer.

"What time do you call this? You said you would be home days ago." You seethed, walking out of your office and making your way through your dimly lit apartment towards the front door. A quick, shadowed movement in your periphery has your head twitching to the side. "Jade...?" You repeated, feeling tense with the continued silence, a cold feeling crawling up your spine as you hesitated before a shadowed figure suddenly lunged quickly towards you.

....

Jade slid his house key into the front door smoothly, a constant low level vibration sounding from his phone in his inside pocket, alerting him of the panic alarm activated in his home. He twisted the key calmly, pushing open the door and entering without haste, closing the door with gentle precision.

"Darling, I'm home." Jade spoke in his smooth baritone, hanging his hat up on the coat hanger by the door. There was no response.

"I apologise, my love. Work has been terribly complicated at the moment. I do hope you could find it in yourself to forgive me." Jade continued, his polished shoes clacking through the hardwood floors of your shared apartment. Again, no response.

Jade's steps took him towards the lounge. As he entered, he saw a figure crumpled on the floor, their hands tied behind their back and their legs bound together. Another figure sat in an armchair in front of the bound figure, a baton twirling between their fingers as they looked up at Jade.

"Am I a joke to you, Leech?"

Jade's eyes lingered on the figure on the floor before they looked up at the seated silhouette with a smile on his face.

"Of course not, pearl. I would never dare to not take you seriously." Although his smile was genuine, it did have a hint of teasing to it, as if he enjoyed the thought of you all riled up. You tutted, your eyes remaining on the squirming figure at your feet before they moved to glare up at Jade.

"You said we'd go to dinner yesterday but you never turned up. I looked like a fool in that restaurant, all alone." You ranted bitterly, your lips pressed in a tight line.

"My apologies, pearl. Some clients can be so... Difficult," he crossed the room, stepping over the quivering figure, as if they weren't even there, so he could stand directly in front of you, "perhaps such misunderstandings would not occur if you attended one of Azul's restaurants, per my suggestion. I'd be able to get messages to you much easier that way." Your expression soured at that.

"I should be able to go to whatever restaurant I feel like when I've planned a dinner with my partner." You huffed, turning your face away from him and thumping the baton into your palm in frustration.

You felt the familiar feeling of smooth leather cup your chin gently as Jade's hand softly tilted your face back towards him, his eyes tender as he gazed down at you. "I'm sorry, darling. I'll endeavour for it to not happen again. It pains me to miss any precious moment with you."

You didn't soften at his words, continuing to pout and glare up at him, making a warm, fond smile spread across his lips. Jade leaned down, his hand still cupping your chin as he stooped so that his face hovered close to yours as he spoke quietly, "how about we go to dinner now? I discovered a restaurant with a fascinating menu you'd appreciate. I'm sure I could persuade them to stay open a few hours later than usual..." His thumb stroked over your bottom lip as he spoke, a loving gesture as he watched the worst of your wrath extinguish in your eyes, but the coals of discontent still simmering.

"Let me devote myself to you and make it up to you," he promised, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before he stood straight again, "but first, let me deal with this complication." His hand reached into his inside pocket as he pulled out his phone and speed dialled a number, stepping away from you and over the body on the carpet casually.

"Floyd." The bound figure immediately stiffened when it heard that name. "Can you come over? There has been a situation," Jade said smoothly, "there is a wayward remora here but unfortunately, I am terribly late for dinner so I cannot entertain them. I wonder if you could keep them company for me."

There was a pause, the room silent apart from the buzz of Floyd's voice through the phone as he spoke to Jade. For the first time since Jade had entered the lounge, his eyes slid down to the bound figure at his feet, the tender look in his eyes long gone as he stared down at the figure with hard eyes and a cold smile.

"But don't be too rough with them. I'd like to play with them too."

[notmaplemable]

Opinion on DragonSlayer?

Ah, Dragonslayer. Definitely has one of the better ship names in the RWBY fandom. Also I'm just going to you DS from now on because I'm tired.

Values and personality wise, I think they work well together. With Yang pushing Jaune out of his comfort zone, and being there for him when he falls down. And Jaune being there for Yang when she's feeling vulnerable and needs some support. They both have a way of keeping each other going in tough times. They're both very family oriented. Plus they can probably bond over being an older sibling, and maybe having some parental troubles depending on how you write the Arcs.

And yeah, the comparisons between Jaune and Taiyang are obvious.

Though personally I break DS down into two eras. Beacon era DS and post Beacon DS.

During their time at Beacon, I don't really see them getting together. I can absolutely see Jaune having a thing for Yang. You could even convince me that Yang has feelings for him as well, but I still don't really think she would. And even if she did I don't see her really perusing that relationship.

Mostly because I don't really think Yang would be perusing a romantic relationship during their first year at Beacon. She's looking for Raven. Trying to balance getting a bit a freedom and still taking care of Ruby while still giving her enough space to grow on her own a little bit. Not to mention just making sure Ruby doesn't get herself hurt. While also making sure Blake doesn't run off and do anything crazy again.

You don't have much time for relationships when your the team mom.

And if she was going to get into a romantic relationship, it would be with someone like Sun, Blake, Ren, or Pyrrha. Simply because Jaune hasn't really had a chance to show off the traits that would make them work well together to her, and she wouldn't value those traits as much as she would later on. She would just views Jaune as Ruby's friend and the guy who threw up on her boots.

But that doesn't mean that it can't happen, but you would need to force them together often and in ways where Jaune could show those positive traits of his. I've read fics that have done that. Or you could do an AU where they're partners, childhood friends, etc.

Now post fall DS is where it's at.

They've both had opportunities to mature over V4 and 5. Yang would certainly appreciate Jaune keeping Ruby safe when she couldn't. And I think would start to see more of Jaune's good traits, while certainly relating to a few of his problems in those volumes. Certainly the anger and charging in problems.

So I think that spark would be lit there, probably soon after they deal with all the Haven stuff. With some awkward flirting before they get to Argus. Once Jaune gets a little bit of closure with Pyrrha, then I'd think they would have a talk and try to figure something out there. With Saphron listening in of course.

So yeah.

DS has a lot to like about it. Jaune and Yang work well together and are both very family focused. While also having a good few areas of contrast to not make it feel like it's two versions of the same character dating. It just needs a little time to mature to really reach to peak of it's potential.

7/10 at Beacon.

9/10 after Beacon.

[peaceoutofthepieces]

hi! for the angsty hurt/comfort dialogue prompts, could i please request 7 for kevin and jean from aftg? i'm not sure if you'd like to write for these two, but still thank you and have a great day :)

wow you all really like seeing these guys go through it huh? (same)

in all seriousness i have lots of feelings about kevin and jean (individually and as a dynamic) so this is like therapy thank you <3

7. "I'm here. I've got you. You're safe now."

Kevin remembers everything.

To say he'd gotten away more lightly than others would not be a lie—even Neil was proof of that—but he had never been ignorant. None of the Ravens were. True, many never would have known the full extent of the darkness in the Nest, but all had at least a vague idea. All had at least borne witness to physical evidence in the things that could not be brushed off as rough play.

Kevin's sure that's part of why so many of them have fallen now. He, like the rest of them, had lived with it for too long, knowing that whatever else it meant to be there, it meant being the best. But he, unlike some of the rest of them, is no stranger to guilt.

He felt it, every time Jean showed up with a broken bone; every time a new welt appeared on Jean's skin; every time a new bruise marred Jean's neck in the obvious shape of teeth. He felt it in the broken French they shared, Kevin's apologies always feeling untranslatable in the end despite désolé being one of the first ten words he'd learned.

It was a funny thing, this guilt. Kevin was never directly responsible, given he was never himself violent and he was not even Jean's partner. His inability to prevent it was cause for guilt, of course, but he was not any guiltier for this than their other teammates. Kevin was not really in any way responsible for Jean Moreau.

Still, in some way, Jean had always felt like his.

It was more than the numbers on their cheek. More, even, than Riko's hold over them both, than their mutual love-hate for the man who had never, Kevin is now sure, spent a true second of care on either of them.

Kevin cared for Jean. Cares. Beyond any traumatic bond linking them together, beyond worrying that 'without Jean' would mean without anyone, would mean Kevin being alone in his hell, because he hadn't been, even then, and he certainly isn't now. Still, Kevin cannot, does not want to, forget about Jean.

But now, there is distance. Now, there is more guilt than ever before.

Kevin knew, at the time, that his lack of action would be something he could never make up for, but he had done what he could by being there.

Then he had acted, and it had meant abandonment, and he doesn't think that it something he can ever come back from.

So when Jean widens the distance, Kevin allows it, and when Jean gives him anger, gives him guilt, gives him violence, Kevin takes it. It is less than he deserves.

But when Jean calls, Kevin comes. It is more than he deserves, and the least he can do.

Jean's new teammates do not bat an eyelash at his arrival; they point him to Jean without hesitation. This, too, is more than Kevin deserves, but he does not waste time on that. Jean is waiting for him, and Kevin will not turn away from him again. He will not make the same mistake twice.

At first, Jean does not speak. He does not even look at Kevin; the slight stiffening of his shoulders is the only indication he knows Kevin is there.

Kevin isn't sure what makes him break. One moment, Jean is rooted in front of the window, staring blankly out, and the next he is turning on Kevin with a vicious stream of French. It's too quick, almost, for even Kevin to follow, too baseless and broken, a ramble more than a speech, but Kevin understands what he needs to. He understands 'you bastard'; he understands 'I hate them'; he understands 'he will not die'; he understands 'we can never be free'; he understands 'I hate you, I hate you'.

He understands, and it is less than he deserves, so he takes it, and does not retaliate as Jean pummels at his chest—weakly as far as Jean is concerned, but not weakly enough not to hurt. And finally, muffled into Kevin's shoulder where Jean has come to rest, but in English, so there is no want of understanding, Jean asks, "Why?"

Kevin does not have an answer. All he has is this—he gathers Jean in his arms and holds on tightly, keeps holding on when Jean weakly fights him, until eventually the fight has gone out of them both. Then, when Jean shudders and quiets and clings back to Kevin as if Kevin will turn to smoke otherwise, will dissipate and disappear, this time never to return, all Kevin can give him is this.

"I'm here," he murmurs; a promise he will never break again, not so long as it is his choice. "I've got you. You're safe now."

[garf-lover96]

alright so i was convinced that i didn't have it in me to write anything for valentine's day because i haven't had much motivation recently. but also over the past few weeks i've been paying a little less attention to Julian and that made me feel debilitating guilt so i locked in and wrote a short one..... i also projected my guilt on him so i wouldn't be alone in it. trafił swój na swego aaahaahahaaahaa happy valentine's day guys i love you❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

———

The handle of the back door rattles under Julian's jittery hands, almost making him drop the loose bundle of miscellaneous gifts in his arms as he steps into the shop. The place feels a little too quiet as he fumbles to put all the festive treats and trinkets down without making a mess, his coordination only worse in the frazzled state.

His mind has been wandering off into awful places ever since it dawned on him that the literal celebration of love takes place today. "Rowan is probably up in the apartment, heartbroken, crushed, absolutely devastated because of my ignorance..." he thinks, his hand beginning to claw at his hair anxiously.

He's instantly proven wrong by Rowan bursting through the door in an eerily similar fashion to his, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and guilt. It's almost painful to look at...

Before the doctor can get a word of his own apology out, his partner unintentionally cuts him off, taking a clearly distressed stance, trembling on his feet.

"L-look, I don't want you to think that I don't love or appreciate you— It's just that I've never really celebrated during the Heartsong Festival before and I had no idea that it was today until a client reminded me..." his eyes flit to the bag on his shoulder. It looks a lot more stuffed than usual, "...Excuses, sorry, I ran to get something for you as soon as I found out."

Julian lets out a relieved huff, as if a physical weight just got lifted off his shoulders "Darling, you do put on quite an act. You're so put together compared to me most of the time, that I just remembered I'm not the only mess in this relationship." with a shaky step forward, he wraps his arms around the other man in a tight and slightly sweaty hug.

"Don't tell me..." Rowan's eyes widen and land on the present pile occupying the shop counter. The sight makes him snort weakly.

"Yes, I forgot too, I'm so very sorry... And I have no excuse, I should've known better." Julian whines out shamefully and kisses the side of his partner's head, drawing a chuckle out of him.

"It seems like our guilty feelings should cancel each other out then. Is it working for you...?"

A moment of silence. Then the doctor speaks up again "...Er, no, not at all. I still feel horrible."

"We could just not think about it—"

"Would you really allow me some deflection as a festive treat...? You truly are the best love I could ask for."

Rowan scrunches up his face in a bashful smile and gets his hand free from the embrace to start ticking ideas off on his fingers "Hehe, so our distraction options are... Romantic leftover dinner or attempting to get a spot to eat somewhere in town, I suppose. Which is going to be hard, obviously..."

"Or we could have a spontaneous picnic at the docks. Or go for some drinks at The Raven— a little later, that is. Or we could just stay in and enjoy each other's company, that's always lovely."

Nodding thoughtfully, Rowan slowly turns his head back to the counter "Yes, right, so many brilliant options... I think we should ruminate on them while we exchange the gifts though. The suspense is killing me, you know."

Julian hops back a step, still holding onto his partner's hand "Ah, of course! You'll have to forgive me for the lack of any flowers, they only popped back into my mind when it was too late to turn back... Oh, and happy Heartsong Festival. I love you, Rowan."

"Aw..." he reaches up to guide the other's face closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, "And I love you."

[diagonal-queen]

The Moon and the Sea

♡ pairing: Paul Verlaine x Arthur Rimbaud

♡ synopsis: After a hard day, Verlaine finds solace in the arms of his partner.

♡ wc: 1.5k

♡ cw: Stormbringer spoilers(?), Rimlaine are extremely sad and gay

note: "i want to write a oneshot about some really beautiful but tragic gay men but i cant think of anything" i said to @small-chaos. they replied "Everybody talks about the moon and the sun but nobody admires the beauty in the relationship between the moon and the sea" and then this brainchild was born. thanks bestie <3 i would also like to shoutout @gettinshiggywithit for helping me complete this when i ran out of brain power, thank you lovely 😚😚 apologies for errors and I hope you enjoy x

The early winds of autumn were warm and gentle, relieving busy Parisians of the sticky summer humidity as the changing season set itself in motion. The sounds of evening began to die down, leaving only the rustling of brown and orange leaves in its wake. Yet, one man hadn't been privy to this particular noise, as all his windows had been closed as soon as he'd first entered the apartment the week prior. All he could hear was the crackling of fire and his own chattering teeth.

Rimbaud found himself growing colder by the minute. That night, he sat shivering on a sofa right before the fireplace, with a thick fluffy blanket wrapped around him. Despite the fact that he was also clad in several layers, a thick grey coat, a large scarf, mittens and earmuffs, he still felt like he might succumb to hypothermia any second.

He wanted nothing more than to leap into the fire itself, but he sat as still as he could and waited. Verlaine was supposed to be back soon, and when he knew that he was alright he would be able to go to their shared room and sleep (somewhat) soundly. That was what he'd planned, at least.

After hearing the sound of the door unlocking, Rimbaud bowed his head as Verlaine entered the apartment and closed the door behind him. He momentarily glanced at his partner, before doing a double take in shock.

Verlaine looked...dishevelled. He wasn't so dishevelled that a stranger may take notice and ask him about it, but for Verlaine, even a loose strand of hair was unusual. Rimbaud immediately knew something terrible must've happened.

"Paul, you...!" Rimbaud sat up, eyeing Verlaine who didn't seem to want to return his gaze. He silently walked, or rather stumbled, over towards the couch where his partner was sitting.

Rimbaud had never seen Verlaine act in such a way. Sure, he could come off as aloof from time to time, but today he didn't seem bothered to hide the fatigue he was feeling. Even his complexion seemed paler.

Verlaine then kneeled on the sofa, before his whole upper body flopped on top of Rimbaud, who let out a soft grunt at the impact. He tried to adjust his posture, but now that Verlaine was slumped on top of him he found it difficult to move.

"Are you alright?!"

"I'm..." Verlaine pushed his hat off his head, letting it fall to the ground by Rimbaud's shoes. "...I'm tired."

His umber eyes seemed unfocused, staring somewhere Rimbaud couldn't see.

"What happened to you, Paul?" The raven-haired couldn't help but feel concern bubbling inside him, and the question came off with more urgency than he'd intended it to. Not that it mattered- Verlaine never seemed to care about things like that.

Verlaine didn't answer for a moment, just letting out a breath that he seemed to have been holding in for a while. His face contorted into a slight grimace.

"...Paul?"

"...I don't want to talk about it now."

In spite of his worry, Rimbaud didn't press him further.

The room was bathed in a golden hue from the fire before the couch they were draped upon. It subconsciously gave a feeling of comfort to Rimbaud, who suddenly noticed how tranquil the atmosphere was despite the fact that he was trapped beneath Verlaine's roughed-up form. He realised that he wasn't shivering so violently now. He was still cold, of course, but Verlaine acted as a soothing source of warmth.

Rimbaud's gloomy eyes gazed down at Verlaine, whose eyes had closed by now. There was no blood on his person, of course, but his slightly dishevelled blonde hair and wrinkled clothing weren't any less cause for concern. For something or someone to have even a slight effect on a creature as powerful as Verlaine...

Rimbaud steadily moved his gloved hand and, after a moment of contemplation, placed it atop the back of Verlaine's head as gently as he could muster. Verlaine didn't react. Rimbaud let out a deep exhale, and cautiously ran a hand through his soft golden locks.

The small room the two were temporarily staying in, an apartment in an old Haussmann-style building located on the outskirts of Paris, was silent. They had become accustomed to moving around as frequently as their job required, and had never bothered to modify any of their living spaces to feel more homely. Rimbaud only cared about where Verlaine was, and Verlaine didn't see much merit in interior design. Yet, something about this place felt inherently intimate, or so Rimbaud thought.

"...Rimbaud?" Verlaine suddenly mumbled. Rimbaud cast him a glance, his face half obscured by blueish shadows while the other half glowed in the yellow light.

"Hm?"

"...I heard something in passing a few days ago," he began, almost as if he were unsure of his own words. "It was about love."

"Love?" Rimbaud creased his eyebrows, perplexed. If one were to ask him anything that Verlaine may bring up in conversation, love wouldn't have been in his first thousand guesses.

"Yes, love...I heard someone compare the concept of soulmates to the sun and the moon," Verlaine continued with a faint voice. "I don't quite understand it."

"Well..." Rimbaud's tone was slightly shaky. "You know the phrase 'opposites attract', don't you?"

Verlaine let out a small noise but Rimbaud couldn't tell whether it was affirmative or negative. Regardless, he continued.

"It means that two people who are different from each other are likely to have a better relationship. The 'sun' person would usually be more outgoing and cheery, while the 'moon' person is more introspective and quiet..." He bit his thin lip and then added, "Not unlike you, Paul."

Verlaine shifted slightly, his hand perching itself on top of Rimbaud's chest.

"Not unlike me...?"

"That's not to say that introspection and quietness are bad things," Rimbaud quickly spoke. "I just mean that...they're traits that suit you well. The 'moon' caricature as a whole suits you well, in fact."

"The moon..." Verlaine muttered to himself. "So far away from the rest of mankind...perhaps I am like the moon."

Rimbaud wanted to comfort Verlaine, to reassure him that he wasn't far away from anybody, especially not him, but the words wouldn't form on his tongue. He felt as if he should have been better at this by now; after all, it was far from the first time they'd had this type of conversation.

"If I am the moon then you're the sea." Verlaine suddenly announced, snapping Rimbaud out of his train of thought.

"The sea?" Rimbaud repeated, quietly. "...I don't understand."

"The sea is complex, full of mystery. You can never predict the force of the ocean's waves as they crash on the sand," Verlaine breathed, as if he were reading a poem. "You are deep and dark, Rimbaud. You're full of undiscovered secrets...and..."

He lifted his head up, lidded brown eyes staring straight into Rimbaud's. "We might be opposites, but I don't think you're a sun."

Rimbaud's breath hitched in surprise. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Verlaine's, whose tired gaze still burned right through him.

"Every day I survey you from afar and it feels almost like you glow when I look at you. How strange is that?"

The black-haired man couldn't tell whether or not Verlaine's question was rhetorical or not. Even if it wasn't, he probably wouldn't have been able to come up with a coherent answer. He was frozen in surprise, unable to break the tense silence between them.

Verlaine's hand moved from Rimbaud's chest to his cheek, gently cupping it while his thumb began to rub circles over his soft, pale skin. The blonde man seemed to be in some kind of fatigued haze.

"The saddest thing is how unattainable you are. But I know that if I were ever to fall..." Verlaine leaned forward, his breath tickling Rimbaud's face. "You would be there to catch me, wouldn't you?"

Then, without giving him the chance to answer, Verlaine brought his lips to Rimbaud's. His grip on Rimbaud's cheek tightened ever so slightly as he deepened the kiss, almost smiling when Rimbaud placed his hands on his back and squeezed.

"Paul-" Rimbaud tried to start when he pulled away, wanting to ask if they should be doing this or if it was really alright, but Verlaine just placed a finger to his lips.

"Shh..." the corner of Verlaine's lip turned up. Rimbaud's cheeks flushed red, and he quickly dove back into the kiss.

Aside from pulling apart for air every few seconds, the pair remained in their gentle embrace until Verlaine eventually pulled away, leaving Rimbaud breathless, and laid his head down on his chest.

"I'm tired, Arthur..." he said, before closing his eyes. Verlaine must've been exhausted- he never called Rimbaud by his first name. It made his heart skip a beat; something he hoped that Verlaine didn't notice.

With the state he was in, Verlaine probably wouldn't remember this in the morning. Rimbaud decided that unless he bought it up first, he wouldn't say a thing about it, no matter how much he wanted to.

And thus, the pair never spoke of that night again. 

taglist~ ♡ @gettinshiggywithit, @fyodorhatr, @flower-of-darkness, @bejeweledgirl

[luv6r]

i definitely forgot how to do this but hey. i'm venus, a 21+ writer looking for partners for discord 1x1s! pretty please read this full post before reaching out — it's kinda strict over here. below the cut we got some rules, writing prefs, and faces. anything bolded is a want, anything bolded & italicized is a favorite. once you’re done, feel free to like this or im me for my discord. thanks!

ground rules

i don't write with minors.

don't bug me for a reply for at least 72 hrs, i do be busy.

some godmodding is ok.

i'm all for mature themes. (3-3-3 writer) um, just don't be weird about it.

don’t come to me with just vibes and expect me to do all the brainstorming, i’ll leave you on read

writing prefs

ship types: m x f, f x f, m x m ; i can play either, but i'm partial to playing the femme role.

tropes: childhood friends to lovers, exes to friends, lovers to strangers, celeb x non-celeb, forbidden attraction, fake relationship, enemies to lovers

media i draw inspo from: here's my musings tag and a link to my pre-established muses. of course, we can brainstorm anything and anyone else!

worldbuilding necessary! i use tuppers and the whole nine — i like development based plots that build on lore.

faces*

bolded = want to play

italicized = want to play against

females

latto, mariah buckles, sabrina carpenter, saweetie, raven tracy, jatavia johnson, sydney sweeney, megan pete, solana rowe, india love, rubi rose, leah halton, brooklyn nikole, ft.gioo, ariana fletcher, madison beer, lori harvey

males

polo g, ja morant, jacob elordi, robb banks, key glock, future, gunna, rudy pankow, duke dennis, 100krob, jalen green, shai alexander, playboi carti, brent faiyaz, jayson tatum, any of them fine ig young men

*this is not an ehaustive list. brainstorming very welcome

[wholesomefluffdaddy]

Wednesday's new court mandated therapist is having her keep a journal of her thoughts and feelings. Wednesday finds this to be a complete waste of time and decides instead to use it to record her observations of her unusual roommate Enid Sinclair. Wednesday POV.

——————————————

Entry 6

Current Moon Phase: Waning Gibbous 🌖

Enid was most apologetic following the events of the Hunter's Moon. I was dismissive of her apologies as I explained countless times it was my own fault which caused the misadventure of that evening. Either way, Enid was determined not to leave my side for any extended period of time without informing me of her whereabouts and time frame for returning. This eased my guilty conscience and irrational fear of her suddenly disappearing. I find it most irksome that I will likely have much to discuss with my therapist at our next meeting.

Yet again I find myself getting off topic. The waning gibbous moon, with its close proximity to the full moon and comparative fullness to the waxing gibbous moon, has had an interesting effect on my werewolf subject: resource sharing. Enid has taken it upon herself to fetch sustenance for me with or without my request. Could this be a concomitant of the Hunter's Moon? Perhaps she wishes to ensure that the members of her pack are well fed. However, if this is indeed the case, then I appear to be the only member of her pack as of present; for she did not fetch food for anyone else as to my knowledge.

Regardless of the reasoning I thanked Enid each time she brought me sustenance. This seemed to delight her most greatly as her face lit up every time I did. Her smile-

During an instance in which Enid was not at my side I slipped away to the library to conduct research on 'scenting' and other such werewolf mannerisms. If I am to be a pack member I feel that I must be informed. From what I gathered 'scenting' is used to denote territory, possession, and a sort of kinship among werewolves. I use the term 'kinship' loosely as I found a significant lack of information surrounding the 'scenting' of peers. The only literature available indicated that werewolves 'scent' close partners or mates.

I can only assume that other publications go more in depth on this subject and include the act of 'scenting' to extend to family and pack members. I shall have to observe Enid closely during the next Family Weekend to confirm my hypothesis. In the meantime I may consider reciprocating 'scenting' to affirm our bond as packmates. Perhaps I should also consider demonstrating my hunting prowess and bring Enid a token of my gratitude for the deceased squirrel she gifted me the night of the Hunter's Moon. Speaking of which, I shall have to remember to stop by Uriah's Heap to check on its taxidermy progress.

Dear Diary,

I feel terrible! 😣 Willa has been an anxious mess since I escaped the Lupin Cages during the last full moon. I never meant to hurt her. 😥 I keep trying to apologize but she just won't hear it. She keeps blaming herself. I'm trying my best to make it up to her. I've been letting her know where I'm going and when I'll be back. I think that's helped?

I still feel the urge to hunt but at least that instinct can be managed by 'hunting' down snacks at the cafeteria. 😋 I've been giving these snacks to Willa. She seems to really like them. She gets this cute little embarrassed look on her face and says thank you - but of course in her own very Wednesday-like way of 'Your acquisition of sustenance on my behalf to ensure my continued survival is greatly appreciated.' Willa. Babycakes. A simple 'thank you' is enough. 😅 I swear I've seen her blush a few times too!

Anyway, I think I want to take her out somewhere nice and creepy to apologize for making her cry. 😥 I was thinking of like a cemetery or something but then I remembered Tyler 😡 took her to one on a 'date' once. My claws itch just thinking about him. I swear to god if he ever goes near my Willa again- Sorry about the ripped pages Diary, I kinda wolfed out for a moment.

Thing recommended going to a play at the local theatre in Jericho. They're putting on "Macbeth." I think Willa would like that. Speaking of things Willa likes… I think she's flirting back? I don't know! 😖 She brought me a dead spider in a box. 😳 What does that mean? She said she was 'returning the gesture.' I think she was talking about the dead squirrel I brought her? (Which important side note - I don't know what she's done with the squirrel. 😰 I can't smell it in our dorm room anyway. Hopefully she tossed it. I don't know what I was thinking. It was all wolf brain.)

Um also! I know I've joked about Wednesday acting like a grumpy cat but she's starting to act like one more literally. 🙀 She's been, um, rubbing up against me. I'm not going to lie - it's cute as hell and I just can't! 😫 It gets me too worked up and I just start wolfing out and I want to squeeze her! I feel bad because I can't help but start scenting her aggressively after. At least she seems to tolerate it. I am so sorry Willa! 😭 Please don't bring me more spiders!

[theguynamedcrashy]

Yuuken Birthday Week Day 2: Kendo Training

First off, happy birthday Kalim!! When I was making these prompts I totally forgot Kalim's birthday would fall on one of the days. So of course I had to include him this time around. This is now a canon occurrence to me. Yuuken often does kendo training with Silver, but now after writing this I'm definitely imagining it was Kalim that brought them together. Yuuken is heavily autistic can you tell by how I write him

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Hah!” Yuuken’s grip on the bamboo sword was tight, swinging away towards the dummy hanging from the leafless tree. He hasn’t had time in the recent months to get some training in. His heart swelled, being able to practice kendo for the first time in a while. “Yuuken!!” A familiar voice echoed out from below the hill, the figure of rapidly waving hands standing at the end of the road that meets with the dirt path up to Ramshackle. “What’re you doing up there?!” It was Kalim, rare to see him alone without Jamil with him. He looked right in place under the sun, shining brightly enough to rival the star itself. Yuuken couldn’t help the smile that came to his face. “Good to see you Kalim,” He said, watching the Scarabia dorm leader rush up the hill to his side. “I’m just doing some kendo training.” “Kendo..? What’s that?” That familiar thrill gathered in his chest, it always seemed to happen whenever he got to talk about something he was passionate about. “Kendo is a sport that involves sword fighting,” He started, handing out his slightly scuffed bamboo sword to be inspected. “You use the shinai, ah, it’s sword made of bamboo to strike at the opponent.” “People don’t get hurt, do they?” Kalim asked, taking the sword in his hands. “I can’t imagine you playing a sport and injuring people, Yuuken.” “No– no no it’s nothing like that,” He couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Kalim was a bit naive, but he understood that curiosity. “There’s specific points where you have to strike on your opponent, but it doesn’t hurt them. You can feel there’s no sharp edges on that sword, plus-” He knocked on his armor, hearing the slight dink! of the harder outer shell. “-the armor is there to protect you.” He could see in the older boy’s eyes how he was trying to wrangle the information in his head. For a moment he was nervous he rambled, maybe explaining things when there was no explanation needed. He could vividly remember the kendo club liking when he explained the rules to them the first time, but well, then the fifth or sixth time got too much. Nor was there a great response after he explained the rules for the tenth time. “Oh!” A quick shout brought him back to the present, Kalim’s face beaming back up at him again. “I get it! It’s kinda like what Silver does!”

“Silver?” He’s seen Silver around campus. The quiet second year who seemed to nap in the courtyard or in class. They’ve talked a few times, but never anything beyond greetings, or the occasional overblot. “He does kendo?” “Well, no, I don’t think it’s kendo.. It’s sword fighting. With actual swords,” “This is a real sword.” “Well, it’s a different type of sword!” Kalim laughed. “They’re metal and they got the sharp edges! Silver invited me to hold one of his swords one time, boy was Jamil mad when he saw me holding it! Ahahah!” It may have been a different type of sword fighting, but even the mention that someone else in Night Raven College did a sport similar to kendo… How he wished he could tell Koito and the others. “Can I meet him?” The words spilled out faster than he intended. “I mean– I haven’t had an actual training partner in a while.. And if you say he’s already familiar with swords, I’m hoping I can get him to train with me.” It sounded a bit silly when he said it out loud. But Kalim’s smile only widened, the sword getting tossed to the ground as he grabbed Yuuken’s gloved hands. “Silver would be so excited to get another training partner! He usually trains with Sebek, and I tried to offer but Jamil shut that down fast,” “Sebek knows too?” His chest felt light with excitement. “Can I go ask them?” “Of course! Here, I think they’re actually training together around this time! C’mon, follow me,” Before he could be pulled away by the excited Kalim, Yuuken gathered his sword off the ground. Getting further away he could see the dummy he made hanging off the branch. It was nice, and he’d still practice with it sometimes, but nothing could beat the actual exchange between two partners. “Thank you, Kalim,” “Hm?” The dorm leader glanced back, red eyes sparkling bright. “No need to thank me!” “It means a lot to me. Really,” He fixed the sword under his arm as they walked. “Back at home, I… I started a kendo club. It took a lot of work. I gathered up the members myself, and our school was about to enter its first match in years.” His lips drew a thin line as he thought about it. At this point… That would’ve been months ago. Months too many.

“The night before the match… That’s when I got sent to Night Raven College.” “Right, right. Cause you’re not from this world..” It was rare to hear Kalim’s voice go soft. “So, you missed it?” “Hah…” A joyless laugh escaped him. “Beyond missed it. A part of me worries the team thinks I abandoned them.” “Aww, Yuuken..” The hand holding his squeezed, a pressure that was enough to feel like someone was there. “I’m sure they understand! And when you get home, you can tell them all about Twisted Wonderland!” “...I’m sure they’d love to hear about everything,” Yuuken picked up the pace, squeezing Kalim’s hand with his own. “Come on, we should hurry up.” “That’s the spirit!” 

[ruling-lady-daisy]

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 𖥨 Baby if you thought that I was trouble then you’re gonna hate what’s coming next: Threading  𖥨 Made so many blank slates I could build a whole fucking house: Musings  𖥨 I’m on a one way trip to take over the world: Challenges  𖥨 Though she be but little she is fierce: Visage  𖥨 All the world's a stage: Aesthetics   𖥨 A toast to the visionaries: Main Site  𖥨 Gold runs in our veins: Family  𖥨 If we’re living the dream hope we never wake up: Partners in Crime  𖥨 The course of true love never did run smooth: Romance   𖥨 We’re all friends now so maybe you should be scared: Ladies  𖥨 It’s poker he can’t see it in my face but I’m about to play my ace: Heirship  𖥨 But I believe in you I'm your number one fan: Collaborations  𖥨 Set Down Our Deeds: House Penrose 

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𖥨 Ivory / 23 / EST / Triggers: DV & non-con 𖥨 Site Owner & Queen for A Song of Golden Fire and Black Blood 𖥨 Writing + RP’ing for 12 years / Armchair Professor of Media Analysis / Anti-HotD & Pro-All the characters deserved better

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𝐵𝑒𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝒹 𖥨 @marwyn-corbray

𝐵𝓇𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝓈 𖥨 @hal-the-harper 𖥨 @alesanderpenrose

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[lycorogue]

Latest Story: I Think I Like You (Maybe More Than I Should)

For @mostlovedgirl-writes

A companion story for her work Ha! You Think That’s Embarrassing? 

MLG, I warned you that you sparked something! What's worse is that I had this story done on May 14th, and it just kept me this long to sort out what to title the darn thing! 😅[smile with sweat emoji]

The Aged-Up AU that MLG created for her MariChat May ficlet was just too enticing for me to leave alone, so, naturally, I nearly quintupled her story as I retold the same tale but from Adrien's POV.

Why do stories keep running away from me like this!?

I want to send so many extra kudos and just general love MLG's way. I barely wrote anything the past two years. Because of MLG, I have now written my SECOND 7000+ word story in a month (the 1st story wasn't due to MLG, but still...)!

Also, I had I Think I Like You by The Band CAMINO on a constant loop while writing this story (which is how I finally landed on a title). So, if you want some mood music, I'd suggest using that.

Summary: Adrien is intrigued by one of the junior designers at his father's company. Maybe more intrigued than a few passing interactions with Marinette would warrant. At least, that's what Plagg jokes when Adrien notices Marinette on an abysmal date and decides to intervene... as Chat Noir. **An AU where Adrien and Marinette (as their civilian selves) never met as teens** Rating: General Audience (does contain the word "shit" once) Word Count: 7,974 Estimated Read Time: 40min Status: completed one-shot Continue reading below, or find this story over on AO3, on FFN, or on DA.

I Think I Like You (Maybe More Than I Should)

Adrien's brain began fogging over. He knew he was the face of the Gabriel brand, but did his father truly need him to sit in on every partnership meeting? He was little more than a fancy doll paraded out to lock in a new deal. Especially when he wasn't allowed to add any actual input.

Just smile. Say some pleasantries about wanting to work with them. Talk up the brand. Look pretty and professional.

It was a relief to see Nathalie stand up. It was Adrien's signal that his part of the meeting was finally over. He stood up as well, shook hands with the shoe execs that Gabriel was partnering with for the fall line, and practically sprinted out of the door as Nathalie passed out the contracts for the execs to sign.

He should have known better than to exit the room backwards so he could get in one last wave and thank you to their guests. In fairness, though, he didn't expect the hall to have traffic.

“Whoa!” The woman Adrien rudely collided into cried out as she flailed to try to catch her balance.

With his Chat-Noir-trained reflexes, Adrien swung his arm out to catch the woman around the waist. He gently tugged her back up onto her feet, but he didn't calculate her already throwing herself back into balance. She tilted the opposite direction, and Adrien ended up dipping her; his other hand supporting her shoulders – and her hands reflexively grabbing onto his – as her momentum finally stopped.

“Easy there!” He nervously laughed. Of course, he would collide with one of his father's employees as he tried to escape one of his father's meetings. He was sure he'd never hear the end of this.

“A-Adrien?” The woman squeaked in a panic. “I-I mean, Mr. Agreste?”

Her large eyes shined like blue zircon gemstones. Her strawberry-pink lips were partially parted in shock. Her raven hair dangled like a curtain behind her as Adrien held her in the dip. She was adorable. She also looked so familiar to him. Those eyes, in particular.

Agreste! Wake up! Realizing that his father's employee was still leaning awkwardly against his arm, Adrien cleared his throat and lifted the woman back onto her feet. He held her elbows to help steady her. Once he was confident that she wasn't going to fall, he took a step back and hoped his blush wasn't as visible as it felt as it burnt his cheeks.

“Adrien's fine. I'm not really into formalities, if I'm honest. Are you okay? Sorry about colliding into you like that.”

“N-no! That's alright. I'm fine. I should have been paying attention as well.”

Now that they weren't inches from each other, the woman started to shrink into herself. She couldn't keep eye contact with him and fidgeted. Her foot rubbed the back of the opposite leg and her arms flailed about as she talked. Seeing her so nervous definitely brought about a familiarity, and a name bobbed to the surface of Adrien's memory.

“Marinette, right? You're one of the junior designers?”

She squeaked with a start. “You-you know who I am?”

Adrien laughed. “Well, yeah. You fitted me for a few outfits for the spring line, didn't you?”

Marinette blushed. “Mm-hmm. The casual evening wear line.”

“That's the one!” Adrien snapped with acknowledgment. “Were any of those pieces yours?”

“Mine?” Marinette flailed her hands in front of her again. “No! I'm not nearly– I mean, my work isn't quite– I'm not ready for that. I-I did help with the color selection though.”

“Well, that's quite the accomplishment in and of itself. I think those were some of the most fun outfits I've worn in a while, and it was largely due to how bright the colors were. Really shook up all of those bland whites and blacks and tans menswear tends to fall into. You know?”

Marinette nodded like she was a freshly bopped bobblehead. Adrien struggled to not laugh at how adorable she was.

“Oh! I'm sorry. I'm holding you up!” Marinette's eyes again flew wide and her blush deepened. “And I need to take these– Oh no! The sketches!” Marinette stared at her hands, suddenly realizing they were empty. The sketches she was carrying before Adrien ran into her were carpeting the floor.

“Here, let me help you with that.” Adrien leaned down to help scoop up the papers, this time keeping an eye on the door to make sure they didn't end up tripping Nathalie and the execs as they left the conference room.

“No, that's alright. I have it.”

“I'm the reason they got scattered all over the floor in the first place. It's no problem. Really.”

As they scrambled to scoop up the papers – Adrien focused on the conference room door and Marinette focused on anything but Adrien – they bonked heads.

“Oof! Sorry. I seem to just keep running into you today.” Adrien sheepishly laughed.

“No-no. That was on me this time.” An awkward, lopsided smile spread across Marinette's lips as she gathered the last of the sketches.

They both stood, and Adrien held out the papers he had picked up. “We really need to find a better way to run into each other. Preferably one where we don't do so literally.”

“I love you,” she swooned. “That!” she quickly corrected. Her blush deepened. “I'd love that. The not running into you part. I mean, no! Not that part. I love running into you. Not literally though. That part. But I don't love running into you. It's not like I purposefully position myself so that I have an excuse to interact with you. That would be weird and stalker-y and I definitely don't do that. I mean why did I even put that out there? Now you think that's exactly what I do, but I swear I don't. I just–”

Adrien softened as he listened to Marinette. There was something about her rambling that was equal parts confusing and endearing. He cocked his head to the side while waiting for her to get to the point.

“You're so nice,” she continued at that same frantic pace. Her papers slid out of her arms due to the uneven pressure she was putting on them. She juggled them a bit as her mouth kept going. “You don't have to be nice. Everyone would probably expect you to not be nice. Not not-nice. I mean, indifferent? But you're not. You're super nice. I mean, you put in the effort to remember my name. Plus, you didn't need to help me with these.” She held up her uneven pile of papers. “And you're standing here listening to me going on-and-on and good grief why am I still talking? I'm holding you up and I really need to get going as well and yet I just can't seem to stop talking. I'm so embarrassing. But you're still here listening to me, because you're so sweet and I just want to spend all night talking to you. And it seems like maybe you'd be willing? So, maybe we could go and grab dinner tonight after work or something?”

Marinette stopped with a gasp as she tried to refill her empty lungs.

Adrien politely chuckled. “You good?”

Marinette's blush quickly drained as the woman went pale as a ghost. Her eyes bugged out and her mouth slacked.

“I did not just do that!”

“Hmm?” Adrien cocked his head. His mind still frantically trying to sort through the word-vomit Marinette just spat up all over him.

She started backing away from him. “Ignore everything I just said. I don't want to date you. Not that I wouldn't date you if you wanted. Actually, no! You wouldn't– I mean I wouldn't– I mean I'm so sorry. My bad. I just remembered that I already have a date with someone else tonight. A very nice date. One that I've been looking forward to. With someone not you. So clearly I'm not waiting to go on a date with you. Because I have a date with someone else. Tonight! Definitely already have a date tonight. Sorry. Gotta go!” Then she sprinted down the hall.

There was a commotion behind Adrien and the conference door opened. Adrien mindlessly stepped out of the way as the execs filed out of the room, followed by Nathalie.

“Adrien?” she asked. “What are you still doing here? Something wrong?”

Adrien didn't register Nathalie talking to him. He looked through her and down the hall where Marinette had sprinted. His mind finally sorting through what happened.

“Did she just ask me out?”

“Huh? Who? Who asked you out?” Nathalie looked over her shoulder.

“Oh! Sorry. Never mind. It's nothing.”

Nathalie frowned. “I have to escort our guests out, but we'll talk about this later. You know how your father feels about you dating.”

Adrien waved Nathalie off and walked in the direction Marinette had sprinted.

The woman was quick! Adrien couldn't have lagged that far behind, but he couldn't find her anywhere. He couldn't even determine which office she was aiming for.

He tried looking for her office. Turned out that she was still too entry-level to have her own. With some effort – it was hard trying to bluff his way around the “why do you need Marinette?” question – he managed to sort out where her work desk was. She wasn't there either.

“What's the big deal with this girl?” Plagg poked his head out from behind Adrien's blazer. “Can't you just wait until the next time you just naturally see each other?”

Adrien scanned the hall to make sure they were alone. “Plagg,” he hissed, “You know you can't come out of hiding while I'm not in my office at work! It's too easy for you to get caught.”

“Pfft. We're fine. Believe me. I take way more notice of who's around us than you seem to, Mr. Literally-runs-into-somebody-twice.”

Adrien simply shook his head at his kwami.

“But, seriously. Don't you have anything better to do than try to track her down?”

“Probably, but I don't care. I need to talk to her again.”

“Why?”

Adrien stopped.

“I... don't really know. She intrigues me, and I guess I do kind of want to take her up on that date invite. Just so I can get to learn more about her. And she seemed so nervous around me. I need to check in with her. Make sure she's okay and that the two of us are good.”

“I'm sure that's all this is.” Plagg cocked an eyebrow before zipping back into hiding.

Adrien heaved his exasperation with Plagg's interrogation before continuing down the hallway. Maybe if he grabbed a treat from the breakroom to appease his kwami Plagg wouldn't tease him further.

“Okay, I'll meet you at Bastian's tonight at eight.”

Ladybug?

Adrien nearly sprinted towards the dominant voice. When he popped his head through the breakroom door, however, he instead spotted the same loose, medium-length, raven hair that had draped down his arm nearly an hour before. After all of her stammering around him, Adrien didn't recognize Marinette's more confident tone as hers.

She had both hands firmly planted on a table, her back towards the door. A thirty-something-year-old man with wire-rimmed glasses not properly shaped for his round face, a god-awful pencil mustache, and mousy-brown hair slicked back with far too much product sat across from Marinette. The man's basic white button-down shirt wasn't even properly ironed. Adrien was clear across the room and he could still see the wrinkles lining the man's sleeves. The man's tie was also a basic black and horribly dated. Adrien wondered if he had bought it for a school dance as a teen and just never replaced it.

“My reservation is actually for 7:30.” The man shrugged. “I prefer to not eat too late into the evening. I get heartburn then.”

“Okay. Fine.” Marinette's shoulders slumped a little.

“And don't forget to dress up nice. None of–” The man gestured to Marinette's lovely pastel pink capped-sleeve blouse and flowy cement-gray knee-length skirt adorned with cherry blossoms. “–this. I want Date Night not Office Space.”

Adrien scrunched up his nose in disgust. “Well, yeah. Of course.” Marinette backed away from the table and rubbed her elbow nervously.

With a huff, Adrien stormed away from the breakroom.

Seriously? Him? What does Marinette even see in him?

“I didn't even realize Marinette had a thing for Jules.”

Adrien pivoted at the mention of Marinette. A man and woman walked out of the breakroom, gossiping with each other.

“Have they even talked to each other before today?”

“If they have, then Marinette's a miracle worker for getting a word in edge-wise against the Jabberwocky.”

“She's pretty meek. Maybe she prefers being talked at.”

“Well, here's hoping she's also a masochist, because those are the only ones who could possibly enjoy the mental agony of interacting with that guy.”

The two workers laughed as they approached Adrien.

“Oh!” The female worker jumped slightly upon noticing him. “Mr. Agreste. What a pleasure to see you. What are you doing on the third floor? Something we can assist with?”

“No. Sorry.” Adrien put on his patented Model Smile(TM) as he scratched the back of his head. “I was just getting my steps in.” He held up his wrist to show off his fancy watch. It didn't register his steps, but he hoped it looked high-tech enough that they wouldn't notice. “I should probably head back to my office, though. Carry on.”

With a wave, he made a bee-line back to his office on the twelfth floor.

“Huh. I would not have guessed that guy was Marinette's type.” Plagg floated back out from Adrien's blazer and drifted over to the mini-fridge Adrien had put into his office.

Adrien plopped into a plush club chair he kept in the corner of the room. “Me neither. What does she see in him? For someone so fashion-forward and quirky and adorable–?”

“Maybe this is a case of opposites attract?”

“He sounded so rude towards her, didn't he? And then those employees joking about his endless talking and how painful it is to just interact with him? Does Marinette see something in him that no one else does?”

“Marinette seemed to be a bit of a motor-mouth herself.”

“Yeah, but hers was different.”

“How so?”

“It just... was. Okay?”

Plagg shrugged and gobbled down a large slice of Camembert. “Ah, to be a fly on the wall during that date.” He laughed. “If that woman could handle the– what did those guys call him? Jabberwocky? I like that. If Marinette could slay the Jabberwocky I wish I could be there to see that. Oh! Or the two of them just rambling at each other; holding two different conversations? Either way, get me the popcorn.”

“I am curious. Maybe it isn't as bad as it seemed in the few seconds that I caught. Their interactions, I mean.”

“If you say so.”

“Yeah. I'm sure there's something there that we don't know. Marinette wouldn't go on a date as awful as I'm thinking.”

“How could you know that? You barely know the girl.”

“That is true.” Adrien hung his head in his hands. Why was he even so fixated on this? Plagg was right. He only really knew Marinette in passing. It was none of his business. Even if it was a bad date, so what? Everyone has had terrible dates that they've suffered through.

Ones that they wished they could pull a rip-cord on.

That maybe they didn't have an escape plan for, but wished they did.

Marinette's gemstone eyes flitted into Adrien's mind.

He whipped out his phone and looked up the number for Bastian's.

“Hello? Yes. This is Adrien Agreste. Yes, that Adrien Agreste. I was wondering if you had an opening for a solo-diner tonight? I was hoping for around 7:20? Oh, no. A VIP table isn't necessary at all. Public dining is perfect. Fantastic. See you then. Thank you.”

Adrien turned from Plagg's knowing look. “What?” he asked his kwami, “I heard that Bastian's has a delicious salmon risotto.”

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

The quality of the salmon risotto was highly exaggerated.

It wasn't bad. It was a textbook execution of the dish, worthy of high marks at any culinary school. The flavoring was just a bit bland despite the chef clearly being a bit heavy-handed with the butter.

That didn't really matter though. Adrien wasn't particularly hungry anyway.

His stomach felt heavy and the back of his brain was itchy. He had no clue what he was doing there. The whole thing was insane.

It hit him all at once the moment he caught a glimpse of Marinette's raven hair coming around the corner behind the hostess. He realized that he had no excuse to be at this mid-grade (at best) restaurant. Not the same one that she just-so-happened to have a reservation for. And not at the same time as the aforementioned reservation. Definitely not while also eating alone!

I can't let her catch me here!

Adrien quickly pivoted to a different seat at his table so his back was towards her. As discretely as possible, he slid his meal over to his new spot. He then shrugged his sweater a little higher up the back of his neck and shagged his hair slightly. Similar to how he used to wear it when he was a teen. With any luck, she wouldn't recognize him.

He felt Plagg snake his way around his back and down to Adrien's hip. Plagg then phased his head through the sweater. “Plagg!” Adrien hissed under his breath.

“Calm down,” Plagg whispered back. “No one looks at someone else's hips. I just want to see this disaster.”

“No,” Adrien intoned, trying to not move his lips too much and get caught talking to 'himself'. “We're not spying on Marinette and her date. I'm sure it will be fine.” He poked some more at his risotto and wondered how bad it would look if he just downed it as fast as possible so he could escape.

“You're no fun,” Plagg huffed, but he didn't bother to retreat into the sweater.

Despite himself, as Adrien worked his way through his dinner, he attuned his ears to Marinette's table. His hearing wasn't as keen as it would have been if he was Chat Noir, but, over the years, he had trained his senses to be a bit more sensitive than usual, even out of costume.

Training his sense of touch was probably a poor decision, though. Especially with how many hands roam his body between fittings and shoots and quick-changes....

It seemed to work in his favor that night though. The entire meal, he barely heard Marinette say five words – outside of ordering her steak with the waiter – but Adrien could not get away from her date's dreary voice. Marinette's coworkers were right, however, and the woman was always more on the meek, non-confrontational side anyway. It was possible that she was somehow enjoying the endless conversation. Except, Adrien's sort of sixth sense – due to his heightened touch sensitivity – made him acutely aware of Marinette's discomfort.

Well, it was either the sixth sense thing or Plagg's wincing at Adrien's hip.

Despite warnings about cats and curiosity, Adrien couldn't help himself. He nudged his way around the table again. Shimmying closer and closer to his original chair before smoothly shifting to it and pushing his other chair back into place. Then he slid his half-eaten bowl back in front of him. Then the glass of wine.

He refused to keep going so he was full-on facing Marinette, but he could at least keep an eye on her in his peripheral now. He didn't like what he saw.

Her back was tight and tall. Her shoulders raised towards her ears. Her upper arms were flexed as she fidgeted with something under the table. A miasma of irritation seemed to radiate from her, and Adrien wondered if she was going to literally try to slay the Jabberwocky. Did this restaurant somehow have vorpal knives?

Adrien desperately wanted to just intervene. He wasn't sure at this point if doing so would be rescuing Marinette from her date or the other way around.

“And that was how my third marriage ended,” Jules monotoned across from Marinette.

How is that guy so loud? I get the masochism comment now, Adrien thought.

As Marinette filled her side of the conversation with yet another sip of water she started to take in the restaurant around her. In a flash, Adrien was laser-focused on the last bites of his risotto.

Please, don't let her see me, he mentally chanted, subtly shifting his head so he was turned away from her. If she catches me here I'm done for!

Right. He had no plausible reason to be at the same restaurant as her at the same time as her and right after she told him she had a date tonight. He'd be outed as a stalker or something! His father would throw him into lock-down if that ever got out! And, considering how recognizable he was, there was no way the other patrons wouldn't videotape him interrupting a woman's date and probably getting called an obsessive creep by that same woman.

Marinette had walked back – well, black-hole-absorbed back – her date invite to Adrien specifically so she could still come here with Jules. She must have had a reason to prefer the Jabberwocky's company. Maybe Adrien somehow offended her when they collided earlier. Maybe she had gotten in trouble after being late with those sketches. Maybe she didn't want anything to do with Adrien Agreste anymore. Wouldn't be a good look to ride in and try to White Knight for Marinette then. He didn't want to seem possessive of her.

His risotto finally done, he gently reached out to a passing waiter and requested the check.

“This is great,” Plagg whispered from his watch party at Adrien's hip still. “She's just gazing out the window now; not even looking at the guy. And he's still talking! I think he just likes the sound of his own voice.”

“That's hard to imagine,” Adrien intoned.

He thanked the waiter for the check, and quickly handed him in his payment. After confirming that the waiter was also assisting Marinette's table, Adrien included a nearly fifty-percent tip in hopes that it would help compensate for having to deal with Marinette's date. Meal consumed and paid for, Adrien placed his napkin on the table and stood to leave.

“Aww.” Plagg snaked back around to Adrien's chest just under his cable-knit sweater. “The train wreck isn't over yet.”

“Oh, yes it is.”

“Adrien?” Plagg warned. Adrien quickly shushed him.

He walked past Marinette's table as fast as possible while still looking nonchalant. He again prayed that she wouldn't notice him there.

“So, last year I went snorkeling with...”

Adrien struggled to not roll his eyes and scream at Jules to just shut up already as he caught the man still droning on at poor Marinette.

Just look forward. Don't react. Get out of here before she notices you! he ordered himself.

Adrien got to the front of the restaurant with no incident. He heaved a relieved sigh, thanked the wait staff and the hostess, and headed out the door. Fighting against his desire to full-tilt sprint, he casually followed the sidewalk along the front of the building. As soon as he reached the small alley between the restaurant and the neighboring building, however, he dashed into its welcoming shadows.

“Adrien?” Plagg asked with a challenging tone, “What are you planning? Nothing stupid, I hope.”

“Oh. It most definitely is. Plagg-”

“Adrien! Don't! You can't use your powers for personal gain, remember?” Plagg rattled off in a panic.

“What personal gain? Chat Noir is a hero, isn't he? And I'm rescuing Marinette. It's all on the up-and-up.”

“Adrien!”

“Plagg, claws out!”

“Adrien, no!” Plagg got sucked into Adrien's ring before he could fight his holder any further. In an instant, Chat Noir stood where Adrien was a moment before.

“Now, let's go rescue a citizen.”

Chat Noir puffed out his chest and casually walked back into Bastian's. He gave the hostess a salute as he walked past her. “Not dining today,” he called over his shoulder, “Just need to do a quick pop-in. Don't mind me.”

As he passed by the tables within the dining room the patrons all started to mutter among themselves about him.

“No need to panic,” he reassured them. “Paris is safe. Go back to your meals.”

It was too late. The restaurant was already abuzz and everyone was too focused on him to even think about their food anymore.

The only one unfazed by Chat Noir's presence was none other than Marinette's lout of a date.

Marinette, on the other hand, stared up at Chat Noir with those shining blue zircon eyes that had captured him earlier that day.

“Hello, Miss,” Chat Noir greeted. He rested one hand on the back of Marinette's chair, and the other he balled up before resting it on his hip. It took imagining Ladybug's disappointed scowl to keep him from using his balled fist to punch out Marinette's date.

“Buh-blah-uh?” Marinette blabbered in shock.

Chat Noir struggled to not smirk at how cute even Marinette blue-screening was. “Pardon my rudeness, but could I borrow you for a moment? Won't take but a sec.” He then winked at her to let her know that he understood her situation; he was there as her out.

Clearly still blue-screened, Marinette slowly pivoted her head back towards her date. Jules did not look impressed that a superhero was currently standing at their table.

“Excuse me,” Jules grunted, “but you're interrupting our date.”

Marinette slowly pivoted her head back towards Chat Noir, awaiting his response.

Chat Noir turned to regard the boorish man. It was so ironic to Chat Noir that this other man was complaining about interrupting dates. Him! He was the one who was interrupting so many dates within that restaurant with his loud droning. Let alone his prevention of Adrien's date with Marinette that night. Besides, how did he not notice that Marinette was desperate for someone to interrupt the date?

Taking a long, soothing breath, Chat Noir stood straight, his hand no longer resting on Marinette's chair. Once again breaking out his Model Smile(TM), Chat Noir relaxed his body in an attempt to disarm.

“Oh, right,” he said with a thick layer of honey in his voice. “Sorry about that. Interrupting a date is so annoying. I totally get that.”

Like a skilled magician, Chat Noir distracted from his hands with his winning smile. Meanwhile, his left hand scooped up Marinette's right.

“Let me just get out of your way,” Chat Noir finished with a coo. In a flash, he tugged on Marinette's hand, spinning her out of her chair and into his arms. After catching her in his arms earlier, it was a welcome return to feel her weight against him again.

Marinette was still stun-locked. Her only acknowledgment of what just happened was the rosy coloring flooding her cheeks.

Shifting his arm so it was draped around Marinette's shoulder, he confirmed that she had her purse on her. Chat Noir then gave Marinette's former date a two-finger salute before escorting Marinette out of the restaurant. Once they were outside, he detached his stick from his back. In one, smooth, solid motion, he scooped Marinette up into a bridal carry while extending his stick to vault up onto the nearest roof.

Upon landing, he shifted her slightly so he could reattach his weapon to his back before again lifting her into a bridal carry. A moment later, they were off. He wasn't sure where he was going. He just let his feet lead him. All he knew was that he couldn't be anywhere near that restaurant or that oaf of a date.

With the same ease as a leisurely jog around a track, Chat Noir ran across the rooftops of Paris with Marinette in his arms. He leapt across the gaps between buildings as if he was hopping over puddles to avoid getting his shoes wet. He felt so free and the weight of Marinette in his arms renewed his energy.

As they neared the Seine, Chat Noir stopped within a rooftop garden. It was a gorgeous view, between the flowers, the lights reflecting off the river, and a cozy-looking garden bench tucked within the flora.

Chat Noir gently rested Marinette back on her feet, holding her hands to support her while she regained her bearings.

“You okay, Miss?”

“Uh...” She blinked at him. Her face shifted between confusion, relief, shock, and frustration as if those emotions were on shuffle play. She finally settled on stupefied. “I'm sorry. What just happened?”

She was too cute. Chat Noir couldn't help himself. He chuckled. “I think I just rescued you from the world's worst date.”

Marinette cringed and moaned in embarrassment. “Believe it or not, I've had worse.”

She circled around Chat Noir, studying him. It unnerved him slightly, but he tried to not let it show. He reminded himself that there was no way that she'd know that he was Adrien Agreste.

“But why me?” she asked. “You don't even know me.”

Chat Noir pursed his lips. He was not expecting that question. Why wasn't he expecting that question?

“Let's just say–” his mind raced for a suitable answer. He rocked back and forth on his heels. “–I know a guy who asked me for a favor.”

Ha! Perfect! Vague but plausible.

Marinette's face fell and her shoulders slacked. “Oh, my gosh,” she whispered, more to herself than to Chat Noir. “You know Adrien Agreste.” Her eyes darted up to meet Chat Noir's. “He contacted you somehow, didn't he?”

Shit!

Marinette must have spotted Adrien in the restaurant after all. He was never going to live this down! With any luck – of which he was sure he had virtually none – his mask would at least hide the blush burning his cheeks. He broke eye contact with Marinette and scratched the back of his neck nervously. “What makes you think that?”

With a groan, Marinette fell onto the bench nestled between the flower boxes. She buried her face in her hands, muttering “no, no, no, no” into her palms. She then let out another whimpering groan.

“Hey. Are... you okay?” Chat Noir sat beside her. With a moment of hesitation, nervous that he was the source of her woes, he tentatively placed a supportive hand on her shoulder.

“I can't believe Adrien saw me on that awful date.”

Oh, good. He was the source of her woes. Excellent.

Chat Noir choked down his own whimpering groan.

“I'm so embarrassed,” Marinette continued.

Chat Noir tilted his head in confusion. Why was Marinette embarrassed? She caught her boss's son basically stalking her. He'd understand her being angry or feeling violated, but embarrassed?

“I feel like I'm missing something. So, what's the story?”

“It's a long one,” Marinette grumbled. She dropped her hands to her lap and rested her head against the back of the bench, gazing up at the starless sky.

Chat Noir smirked. He'd love a long story from Marinette.

“I'm all ears.” He willed the false cat ears atop his head to twitch and wiggle.

Marinette laughed. It was the loveliest sound Chat Noir could recall hearing. He melted a little as he settled in next to her, readying himself for Story Time.

She took a deep breath to steel herself and heaved out a heavy sigh. “There's this guy at work – tall, blond, sweet, and so handsome I melt into the floor every time I see him.”

Chat Noir hoped Marinette didn't hear him gulp his heart back into his chest.

“He even smells amazing,” she whined with yearning.

Chat Noir fought the urge to sniff himself that very instant, and the follow-up urge to wiggle closer to Marinette so she could perchance catch a whiff. Which one of them was downwind? Why wasn't there any wind right now?

Clearing his throat slightly, Chat Noir teased, “Okay, so you know Adrien from work.” He gestured as if offering the right of way to Marinette. “Go on.”

Marinette glared up at him with a little pout. It was adorable, but still sent a chill down Chat Noir's spine. It felt familiar somehow. As if he'd faced That Look at least a dozen times before.

“I never said it was Adrien.”

Oh. This is going to be fun, Chat Noir thought as he fought the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

He dramatically crossed one leg over the other, then rested his chin in his hand. His other hand casually draped across his thigh. With a wisp in his voice, Chat Noir asked, “Oh? So, who is mister tall, fair, and handsome?”

Marinette flushed with embarrassment. She whipped away from Chat Noir's playful gaze, instead focusing on her thumbnails as she picked at them. “It doesn't matter!”

“Mm-hmm,” Chat Noir challenged.

Marinette shifted in her seat, rolling her shoulders before again gazing up at the sky. “Anyway, this guy from work, I've...” She cautiously glanced back over at Chat Noir as she bit down on her thumbnail.

He straightened, relaxing both hands to seem more sincere. The shift in posture appeared to have put Marinette more at ease. She stopped biting on her nail, lowering her hand back to her lap.

“I've had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on him for the longest time.” She slammed the back of her head against the back of the bench. She screwed her eyes shut and whimpered a little before continuing. “I ran into him in the hall earlier today–”

Literally, and the other way around, Chat Noir thought with an embarrassed chuckle.

“–and in a fit of complete insanity I asked him out.”

A warm wave washed over Chat Noir. The confirmation that she had meant to extend the invitation made his heart skip in a way he wasn't expecting.

“Doesn't sound so bad.” Chat Noir hoped his glee didn't spill over into his voice. He had to remain neutral and detached from the situation. Neutral and Detached. Neutral. And. Detached.

“But then I realized what I had done,” she continued, “I got all flustered and started babbling, said, 'Sorry, my bad. I just remembered that I have a date with someone else tonight,' and ran away.” She glanced back over at Chat Noir and gestured as if to say, “ta-da! I'm an idiot!”

Chat Noir bit the inside of his mouth to stop himself from laughing. It really was a ridiculous situation, now that Marinette laid it out so plainly. How could she be so cute and yet so insecure?

“And why did you do that?”

“Because,” she whined, “he's Adrien Agreste!” She threw her hands out, gesturing to the sky in desperation. “Not only is he France's top model and so far out of my league that I can't even see his league without a telescope, but also–” She violently shook her hands out in front of her, as if she were mentally shaking sense into herself. “He's my boss's son! I can't even begin to fathom how inappropriate asking him out like that was.” She screamed out her embarrassment before hiding behind her hands again. “I panicked and ran,” she finished softly.

Chat Noir wanted to pull her in for a hug so bad. The poor thing! He was right. She had meant to ask him out, and just revoked the offer because she got nervous.

How on Earth did that Jules guy get involved then?

“So,” Chat Noir drew out the word as he tried to sort out a non-judgmental way to ask, “after asking out the guy you wanted to go out with, how did you end up on a date with that other guy?”

“Ugh, it's so embarrassing.” Her chest heaved in mock sobs. “I was still panicking and wasn't thinking straight, and I heard that guy – I think he's from accounting or something – say that his date for tonight had fallen through.”

Gee, I wonder why.... Chat Noir mentally rolled his eyes.

“I didn't want Adrien to think that I had lied to him about having a date already–”

“Which you had,” Chat Noir teasingly pointed out.

“–so I asked him out. Right there in the breakroom. In front of all of my coworkers!”

Chat Noir pursed his lips as he choked down a laugh. When that wasn't enough he clapped a hand over his mouth to try to better hide his amusement. Now was not the time to laugh about how unhinged the whole situation was. That would be the last thing Marinette would need when she was already having a rough time with it.

Marinette again cradled her head in her hands. “You can go ahead and laugh. I deserve it. I'm such a loser.”

Okay. Definitely not the time to laugh.

“Nah, you're not a loser.” He gently elbowed her to try to catch her attention. “Delightfully awkward, but not a loser.”

“I'm going to have to quit my job and move to America, and start designing ready-to-wear for a department store,” she moaned into her hands.

Chat Noir knew that very sentiment painfully well. “A valid career path, but why are you moving an ocean away?”

Marinette sunk further onto the bench, bending nearly in half as she hid within her hands. “I'll never be able to show my face at Gabriel or any other fashion house in Paris again.”

“I don't think it's as bad as all that. Sure, you had one embarrassing day at work, but who hasn't?”

Marinette scoffed.

“Even Adrien has embarrassed himself in public,” Chat Noir ventured.

Marinette stilled for a heartbeat. Slowly, she sat up a little straighter and peeked out from behind her hands. “Really? But he's so perfect.”

“Pfft. Hardly!” Chat Noir dismissively waved off the very idea. He then draped an arm along the back of the bench and recrossed his legs.

Marinette studied him. Those zircon eyes flickered between pleading to be reassured and questioning if Chat Noir was simply jealous of Adrien.

The woman had been through the wringer that day, and had already suffered enough simply by going on a date with the Jabberwocky. Chat Noir wasn't sure why, but he trusted that Marinette would never weaponize someone else's embarrassment. It was time to break out the big guns.

Chat Noir nonchalantly shrugged. “His first modeling job after lycée, he had a horrible cold. Someone offered him one of those vitamin-C tablets that you're supposed to dissolve in a cup of hot water before drinking. Oblivious kid that he was, he put the tablet in his mouth and drank a cup of warm water.”

He shuddered remembering the next part. The vile taste returned to his mouth through recollection alone.

Marinette's eyes widened. Her mouth formed into an astonished 'o' and she slowly covered her silent gasp with her hand. She was getting ahead of his story.

Chat Noir nodded that she was on the right track. “The tablet started dissolving in his mouth and foaming over everything. It got all over his clothes; the furniture; the floor. It was like he had rabies! Everyone started laughing and calling him 'Atomic Blond'. He was so embarrassed that he vowed to move to New Zealand and become a sheep herder.”

“Oh, no!” Marinette laughed; breathy, secondhand-embarrassed, sympathetic laughs. Chat Noir could practically hear her thinking 'poor thing'. “How have I not heard that story before?”

Chat Noir shrugged. “His dad worked his PR magic and covered it up.”

More like Nathalie worked her magic, but to-may-to to-mah-to.

Marinette arched an eyebrow. “How do you know about it?”

“Sorry. That's a trade secret.” He pressed a finger to his lips and winked.

Marinette sighed. Getting off the bench, she gently stroked the flower petals as she passed by them. She wove her way through the lush garden and wandered over to the railing lining the roof. With a deep breath, she took in their gorgeous city. Her shoulders were relaxed. Her one foot was hooked around her other ankle, but she wasn't fidgety. She was the most calm and at peace that Chat Noir remembered ever seeing her.

“Thank you, Chat Noir.” She turned back towards him and tucked some stray hairs behind her ear. “I'm glad I won't have to move to another continent.”

Chat Noir joined her by the railing. “Decided to stay?”

Marinette puffed out her chest and stood tall. “If Adrien can still show his face at work after a day like that, then so can I.” A breath later, she puckered her lips and her bravado washed away. “I'll just make sure to stay in the basement where he'll never see me again.”

Chat Noir knew he definitely couldn't allow that to happen.

[break]

Their evening was over too soon. It wasn't the date Adrien pictured for the 2.5 seconds he had to process before Marinette had revoked her offer, but it was still a mostly-lovely evening with the intriguing woman. As Adrien got ready for bed, he already knew it was going to be a struggle to get his mind to stop thinking about Marinette long enough to fall asleep.

That was, at least, until he caught the evening news. Amateur photos and videos of Chat Noir in Bastian's confronting a patron and spiriting a citizen away flooded his TV.

“Oh, no!”

“And this is why we don't use our powers for personal gain,” Plagg said as he floated by, not prepared to give more of a lecture than that single sentence.

Adrien faceplanted into his pillows and screamed. “Ladybug is going to kill me!”

“There's always sheep herding in New Zealand.”

“Not. Helpful. Plagg.”

“Didn't realize you were expecting helpful,” Plagg teased.

Somehow, Plagg's snarkiness did help. Adrien chuckled.

“Do you think I at least helped Marinette tonight, Plagg?”

“Maybe.”

“Is it weird that I almost wish I had told her the vitamin-C story as Adrien? Have a real bonding moment between us? Maybe she'd be less nervous around me then.”

“I find it hard to believe that she could ever to be nervous around you now anyway, Mr. Atomic Blond.”

“You know, I don't think I'd mind if she called me that.” He chuckled at the thought.

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

The tick of the wall clock tormented Adrien as he sat through a seemingly endless morning meeting. He had always hated these meetings, but it was extra agonizing that morning. Marinette was in that very building at that very moment. But she wasn't in that room.

Adrien rapidly tapped his foot while he focused the rest of his energy on keeping the remainder of his body painfully still. He had no recollection of any words that were said for the past twenty minutes. He couldn't describe a single slide shown explaining the company's growth.

He needed out of this conference room. He was going feral.

Finally, the meeting broke, and Adrien was free.

He didn't bother with the elevator. He couldn't be trapped somewhere again. Besides, he could move faster on the stairs. Especially when he only took every third step and swung himself around each landing (saving him another 5 steps or so per floor).

He bee-lined it to Marinette's work desk. Just like the day before, she wasn't there. Adrien began wondering if he even had the right desk.

“I'll just make sure to stay in the basement where he'll never see me again.”

Adrien knew where to find Marinette!

He didn't care who caught him this time, he sprinted down the four flights of stairs to the basement. As he exited onto the floor he took a moment to even his quickened breaths. He wasn't sure if they were from the sprint or the anticipation of seeing Marinette again. Either way, he couldn't see Marinette while panting. Like that was the right impression to give!

His breaths once again steady, he checked that his clothes were neat and straight, and his hair was in place.

Perfect.

Now to just oh-so-casually bump (not literally) into Marinette.

The first few rooms he checked were empty. He wondered if maybe Marinette wasn't hiding. Did she take a personal day? She didn't actually move to America, right?

Then he heard muttering within the sample fabrics. His heart fluttered. He had found her.

Her back was again towards the door when he poked his head in. She had an armful of fabrics, and was holding up a sea foam swatch against a pastel teal one, trying to decide which shade to go with.

Adrien leaned casually on the door jamb, hands in his pockets and his ankles crossed.

“Hi. Marinette, right?”

“Gah!” Marinette jumped as she spun around, dropping her fabrics as she pressed herself against the rack of silks behind her.

That didn't go as smoothly as he had planned.

Adrien pulled his hands out of his pockets and held them up non-threateningly. “Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you.”

“Didn't you. I mean-I didn't. I mean-you didn't!” She pinched her eyes shut and took a deep breath.

Why was she so cute?

“Oh. That's good.” Why was he dragging out each word?

Come on, Agreste! he berated himself, You know she likes you! Why is this so hard?

It was probably because Adrien had never asked anyone out before. It had always been the other way around. Girls fawning for him. His father dictating who he should date to better improve the brand. That sort of thing.

“Listen, I wanted to ask you–” He nervously rubbed the back of his neck. What if Marinette just bolted again and YOLO-asked yet another coworker out simply to avoid Adrien? He needed to take his shot though. He could do this! “Would you like to have lunch with me?”

Please say 'yes'. Please say 'yes.' Please say 'yes'.

Adrien wasn't sure he'd seen Marinette's eyes grow so large before.

“Uh– Bah– Bluh–?”

Adrien smiled. Throwback to when Chat Noir interrupted Marinette's atrocious date. The two of them seemed to have had a lovely evening after she did that stammering. Maybe this was a good-luck omen or something.

“Is that a yes?” he teased.

Marinette snapped her mouth shut and nodded.

Adrien chuckled. “Great! I know this wonderful little café by the river. What time do you get off for lunch?”

“Tw-tw-tw-tw–” Marinette pinched herself. “Twelve-thirty,” she gasped out.

Adrien checked his watch. It was half-past-eleven. He didn't have to wait too much longer. “Perfect. I'll come back for you in an hour.”

Glancing at the floor, he noticed that he again forced Marinette to drop what she was holding. He quickly scooped up the fabrics and passed them over to her. “See you later, Marinette.”

“Mm-hmm,” she intoned as she nodded. She held out her arms to accept the fabrics Adrien had gathered.

Pivoting on his heels, he gave her a quick wave over his shoulder and strode back out of the room, fighting the impulse to skip away.

He climbed every single stair leading up to his twelfth-floor office. He needed to get out the giddy energy, as well as find a way to kill the next sixty minutes. Even with Adrien pausing every couple of floors to do a mini tap-dance routine in the stairwell, he still only killed about eleven minutes.

The next forty-nine minutes were filled with endless twirls in his desk chair, memorizing the café's menu, non-stop ribbing from Plagg, and probably far more cartwheels than a twenty-something-year-old man should be doing in a business suit and within the confines of a corner office.

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