#but i am tired of being a replacement friend/lover :)

[knavesflames]

Hi! Remember this?

I decided to finally make a part two. Unfortunately, no, there isn’t a happy ending. I tried and tried but couldn’t find anything that would let them be happy. The quality of this is also not as good as the first one, I fear. Alas, it is here. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1147

Contents: bro just sadness

utc!

Arlecchino doesn’t come home for hours. The night ticks on and for the first hour, you just sit there in tears, your outfit not at all matching, though that seems to be the least of your problems. By the second hour, your eyes and throat burn, and you feel like it’s almost impossible to stop crying, and you wonder if you ever will. You drag yourself out of the bed, the bed you’ve made love on so many times, the bed she has laid you on as she coaxed our every single orgasm you’ve ever had. The tangled bedsheets and what’s remaining of her imprint from her body is a cruel, painful reminder. A reminder that you are not the one she’s been in love with this entire time, that you were just a replacement.

You wander the halls of your home, a gigantic, lavish home. Much larger than it needs to be, really, but Arlecchino always loved to show off her wealth. You don’t look towards the walls, you know that you’ll only see many, many photos of you and Arlecchino. Ones you that you hung there, and you remember the grin on your face when they were in place. You remember how your smile faded slightly when Arlecchino replied with a simple “that’s nice, dear.” You assumed she was only tired. Every single thing you remember but ignored comes crashing onto you, and all you can do is stare at the floor like some pathetic dog being scolded for doing something they shouldn’t have. You feel pathetic, or worthless, or angry. You can’t really tell which when they all blend together. You pad around the hallways aimlessly, a hollow, miserable look in your eyes.

You find yourself in the bathroom, and one look at yourself breaks the dam and your eyes fill with tears again. You can only see her, yet you look nothing like her. Therein lies the problem, you realise. Your hair is not red, nor do you have her white headband. You stare at yourself, muttering hateful words until yourself is not yourself. Your reflection is just a blur and you can’t tell what you look like. Your fist clenches, and you understand you have to leave the bathroom before the mirror shatters over the floor. Sombrely heading towards the living room, you’re met with pure rage at the sight of the lumidouce bells. A scoff is heard from you as you notice the picture of you three right next to them. Yet again, it went unnoticed, or perhaps, ignored. In a fit of impulsivity, the photo frame crashes to the floor with a guttural scream of “I hate you!” And of course, the vase topples to the floor too. You give no fucks as to the fact it’s four in the morning, or that the neighbours will probably complain. Let them complain, you think.

Arlecchino finally comes through the door at 9am. Your face is so swollen and puffy she wonders if you’re even the same person. You hear rustling and look towards her. There, in her hands, lies a bouquet of lakelight lilies, and yet it stings more than ever before, being the second choice. But doesn’t it fit so well? Perhaps too well. You quickly look away to avoid the sixth batch of tears.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?”

A bitter laugh leaves your throat before you can even stop yourself, your gaze refusing to even glance in her direction, your voice practically a sneer.

“What, did they run out of my favourite?”

“Stop that. Please. You know I love you.”

How are you so angry, so hurt, yet your heart still beats for her? Her lips come to your forehead in a kiss, and there’s a whimper before you burst into quiet sobs again.

“You admitted you don’t. What am I to you? A friend, a lover, the way I thought we were? Or some sort of sick rebound?”

Arlecchino has a tendency to stay silent when someone is correct and she does not want to admit it. Maybe because she won’t can’t admit it to herself, maybe because she can’t see you cry anymore.

“You are a cruel woman, Peruere. You use me all these years, you pretend I am someone I am not, you ruin me, and yet I find myself choosing to wait for you to want me like a dog with a bird at the door. A stray dog chasing after any sort of attention you will give me, don’t you realise, you stupid woman? I whine for you and your affection and you choose to muzzle me and leave me at the side of the road to favour someone who died so long ago. Is that what I am to you? A mutt, waiting and ready for you to kick when you’re down?”

Your outburst is unexpected, the usually stoic and unfearing woman flinching at the sheer desperation in your words. Her lips begin to form your name, but you snarl, cutting her off.

“Call me for who you think I am. Strays and mutts cycle through names anyway, so why does it matter? Say it.”

When she doesn’t respond, your anger explodes, and you push the lilies out of her hand, trampling on them and shoving her over and over again as you demand that she calls you the name you know she’s been secretly calling you. If anyone were to push and shove her the way you’re doing, they’d be ash, a new spirit to haunt her in her dreams. Yet, she withstands it with a blank face, her eyes swirling with regret and sadness.

“Shall I bark for you, Peruere? Get on my knees and beg for you to pay attention to me? Would that make you feel better? Or shall I dye my hair red and buy a white headband, and wear that damned necklace I know you keep?”

Eventually her eyes close, and she mutters a word so quiet you almost can’t hear it over the sound of your rushing heart and your ragged breathing. Your eyes burn again, but you only wish you could burn her in her own flames until she herself becomes a spirit.

“Clervie.”

That seems to do it for you, barking out a harsh laugh that’s anything but happy. You move towards the door, sliding whatever shoes you can find on.

“Oh, my poor, mad, cursed knave. You live up to who people think you are, after all. When you’re dying in the war that will occur when your precious god gets what she wants, I hope you scream for me. I hope I’m there to watch.”

With your final words, you slam the door so hard it almost comes off of its hinges, leaving a stunned, hurt Arlecchino Peruere to clean up the mess of what she had caused, both physically and mentally, though she wonders if she ever could.

[samonroegf]

getting high with sam for the first time

f!reader. suggestive moments but no smut, fluff if you squint, angstish, childhood best friends to strangers to lovers? idk i just love him. veronica ( a character i made up) is used to replace alyssa bc she's a weirdo lol. lotta emotions, pals. 3.8k ᝰ masterlist

you'd known you wanted to try weed for a while now, it was just a bit intimidating. there's also the fact that you're 18 and you still haven't tried it, some might call you a pussy, but you just like to be precautionary.

there was the anti-drug commericals and your father breathing down your neck about being a functioning member of society. the pressure has become too much. you can't help but remember some of the stoner movies you've seen and they seemed so carefree.

so you started to concote the perfect plan, you'd never gotten in trouble, never even tardy for school. when your parents monthly business trip comes up, you knew exactly what you had to do.

invite sam monroe over for the first time in four years, and ask him to teach you how to get high.

so you think about your childhood best friend turned stranger, sam monroe. he wasn't the nicest, especially after his parents’ divorce. but there was also the fact that he had a soft spot just for you. and supposedly everyone knew, you hadn't witnessed this soft spot in a long time, so you hoped it made him a little nicer. you can't even recall why, maybe a kid crush or something. maybe you never knew at all.

you cleaned your room, made it all nice and hid some of your stuffed animals. if you were to invite sam over, you couldn't look like even more innocent than you already did.

on that fateful friday afternoon, you kissed your parents and bid them farewell. the pair completely oblivious to what their perfect little girl would be up to. a somewhat devious smile played on your lips.

you had harboured some kind of school girl crush on sam, since the two of you grew distant. he was mysterious and quiet now, you wish you knew him. wish you never would have let him slip out of your hands.

maybe that can change, maybe you can sew up the tattered thread of a connection. you wanted to laugh at yourself, you're so worked up about sam fucking monroe. the boy that you used to play in the mud with, but then again you're not just little kids anymore. things were definitely complicated. maybe more than you realized.

you couldn't help but start to pace around your room a bit, what if he said no? what if he just refused to come over? maybe you should cook something enticing, give him a extra reason? you had the weed and rolling papers already, courtesy of josh. you hated talking to him, but he had what you needed.

you walked over to the home phone hanging on the wall, and then to the clock on the stove. 6:30 p.m. the green digits stared back at you. this was a once in a lifetime chance so you swallowed your anxiety and picked up the receiver.

you dialed sam’s mom’s number, having it memorized like it was your own mother's. there was always some part of sam in your head, always stuck with you like a lover slain.

you waited patiently for someone to answer the phone, your heart beating louder than your ears could stand. you were sure this was the dumbest you'd ever felt.

“hello, kimball residence, who am i speaking with?” robin kimball, sam's mother, sounded tired. the kind of exhaustion you onlly get when you hate your life.

“hi robin! it's y/n! i was wondering if you could, uh, get sam for me?” your voice was shaky, but you hoped that she wouldn't pay it too much mind. or that she didn't notice it all.

“oh y/n! it's so nice to speak with you, how have you been?” her voice perked up once she realized who you were. always having been like a second mom to you, during your friendship with sam, guess the whole family has a soft spot for you.

“oh, I'm okay! i was just thinking of sam, and wanted him to come hang out, maybe have a sleepover like we used to!” you tried not to sound so childish, but perhaps it was working in your favor. excitement bleed into your tone, maybe hope too.

robin sighed a little, a mix of sadness and apprehension, “i can try to get him on the phone, but I can't make any promises.”

that confused you. but considering how sam acted at school, you couldn't imagine he was any easier at home.

“what do you want?” his voice felt like venom and ice, but you tried to ignore it.

“i, uh, i have some, uh, i have some w-” your stuttering didn't get you very far, sam was a very impatient boy.

“would you just spit it out,” he sounded less mad, and more just irritated. you imagined he probably dragged a hand down his face.

“sorry, I'm sorry. i just have some weed and wanted u to come over. you don't have to, I don't wanna bother you. bye, sam.” you rambled this out as fast as you possibly could and hung up just as quick.

your nerves and his mean tone became just a little too much, you'd never heard him talk to you like that. you didn't know him anymore. that hurt your heart, much more than you would like to admit. it was a fact, had been for quite some time but something about witnessing it with your own ears. it was real now.

sam stomped up the stairs to his room, closing and locking the door with a slam. he ran his hands through his hair, tugging on the black and blue strands.

“who the fuck does she think she is?” his voice was mingled with various emotions, he couldn't figure them out nor did he really want to.

“doesn't talk to me for four fucking years and then one day just calls me up and asks to hangout?” he's trying to keep his voice to a low mumble. as to not bother his younger siblings, even if he couldn't really stand them.

“tells my mom she wants a sleepover?” he almost wanted to go over there just to give her a piece of his mind. he kicked a box on the floor, and it shot across the room against a wall. he heard peter stomping down the hallway to yell at him, and slipped out of his window. a common practice these days.

he was dressed in cargo pants, his boots and a sweatshirt with the rolling stones logo printed in black and white. he was cursing under his breath, as he made the walk.

he couldn't believe her audacity, but then why would she call him unless he was the only one she could call. that had to be bullshit, she had plenty of friends. ten times more than what sam had.

he kicked a rock and lit a cigarette as he continued down the street, he hated that he could still remember the fastest way to her house. her perfect little house, with a perfect little family.

it was only just then that her words settled, like rain through a fog. i just have some weed and wanted u to come over. you don't have to. why would she have weed, unless her perfect little life wasn't so. course, could have been a lie to get him here. could be a prank, but she was never one to be nasty like that. or at least he hoped she wouldn't steep so low.

he had about a million questions that are going through his head, but the one that stuck out the most, why me? why would she call me out of everyone? it's not like sam was the only stoner in their school, but she still wanted him to come over. it made him puff on the cigarette a little faster.

sam stopped in the middle of the street for a moment, staring at the moon and sun that were now able to be seen at the same time. there was some poetry in this but he didn't want to fucking hear it.

he tried to shake his head of all these thoughts as he walked up the stairs to her front door. at the very bottom, you can still see paint marks of her and his handprints from when they moved in. sam was the first friend she made, he remembers her telling him, they'd be friends forever. feels like a cruel joke now.

you sat on your bed looking anxiously at the baggie that stood out on your bedside table. the nightstand a white wood with a pink lamp, and covered in literature. the weed looked weird and out of place next to them.

the slam of the front door and stomps crawling up the stairs brought you out of thoughts, sam standing in your doorway. he leaned against the wood, just looking at you. he looked pissed, but you were unsure if that was just his neutral expression at this point.

“you called.” he barely uttered two words to you, but you couldn't help the growing smile that stretched your lips.

“i wasn't sure if you'd actually show up!” you wished you didn't sound so happy, it was weakness he was bound to attack. you hoped your best friend, sammy was still in there, somewhere.

“what can i say? free weed, can't let that kind of offer go.” he chuckled as he spoke, and it was almost like you knew him again. but you didn't, he was a stranger in your bedroom, while your parents were hours away at this point.

he almost wanted to break something, he had so many questions, so much to say but now that he was in front of her, he wanted nothing more than to push it all aside. this wasn't like this normally, usually anger was so easy to hold onto. this time, it was like he never had any to begin with.

he slowly wandered into the room, looking over everything you had displayed. you prayed he didn't open the closet and get assualted by plushies. the thought almost made you want to giggle.

he was stuck, stuck holding a picture in his hand. he hadn't seen the polaroid in four years. a cheesing sam stared back at him, so free and fun. your arms were tight around him, couldn't be older than six and you were smiling just as big.

as you came to stand next to him, you looked at the picture in his hand. you were being torn between crying and laughing. it's such a cute picture, one that you thought you'd show your kids one day. but those thoughts were one of a silly little girl who believed that sam would always be by your side. you felt stupid, mad and sad all at once.

“i remember this day,” sam's voice sounds faraway, like he is scared to talk at all. like the picture and you would disappear, and he'd wake up from another dream.

“it was the day our dad's built your pool, and we played all day long.” he finished, looking from the photo to you. it was the first time he's really looked at you. his blue eyes peering into yours, you felt naked under his stare.

“yeah, and we had ice cream and it got everywhere,” you chuckled sadly, this felt like a reunion with a lover rather than a friend. you looked away back to the picture in his hand, taking it you put it back on your mirror. as he watched your hands, he noticed it wasn't the only picture of the two of you. you kept every single one, always one to cherish every memory, even if it hurts more than it helps.

“why do you still have them?” his voice is barely above a whisper like he's scared to hear the answer.

“i always hoped you'd come back, that we'd go back to old times. feels kinda stupid to say out loud” you laughed, bringing your arms around yourself trying to bring yourself some comfort.

you're looking at all the pictures, too scared to see what expression is resting on sam's face now.

“well, I'm here, aren't I?” you finally turned to look at him, your eyebrows creased in worry or concern. you weren't sure. his hand comes to rest on your shoulder, it's awkward and comforting all the same.

“would you have ever came if I didn't call? if i didn't have weed?” your voice might break if it shakes anymore, your tongue sucks over your teeth in anxiety.

“wait, don't answer that. i don't want the answer. i don't think you miss me the way i miss you.” you interrupted him. the second half of your words came out mumbled as you walk away from him and sit on the bed. a tear slid down your face, and it makes a bitter laugh come out of you. you've never wanted someone so close and so fucking faraway from you. you wioed it away and hoped he didn't see it. weakness was not an option.

“you don't get to do this,” his voice is quiet, but you were sure that it wouldn't stay that way.

“you don't get to cry and put words in my mouth, you have no fucking idea how i feel.” he raised his voice a bit and you just rolled your eyes at him. he came to sit opposite to you on the bed.

“yeah, you're right. but you also never fucking talked to me. you were my best friend one day and then avoiding me the next. how the fuck do you think that's gonna make me feel? hell, how the fuck can you just do that to someone.” you were yelling too now, staring at him with so much anger. you weren't even really that mad, you were just hurt.

“that is not what fucking happened. you became friends with josh, that's what happened,” his eyes narrowed at you and you wanted, well you don't know what you want but this is definitely something that needed to happen. josh had been a bully in middle school, i guess much hasn't changed.

“excuse the fuck out of me? i did no such thing, i was friends with veronica. i was friends with her, and then you left. and i know, yes, i know that you fucked vee. you left me, and that wasn't enough.” you were seething at this point, barely able to remember why you even missed him in the first place. you got off the bed, not even being able to look at him.

“i did not fuck veronica. who told you that? let me guess, veronica?” your head whipped in his direction, you stopped in your tracks.

your cheeks warmed as you realized you may have been fed incorrect information, “you didn't? but she and josh both told me on seperate instances.” you felt stupid, you came to sit on the bed again. a sheepish look on your face.

“no, i didn't fuck veronica. are you stupid?” the anger in the room begin to fizzle out, and you smacked his shoulder, “don't say that, I'm not stupid.” you gave him a fake angry look and looked at your feet.

you'd been lied to for four years, four years where sam didn't have be alienated. four years where your best friend could be beside you.

“why’d you stop coming around, then? if it wasn't cause of that? ” the fear of rejection injected to your veins. your lip was tightly pulled between your teeth, an anxious habit. your eyes looked from him to your hands as you waited for him to answer.

“somebody told me you hated me and didn't want me around anymore.” his voice was distant like he couldn't believe his own words. “told me you were just friends with me out of pity.”

“now you're the stupid one.” you laughed dryly, trying to make light of the situation. you bumped your shoulder into his.

“hell, i might be. i doubt if you hated me you'd keep all those cheesy momentos.” he chuckled and you could have savored the feeling that went through your chest. he might be better than any high that weed could give you. if you didn't have a bit of love for him before, you definitely do now.

you felt like a tornado of emotions, you didn't know what was to happen now.

some time passed in silence, you both unsure of what was to happen next. years of pushed down feelings that no longer have a sense of direction.

anxiety creeped up your back, looking at sam he's just looking at you. a slight smile on his lips, it's a sight you could get used to.

“what?” you laughed a bit out of embarrassment.

“you’re just pretty.” his voice was soft and you kinda wanted to throw up. how could all this happen and he can just have the audacity to compliment you. you dropped eye contact but a similar smile could now been seen on your face.

“so, we're good now?” you spoke, eyes glued to the floor. you didn't think you could keep from kissing him, if he kept looking at you like that.

“we’re so good. you ready to smoke?” sam smiled some, and layed back on the bed. his arms falling above his head, he stared at the ceiling. life is just some game, and he's pretty sure he just won big. he felt somewhere between being on cloud nine and being the dumbest motherfucker he's ever met. he can't believe he believed josh about some stupid rumor, instead of just coming to you.

“so, actually the thing about that, i don't know how. i called you so you could teach me because i trust you.” warmth gathered on your cheeks again.

he leans up on one arm to look at you, and he smiles real big, teeth and all. his tongue crossing his lips as he laughs a bit. it was clear though, he wasn't laughing at you, just laughing at the situation. but still you must tease him, make up for lost time.

“sammy, don't laugh at me.” before you could stop yourself, the nicknames spilled out of your lips. a nickname sam hadn't heard in some time and it made his heart skip a beat.

“babe, it's not my fault, you make it so easy.” there he was again, undressing you with his eyes. whether it be intentional or not, you weren't sure. his cheeks glowed a little pink and you couldn't help but giggle. it's fair game at this point. you never knew sam as someone to use alot of pet names, is he trying to pick you up?

“yeah, well, you're blushing, dork.” it was a dumb retort, and on top of it all you stuck out your tongue at him. crossing your arms like the brat that you are. it seemed your question answered itself. you were somewhere between friends and lovers, and that scared the shit out of you.

“no I'm not.” he said incredulously, like it was something that was physically impossible. he quick to get off the bed, pushing at his cheeks in the mirror.

you're happy to skip up beside him, “yeah, you are, it's like you have a crush on me or something." you giggled. another thing that should have been left unsaid, spoken by you again. it was necessary, you had to know the truth. it felt like life or death, at this moment.

he stands up beside you, and it's only then that you notice he's got at least half a foot on you. it feels intimidating when he smirks at you.

“what if i do? maybe i like to make cute girls squirm,” his hands come to rest on your hips, and you were sure you were gonna faint, have a heart attack, or maybe die.

“sam, what are you doing.” it wasn't a question, cause you didn't want the answer.

“i'm touching you, is that okay?” you can't help but dumbly nod. he leaning towards you and you let him. his lips are soft against yours, and he pulls you closer. his smell and taste was intoxicating. you were sure if you were dead, this would be what heaven felt like.

your hands come to rest on his chest, letting him kiss you a bit longer before pushing him away.

“i-i think we should smoke, yeah, i think we should do that.” you weren't even sure what you were saying at this point. but you didn't want to just get him back and immediately jump into bed. you're not ready for that yet.

“whatever you want, doll.” he presses one soft, chaste kiss to your forehead and walks towards the weed and the rolling papers. you were almoat confused as you followed him back to the bed, who is this man? you wanted to kick your feet and acream into your pillow.

you watch as his skilled, ring-clad fingers pushed the weed into the white papers. you thought you might have a health issue when his tongue dipped over his lips to wet the paper. your reaction doesn't go unnoticed by him, so he just chuckles and finishes sealing the joint.

“now, what you're gonna do, and I'll demonstrate too. put the paper between your lips,” he explained everything in excruciating detail, and it made your legs clamp together a little. you needed more self control, maybe, but you weren't going to let all this get to you. not this fast, it wasn't fair.

setting the paper between his lips, he pulled a lighter out of his pocket, it was white all the plastic wrap has been picked off of it.

“when you hit it, take small puffs, breathe in and then exhale, like this okay?” he making eye contact with you as he does so.

he hands you the joint and you hope it helps you recollect yourself. you do exactly as he said and did, and somehow still end up coughing up a lung. irritated eyes making contact with his playful ocean ones.

“try again, it'll get easier, you're just a baby stoner.” he rubbed your back a little, and you tried again. this time it went down smoothly and you could feel something as soon as you exhaled. you hand him the joint and watch his expert smoking habits.

you never knew how hot someone smoking could be, but here he was. sam, your sam, looked like some bad boy in a teen cliche film. you never knew why girls would go for guys like this, but now you got it.

the two of you spent the rest of the night recalling stories, watching comfort films and laying in his arms. he held you tight, and smoked you out until you were nothing but a giggly, high mess. he got decently stoned himself and you feel asleep like that.

[coffeedepressionsoup]

Somebody Does Love | MYG - He Thinks Nobody Knows

Pairing - Yoongi x F!reader

Summary - "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Two people are in love but that is not enough because sometimes loving requires courage.

This is the one where his friends rallied around him to own up to his feelings. Part 6 of Somebody Does Love.

Series Masterlist

Genre - fluff, strangers to lovers, eventual smut and angst

Word count - 2.7k+

Warnings - mentions of drinking, swearing

Ratings - 13+

Taglist: @majiiisstuff @starlighttaek8 @yoongrace @proudnoona @7ndipity

A/N - Apologies yet again! This took forever to finish. Even on days that I thought I would finish it, either my body would betray me and doze off or my head refused to cooperate. Hope you have fun though. Idk what it is about flustered Yoongi that fills my heart up so much! Not proofed.

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“One more time guys! Come on,” Jungkook urged, half panting, hands on his hips. He looked at Taehyung who was beside him a second ago but now was sprawled on the floor of the dance studio. This new choreography was tiring. 

“Let’s break for 10,” Justin, the choreographer, said. The dancers agreed and dispersed to different sides and corners of the room. Namjoon, Jin and a couple of other dancers left to get some juice from the cafeteria vending machine.

Yoongi plopped down on the floor at one end of the room, dragged his bag towards him and fished out his phone. He smiled down at the message that he saw first and honestly, was anticipating all day long. He typed out a quick reply, with the same smile plastered on his face.

Jimin, standing in front of him, opening a bottle of water, asked, “Is Y/N coming along then?” Yoongi nodded his head, almost involuntarily and then stopped typing and snapped his head up with a frown replacing the smile, almost comically, making the younger one laugh.

“Stop peeping into my phone!” he said.

“Nobody is peeping shit.”

“How’d you know then?”

“You had that stupid Y/N smile on.”

“What Y/N smile?”

Hoseok groaned from a little further away and said, “You guys should really just fuck already,” earning an eye-roll from the older man. He shook his head at the hint of denial and added, “You have that stupid lovestruck little grin on your face whenever you’re around her or even at the mention of her!” 

Yoongi’s cheeks and ears turned bashful red as he went back to his phone and muttered, resting his back against the wall, “I am not lovestruck.”

Jimin let out a chuckle at that and looked towards Hoseok who rolled his eyes this time but with a knowing smile.

Yoongi still felt flustered, an unexplainable nervousness wracking his head. He brought the phone closer to his face as he saw the animated typing bubble pop up on the chat. At Aera’s party, he had gathered enough courage to ask for her number, directly. It was not smooth. Or very subtle. But it did the job. That is enough for now.

“I just realised that we don’t have each other’s contacts yet,” Yoongi muttered, feeling his cheeks and ears heat up.

“You’re right,” Y/N nodded, leaning against the chair he was sitting on. She pulled her phone out, “Tell me your number, and I’ll leave a text.”

They were about 7 or 8 pegs in, each. Yoongi managed to start and sustain a few short conversations with Y/N so far when she was not engaged with her other friends.

Even when she was not talking with him, Yoongi’s attention was stuck on her. Watching her laugh, frown, dance with the others. He tried to not stare but he was not sure he succeeded much. He also learnt of how Aera first met Y/N on a holiday in Brussels. He tried and absorb as much information as he could. Audio. Visual. Anecdotal. 

Ever so often he realised that there is so much about Y/N that he does not know yet. A part of him was resolute to know more. At par with the others, whom she has had core memories and inside jokes with. Another part was hesitant. What if his interest is unwelcome? What if he is being selfish and inconsiderate?

Soon after, Dojoon and Jaehyeong proposed that the group (present at the "party") take a weekend trip to Sokcho. There were also a couple of days of public holidays, and Hajoon owned a beach house to comfortably house them all.

From the surprised look on the drummer’s face, it was clear that his bandmates did not consult him on the matter. But Hajoon enthusiastically agreed. He offered to drive up a day ahead and make all arrangements.

Sammy and a few others had preplanned personal or professional engagements in those days. But most people around the room agreed.

Yoongi had not said anything yet. As people around him started murmuring plans, his eyes went to Y/N. She glanced at Sammy and shook her head.

He felt his heart skip a beat.

Soon Jaehyeong pulled Y/N up from the armrest of the sofa that she was resting against, coaxing her to dance and spoke louder over the music and the chatter. “No excuses, you are coming.”

“Yeah I will take care of Ash, don’t worry,” Sammy offered.

“Stop behaving like you don’t know any of us,” Eunjae, another of their friends, chimed in.

Of course, she now knew so many of them. Some of them, she had also vacationed with before. But never without Sammy. But she had to deal with those nerves. A) She has to step a little out of her comfort zone. B) She wanted to go to the beach, especially if a certain acquaintance was also going. She had not heard him disagreeing, so she hoped that he was coming.

Slowly her attempts to disagree were shut down by her friends screaming louder than the last person. The ruckus carried on for a few seconds till she sighed out loud and said, “Fine, I will come.”

A few minutes later, Y/N came back and sat beside Yoongi, “Are you coming to Sokcho?” she held his gaze, unfaltering. She thanked the liquor in her system for calming her relatively jumpy nerves. He smiled and nodded. She nodded back. “Okay, good.”

Now, in the practice room, a message showed up on Yoongi's phone, “Is it going to be a shirt over a t-shirt kinda cold, or sweater and hoodies kinda cold?”

Yoongi did not notice his smile coming back, as usual, the others did. Before he could reply another message popped up, “I don’t want to overpack and tug along an unnecessarily large bag.”

Sokcho in April is pleasant. Yoongi has been there around this time before. “Shirts over t-shirts should be fine,” he replied. Instantly, an image of Y/N in one of his light blue shirts flashed across his mind. He could feel his cheeks heat up again.

“Perfect! See you tomorrow then :)” 

“See you :)” [Can’t wait!]

______________________________________

The aforementioned tomorrow arrived agonisingly slowly. Yoongi had spent the evening with a couple of his friends. The alcohol did nothing to calm him. His friends persistently teasing him did not help. He thought he was private enough with his feelings for you. But with some of his dumbest friends catching up to it, he began to fear if you had an inkling. Surely, you must have known. Did you think he was odd? Creepy even? But why would you still be friends with him then? Surely, if you knew how much he liked you, and it did not make you uncomfortable, maybe you liked him too?

“You know, Sammy has probably told Y/N by now,” Yijeong said, smacking his lips as he put down the shot glass. He reached out for a chicken wing, but Yoongi slapped his hand away, picked up one of the biggest pieces and tore into it.

Hoseok laughed, his drunk-flushed face getting redder. “Why don’t you just tell her how you feel? What’s the worst that could happen?” he said, folding his arms over his chest, spreading his legs out and up on the chair next to Yoongi.

Yoongi frowned back at his friend and almost dared him to answer his own question with his stare. Has Hobi actually forgotten the whining, pining piece of battered butter he had become when he was crushing on Hyeri (Hobi’s now girlfriend), not even an entire year back?

Breaking eye contact, Hobi shrugged a little before pouring himself another drink.

“Yeah just tell her man,” Yijeong urged, stopping to suck on the chicken bone and adding, “The more you wait, the worse the what ifs get.”

Yoongi gave his friend a side-eye but internally applauded this rare bit of wisdom.

“I want to,” he said in a quiet tone, alerting the other boys to the gravity of his words, a more understanding demeanour dawning over them, replacing their shit-eating grins.

“I mean, I have tried to— rather planned to tell her for a while,” Yoongi continued. “Every time I think of her, I am more convinced than ever that I should ask her out,” gesturing lively with his hands to signify something.

“You know like.. for a good old date, becau- because.. she has such a warm, comforting presence that I can be completely myself with her, no judgements, and I.. keep imagining all these scenarios where she can be as comfortable with me and share her likes and dislikes.” He stopped for a breath.

“I want to give her that space as well. But every time I am with her I am so soaked up in the conversation that there is no beat to bring this up, and when there is a pause, I see her interacting with Sammy or Dojoon, people who she has known for years I mean, and I feel like I will never know her as they know her and maybe I am intruding. Fucking hell, I can’t stop feeling like I am not worth her time - me, my life, all of this,” he gestured around at his very posh and minimalistic living room.

“Yeah, all of that sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” Hobi groaned once he was certain Yoongi’s self-pitying soliloquy was over.

At a questioning look from the older guy, he shrugged and said, “See I know how difficult it is to open up to someone, especially for you. While you have every right to feel anxious and giddy, you cannot make decisions in your head on behalf of the person you like.” 

Yoongi was about to say something, probably along the lines of ‘I am not doing anything on behalf of her,’ but sensing a rebuttal, Hobi leaned forward, held a finger up and looked directly into Yoongi’s eyes.

Yoongi could not remember the last time he felt like he was getting a scolding from the dance leader but he was almost certain it never happened in a personal space. He gulped down the last bit of chicken he was chewing and held Hobi’s gaze, as if to say, “Okay, I am listening. Carry on.”

Hobi started, “Y/N has never said that you are not worth her time. In fact if I remember correctly, she has made time for you, to spend with you, every time you have met, even unannounced.” he paused and sniggered alongside Yijeong as they saw Yoongi wince slightly at his own antics. 

When Sammy told the others, Yoongi wanted to argue that he exaggerated his fluster but then the bastard pulled out receipts. When he returned from walking Woolfie on the first day Yoongi dropped in, he had clicked a picture of the dinner spread. But most importantly, in the background, there was Yoongi looking-no, scratch that- beaming, at Y/N. That single picture had Yoongi’s horde of generally chill friends invested in his crush situation.

[Fond smile]

“I understand your hesitancies but you need to stop kicking your own butt. You like her, hyung. Ask her out. Whatever she responds with, you’ll have a definite answer. No more mental gymnastics,” Hobi finished.

Straightforward. Logical. 

Not that these didn’t strike Yoongi before. But hearing it from a friend, head-on made him want to buckle up more. He nodded slightly.

“Hey and you have a three-day opportunity window coming up. I will even be your wingman if you need,” Yijeong offered in earnest.

A resounding “No” greeted his enthusiasm, to which he rolled his eyes and muttered, “Just wanted to help!” and carried on with his chicken wings foraging.

Three days is not a long time. But three days is longer than the few hours he had with her each time so far. As he saw his friends out and started putting together a bag for the trip, he tried to plan how to take things forward.

Surely all he had to do was talk. Tell you what was on his mind, about how much he likes you, how he intends to date you if you will have him. It should not be a life-threatening level anxiety-ridden matter.

And yet he felt those mammoth fluttering in his stomach. Unpleasant to the point of becoming nauseating. Deep down he knew he was scared of an outright rejection and he could not will himself together to face it.

Just then his phone dinged with a notification. It was placed on top of the dresser at the other end of the room. Shoving the last shirt in the bag and zipping it shut, he let out a sigh as he dragged his feet across the floor. 

Before he could reach out to grab the handset, Scar jumped up on the dresser.

“Are you not sleepy yet?” Yoongi asked softly and scratched the top of the cat’s head just like he knew the feline preferred. As the cat started purring, pleased with the petting and attention, Yoongi’s phone dinged a couple more times.

With his other hand, he reached around Scar and pulled his phone up near his face.

The latest couple of messages were from Namjoon.

“Hyung, think I left my AirPods at yours”

“Please get them tomorrow”

Yoongi tsk-ed internally. Of course.

As he dragged down the notification bar further to reveal more messages, his heart skipped a bit.

Y/N’s name shone out brighter to him than all else. The lockscreen showed that she had shared an image with him.

He could feel his heartbeat, loud and clear. As he clicked on the chat, his mind raced faster.

The Y/N smile came back. Only Scar saw it now. A little annoyed at the absence of scratches, he mewled lowly. 

Yoongi looked up and still smiling, turned his phone towards the cat.

“Think you will be friends with her?”

It was a picture of Ash sitting inside Y/N’s bag, with the caption, “Someone wants to come along.”

[Photo Y/N sent]

She would not text him if she was not thinking about him, right? That has to be a good thing, right? Before he could overthink too much, Yoongi wrote back, “I understand the appeal <3”

What the fuck does that mean? It means if I were Ash I would also want to go with you. Anywhere. Everywhere.

“I wish she could come too,” he added, thinking that would be more appropriate.

Quick dings again. Heart reacts to both messages.

His heart was now beating in his throat.

“Maybe next time I can look for a pet-proofed place and bring her along,” her reply read.

Heart react. Next time, “we” can book a pet-proofed place and go just by ourselves.

“I am sure she will love it,” he typed in.

“I will miss her,” Y/N replied, adding in another message, “Haven’t spent nights away from her yet.”

“Three days will pass before you know it”

It seemed like he was also telling this to himself. But as a warning.

“She will be too busy stealing Woolfie’s treats anyways,” he added.

He had grown very fond of that kitten. Mischievous, but adorable. Maybe the fondness stems from being involved in her rescue endeavour. 

Y/N does not know it was him yet. That is a rabbit hole he refuses to go down now.

A laugh react to the second message.

“That is true. And I think she is more fond of Sammy than me, anyways. So she should be fine.”

“I am sure that is not true. But yes, she will be alright!” he added an arm emoji and replied.

Two more dings.

“Hopefully”

“See you tomorrow. Goodnight! :)”

“See you! Goodnight :)”

Ding. Heart react.

Yoongi let out an audible breath.

Yeah. He has to grow a spine and speak. Tomorrow. At the earliest chance he can get.

[theemporium]

Hi! I hope you’re having a wonderful day.

Can I request jealous Sirius? The story can go however you like. I hope that’s okay

Have an amazing day x

i hope you have an amazing day too! thank you for requesting!🖤

.

“Mate, you’re glaring.”

“I’m not glaring,” Sirius scoffed dismissively.

“Yes. Yes, you are. What you are doing is, like, the definition of glaring,” James continued, watching his best friend with an amused expression. “Like, dictionary definition.” 

Sirius resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I am not glaring. I am just looking.” 

This time it was Remus who snorted, shaking his head as he took a long sip from his beer. “You’re fucking ridiculous, Pads.”

Sirius’ brows furrowed together, but still his eyes remained glued to where they had been for the last fifteen minutes. “What? Why?”

“Because you have spent all night getting pissy and jealous over a fucking cat,” Remus told him.

The worst part was that, deep down, Sirius knew he was right. He was jealous over a fucking cat but it was his own fault that the cat was now hogging all of your attention. 

He had been coming back home from a night out at the pub with the other boys when he noticed the little white cat curled in a cardboard box in some dodgy alley near your flat. He made his way back to the flat, the rain only getting heavier in the three minute walk where he burst through the door and told you about the poor creature. 

Being the ever-caring animal lover you were, you barely shoved your shoes on before you were racing out of the apartment. You had both spent the better part of forty minutes in the rain trying to coax the poor guy out of the box to come towards you before you scooped him up and took him back to your apartment where you washed and fed him. 

Now, less than three days later, the white cat—now affectionately named Vincent—was curled in your arms, purring happily and enjoying every ounce of attention he was getting from you and the other girls who had come to visit him.

And Sirius couldn’t help but feel bitter resentment in the pit of his stomach. 

He was being replaced by a fucking cat. Even at night, the little fucker always managed to wiggle his way in between you and Sirius was seriously losing his patience.

You weren’t unaware of your boyfriend’s feelings but you couldn’t help but find great amusement in the matter. Sirius would whine and complain that the cat was replacing him, that Vincent was injecting himself into your relationship and it wasn’t fair that he barely got any attention anymore. 

He would constantly find flyers for rehoming centres or mention how the family two floors up are looking for a pet or even suggesting sending him off to the pet shop a few blocks away. Sirius was constantly finding ways to get the cat out of your house. 

And it was fucking hilarious to you simply because of moments like this.

Everyone had left your place around thirty minutes ago and you had spent the best part of that time taking your makeup off and sorting out your skincare whilst your boyfriend said he would clean up the living room and kitchen. When you exited the bathroom though, you found your boyfriend already falling asleep on the bed. With Vincent curled up on his chest. 

You paused as you took in the sight, smiling softly as you moved around the room quietly before slowly sliding into the bed next to your boys.

“Baby?” Sirius murmured sleepily. 

“Seems like you’re replacing me now,” you teased lightly, watching as he slowly blinked his eyes open and stared down at the purring cat on his chest before his eyes fell shut again.

“He’s still a little shit,” Sirius told you.

“Uh huh,” you hummed as you settled down beside your boys after placing a kiss on each of their heads. “You love him.”

“I love you more,” he said with a tired smile.

“But you still love him.” 

Sirius just shrugged, though his hand was placed protectively on the cat. “He’s alright.”

.

[madridfangirl]

Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fic)

Chapter 5

(Series Link)

Jude * female reader. Mature Language in parts.

Synopsis: A chance encounter in a tiny Madrid cafe with the newest superstar of her fav club. The two couldn't be more different, yet both feel the pull toward the other. Would this girl be the one he finally falls for? Would she make him change his ways? Even though she resists him every step of the way, would he fight all odds (& her) to have her in his life? Or would life come in the way of these star-crossed lovers?

..........................................................

Ananya reached her apartment around 1 am. Roma was not back yet, thankfully. She wasn’t ready for her interrogation. 

The night still felt surreal. She leaned against the dining table and held on to the edges to steady the head-rush she was feeling. If the Tupperware of leftover pasta was not in front of her (he had insisted she took some coz she had barely eaten), the girl would have seriously wondered if she had hallucinated the whole thing. But no, this really happened. And she didn’t bail on whatever this was, as she had initially planned to do.

The wine was still buzzing in her system, helping calm her nerves. Before turning in for the night, she sent him a quick message.

Ananya: Reached 15 mins ago. Thanks for the drop. 

She wasn’t expecting a response. He must have a ton of people to talk to / respond to after the match earlier that night. So she started an episode of Friends, hoping to fall asleep in a bit.

5 mins later, her phone flashed.

Jude: Cool. Tired?

Ananya: Oh yeah, in bed already. You?

She rubbed her temple to soothe her straining eyes. It had been some day. 

Jude: Wanted to crash but some of the guys still partying at Vini’s house. Cama kept sending me videos, gosh he’s so wasted right now. Came there for a bit.

She smiled at her phone. The team deserved every bit of celebration tonight.

Ananya: That’s nice. Have fun :)

Jude: Yup. What plans for tmrw? Boss cancelled our training so I am free till afternoon. 

Ananya: Have to work a few hours in the morning, which might extend, not sure.

Jude: On Sunday morning?

Ananya: Welcome to investment banking.

Jude: Keep forgetting how smart you are.

Ananya: Not that smart, but ok :)

Jude: So, I have an ad shoot tomorrow evening, then flying out for an away game on Monday after training. Don’t know when I will see you next.

A wave of sadness hit her, surprising her with its force. Her brain admonished her. She had only just met him and she needed to get a grip. 

Ananya: It’s fine. Will figure something when you are back.

Jude: Hmm. Haven’t even kissed you yet and you are already messing with my head.

The sadness was replaced by a warm shiver as she stared at the screen and thought of a response. But couldn’t come up with any.

Jude: Did you just fall asleep on me? 

Ananya: Stop being dramatic. I am right here.

Jude: Naa, wish you were HERE. Why’d you leave?

Ananya: Jude, you know why.

There was something about the way she said his name that made him want to hear it on loop, in various settings. God damnit this girl.

Jude: Yeah yeah. You thought we won’t be able to keep it in our pants.

She choked on water, and some spilled out on her blanket. 

Ananya: How drunk are you?

Jude: Plentyyyy. Don even know what’s been shoved down my throat anymore. 

Ananya: Figures :)

Jude: One last thing. Veryyyy important, like proper critical. 

Ananya: Yes?

Jude: Need to see you in my jersey. 

She smiled to herself before typing.

Ananya: Maybe win the Madrid derby next, score the winner, and then we’ll talk?

Jude: Tough, tough crowd. No mercy. No rest for the wicked. No respect for the Classico winner. 

He was even more dramatic when he was drunk. She could almost hear the whining from his texts.

Ananya: Good night, Jude :)

Jude: Good night, dove. Try not to dream of me too much. Mwahhh!

She smiled at the screen and ended up kissing it, finally drifting off to sleep.

Next morning, she woke up to a message from him. Sent at 5 am. A drunk out of their wits pic with Jude, Cama and Fede. Along with a caption.

Jude: Your preciousss Cama.

Then, another message from a few seconds later.

Jude: Don’t stare too long. 

She responded with a heart emoji to the picture and got started with her day.

Next few hours were hectic. She got into her work mode, shutting out all the madness that had transpired the day before.

Still, in between, her eyes drifted to her phone, to see if there were any new messages. Poor guy must have been sleeping. Or busy. He did say he had an ad shoot in the second half.

She somehow pulled through the day, and it was almost 5 pm when she finally finished work. Roma was also on the same project. The girls sighed about it being Monday morning just  next day, and decided to make the most of their remaining evening. 

They ended up at the same cafe where Ananya had met him the other day. Was it just two days ago? God - so much had happened since then.

She ordered her favourite churros and took a picture. Then wondered whether she should send it to him. Would it look desperate? Like she was just seeking his attention? She couldn’t have that.

But it was a harmless pic. He would get the reference. Deciding to not overthink it, she ended up sending the photo with a caption.

Ananya: Back to ground zero!

No blue tick for over 15 mins.

Roma rolled her eyes at her then.

‘Can you stop the sappiness? Look around - lovely day. Lovely food. Let’s get some Sangria and let the world go to hell.’

Her roommate was the best. The two perfectly complimented each other. Plus, her American upbringing lent her this carefree attitude which Ananya really wished to imbibe.

‘Well, how can anyone say no to Sangria?’

The girls ordered a pitcher and ended up staying there for a few hours. Gossiping about their colleagues. Talking about life. Planning a vacation - Sevilla and Granada were top of their list. They looked up their calendars and found a long weekend that seemed ideal. The prospect itself making them cheerful.

By the time they got back, it was already 9 pm. There was still nothing from him. Not even a blue tick. She knew he was working. Yet, an ugly thought still creeped in - was this just a one night distraction? Did he already…lose interest after she dumped her constraints on him? All her doubts from last night came rushing back, leaving an unpleasant taste in her mouth.

She got into bed and tried watching a movie. Anything random to keep her thoughts at bay. While scrolling through her insta.

And there it was - a post from him a few mins ago about the ad campaign for a cologne. With a gorgeous, stunning model at his arm. Ofcourse. 

The first photo looked like a part of the creative. The two were dressed immaculately in all black, she was leaning against his chest while his hand rested just above her butt. Seductiveness oozing from every inch of that frame.

The next was a BTS video - of him just being goofy on set while getting ready or trying to take a shot & not getting it right. The whole crew just getting charmed by his antics and boyish smiles. The model, in particular being extra supportive, extra attentive, giggling a bit too hard while holding onto his arm. Perfect hair, perfect figure and perfect skin. Ofcourse. 

And just then, her insta reels recommendation showed Jude hugging multiple female fans who had lined up outside his shoot. They screamed his name, begging for hugs and he obliged. Warm, cozy, Jude hugs. Granted he only wrapped one arm around their shoulder and looked embarrassed when some of them reached up to kiss his cheek or pulled him closer, but still. This wasn’t something she needed to see right now. 

Was this going to be her life from now on? Curled into bed, following his activities on social media, feeling inadequate. She didn’t deserve it. No girl deserved this. 

She threw her phone aside and forced herself to focus on the movie. It was already 9:45, it would be best to get some sleep soon. Next week was going to be super hectic at work. Yes, work is what she needed do focus on. That’s why she was halfway across the world in this city. That was her goal in life right now. Not some ridiculously handsome random boy who made women go weak in their knees everywhere he went. 

Around 10 pm, her phone buzzed. She had tucked herself into bed by then and almost decided to not look at it. But curiosity got the better of her.

Jude: Heyyy. Sorry my phone was not with me. Just getting back from a shoot.

She was equal parts relieved and irritated with that message. Ananya took a deep breath to calm herself down, and thought of a neutral response.

Ananya: Oh yeah, you had mentioned. How did it go?

Jude: Not too bad. Somehow got an ok on my take, that’s all I care about honestly. This acting gig ain’t no joke. 

Ananya: Hmm.

Jude: Churros looked lovely. Hope you had fun.

Ananya: Yep, and yep.

Jude: Tired? Am I keeping you from something?

Ananya: Nope. 

Jude: Why so wry then? What’s happened?

Oh, how she wanted to scream. What’s happened was exactly what she didn’t want to happen. What she swore she won’t put herself through with another boy. And this was amplified 1000 times here coz of who Jude was. 

She started typing, then deleted, then typed again, unable to find the right words. This went on for two mins. 

Jude: Can I call?

She sighed, exasperated. Her voice will immediately give away her irritated and confused state. But he knew something was up and typing like this was getting exhausting.

Ananya: Sure.

He called the next second. She braced herself, then answered. 

‘Hey.’

She couldn’t have possibly made it sound drier even if she tried. 

‘Hey. Wassup?’

‘Nothing, was just about to crash. Already in bed.’

‘Hmm, won’t keep you for long. Just wanna hear your voice.’

Damn him. To the moon and back. Damn his sweet agonising voice. 

‘Why? Looks like you had enough company today.’

The words just tumbled out of her before she could check herself. Great going girl, way to make yourself look pathetic. 

He paused for a few seconds.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Nothing, forget it.’

‘Tell me you’ll sort this on your own and wake up all fine tomorrow morning, I’ll leave it be.’

She knew that wasn’t gonna happen. There was also no way for this to ever work if she wasn’t honest with him. Especially given his situation, things will just compound and then break very quickly. If they ever even get started, that is. 

‘The photos bothered me a bit.’

She could sigh him breathe audibly at the other end - probably getting irritated at her insecurity. Or her immaturity. Maybe both. 

‘What about them bothered you?’

Damn him for always making her spell everything out loud.

‘Just…her? Everything about that stunning woman. Looks like she fancied you.’

She could tell the wheels were churning in his mind at the other end.

‘I see. And you think I should be with someone like her. In fact, maybe I am going to her hotel room right now & talking to you on the way.’

Her silence was deafening. Jude gripped the edge of his seat to not curse out loud. 

‘Ananya - didn’t we speak about this last night? Are we gonna go back full circle here?’

‘I am sorry. It’s just - I don’t know how I could ever compete with someone like that. Also, I don’t want to. I am a normal, regular girl Jude. Don’t need that in my life right now, or ever.’

‘YOU DON’T HAVE TO COMPETE. Can’t you see you have already won?’

Warmth and fuzziness ran over her, making her feel gooey inside. She had to clutch her tummy to arrest that feeling. To arrest the freefall. 

‘You don’t know what’s gonna happen.’

Jude fought the urge to throw his phone against the opposite seat. 

‘DO YOU? Does anyone? Girl, why don’t you believe me when I say I want you? Should I list down how much I have fantasised about you the last two days? How much I wanna…..’

‘Stop, please stop Jude. Please.’

Both were breathing heavily at this point, for different reasons.

‘Can I ask you for one thing, Ananya? Try trusting me till I give you an explicit reason not to. I am not such a dog, y’know. Yes, I have seen multiple girls together before but all parties KNEW it was casual. No commitments. This is not that. This is not a situationship. I would have told you to your face if that’s what I was looking for.’

She clutched her phone close to her chest. Him being who he was had made it all so hard. But he was right - he hadn’t done anything. Well, not yet. 

‘I don’t know what to say, Jude. Like I know a lot of this is in my head but I don’t know how to make it go away.’

Heavy breathing continued at both ends. He broke the silence after a few moments. 

‘How about this? Ask me what you really wanna ask me. All your unsaid questions, assumptions, perceptions about me that make you want to distance yourself. I won’t lie, promise. Be the smart girl I know you are and break it down like you will a work project.’

That was actually a fair suggestion. She could see what he was trying to do by appealing to her logical side. Not just a pretty face. Clearly not. 

She chucked her inhibitions on how crude her questions might sound. He was right - without this they would keep coming back full circle.

‘So…when you said you were dating multiple women together..’

‘Seeing…not dating.’

He clarified before she could go on. It was an important distinction for him. 

‘Yes, seeing them together, how long back was that?’

‘In Dortmund.’

‘Hmmm.’

She didn’t know how to feel about that. So she skipped to the next obvious question.

‘And…what about Madrid?’

‘Seen a couple, texted a couple, but not at the same time.’

‘Ok. When was the last time you were…you know..’

He understood the question before her finishing it.

‘Two weeks ago.’

‘I see.’

That wasn’t too long back. Was he still in touch with her? Did they meet up at his house? Something about the last thought made her feel icky.

‘And, these rendezvous, usually happen where?’

He chuckled at her choice of words. She really was something. 

‘At a hotel close by. It’s a private, exclusive property.’

‘Ofcourse.’

He could tell there was a tinge of sarcasm in that last word but chose to let it go.

‘Are you in touch with her….the last one?’

‘Not since a week.’

She was feeling particularly bold at this point. Jude could anticipate her next question from a mile away.

‘Well, are you planning to?’

‘Nope. Not her. Not anyone else. I will only be with you and you will only be with me. Exclusively.’

He declared without hesitation. Her mouth open and closed at his last line, unsure of how to react. He waited patiently. 

‘And what about the hordes of women who throw themselves at you daily? Who would do absolutely anything you want, and more?’

‘There is no easy fix here. You will have to find a way to believe that I will not stray, I will not indulge them.’

He could have backed his statement with evidence. Coz the model from today did slip him her number & he had politely wriggled out of that. But even he had the good sense to know this wasn't the time to bring that up.

She appreciated how he didn’t try to feed her any rosy crap, really following through on answering honestly. His tone & speed of response gave her enough assurance that he wasn’t being evasive. 

She had run out of questions and said as much to him. Weirdly, in some inexplicable way, this was healing.

‘My turn then.’

This caught her off guard. But it was a fair ask, after the grilling she just put him through. 

‘Sure, go ahead.’

‘Open your door in precisely 1 minute. I will ask in person.’

The phone dropped from her hand as she sat up, landing somewhere under the blanket. She reached for it blindly with one hand while switching on the lights with the other. 

‘What do you mean in person? You don’t know where I live.’

‘Agnes knows.’

Ofcourse. His driver had dropped her home last night. Great, his presence was making her dumb now.

‘But….what if someone sees you? Roma is home too. The house is so messy. And I am, I am..One second, your shoot was on the other side of town and this is not in your way. What would you be doing here? Are you messing with me?’

She rambled faster that the speed of light. He ignored every other comment but picked up on the last one.

‘How did you know where my shoot was?’

Damn. Bloody rotten hell. She groaned audibly on the phone and he laughed out loud.

‘Dove is a stalkerrrrrr!’

He said teasingly, in a sing-song voice. 

Before she could respond, she heard a car honk under her window. No, this couldn’t be. He wouldn’t. Would he?

‘Buzz me in and open the door. I am getting out of the car now.’

Ananya rushed frantically to the door, buzzing the building gate open. The idea of someone seeing him here filling her with nerves. Thankfully, she was on the first floor, half a staircase away from the building door.

Three seconds later, she saw him enter the building. Eight seconds later, she was grabbing his arm and pulling him into the apartment, shutting the door firmly behind them.

What was he thinking? What if someone had seen him outside? The media crap storm would have been unstoppable. How irresponsible was this? The gall of him to show up unannounced like that, anytime he wanted. Oh, she was mad. Raving mad.

Before she could turn around and give him a piece of her mind, strong arms wrapped around her from behind. 

‘Sorry. Just wanted to see you once before I fly out tomorrow. Didn’t want to leave on this note.’

And just like that, he knocked the fight out of her chest. With two simple lines. Frankly she was a goner at sorry itself. The boy carried a magic wand of persuasion with him. 

Her shoulders, which were tensed in anger, dropped as she leaned back into his chest. He kissed the back of her head, conveying his gratitude.

She could stay like this forever. In his warm, comforting hold. His scent, familiar by now (when did that happen?), seeping into her skin, taking over her senses. His big, calloused hands enveloping her smaller ones. Involuntarily, she sighed.

‘Thank you for being honest with me earlier. I feel better now.’

‘I am glad. My turn? Only have one question.’

‘Ofcourse.’

He turned her around in his arms and tilted her chin up to look straight into her eyes.

‘Would you let me kiss you right now?’

Time stood still. She was very numb yet very aware in that moment. The dim lighting in the living room from the night lamp, the faint noise from the street, the rhythmic tapping of feet coming from Roma’s locked room who was blaring music on her headphones. All registering in some peripheral part of her brain.

But what she was hypnotised by was his face, and his eyes, gazing intently at her, drawing her in. How was it ever possible to say no to that face? To those big brown eyes which looked even deeper, softer, more vulnerable than ever before?

She didn’t realise when he took off his jacket, nudged her towards the dining table a short distance away, put his hands on the sides of her waist, lifted her slightly to place her on the table. But when her legs were being parted gently so he could stand in front of her, their torsos touching, her trance broke. The heat radiating from his body was palpable. 

Jude’s face was inches away, almost eye level.  A pleasing, handsome, perfectly symmetrical face. The dim lighting creating a halo around him. Ananya tilted her head to look at Roma’s room and if it was still locked. But he put two fingers on her cheek to turn her back to him.

‘Been waiting for this since I saw you.’

Jude lifted her arms & wrapped them around his neck, while his hands stroked her back. The flimsy fabric of her tank top not providing any barrier; it was almost like he was stroking her skin. Her legs, spread wide apart to fit him in, dangled aimlessly on the edge of the table.

How was he expecting a coherent verbal response from her in this situation?

She slowly slid one of her hands from his long muscly neck to his hair, fingers gliding through the thick, firm, soft curls. Her eyes searching his, telling him this is the best she could do right now.

That was all the signal he needed. Her grip in his hair tightened as he angled his head to cover her lips with his. Plump, pillowy lips caressing hers. Making her tightly shut her eyes and whimper out. Which broke something in him.

He dove in again with more urgency, parting her lips this time, getting them to move in sync with his. She gladly obliged, submitting to his rhythm while her heart hammered against her chest. She wondered if he could hear it too. But he was too occupied with tasting her mouth. All her little sounds & shudders giving him a head rush. His hot breath fanning her cheeks. 

When her whimpers went up an octave, he gave her a little breather, connecting their foreheads as they breathed in the same air. Her hands had fallen to the wide expanse of his shoulders, clutching at them to anchor herself. 

He kissed her forehead, the top of her eyes, and placed two delicate pecks on each cheek. His light stubble grazing her skin. She tilted her head involuntarily along with his movements, giving him ready access, like a puppy would to someone petting it. 

‘Ananya, lemme see you.’

The way he said her name, the fondness in his voice, it was like a silent command she couldn’t deny. Her hands gripped his shoulders tighter as she opened her eyes. 

He smiled affectionately, and it took her breath away. All the walls she had built around herself, all the rules, all the notions of just focusing on her work for now, this boy had bulldozed his way through all that with just his breathtaking smile.

Some part of her still conscious brain tried to chide her that she was no different than any of the other girls fawning over him. All it took was him showering her with his undivided attention and she was putty in his hands. But her brain couldn’t get a word in edgewise, her other senses had taken over. 

Jude reached for her hands, unclasped them from his shoulders, somehow sensing the tension in them. What he did next made her lightheaded. He moved his lips to her palms, placing soft, lingering kisses on both. And then, he moved her hands to his face, as if asking her to hold him. Somehow, this felt even more intimate than their kiss. 

His unending torso was all hard muscle, pressed into hers, but his face was soft. Rugged yet soft. Her hands couldn’t even fully cover his cheeks, she noted absentmindedly. So she used the pads of her thumbs to stroke the rest of his gorgeous face. 

Suddenly, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer into him. She looked up in surprise, finding darker, hooded eyes. 

‘The next time you wanna run away from me, remember this feeling.’

Not only had his eyes changed colour but his voice had turned hoarse too. Insistent lips crashed into hers, prying them open, his tongue penetrating her mouth. She gasped at the invasion. One of her hands fell from his face  & settled behind her on the table, trying to find balance, as the force of his kiss made her lean backwards, with him looming over her. 

His spare hand gripped her bare thigh to help steady her. She just realised how her tiny sleeping shorts had completely inched up her legs, leaving them almost fully bare. His hand was firm and his fingers dug into her skin, making her head spin.

She lost her balance, despite his support, falling further backwards and knocking down a container behind her on the table. He broke the kiss & stretched his arm to reach for the container, finding it just before it was about to crash on the floor. While she just panted in his hold.

‘Jude…I..’

‘Shhhhh, I got you.’

They fell into a warm, comforting embrace. Arms settling around each others’ backs. Her face resting in the crook of his neck as he quietly stroked her hair.

‘Did it ever occur to you that it’s hard for me to trust as well?’

That made her grudgingly break the hug and look up at him with confused eyes, while their arms remained locked around each other. 

‘It’s tough to figure if someone really likes me for me or it’s the lifestyle, fame, money and exposure that they are after. If a private encounter would remain private or the details would be splashed over some social media later. If some photoshopped images or invented stories be circulated as sworn truth. I have struggled to judge, so honestly I stopped trying. Keeping it just about sex was simpler. Uncomplicated. Convenient. No strings attached.’

No, it hadn’t occurred to her at all. Not till he put it like that. On any other day, she would have been irked at him trying to conveniently defend his conscious indulgences. But it felt more like an admission than justification. 

She stroked his neck and shoulders as he continued being vulnerable with her. 

‘You see, the normal and regular you think to be such a distancing factor, is in fact the opposite. A huge chunk of my life will always be public, I get that. I signed up for that. But this bit, I wanna protect. I’d love to come home to someone normal.’

Ananya stroked his face with all the tenderness she could muster. Trying to show that she understands. From the way he relaxed into her, she figured he got her message. 

Jude knew he had to be careful with her. Seeing her skimpy nightclothes hugging her body tonight had already disrupted his brain chemistry. He couldn’t shake the thought of how easy it would be to just push her on her back then & there. To rid her of the flimsy fabric barely covering her form l, with one determined tug. 

That’s why he knew he had to leave soon, while he was still thinking with his head. She wasn’t ready, not yet. 

‘That your room?’

He tilted his head towards the open door at the end of the corridor. 

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Want me to carry you in and tuck you into bed? I will leave after a goodnight kiss.’

She met his gaze with a twinkle in her eye, cocking her head sideways, biting her lip slowly. His eyes followed every little movement. 

‘Think you can handle being in my bedroom just to tuck me in?’

Boy, he didn’t see that coming. Didn’t know she had it in her. It immediately made him even more interested. The open challenge in her eyes, the suggestive tone, and that jutting out bottom lip. That needed to be responded to.

He leaned in and bit down at the same spot on her lower lip, making it sting a bit, then flicking it with his tongue. His hand gripped her bare thigh again, knocking the sass out of her.

‘Lippy. So lippy. I love it.’

He continued rubbing circles on her thigh with his thumb till he drew a moan out of her, despite her biting her cheek to keep it in.

‘Your pretty brain may not approve of me yet, but your body is definitely #TeamJude.’

She gasped, and he chose that moment to lean in for a deep goodnight kiss. Making it wet & sloppy, on purpose, so much so that she had to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand when he was done with her.

‘Sleep tight, dove. Talk to ya tomorrow. And..’

He leaned in to whisper in her ear, enunciating each word.

‘Will think about you tonight. Maybe in the car as well.’

With one last attempted wink, he bid her goodbye and walked out. While she was still perched up on the table, her body tingling everywhere he had touched her, her lips tasting of him, and her mind reeling from what had just happened.

……………………… 

There it is. Was delayed because, well, the pictures threw me off :)

As always, feedback / comments are always welcome. Hope you are enjoying their journey so far!

[blueicequeen19]

Broken & Loved

Warnings: mentions of abuse, unprotected sex in the Twinkie, praise, degradation, friends turned lovers

You jump, startled, when JJ plops down in the hammock. No regard for almost flipping it and sending you to the ground. You open your mouth to scold him when you see the hurt in his eyes. The bruises on his face. The beaten knuckles. The dried blood.

Your anger quickly dissolves as you try to think of something to say.

“Do you ever get tired of not being good enough?” His words mixed with the deep somber tone of his voice gives you chills. You knew exactly what he meant.

“All the time.” You murmur, bringing your knees to your chest as he brings his weed pen to his lips and inhales deeply. The smoke exits through his nose like an angry dragon a moment later. Even when he was like this, you could help but admire how handsome he was.

“I sometimes wonder what my life would’ve been like if my mother had stuck around.” You stay silent as he vents, staring out over the water as he takes another hit and exhales.

“But then he’d have someone else to blame for his shitty hand in life and she’d probably look the same way I do.”

“Your dad is a piece of shit.” The words slip out, your anger getting the best of you. JJ looks at you finally, not saying anything for a moment.

“It’s better me than her.” JJ finally says.

“It shouldn’t be either of you. Luke should be in jail.”

“They’d just let him out.”

“Move in with John B. You’re here all the time anyway.”

“He’d drag me back.”

“You’re 18.”

“And look at my face. You think he cares? Now he just thinks he has a man to fight now instead of a child.” Tears fill your eyes for this beautiful broken soul sitting in front of you, trying to numb the pain with weed.

You swallow, carefully moving to his side of the hammock and between his parted knees. His eyes narrow for a moment as he stares back at you.

“What are you doing?” JJ rasps, the edge in his voice replaced by something else. His eyes become hooded as he looks from your mouth to your eyes.

“Making you feel better.” You whisper, resting your hands against his chest and licking your lips. You could feel his heart racing in his chest.

“I don’t want your pity.” His words don’t hold any weight, unable to look away from your lips.

“It’s not pity. It’s me showing you that you’re cared for. That someone loves you.” Your own heart skips a beat at the word love and his eyes soften, brushing your hair from your face.

“I don’t deserve your love.” JJ whispers, just as you lean in and plant your lips against his in a soft kiss. JJ kisses you back just as gently, taking his time and savoring the way your lips feel.

“You deserve all the good in life.” You murmur, letting your tongue slip into his mouth and he groans, pulling you onto his lap and deepening the kiss.

You stay like that for what feels like hours. Just drinking each other in and feeling each other. His shirt and hat come off and he shudders under your touch, his own hands splayed across your back as he feasts on your lips.

“Things won’t be weird after this, right?” JJ pants between kisses, his hands sliding down to grip your ass. You moan softly against his lips, the seam of your shorts pressing against your needy clit just right as you start to roll your hips in search of friction.

“No, of course not.” You murmur but then you start to have second thoughts, wondering if maybe he’s backing out.

“But we can still stop if you want. I won’t be mad.” You pull your lips from his but he squeezes your ass, thrusting up against your groin.

“Do you feel how hard I am? I want you as long as you want me.” JJ trails his lips down your jaw, his scruff tickling against your skin as he moves to kiss your neck. You tip your head to the side to grant him access, your hands tangled in his thick locks.

“I want you, J. More than anything.” You almost wince at how painfully vulnerable you sound but he distracts you, tugging the strings of your bikini top until it falls between the two of you.

“We should go inside.” You hiss just as his mouth attaches to your nipple. You bite back a moan, arching your back and forcing your breasts in his face.

“I have a better idea.” The two of you slip from the hammock, you cradled in his arms to hide your bare chest as he makes a mad dash for the Twinkie.

“JJ. No.” You bite back a giggle as he carefully slides the door open and sits you in the bench seat. He climbs in, careful not to slam the door before he’s pulling you back onto his lap.

“John B is going to kill you.” You pant, pulling gently on his hair as his teeth graze your nipple.

“When isn’t he gonna kill me?” JJ retorts, sucking hard on the swell of your breast until there’s a faint purple mark.

“Dude! No hickies!” You scold, pushing his face away playfully. He grins, turning you both and planting your back on the seat. He kisses you, grinding himself against your groin until you’re both panting and your lips are numb.

“Tell me this is real. That this is really happening.” JJ pants between kisses. You cup his face, gazing into his almost blackened blue eyes.

“This is real. I’m beneath you and I want you.” He answers with a satisfied moan, his hands finding the buttons on your shorts.

“Are you on birth control?” He rasps, tugging your shorts down your legs and helping you remove your bikini bottoms next.

“Yes. Are you clean?”

“I’ve never fucked without a condom.” You try to swallow the lump in your throat as he removed his shorts and boxers. Your mouth watered, begging to be on him. His cock was long and veiny. The tip was red and swollen, begging to be inside you.

“Me neither.” His mouth is on you again, kissing and licking and sucking any part of your flesh he can. Your nipples are tender and drawn so tight that every touch has you bucking against him.

“Do you want me to wear one?” JJ murmurs, his mouth gliding over your navel and towards your mound.

“No..yes! No!” Your back arched off the seat as his tongue found your slit, licking tenderly like he was savoring a sundae on a hot day. It was so soft and gentle but so torturous to your pulsing body.

“JJ.” You moaned his name, threading your fingers through his hair and bucking against his face. You felt him smile as his tongue lapped lightly at your swollen clit.

“Tell me.” He sucks gently on your clit and you moan loudly, tugging hard on his hair. “Tell me what you want.” Taking his mouth away to mark your thighs instead.

“More. I want more.” You cried, feeling him smirk against your sensitive flesh while he leaves wet kisses.

“Tell me what you want.” JJ growls, making you sigh in frustration while also making your cheeks warm with humiliation. You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. His face was buried between your thighs and you couldn’t help but feel shy and exposed.

“Tell me. I’ll give you whatever you want, whenever you want it. Just tell me and I’ll give it to you, baby.” Your heart soars over the affectionate name, his tongue circling your entrance at a torturous pace.

“Eat my pussy. Please. Make me cum on your tongue.” You blurt, looking down to see him smiling with a wicked glint in his lust blown blue eyes.

“Good girl.” Your back arches off the seat when his mouth suddenly latches onto your plump clit, greedily sucking and lapping you up to a surprisingly swift orgasm with nothing but his mouth.

“God, your pussy is so creamy.” JJ groans, slowly crawling up your body and kissing you with his cum covered lips. You moan into his mouth, tasting yourself as your tongues collided. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You never wanted it to end.

JJ guides himself to your entrance, your lips hovering over each other just as he slips inside and making you both moan in unison. JJ comes down on his elbows on either side of your head, kissing you gently.

You must wince in pain as he fills you deeply because he withdraws his hips just slightly, hiking your legs over his hips.

“It’s okay. You’re doing great. Is it too much?” His voice is deeper and thick with desire against your lips. His arms were shaking and you could feel the sweat running down his back.

“It’s a lot but don’t stop. Just ease me into it.” You pant breathlessly, not missing the satisfied smirk on his face from his ego being stroked.

“Okay, you just tell me to stop and I will.” He kisses you again, bringing his hips forward and you gasp, arching your hips to meet his. It felt like he was in your stomach and about to come out your throat. He wasn’t the first guy you’d had sex with but he was by far the thickest.

“JJ—.” His name slips from your lips and he growls, halting his movements.

“Too much?”

“No! Don’t stop.”

“Fuck,” You were driving him absolutely crazy, he couldn’t think straight. “Don’t say my name like that or this is going to be over before we even get started.” JJ groans, kissing you as he starts to move in and out. Your breath hitches and your nails dig into his back, needing more.

“I feel like you’re in my stomach.” You whimper and his head hangs, shaking with a laugh as he starts to roll his hips forward.

“That mouth of yours is going to ruin me.” JJ growls, kissing you to silence you. You whimper, feeling your peaked nipples dragging across his chest with each thrust.

“JJ, call me yours.” You rasp, digging your nails into his shoulder blades and angling your hips up.

“Do you want me to degrade you or praise you?” He whispers in your ear, giving you chills while also setting your body on fire.

“Degrade me. I want to be your whore.” You plead, your cheeks on fire with humiliation but it was something you’d always wanted to explore. To be degraded by someone that wanted you just as badly as you wanted them.

“You want to be my dirty little whore? You like how I can fuck you where ever I want, whenever I want. I bet you’re leaving a cum stain all over John B’s seat.” You cry out, your orgasm at its peak but JJ doesn’t stop, his cock and words touching you so deep.

“You wanna be my good girl in front of everyone else but my whore when I fuck you? Because I’m gonna keep fucking you. This isn’t over between us.” His hand covers your mouth just as you suck in a deep breath to scream, your orgasm washing over you from the inside out. He moves faster, the van rocking as he delivers brutal thrusts to your soaked pussy. You become nothing but skin on skin, breath against breath as he fucks you through your high.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl. You came so hard for me.” JJ removes his hand as the orgasm leaves you fatigued and breathless. He kisses you once before pulling back, teeth bared.

“Finish me with your mouth. I want to cum down your throat.” JJ snarls. You don’t get another moment before he’s pulling back, dropping down on the seat and dragging you over by the back of your neck. You don’t hesitate in swallowing him to the back of your throat the best you can, bobbing your head faster when you hear his loud pornographic moan with his hands knotted in your hair.

“Fuck, just like that. That’s my girl.” JJ groans, jutting his hips up into your mouth as he releases his salty substance down your throat. You swallow the best you can around his girth and he moans louder, your pussy clenching around nothing. You keep sucking until he’s trembling and pulling you away, his eyes almost begging you to stop from being overly sensitive while you lick your lips clean.

“Jesus, you’re gonna suck my soul out of me.” JJ rasps, pulling you onto his lap and kissing you hungrily despite the taste of his cum on your tongue. You giggle, your arms around his neck as you make out more.

“That was incredible.” You whisper, swiping the blonde hair off his forehead.

“I agree. I could go for round two. I’ve wanted you for too long to take my hands off you now.” He smacks your ass to get his point across then grinds his still hard cock along your thigh.

“Then fuck me, J. I want you to use me however you want. I’m yours.”

[kisses4kaia]

please i am on my knees begging for billy…you write him so well…

yes baby whatever you want—implication oral sex (f recieving) but no real smut i fear :((, very very very slight internalized misogyny (r is just jealous), billy being a cocky dick (the best kind)

billy was yours and that was that.

with that damn leash you kept on him, it was never questioned why billy never went home with any girls at the saloon after a game of poker, whether he won or lost. because as probable as it was the sun would come up the next day, it was just as likely it would be you he’d lay in bed next to, fucking you with just about as much passion as he would have exerted in a goddamn battlefield.

you never had to worry about him straying, because you knew you had him and nobody could ever replace what you give him in a lover, but that never meant his born reckless soul wasn’t going to push boundaries.

she had painted fingernails, corset cinched to the maximum degree of discomfort, and a flawless, straight-like-a-ruler, smile. she came from money and her name was something like margaret, or margaux—something french, probably. she was classy and beautiful and not billy’s type. you could have laughed when you saw her saunter over to billy’s barstool.

before looking at her, he paid her no mind, listening to her talk about how lonely he looked on a beautiful evening like this one, and how he doesn’t look like he belongs here. the same tired lines every girl used every time, and he probably would have shooed her away if his eyes hadn’t landed on the daggers you shot at her with your shattering gaze.

his smirk was quick to make itself known, letting his eyes run over her body as he straightened his posture. you couldn’t exactly hear what was being discussed over the conversation buzz swallowing the sound scape. you did, however, hear margaret/margaux laugh, so trained, so light and airy and feminine and infuriating. you didn’t grow up in a country house or paint your nails, the different appropriate kinds of laughters were never discerned in your taught etiquette.

nothing about you was light or airy or feminine and here billy was, flirting with those very things personified like you didn’t have him pleading with you to stop cumming less than 24 hours ago. you were probably steaming at the ears at this point.

abandoning the dull conversation surrounding the upcoming horse races with a friendly barkeep, you put one cowgirl boot in front of the other as you blaze over to billy. “come on, we’re leaving.” you say jaggedly, hardly sparing margaret/margaux a single glance.

“is this your friend?” she asks with a tone so sweet and pitchy it almost makes your eye twitch.

“yes.”

“no.”

the woman looked simply confused at your contrasting answers and quite politely excused herself as your eyes yielded a dangerous hail down onto him. he sighed, taking his time as he finished his drink—rising from his barstool, paying the barkeep, grabbing his hat and jacket—and finally walking out of the saloon with you.

as soon as the door shut to billy’s current homestead you shared, you stomped in silence to the bedroom. “where you going, baby?” he called out, not wincing, and pushing past the nearly slammed door after you. he enters to see you pacing, practically fuming.

“what’s wrong, darlin’?” he approached you and uncrossed your arms, looking down at you as if you were wounded. you hated these stares of him because it was so hearty and intense and all about you.

“you were practically sticking your dick in her! that lady, the one who obviously wanted you to take her out back,” you spit out all at once. your language was often crude, but it never made billy wince the way it made other men react. billy just smiled as though he pitied you, kissing the top of your head. you forced your arms to sides as he wrapped his around you. “you jealous?” he laughed after pulling you away from his chest and looking back down at you again.

you rolled your eyes, scoffing and tearing yourself out of his hold, walking away from him. your arms crossed in front of your chest. “i am not jealous, i am simply… perplexed.”

this seemed to amuse him. “uh huh. well, you don’t got anythin’ to worry about, baby. dontch’ya know i’m crazy about you?” his drawl drew you towards him again. his eyes were glimmering with honesty, soothing your jealousy slightly.

“you sure?” you said with a slight pout as billy pulls you in once more.

“need me to prove it to you?” the ask wasn’t posed so much as a question as a request as he sunk down slowly onto his knees in front of you. you laughed, nodding eagerly as you helped him unbutton your denim.

[mbirnsings-71]

i am but a little guy on ur door step

pls spare some bernard hcs??? any

stares @ u,,,,,,,,,,

OKAY OKAY OKAY- So these are just very Generic Bernard headcannons I have in my notes okay okay-

(Headcannons under the cut)

- Is a mix of Irish, Greek, and Italian (Mother is probably Italian, His dad is Greek and Irish in my head)

- Despite that he doesn't speak any of the languages but has been wanting to try learning some of them, just college is a very busy time for him and he is tired man. Such a tired double major college student

- this being said He does love looking up pet names in those languages and Calling Tim them to which Tim calls him Cheesy as if Tim isn't also a cheesy guy as well

- Can ice skate actually really well due to going on yearly ice skating trips with his parents since he was young, like at least since he was eight.

- Due to the fact that he's estranged from his parents despite still wanting a relationship with them but they don't reach out and basically ignore him due to his sexuality and not living up to their expectations, he has tried getting Tim to go on ice skating dates with him and Tim is more than happy to go Even though Tim is more a skateboarder than an Ice skater.

- His love of cooking came from his mom when he was younger because he loved helping her out in ways that he could in the kitchen as a kid. He loves making recipes he learned from his mom for Tim but it's also very bittersweet cause of that factor but at least Tim loves his cooking so it's a win. That being said he also loves learning new recipes online and has a folder of bookmarks saved of one's he wants to attempt to make.

- Biggest Physical affection lover and gives it so freely, Has turned Tim to the side of Cuddles being a must for sleeping

- Audhd haver because If I like a Neurotypical character assume that means they either have a really compelling story or I've just been replaced by a clone!!

- Favorite colors are Yellow and Green but Green it specifically has to be more on the yellow side. He just likes it okay okay-

- My headcannon for him realizing he like guys was He started feeling romantic feelings for Tim while he was in Louis E. Grieves but didn't have a name for the feelings til Losing connection with Tim and so he had to struggle with that for a bit-

- Loves being a provider, it's part of the reason he likes cooking because he can make food for his friends and make sure they eat- even if he can't make food for them he will always make sure to be able to get food for his friends (Read that Tim Drake Robin panel where Bernard brings Tim burgers while Tim is trying to crack the case like my god that man loves Tim-)

- my personal favorite headcannon is that Bernard realized either as Tim saved him from the cult that Tim was Robin like Bernard's not dumb!! He has eyes and has been crushing on both Timothy Drake and your alter ego for a Hot minute he can puts the dots together man!

- As much as he is a Mothman lover, Batman and The Jersey Devil is what sparked his interest in Cryptids. Batman is explainable but also so mysterious and no one knows what his deal is besides saving Gotham from crime, The Jersey Devil however Bernard wants to know about because IT'S THE JERSEY DEVIL HELLO???

[lordfreg]

IM SHAKESPEAR

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐱 𝐘/𝐍˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

To My Love,

to describe you is like trying to describe the morbid beauty of a wilted flower.

you are the definition of beautiful.

so many times, i have imagined myself taking your hand into mine, holding it to my chest as we share a delightful day of simply each other.

oh, but to graze your hand would be to graze beauty itself, and i would be surprised if God himself did not strike me dead for touching such a perfect creature.

your skin is not pure, but instead decorated with the battles you've won, the result of pain and love, the sweat of your brow and the injuries you've sustained being quick-witted and clever.

God took his time making the patterns of you skin, every inch of flesh unique to anything i've ever seen.

your mind is more bright then the stars in the sky, and your eyes shine brighter then any ball of plasma the universe can make.

i lust for your soul, your whole being.

i want nothing more then to simply exist by you, in your life.

to only hold you in my arms, and kiss you breathless, and show you truly how much you mean to me.

no matter how much i try, i'll never be able to replace the way you stick in my mind, like our are souls intertwined as our hands should be.

how could i have fallen for such a beautiful mind? it makes me infuriated how we could never be together.

i am forever dammed to longing for more, for the love you've always given others, for the hope that one day we could be more.

more then friends, more then lovers, simply above a level of describable love.

the universe molded us together, to simply be each others everything.

destined to meet, destined to fall in love.

how could we never not be each others everything?

how could we go so long, in complete unison, not knowing the fate that is destined for us?

we were made from the same star dust that formed our beings, and the universe knew, the moment we were born, we were made for each other.

i could go on forever, my dearest, about how the milky way itself cannot contain my love for you, but, i must cut it short.

so many things about you fascinate me, so much so that i must have you by my side forever...

so, my love...

will you marry me?

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

@hypocriticaltypwriter CHERRRYYYYYYYYYYYYYY, SOBBING BECAUSE THIS IS HOW DONNIE PROPOSED tO Y/N GRGGDUGAWUYGOWEGUWEGAUOEWF

i just thought of it randomly and i fell in love (obvi) but i had a whole like 30 minute poem to write and FORGOT most of it so wAAHGG!!!!

no idea when this takes place, like maybe in the 13th century??? maybe donnie is like a inventor/black smith but secretly a poet??? idk im so tired sdugdsbevh

thank you @yourlocalartsonist for the 'poetic rizz' idea :smirk_cat:

[itsbackwoodsbby]

please write more haechan smut 🙏

Response: did you really enjoy that haechan smut pookie? as i stated before, i am not a hyuck girl, so i hope that i am doing a good job in writing for him. anywho, i hope that you all enjoy this.

Private Lovers

Highschool Haechan! x Highschool Black Fem Reader!

(A/N: Can you believe we are actually using protection this time? I can’t either.)

Warning: Smut! Swearing! Arguing!

Summary: You and Hyuck have been together for a hot minute, like five months, but no one knows. It’s not because of school social groups or anything. You two hang with the same group of people. You two would just rather not have other people in your business. people can be rude and judgmental. But one day at school, this girl that you particularly disliked starts talking to Hyuck and you see how close they got. You didn't like it. Not one bit.

You slowly walked out of Chemistry and headed to your locker. You hate your next class. You sigh as you replace your Chemistry textbook with your Calculus textbook. Your best friend, Gia, comes up to you. 

“Hey Y/N. Are you ready to see your grade on the Calculus test?” She asks you. “No, Gi. I’m not.” You sigh and lean on your locker. 

Gia, opposite from you, loves Calculus. She offers that every time you slightly pass your test could she tutor you, but you politely decline. You’re still an A student, so you don’t care about the class too much. However, you think this test probably fucked that A you had up. It was super hard, but instead of studying and getting Gia to help you, you want to hang out with your boyfriend, Hyuck, and do … dirty things. 

So when you walked into Calculus and saw your paper flipped over, you already knew the deal. You face palmed grabbed the paper and flipped it over. You damn near faint when you see that 54 in a circle with red ink. Luckily, Gia is there to catch you if you were to fall, but when she saw your grade she almost fell out too. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. We got a few more tests before the final.” Gia says, trying to cheer you up, but the feeling you had wasn’t so great and it was hard to shake off. “Hey, I’ll even tutor if you’re okay with it.” She says making you smile. “Yeah. I’m definitely taking that tutor session.”

You two laugh and you learn some new things in Calculus. You make sure you have your notes in order, so you can try to teach yourself as well as learn from Gia. After all that, you were extremely tired. Your hand was cramping trying to write all the notes in and to make matters worse, your Calculus teacher gave you HOMEWORK. As soon as the bell rings, you’re the first thing out the door. You put your Calculus book into your bookbag and head back to your locker to get your History book.

“Aw, look at Hyuck with Jasmine.” Gia says, “As much as I hate the girl, Hyuck and her look so cute together.” She adds in.

You look at them together. Jasmine was playing in Hyuck’s hair and playing with his adorable moles. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t tell her to move. He just let her do it like you weren’t his girlfriend. 

“No, they wouldn’t.” Your voice cracked as soon as that new attitude came in. “He would look better with someone.” You roll your eyes at the statement. She just laughs, “It’s just because you don’t like her. I don’t blame you though. I don’t like the hoe either. But you can’t deny the truth.” She smiles at them. 

Jasmine starts giggling at something Hyuck says and she touches his nose. You slam your locker close and head to your History class without saying goodbye to Gia. History was your favorite subject, but between failing your test and your boyfriend being that close with that ska-girl Jasmine, you honestly just wanted to go home. So when there were five minutes left in class. You excuse yourself to the bathroom. The teacher just tells you to take your stuff with you. You just rush out the door, go to your car and drive home. You usually would meet up with Hyuck, but he pissed you off so bad, you didn’t even reply to his text messages. 

As soon as you arrive home, you go into your room and start your Calculus homework. You put on your hype playlist and blast it. You honestly didn’t care if it was too loud, you just wanted to block out the world as you did your work. Your homework was pretty easy to follow with the notes, so you finished pretty quickly and looked at your phone. You had messages from Gia and Hyuck.

You roll your eyes at Hyuck’s messages and reply back to Gia:

“hey, gia. i’m not upset at you for saying that. i’m so sorry i stormed off on you like that.”

You two text for a moment and then you tell her you’re about to shower and to give you a few minutes. You go shower, lotion up, and put on this. Your tummy growls and you start looking around for food in the fridge. There’s a fruit plate with a note from your mom.

“Hey Stinkabutt. I got your favorite fruits and there is some cheese if you want to feel like the boujee child of mine you are. I love you. I’ll be home in the morning. I have to work double. P.S. If you get hungry, just call me and I’ll bring you something to eat.” 

You smile. You don’t have to worry about your mom getting off tonight asking you about how your day was because you honestly don’t want to utter anything about today to anyone. Including your mom, who would completely flip out about the 54 on your test. So you decided to rest. You head to your room, eat your fruit plate, and drink some water.

Around four something, there’s a knock on the front door. You groan. “Who the fuck is the door?” You thought to yourself. Slowly trudging down the stairs, you eventually make it to the door. 

“Who is it?” You ask. “It’s me.” The voice says. You roll your eyes. The voice sounds too familiar for you not to know that it’s Hyuck on the other side of the door. “Why are you here?” You say coldly, as you open the door. “Because it’s four-thirty and my girlfriend still hasn’t talked to me. I texted you at two-fifty five.” You shrug, “And?” Hyuck is upset by your cold responses to him. “Y/N, can I at least come in?”

You look at him like he’s crazy. You didn’t want to talk to him let alone sit in the same room as him. You let him in anyway and the two of you sit on the couch. Just not talking. Or you just avoiding Hyuck’s question: “Are you mad at me?” The more he asked the question, the more your facial expressions were getting more intense.

Eventually, you just blow up, “Yes. Yes, Hyuck! I am mad at you. Because you want to be all up in other bitches faces and let them touch your face.” He looks at you confused, “Who was in my face today?” You look at him, “Jasmine.” Then he sits there and looks at you like you’re stupid. “You know I wouldn’t fuck with Jasmine. She likes everyone at the school.” He says. “I don’t know. You surely let the bitch touch your moles and touch your nose. She was ALL up on you and you didn’t move. You didn’t tell her to move. You didn’t say “Please do not touch your hair.” No, you just let the bitch do it.” He shakes his head, “You’re being childish.”

You look at Hyuck in disbelief. How are you being childish? This is seriously something to be mad about. Hyuck is too friendly and thinks every interaction with a girl is so innocent, so you just start being quiet to avoid getting mad at him even more. 

“Can you just please get out of my house?” You attempt to say in a calm voice. “I don’t even want to talk to you anymore.” You sigh and stand up to walk him out of your house. “No. We’re going to talk this shit out.” He looks at you and pulls you onto his lap and wraps his arms around your waist. He starts rocking you. It soothes you a bit.

“Now, Y/N tell me what’s wrong?” He asks you. “I told you, you were too close to Jasmine.” You close your eyes and sigh. “You didn’t even check on me after Calculus like you usually do. You were instantly in Jasmine's face as soon as it ended. And I failed my test. I made a 54. My grade dropped. Now, I have to really pay attention in that class.” Hyuck frowns, “Oh. I’m so sorry baby.” He says pecking your neck. “Then, Gia said that you and Jasmine would be a cute couple, but you’re already MY boyfriend.” You finally decompress into Hyuck’s body. “Today was just ass and tiring.”

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

Hyuck decided to make your day better, divide your legs apart, and start eating you out. His face was completely covered in your juices. You arch your lower half up on his face. “Yes, yes. Hyuck!” You moan out. He looks up at you and slides a finger up and down your clit before he puts it inside you. You down at him as he begins pumping faster, “You like that, baby girl?” He asks you. “Oou, yes! Yess, Hyuck.” You moan out. He adds another and starts sucking on your clit. You gasp throw your head back and look at the ceiling. He pulls your lower half up closer to his face and starts gripping your thighs. “Fuck! Fuck! Baby, I’m going to cum.” 

Hyuck smiles as he continues his job. You cum in his mouth and slowly lower your body back on the bed. You close your eyes and try to regain normal thoughts in your head. As you are coming down from your climax, Hyuck has been putting on a condom, and the whole time you didn’t know. He rubs your clit with his thumb, getting you even wetter. You bite your lips and smile. “What are you doing, Hyuck?” You ask him with your eyes still closed. “Just relax baby.” He smiles and kisses you.

As he’s kissing you, he gently slides his dick into your pussy making you moan into the kiss. He didn’t put all of it in you. Instead, he was giving you slow strokes inch by inch. With every inch, he speeds it up. You wrap your arms around him and kiss him again to keep from moaning too much, but he shakes his head, “Baby, let me hear my pretty little slut.” He says as he goes deeper inside of you. “Ouu shit! Fuck, baby.”

By the time it was fully in, your legs were shaking and you were clawing his back up with your nails. Tears were streaming down your face and you couldn’t form a full sentence because you’d lost all sense. “Mm, is my little slut okay?” He asks you with a cheeky smirk on his face. You moan, “Yess! Yess!” You grip deeper in his back. Hyuck begins to rub on your clit. You start clenching around him. The closer you get to your climax, the more your walls tighten around him. “Baby, baby, I’m coming again. I’m coming again.” Hyuck smirks at you, “Nah, I need my pretty slut to cum when I cum.” 

You look up at him and you start whining and begging for him to let you cum. “Please, Hyuck. Let me cum now. Please please.” You see that he loves hearing you begging, but he doesn’t care. He wants you to hold it until he cum. “Oouuu, fuck fuck fuck!” You moan out and cover your face as you start shaking intensely trying to hold it. He smiles, “You’re such a good girl, mamas.” He uncovers your face, “Don’t hide that pretty little face from me. You are so sexy, folding for this dick.” 

Hyuck bends down and kisses your neck. You begin to have an intense tingling sensation as he hits your spot one good time. “Hyuck, shit. Right there. Right there.” He hits it again slowly yet so hard. “Right there, baby?” He teases you. “Yes! Yes baby, right there.” You damn near cry out. He starts abusing that spot. “Mm, shit. Baby, do you forgive me for my actions today?” Hyuck groans in your ear. You refuse to answer him, so he gives long slow strokes that have a whole lot of power behind them, “I said do you forgive me for my actions today.” He repeats and wraps his hand around your neck. “Yes, Hyuck. Yes. I forgive you.” You whine out, loving every moment of this. He resumes abusing your spot. 

As you were clenching around him, you felt his member throbbing. “Mm, Y/N. Cum with me.” He groans in your ear. “Cum on my dick, baby girl.” His words sent a shiver down your spine. You start shaking intensely and scream a bit as you let go of your cum and he cums as well. 

He lays on top of you for a moment with his dick still in you. His nut was just as intense as yours. A few moments later, he pulls out and lays beside you, and looks at you. You look back at him and smile. He smiles at you.

“I know sex isn’t really a way to make up things, but I just wanted you to relax and get things off your mind. But I promise you don’t have to worry about me and any other that is not Y/N Y/L/N. Cause I’m so in love with you. I don’t want anyone else. Just you.” You smile and kiss his cheek. “And with a pussy like that, you definitely ain’t gotta worry about me leaving you.” He jokingly says. You playfully hit his arm. “Hyuck!” He laughs, “I’m joking but I’m for real.” 

The two of you take a shower, get dressed, and watch movies together. You call your mom and you get her to order you guys a pizza. One side had pineapples on it for Hyuck and a regular pepperoni pizza for you on the other side.

[straightupsickfics]

best friends, ex-friends til the end | royjamie

(better off as lovers)

this is definitely something that i wrote to get out of my own head after thinking about it literally since the show ended.. but maybe someone else will enjoy a little (~2.1k words) sick jamie + reluctantly caring roy kent <3

Sicktember Prompt #2: “What happened to your phenomenal immune system, huh?”

Jamie really doesn’t think anything of it when most of the lads (...and Ted, Trent, Rebecca, and Higgins) are all out with some kind of mysterious cold throughout the early fall. He felt bad for them, yeah, course, offered to bring Colin and Isaac and Dani soup, even. But it didn’t occur to him that he should be, like, “worried about germs,” or whatever. 

Jamie Tartt never gets sick. 

Like, ever. 

He has an unbeatable immune system, and, according to his mum, he always has. Not that any of his ill teammates seem particularly interested in hearing about that particular fact when he shares it on one of his soup drop offs. Isaac had actually told him to “fuck off outta here with that gloating,” while Colin cough-laughed beside him. 

Well, fine. Jamie knows when he isn’t wanted. He leaves, confident they’d be fine in a few days, no doubt thanks to the soup he’d left them. Then, they can all make their way back to normal on the pitch. The whole dynamic’s been off for weeks with everyone being taken out one by one by this thing, and Jamie’s getting sick of it. He needs everyone there to really dominate the way he’s used to, even if it means he has be “a bit of a fucking prick about it.” (Roy’s words). 

It turns out, all of that ass crack of dawn training is paying off after all. Like, really paying off — Jamie is better and faster than ever now, all thanks to his supreme commitment to the game, and his unmatched talent. 

And Roy’s training. 

Okay, mostly Roy’s training, but he wouldn’t be admitting that much out loud without more than a few pints in him. And since Roy isn’t letting him drink at the moment, Jamie figures he’s in the clear. 

So, yeah, Jamie Tartt’s life is fucking mint as of late. 

Now, leaving Isaac and Colin’s, he looks down at his phone and finds a message from Roy himself, think of the devil. 

Granddad: McAdoo just said you’d been by… WTF are you thinking?? You want to lose a week with whatever fucking bubonic plague’s going around the club???

Jamie: Christ, do you get tired of yelling at me, old man? It’s FINE. Jamie Tartt don’t CATCH the plague 

Granddad: 🙄 If you say so, but don’t come crying to me when you’re laid up in bed you absolute muppet. Get some sleep, I’ll see you at 4:00 AM. 

Jamie: Be there with bells on ♥️

*

The next few days go by in a blur of training, post-training FIFA with Roy, and sleep. He’s been feeling knocked on his ass every night this week, overtired and exhausted in a way he usually isn’t, thanks to Roy’s brutal workout regime, but he can hardly complain with the way he’s been playing. He’s been getting home late most nights, too, always a little reluctant to leave Roy’s and go home to his own empty flat. 

It’s not like Roy seems to mind either, though. He’s been making them dinners almost every night, after all. Or, well, he makes dinner and sets out two plates and doesn’t tell Jamie to get lost, which is basically the same thing, right? It’s nice, having some company. Having Roy for company, has become something he never knew he needed. 

Or maybe he just never let himself even think about asking for it. 

After one such night, Jamie showers and climbs into his bed (empty, always empty, these days, something a former version of himself would never believe let alone enjoy). He thinks about Roy. Thinks, tiredly, how nice it might be if Roy were here now, and then shakes the thought away. Since when does he think about Roy Kent in bed? 

(Since always, he’s had a poster of him over his bed since he was thirteen.) 

Thoughts of Roy are replaced with thoughts about water. His throat’s been dry all day, and a glass of water sounds killer right now, but Jamie’s asleep before he can do anything about it. 

*

Jamie wakes up to something jackhammering. 

No, not jackhammering. It’s his phone, vibrating on his nightstand. 

Fuck, why is it so loud? He pulls himself up to look at it, but he feels like he’s been him by a ton of bricks. Bad idea. He feels like utter shite if he’s honest, like he got hit by a truck in his sleep. His head’s pounding, for one thing, he can’t even think straight, and the dry, scratchy throat from last night has grown into a monster of a sore throat. Plus, he feels sweaty all over. 

Shit.

Roy was going to kill him. 

Shit. Roy. Their training. It’s that thought that gets Jamie into an upright position, at least enough so that he can grab his phone before laying back down with it. There are five missed calls from Granddad, and a handful of texts and other notifications that Jamie ignores for now. 

Somewhere in his scrolling, it hits Jamie that the sun is coming in through his window. It’s almost 8:00 in the morning, and he’s completely missed their training. He’d slept through his alarm, missing the training with Roy, and, judging by how entirely fucked he feels, would likely miss the team training today, too. 

Jamie swallows and winces. His throat feels like he’s swallowing burning knives, but he calls Roy back anyway. 

Roy answers on the first ring, and by some act of Jesus Christ himself, doesn’t sound pissed off. 

“What the fuck, Tartt, are you alright” 

No, he definitely doesn’t sound mad, he sounds… concerned. 

“Mm? Yeah, grand.” Jamie tries to sound relaxed, but his voice sounds awful, hoarse and gravelly and blurred with congestion. 

“Fuuuuck,” is all Roy says for a minute. Then: “Let me in, I’m outside.” 

*

“So, what happened to your phenomenal immune system, huh?” Roy says when Jamie finally makes his way to the front door and lets him in. 

Jamie tries to roll his eyes, but even that hurts his head. “First time for everything, yeah? What’re you doin’ here?” 

“You didn’t show up for almost four hours!” Roy explodes. “You weren’t answering your phone, no one had heard from you, I was—” Roy stops himself, looking at Jamie and then away, suddenly finding the cars in the driveway extremely interesting. 

“Aw, you were worried about me,” Jamie supplies. It would be much better if he could actually enjoy this moment, but as it is he feels like he could collapse at any moment, so he holds onto the cool granite of his kitchen island. 

“Fuck off,” Roy growls. 

“You came to me in me hour of need,” Jamie says, then turns to the side and coughs, ruining the moment. 

“To be fair I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere, had to make sure I didn’t need to see about finding a replacement.” 

“I’m irreplaceable, hello? There’s no replacing an icon.” Not that he feels like much of an icon now, with his nose starting to run and an annoying itch starting to form somewhere behind his sinuses. He scrubs a hand over his face, wishing Roy was here in his flat on literally any other morning. 

“Muppet,” Roy says, shaking his head and studying him in a way that always makes Jamie feel all squirmy inside. 

“S-shit, gimme me a second,” Jamie says, breath catching as he turns away and sneezes four times in quick succession. “Hh’itsh! Hpt-ISH! Uh-hu’ishhiew! IshhIEW!” 

“Were those sneezes? Y’sound like Phoebe’s cat when she sneezes.” 

Jamie just groans, turns around, and flops onto the couch. He doesn’t even have the energy to argue with Roy, and he loves arguing with Roy. 

“Bless you, by the way,” Roy says, voice just marginally softer as he follows Jamie to the living room. 

“Sorry I missed training,” Jamie says, voice half lost to the pillow he’s currently trying to disappear into. “Y’can find a new way to punish me for it next week, m’sure.” 

Roy’s quiet for a minute. “Think you get a pass. Team spirit, lookin’ out for the lads when they needed it and all.” 

Jamie lifts his head up, arches an eyebrow. “Thought you said don’t come cryin’ to ya?”

“I came to you, didn’t I?” 

“‘Cause you were worried about me,” Jamie says, smiling despite how bad, well, everything feels just now. 

Roy’s here. Jamie’s flat feels warmer with another person here, which helps, since he’s freezing on top of everything else. 

“Do you have any tea in this place?” Is all Roy says in reply. He’s already back in the kitchen, navigating around Jamie’s cupboards like he lives there, and Jamie’s thinking how nice it all is when he falls asleep again, right there on the couch. 

*

When he wakes up again, Roy is still there, Jamie’s feet in his lap, and it’s much later in the day, he can tell immediately. He must be so sick he’s hallucinating, because there’s no way Roy Kent came over to watch him sleep, covered him with a blanket, and is watching You’ve Got Mail on his TV. 

“Ah, you’re alive. I was starting to think I should call someone,” Roy says when Jamie stirs. “You look like shit. Take that,” Roy continues, pointing to a bottle of something and a glass of water on the coffee table. 

Jamie feels, impossibly, worse than he had this morning, his head feels like it weighs about a million pounds. He doesn’t argue, just swallows the medicine and water and grimaces at Roy.

“Didn’t have to stay here,” Jamie says. His voice is wrecked. 

“Fuck, you sound fucking awful,” Roy says, his hand on Jamie’s ankle — how long had that been there? He moves his thumb up and back absentmindedly, and suddenly it’s all Jamie can focus on. 

What is happening?

“Well, never drank that tea you were on about earlier,” Jamie says.

Roy nods. “Never do want to listen to me,” he says, but his voice is different now, softer. Kinder. Fonder.

“Took the liberty of ordering a takeaway, should be here soon. Soup for you,” Roy says. His hand is still there, warm on Jamie’s ankle. 

“huh-IItshh! IishhIEW!” The sneezes catch Jamie completely off guard, shivering out of him before he can do anything but lean into it. “Sorry,” he mutters, sniffling. He looks pathetic, he knows that, and he’s torn between elation that Roy’s here and complete humiliation. “You’ll be down with this next,” he warns.

“Bless you. Y’really do sneeze like a cat, Tartt.” 

Jamie’s laugh turns into another coughing fit, and when Roy leans up to rub his back, he decides that happiness wins out over embarrassment. 

They’re side by side now, closer than they’d usually sit for FIFA, though not by much. They’d been getting closer in just about every way these last few months, and Jamie realizes he’d like nothing more than to lean into it. Let Roy deal with all of it in that growly, take-charge way he has about everything else. He’d feel better soon if Roy said so, right? 

“Food should be here soon, if you want to close your eyes for a few more minutes. This prick hasn’t put Meg Ryan out of business yet, so…” Roy trails off, eyes trained on the screen rather than Jamie, who nods. His eyes and head are still so heavy. 

Daring a look at Roy out of the corner of his eye, Jamie lets his head rest on his shoulder, sniffling into the soft fabric of Roy’s ubiquitous black t-shirt and yawning. He could get used to this, if he let himself. Whatever this is…

“You’re thinking really fucking loudly,” Roy says, voice impossibly close to his ear. He doesn’t sound mad about it, though, more like amused. Jamie’s still half convinced he’s dreaming this entire day. Jamie Tartt doesn’t get sick, for one thing, and Roy Kent doesn’t play nurse with his players. “Close your eyes.”

“Fine, but only to stop your yelling, Granddad,” Jamie says with another yawn. He doesn’t lift his head from Roy’s shoulder, and Roy doesn’t say anything else, just turns his attention back to the movie.

Jamie’s ninety-nine percent asleep when he feels it, the faintest, softest brush of lips against his sweaty forehead. 

Maybe this is something after all. 

Maybe Roy Kent does play nurse when it matters. 

And maybe Jamie Tartt does get sick, though he decides then and there that it’s not too bad if this is what he gets in return. Pretty fucking mint, in fact. 

[yesttoheaven]

SETTING SUN - joel miller x f!reader

"setting sun" describes the brooding and possessive thoughts of a man who is angered by his lover, a girl who is spending time with a boy she calls her friend. he is sickened by her perceived lies and says "the time to forgive is gone" as he believes she is cheating on him. the man ends the song with the ambiguous line "I'll be taking a life this evening when the sun sets" - it is not clear if he intends to kill the girl he is singing about, her friend, or perhaps himself.

— Do you know the best part of being here with you? And I'm not just talking about the sex... – Joel says, his voice low and husky as you trace patterns on his chest; the tips of your fingers sending shivers wherever they go. — I'll wake up tomorrow and look at you to admire your raw beauty in your most delicate and fragile state, and think to myself how much I love you. Because God... I really do. – He closes his eyes, letting out a long sigh.

You just absorb his words in silence for a long, long moment before resting your chin on his chest lightly and licking your lips, ready to say something, but then his eyes are open again and meet yours. For years he'd looked into those same doe eyes and found nothing but love, but now that's gone. Love evaporated from your pupils and was replaced, taken by someone else and he hates every second of it.

— You know what I admire? The fact you could take me as I am. You learned to deal with my bullshit. And sometimes I wonder how someone like me can deserve someone like you... I wonder because I'm this mess of a human being, and you're this beautiful person with this lovely smile and a million of unravel stories while I'm just this closed book you decided to open and discover.

— Joel, why did you...

— Hear me out now, you're gonna listen to me, like it or not. – He snarls, his face lined with disappointment and anger, but he never pulls away from you. He keeps his arm wrapped around your lower back, trapping your naked body against his. His other hand then comes up to your cheek, the rough tips of his fingers stroking your skin so tenderly. You were always the softness that Joel sought so much in this broken world. And you have him, heart and soul. — I knew that you were going to leave one day, but I thought I could make you stay... You were the one that told me to live in the moment, and I guess that I was trying to do just that. I didn't want to think about the end.

— There's no "ending" happening, Joel. – You leave the comfort of his arms and sit up in bed, your firm, stern voice echoing through the bedroom.

— I just wanted to think about what was actually in front of me. – He admits, looking at your bare back before running his hand down your spine, loving the way you squirm under his touch. — And you're in front of me right now, but not completely...

— How many times am I going to have to tell you that Richard is nothing but a friend or even less? I go on patrol with him sometimes. That's all.

Something snapped inside him. Hearing the other man's name leaving your mouth seems too much for Joel to handle, so he grips your jaw, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he brings your face close to his, your noses almost touching. You fall silent, caught off guard by his change in demeanor, but you still hold his gaze.

— Don't you dare lie to me. – He hisses through clenched teeth, looking deep into your eyes. Every frown line, every scar on his tired face seems all the more prominent because of the rage that consumes him. — After all we've been through, will you throw away what we've built? If that's what you really want, well then answer me darlin'... Would he face a damn bloater with his bare hands just to protect you? Is he ready to die for you?

At first you didn't know how to react, so you remained motionless and still, only an involuntary sigh leaving your lips. In this godforsaken world, you could easily count on your fingers how many people would put their lives on the line for you. And Joel Miller tops that list. Even knowing that you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, at the slightest sign of danger, he will always, without hesitation, do everything possible and impossible to keep you safe. This also includes fighting a bloater.

However, Richard would never put himself in the danger zone that way.

As if he can read your mind, Joel releases your face and looks away. He's losing you, he can feel you slipping out of his fingers, like a small bird being caught up in the wind. He tries to speak but no words will come. He wants to tell you that he still loves you, that you two can still make it work, but how can he say those things when the trust is so shaken? Does you even care anymore?

Maybe it's all too late.

His eyes narrow and he scowls, looking down at the bed in frustration as he tries to hold his annoyance in. When he speaks again, his voice is cold and bitter, and he looks up at you disdainfully:

— Have I been that terrible to you the last few years and you're finally ready to start looking elsewhere?

— No... – You mutter under your breath, then you clear your throat and shake your head eagerly, repeating with more intensity: — No, of course not. Where does all this distrust come from, Joel?

— From the fact that you don't seem to love me anymore! There is an age difference between us, it's true, and that does make things more complicated. But that's not the whole story and you know it. The way you talk to him... It's the way you used to talk to me. And you never act that way towards me anymore. You used to be so loving, so affectionate, but now I feel like you've pulled back. Like I'm just another person to you. – There is a pain in his voice unlike any you've ever heard come from him before, and it's painfully obvious that he's hurt to his very core. — I'm getting old, and I'm jealous. I worry that I can't make you feel the way you deserve to feel... – His voice catches in his throat a little. Joel sighs, and there is a look of shame on his face now, as if he knows what he's thinking is irrational, and he's embarrassed about it.

— So the problem is that I'm talking to a guy a few years younger than you? You can't be serious!

— Oh, so I'm just imagining it then? – He rolls his eyes and sighs loudly. — What do you expect me to think when you're practically flirting with a man half my age? What am I supposed to think when you act like you hardly even care about me?

That was enough.

You had listened and listened. He spoke and poured out his heart. His accusations.

In one swift movement you got out from under the sheet and climbed into his lap. Your hands touched his bare chest, harder this time, as you pushed his back against the headboard. A look of surprise passes over Joel's face when you do that. He stares at you, drinking in the intensity of your gaze and the warmth of your body against his. Your bare skin in full view now.

— You speak with such confidence. And you accuse me with that same confidence. – You lean in close to him and puts your nose to his ear, breathing lightly and softly whispering the last part. — Now that we're in Jackson, I know, I have a wide range of options, but... If I wanted to be with Richard then I wouldn't be here with you right now. I wouldn't go back to your arms every single night. And I wouldn't let you fuck me any way you want.

He sighs and closes his eyes, thinking carefully about the words that left your mouth. After a minute or two, he opens his eyes and looks at you sternly, and his hands move up to your hips, squeezing your flesh, feeling you. His gaze moved down your body, admiring every single curve, always enthralled by your raw beauty, until he found the watch on your wrist. A ghost of a smile crossed his lips at that moment. Joel never imagined taking that watch off his wrist one day, but he had his reasons for doing so. Whenever you were out on patrol without him by your side, Joel would put the watch on your wrist. That watch kept him alive for so long. Now he would be keeping you alive for him whenever he couldn't be there for you.

He holds you close in an embrace that is part affectionate and part desperate: almost as if he is afraid that you will suddenly disappear from his arms. He holds you close, and you can feel his chest rise and fall with deep, slow breaths. Joel slowly leans forward and brings his mouth to yours in a passionate kiss. His lips are firm and warm, and the pressure of his lips against yours is urgent and hungry. The kiss lasts for a long moment, and as he pulls away he looks at you with wide, haunted eyes. There is an ache in his chest, and a deep and desperate hope behind his eyes. You can sense the intensity of his emotions, all compressed into the brief moment that you two shared. Joel feels this heat in you, and he feels his heartbeat quicken once more.

He wants more.

But more of what? More of your love? More of your kisses? More of the way you make him feel? His body aches just from the feeling of you in his arms. He craves your touch, your warmth. His love for you feels like fire, burning hot from within him. He is overwhelmed.

— I don't know where I'm supposed to start, but... I'm sorry for the way I acted, hun.

Joel is all you have in this godforsaken world. Living in Jackson with him and Ellie is almost like a dream. So you really hope he's telling the truth and that from now on things will be better, after all, you're not going anywhere. Everyone has their ups and downs. He just needed some reassurance. That's all.

He reached around and put a hand on the back of your neck, leaning in to speak softly into your ear:

— I'll take care of it. You trust me, don't you?

You sigh with so much relief and hug him, resting your chin on his shoulder. You feel safe with him. He has you, heart and soul. You complete each other in different ways. Maybe that's why, as he holds you tightly in his arms, Joel has his eyes fixed on the armchair in the corner of the bedroom or more precisely on the gun under his jacket.

Now that the deed is done, he's just waiting for the night and the fading light of the setting sun.

Joel knows what to do.

a/n — i love this song with all my heart and i needed to write something so here it is. 🧡

[english is not my first language. I am getting help from google translator and he is not always a good ally, so I apologize for any typos or grammar errors]

[maygirlsposts]

4,14,24,37,39 and 40 for Piper and Leo!

@scarareg Thank you so much for your ask!

leo x piper is kinda my self-indulgent secret ship heh, it's nice to talk about it sometimes hgjfkl;

4. Their favorite show to watch together?

I think they would love watching stupid movies (romcoms or unnecessarily sentimental and cheesy) together not bc they like them but so that they could make fun of the lines/scenes together like best friends do (bc ofc they are best friends first, lovers later). leo mimicking them in his stupid way, and piper giggling and rofling about like a buffalo the way she can't before others. they are the kinda couple who would enjoy everything they watch together.

but their ultimate fav, repeat to 10000x movie list till they have memorized every line is HTTYD, cuz yeah, leo-hiccup, toothless-festus, and ig piper is a lot like astrid? AND DRAgons!!! so yeah their go-to, top-of-head movie when they are lazy to try something new

(the only thing they never watch is tristan mclean movies lmao)

14. Who falls asleep during a movie?

Neither, but on hectic days when they are super tired, both of them catch the sleep bug and fall asleep.

if Leo is first to wake up to find the movie is over, he'd pick up piper and carry her to their bed, taking care she doesn't wake up (watching her sleep is secretly his fav thing, yk cuz of piper's cute way of sleeping: "inhaling through the nose, exhaling with a little puff through the mouth" and "her hair looked like it had become a nest for a friendly hamster")

on the other hand, if piper is first to wake, she'd prob simply arrange some pillows for their necks and go back to sleep, snuggling into him bc no chance she is getting cold lol

which brings me to the next choice!

24. Sleeping/cuddling positions? (Big spoon, little spoon, etc.)?

ggfhjk i love this question specifically for this ship cuz Piper is 100% the little spoon!

iirc (forgive me my knowledge of HoO is getting rusty! seriously, it's time for a full reread T_T) both piper and leo are the same height, right? maybe as adults, leo gets a late growth spurt of a couple of inches over her (which is annoying cuz leo is finally taller but secretly she likes it, cuz perfect for a side snuggle)

even otherwise, piper is always, subconsciously snuggling into his side cuz he is so hot warm. even if he hasn't used his fire, there is always some residual warmth in him all the time, which she has got used to searching out for. say, if leo gets up in the middle of the night to drink some water/got a brand new design idea in his head he just has to jot down NOW,,, by the time he returns to bed, piper is completely rolled up in his side of the bed, searching for him in her sleep (he loves this habit of hers! it also probs makes him feel better about his fire too)

iirc, his mom's warehouse caught fire in the middle of winter, right?? ig he'd slowly come to like winters better, bc of piper snuggling more into him during winters agfhjk

and iirc, he likes to sleep with a hug pillow, right? his old hug pillow has been replaced by piper!

39. Do they get along with the other's family? If not, how do they deal with the other's family?

on leo's side, hephaestus will be very suspicious of the daughter of aphrodite (cuz of his own experience with her) but talking to piper, he will be slightly mollified abt her… yet, his advice for Leo always will be to trust his machines more than the human specimen of his girlfriend (ofc leo won't take it seriously)

//toa spoilers/// now josephine and hemithea are his foster mothers i am sure piper would get along with them super well as well <3

on piper's side, leo has already met Tristan in Lost Hero and knows him as piper's friend, so he'd be pretty much chill with what pipes does and who she dates,, he might try to give Leo The Talk as his duty as her father, but Piper would kick her dad out before that ever happens (Leo just being the awkward bean like during the whole helicopter ride in TLH lol)

oth, leo would be mildly (understated) scared of Aphrodite. if they ever meet her (by chance) he'd keep fidgeting and tapping 'i love you' on his jeans till piper clasps his hand and taps back 'it's okay' but i think aphrodite won't be as scary as leo imagines in his head; she'd probs find him amusing and intrigued that her daughter actually prefers leo over jason.

40. Who is the skilled shopper for holidays? Who always waits 'til the last minute to get all of their gifts? (Which one gets stressed out easily)?

piper! she won't--but she would use her charmspeak to bargain for the best prices in those overly expensive, money grabbing malls, something that leo always finds terrifyingly awesome lmao,, piper gets excited for holiday shopping and stuff whereas leo tags along obediently (and use his magic toolbelt to stove away the shopping bags lol)

leo always forgets all of the important days because of his adhd (extreme even by demigod standards) and piper, having known him for long, understands this and never gets mad or anything but he'd always feel guilty about this and makes up for it in a completely random surprise gift he handdesigns for her. Of course, piper loves his stupid (affectionately) and most times, completely non-functional (cuz Leo himself doesn't know what they do loool but they are always weirdly complicated) gifts so much! like say a music box that goes moo! but bake out fresh cookies lmao

[prettyiwa]

I do not authorize the translation or reposting of my work.

Relationship: Miyuki Kazuya x F!Reader Rating: SFW Content Tags: POV Miyuki Kazuya, Childhood Best Friends to Lovers (it's really hard to define these two), Soulmates (if you squint), Frenemy OC Who's Known Kazuya Too Long, Mentions of a Less-Than Stellar Home Life (not as bad as it sounds), Light Insecurity, Two Ships Passing Summary: Kazuya's search for you during his final New Year's break turns up empty, leaving him to reach out to your friend who never really liked him. Word Count: 1,540

A/N: Man, coming up with tags for this is difficult because their relationship is a little difficult to describe (it could also be that it's almost 3 AM and I am tired). Anyway, this intro isn't that great of a mood maker, but it sets up the "present" rather well. A grand thanks to @tyga-lily, as always, for being my sounding board and encouraging my bad ideas ♡♡

It was just as he was leaving for Seidou. Your anxiety was plain to see—for him, anyway. Shifting weight from foot to foot as you fiddled with your pencil in one hand while gripping your sketch book too tight in your other. It was one of those times when you two were on the same wavelength, not because you two just got each other like that, but because you two felt the same. He threw his arm around your shoulder and felt your annoyance aimed at his face and felt the moment it disappeared.

I’m coming back. It’s not like I’m not going to see you between now and graduation. You’ll be here when I get back, right? 

Yeah.

Age 18 | January 3

Funny, how quickly his excitement to see you is replaced with anxiety upon hearing your name. How quickly anticipation to reconnect properly since first attending Seidou sours into confusion and something a little too closely related to fear.

Akari repeats your name and Kazuya nearly flinches at the way she says it—like she’s talking about someone who’s died, someone long gone with no hope of returning. It comes out like a question, one with an answer she’s tried to forget. He watches as your name sits on her tongue, flavoring her thoughts as she considers her answer. 

With a sigh, she shrugs. “I honestly haven’t seen her in a bit. I mean, I see her at school, but she hasn’t been around the neighborhood in some time.”

“Seriously? She still lives here. What do you mean, you haven’t seen her? Where else would she be?”

Annoyance flashes across her face and her fingers tighten where they hold the door open and he’s sure she’s waiting for the chance to slam it in his face. “Really, Miyuki? You of all people can’t be surprised.”

Her frown deepens as she watches him, realizing he has nothing to say—despite her conviction, he of all people is surprised. It’s been a little bit since you two spoke, but… c’mon. You wouldn’t leave. You told him you’d wait for him to come back, even if he’s a little late on the “coming back” part. 

“Okay, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt because you can be dangerously obtuse at times. Ignoring the fact that her dad can’t work anymore and that she’s working to pay the bills, what did you think would happen when you left? You thought she’d be hunky-dory? Actually. That sounds about spot on for you, Miyuki.”

“Hey, now. You don’t need to be cruel about it. She hasn’t told me any of this.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious. She tells you everything.”

“She hasn’t told me anything for a couple of months now. Did something happen? Maybe she got a new phone?” Even as he asks, he knows that slim sliver of hope he’s searching for is bullshit. You’d still have his number memorized and it’s not like changing phone numbers is exactly easy. 

“You sound awfully upset. Are you worried that she stopped wanting to be your friend?”

“I’m not upset,” he bites, only serving to make her laugh, the sound sharp and unnecessarily harsh. 

You wouldn’t just leave him like that. You wouldn’t leave without talking to him first. At the very least, you’d give him a fighting chance. 

“Sure, you’re not upset. You’re so dramatic. It’s nothing like that. She didn’t get a new phone or a new number. It broke the last time she went home but she hardly ever used it in the first place.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

He’s not that worried about whether you got fed up with him—it’s been nearly three years since he’s seen you, but he still knows you a helluva lot better than that—but being in Akari’s presence is becoming increasingly grating. How you ever do it for more than thirty minutes at a time, he’ll never know. She stops him as he starts to turn to leave, too exacerbated by her attitude to bother with propriety. 

“Wait. Fine. You’re nowhere near as fun as you usually are.” Glad to know this is a game to her, though maybe it’s deserved. “She doesn’t go home at all, as far as I know. She bounces around between our homes as she needs, usually asking the day of if it’ll be fine, but it’s been a while since she’s asked me.” 

What the hell’s happened in the time since he’s left for you to get to this point? To not bother going home? What kind of friend is he if he didn’t even realize—? 

“Even if I don’t like you—”

“Yeah, you got that message across loud and clear.”

“Even if I don’t like you, you should at least know that she told me she doesn’t see a point in coming around if you’re not here. I personally don’t get it, but you’ve been friends with her for twice as long as I have so maybe it makes sense to you.”

“... Thanks.”

The door clicks shut behind him and he’s sure that both he and Akari are disappointed it wasn’t a slam, that there was something else at the end of this interaction other than a mutual dissatisfaction and vague helplessness. Frigid winter air brushes past him, reminding him of just how cold he actually is. With the afternoon sun beaming down, everything still feels devoid of warmth. No matter the sure and steady movements that should supply some heat, no matter the layers of clothing he wears, your absence is making everything much colder than it is. 

She doesn’t see a point in coming around if you’re not here. 

That’s no surprise. Of everything he learned today, that’s something that strikes him as genuinely you. You two’ve always been close and would always tuck your promises and the like in blunt explanations and blasé phrasing. Never would he have imagined that you would leave without an explanation to him and, yet, this is where he finds himself.

Is it because he’s barely come home? 

Since starting at the school, he’s only come home for the New Years’ celebrations. This is his third one, but the other two were packed with recovery from the winter training camp and making sure his dad was okay. He figured you’d be okay, too, even if the New Year traditions that existed between you two were put on hold. You never said anything, but was it stupid of him to make an assumption? Had he gotten too caught up in his desire to play and win that he missed something as big as this? 

Home's in sight, but he can’t return just yet. On top of trying to find you, he came out to grab some food. Honestly, he was hoping that you’d be able to come over tonight and hang out with him in the kitchen like you used to. He wanted to know whether your skills had improved at all or whether he was doomed to cook for you both until who only knows when, but that’s definitely not happening. 

At this point, he’s tired and there’s a new weight on his chest that he would like to rid himself of but, with what little ingredients are available at the house, he can’t skip this trip. But so long as he and his dad have something to eat tonight and tomorrow morning, things should be fine. He turns on his heel to hit the 7-eleven instead of the market and it strikes him just how different everything seems. 

Kazuya can’t tell—nor does he care to differentiate—whether it’s caused by time passing, by the start of a new era fast approaching or whether it’s caused by your startling absence. Either way, his ears ring with the trill of your laugh from years past, the light teasing and the stupid jokes you both would make. It’s impossible to walk these streets without the shadow of you beside him. It’s a shame that it took this to understand the weight behind your words, but, yeah.

Knowing you’re not here makes this visit far less pleasant than it would have been. 

As he nears his destination, he tries to ignore the bustling of the bus, preparing to carry away the majority of the would-be crowd at the convenience shop, but there’s this minute, inexplicable urge he gets to look again. It’s once he’s crossed the street does he give in, only to meet your stare through one of the passenger windows. 

Your eyes widen in surprise, same as him, and he takes a step in the direction of the bus, though you both know he won’t make it. The surprise melts away and you give him a smile and a chuckle that he hears despite the barriers. Your hair is shorter and you look more mature—though he’s sure he looks different to you, too—but it’s the familiar intimacy of your smile that steals his breath.

He’d like to run, to stop the bus and get on, but it’s already leaving before he can finish the thought. Kazuya misses you more than he believed possible, but the near-miss only serves to lighten that newfound weight on his chest, even if just a bit. 

Fic Page | Daiya no Ace Masterlist | Next

[sillybilly-55]

Ranpo Edogawa x Y/N Fukuzawa

little spoiler: Your daughter asks you how did you met her father

warnings: Here may be bad grammar. Sorry guys

You were cooking for the dinner. Since Dianne was born, cooking dinner got a little bit harder. Only to please that little spoiled baby.

"Hey, mommy." greeted Dianne trying to sit on her chair in the kitchen.

You left all the utensils in your hand and helped her sit comfortably in the chair.

"Yes, sweetie?" your voice asked suddenly.

"I was watching a movie where two lovers were talking about how did they met each other. I am curious how did you met daddy."

Slightly surprised by her sudden curiosity you looked at her. Unfortunately she didn't do the same. She had cupped those rosy, chubby cheeks in her even smaller little hands as she admired the cookie jar. Sighing, you took a cookie out of the jar and handed it to her.

“How did I meet your father? Tough question,” you murmured trying to remember. “I think it all started when… HEY, DON'T PUT ALL THE COOKIES IN YOUR MOUTH AT ONCE. YOU WILL DROWN! I see, you inherited his sweet tooth pretty damn well, Dianne."

(15 years ago)

Yukichi Fukuzawa, your father, took him in. Since then he became your true best friend.

"Y/N, can I get a cup of tee?" Mister Fukuzawa looked right next to him. "Pardon, two cups of tee."

"It will be done in five minutes, father" you turned around barely looking at the new guest.

As for a few minutes your elegant and penetrating voice was heard from the kitchen.

"The tee's ready" you said as you placed a cup of tea in front of your father. "I didn't make it very sweet. I know you don't like it that way."

You turned to the right side where Ranpo was.

"I'm sorry sir…" you said awkwardly.

"Ranpo Edogawa, that's my name" he winked at you. "You don't have to tell me sir anyway, we're the same age." he continued in a slightly hoarse but manly voice. He was clearly in puberty.

"How do you know we're the same age?" you asked curiously when you thought better of it.

"I do not tell you." Ranpo teased you in a playful tone.

"By the way," he continued, "I like tea incredibly sweet so try to remember that next time" he winked again.

"Y/N, I want to talk to Ranpo about a mission so I'll ask you to go in your room" Fukuzawa said.

"Okay, father" you said disappointed.

You went to your room with your eyes tearing trying to not make your father nor Ranpo, looking at you in that state. But too bad, Ranpo noticed.

"So Ranpo..." Fukuzawa continued the conversation.

"Old man, I am sleepy. My brain does not work well if I don't sleep. May I stay out of this mission today?

"Fine" said Fukuzawa tired. "Go ask Y/N where you can sleep."

"Thanks, old man" said Ranpo rushing through your door.

Knock, knock, knock

"Hey Y/N, is me Ranpo. Open the door please."

The sound of your tears was replaced by the sound of your hurried footsteps towards the door.

"Ranpo, weren't you supposed to go on the mission with my dad?" Y/N asked trying to wipe the traces of tears from her eyes as she wished that Ranpo wasn't looking at her red eyes.

"Ah yes but I lied to him that I was sleepy to stay with you. I heard long sobs."

"Ranpo... There was no need to do that. I would recommend to not mess up with him."

"Y/N, this is moment where I got finally a friend my age who doesn't judge me for being too smart."

You smiled.

"I think you're kinda narcissistic, Ranpo-kun."

You pushed aside to make room for Ranpo to come in.

You two laughed for hours and late at night, after dinner (Fukuzawa bought some curry) you two went to sleep.

"Ranpo, I can sleep on the foton and you in bed. The couch is hard as a rock so I don't recommend to sleep there." you said sleepy.

"No, I refuse to sleep in your bed without you" Ranpo put the blanket over him really dramatically.

"Ranpo, we can't sleep in the same bed. It's too small and narrow."

"Still..." asked Ranpo with a needy voice and his doggy face.

"Fine" You gave in and laid down next to him. You closed your eyes and immediately started to fall asleep. Ranpo's hands straddled your waist as he settled his head more comfortably against the line of your neck.

"It's more comfortable that way. Goodnight Y/N." Ranpo said with a smile before promptly falling asleep.

"Good night" you said, running your hand through his hair thinking he didn't feel you, unfortunately he did.

So the months have passed since Ranpo entered your life. Although he was your friend, you couldn't deny the fact that you sometimes envied him very much. Your father only cared about him but, remembering about you? Just time to time. One day Ranpo asked you if you would like to go for a walk with him on the edge of the beach (let's imagine that Fukuzawa's house has a sea view <3). That was the moment when you were going to confess him the secret that for a long time you tried to drive away and not tell him about it but, you couldn't. It eats you from inside. And the only one to blame for that was Fukuzawa himself.

You and Ranpo walked around holding hands. Ranpo just couldn't keep his hands off you. The sea water reaches your bare feet. You flinched as the slightly cold water first met your fingers and Ranpo smiled slightly looking over at you.

"What a pleasant moment we chose to come here. The sun is setting and it's getting quieter here" Said Ranpo calmly.

"Indeed" you said just as calmly.

You continued walking for about 5 minutes until you let go of his hand. Ranpo looked at you confused.

"We have to talk." you whispered to him almost not hearing with your head down.

Ranpo fidgeted as he ran his thumb over your chin lifting it up so he could see you.

"What's wrong, Y/N?" he asked cautiously but worried.

"Everything." You said unable to take it all in. You were shaking with nerves.

You pushed Ranpo aside who was slowly trying to approach you. The poor man froze in fear. He didn't want you to cry, he doesn't like it when you cry since he first came to the Fukuzawa residence. "I'm tired Ranpo, tired of you and my father. I'm tired of seeing him so proud of you and so disappointed in me only when he remembers that I exist. Before you, I trained every day with katana even though at first I didn't like it at all,just to make him proud. But for you it's so easy to make him proud. When we had dinner together we hardly spoke and so on. With your coming nothing has changed in his attitude towards me. Look Ranpo, I like you but you took my only spotlight I could get from my father. You're smart, I'm not. You're useful, I'm not." Y/N had burst into tears.

"Y/N, do you realize that my parents died in a car accident? Do you realize that before your father took me in I was a street kid? I think you're just being selfish now." Ranpo said in a disgusted tone.

"Exactly. I'm selfish. That's why I'm leaving. It'll be better without me, for both of you. I promise." you said as you ran in the opposite direction of Ranpo.

"Y/N, I never wanted to hurt you, you know why? Because I love you idiot." Ranpo yelled after you.

But you were already gone.

Y/N's pov :

Now you had a taste of Ranpo's past life, you had nowhere to sleep, nothing to eat and no one would hire you for more than a day. After all, you are the daughter of an assassin. The bloodlust had to be kept at bay. With no luggage just a used katana and dried blood on it no one had mercy on you. Until one night when you entered an abandoned building hoping you could spend the night there but the building was already occupied.

"Um a visitor...?" a man's voice was heard not far from you.

"Please excuse me, I didn't mean to offend you." you fell to your knees in guilt.

The figure of a tall and slender man hidden in the shadows as he looked out the window finally showed himself.

"Oh you stupid child it's not that you came in here that bothers me but the state you're in now." the man was looking at your katana. "Wait, I've seen swords like this before. You're the daughter of that bastard Fukuzawa, right?

You blinked quickly not knowing what to do. That man had a dangerous aura.

"You don't have to answer me. You look a lot like him. The same messy hair and the same scruffy face. What are you doing on the streets?".

"I ran away from home, sir" you answered hurriedly and scared.

"My name is Mori Ougai. You don't need to feel scared." caress your hair. "I won't ask you anything else, you don't seem to want to talk about it. But I have a proposition for you. How about you join the Port Mafia? We'll pay you well, feed you well and treat you well. Of course if you don't want is your choice."

You immediately accepted. Mori took you into his care and since then you have suffered nothing but the longing of Ranpo. You wrote them letters but no answer, you didn't blame them.

Ranpo's pov:

After you left, Ranpo had become a little irritable. Not to annoy Fukuzawa, but he was still moody and depressed.

"Fukuzawa-san" Ranpo yelled nervously. His face showed despair.

"Ranpo, what happened to you?" Fukuzawa rushes down the stairs.

"What was Y/N to you?" Ranpo asked him sharply.

"What do you mean by that? She's my daughter." Fukuzawa replied confused.

"The way you treated her, I thought she was more like your slave. If she was your daughter, why did you treat her like a nobody?" Ranpo punched the table.

"Ranpo, what happened to you. What happened to my girl?" Fukuzawa asked worriedly.

"She ran away from home, that's what happened!" Ranpo roared in his earFukuzawa's cheeks had gone blank. Shocked, he sat down on the couch and let his tears flow. Strange to see a man as tough as Fukuzawa cry. Ranpo explained everything to him.

"I wanted her to become strong both physically and mentally Ranpo. I never wanted to push her away or worse make her run away from home. But if that's her decision at least I hope she's happy, from now on I don't have children anymore. The weeks were going by hard enough without you. Your letters were brought to your former home but never read by the one you most wanted to read them to you, your father.

They were all sitting on the fridge next to your dad's framed picture of you in your strawberry pajamas and Ranpo in your school uniform, with his face full of make-up and hair done. Whenever he went to the kitchen their eyes stayed fixed on your wide smile. You really loved Ranpo.

At the same time, the same Ranpo who read your letters secretly and who was hurt that since you left you didn't mention him at all. He didn't try to hook you up, he thought it would be better for you.

Ranpo was slowly getting used to you not being there.

(5 years later)

Fukuzawa had founded the Armed Detective Agency and the Port Mafia already had plenty of employees and allies. There were two powerful agencies but they acted totally differently, some were stepping on corpses to fulfill their goals and the other was saving people so that the opposite agency wouldn't have a corpse to step on. A game of cat and mouse, that's exactly what it was. At the beginning of the Port Mafia, Mori thought that the detectives were just playing with his nerves so he didn't seem to get bothered by that but, Fukuzawa thought the same and with time the nerves gave way for both leaders and a kind of war has started between the two agencies.

Y/N's pov:

A black army car was crossing a country road. Y/N Fukuzawa, a young assassin was waiting for instructions from her superiors. The first step in defeating the ADA was to evacuate all important documents so that if a detective were to break into Mori's office they would find nothing but napkins. Y/N was not happy with the task she had been given. She could do more and she knew it for sure. Y/N wanted to fight, just like her superior Chuuya Nakahara.

"Y/N, Y/N if you can hear me I should let you know that I need you here and now at headquarters." Chuuya's voice echoed in your headset. He seemed agitated. "It's an ambush." he yelled before an explosion rang out.

You jumped out of your seat to tell the driver to turn the car towards the docks as fast as he could but in the driver's seat sat a well hunched over being.

"What did you do to Nakagawa-son monster?"you asked with your shaky voice.

"There is no way I will let you break up the detective agency. From now on you call me Kamui, not monster." said a distorted voice.

"I haven't heard of a member named Kamui in the entire agency you liar. What do you really want? If you want us to fight take off your mask and show yourself." you said almost screaming.

Kamui just started laughing lightly. "You hardly changed at all."

Ranpo's pov:

The agency was under threat. Mafia members had an overwhelmingly large number of talented people in front of the agency. They had to act even if it was reckless.

They each took their positions and began bombing the mob headquarters (information gained from Dazai). Only Ranpo believed that someone from there would help stop this nonsense. It was his long-lost love, the only friend who never judged him (apart from Poe, dear Poe<3) and with whom he got along wonderfully. Y/N, his own boss's daughter.While Ranpo was cooking a plan he saw her. Fukuzawa's long, tousled hair tied in a bow at the top, her elegant gray suit, and the angelic expression on her face, it really had to be her. But he knew, he knew that she was part of an organization that was destroying the welfare of civilians and creating only chaos.

Although Ranpo would flatly refuse to admit it, he found himself suddenly standing up from the table and thrusting his hands so hard that the waitress thought he came to the cafe specifically to break the table when he saw you.

"Death never dies." Y/N suddenly shouted.

“Come on Y/N, stop struggling. We both know you're not talented.” Kamui says dismissively.

- As if you were. Y/N replies just as ironically.

But when Kamui suddenly laughs, the corpse of the driver who was originally lying headfirst exhausted and lifeless in the child's seat is now looking at Ranpo as if he hadn't been killed.

"What the hell? Y/N what is this?"

"My ability has developed over time Ranpo-kun." Y/N says as she tries not to smile childishly. "I expected you to come. But as a smart man to a dirty man instead of meeting and talking like two normal people, I chose the scumbag." she continued.

Ranpo didn't understand any of this.

"I see you're still confused dear. Let me explain how my ability works. In short I can control and manipulate people around me to do whatever I want, but not the person directly attacking me, which is you in that case." you winked at him. "So now Nakagawa-san, kill this boy next to you" she says as she eases herself into the back seat.

The corpse goes to strangle Ranpo but somehow seeing Ranpo in danger because of you triggered a new feeling in your stomach, guilt.

“Stop it” Y/N whispers.

The driver's corpse returns to being a corpse.

"Look Ranpo, what's in it for me if I help you? You're manipulating me emotionally. I basically betrayed my family by letting you get away."

"Sure, sure blame me. Look Y/N" Ranpo says those last words seriously leaving his childish voice aside. "I missed you nights in a row, I slept with my pillow thinking about you. I refused to wash your favorite pillow because it still smelled of you. I read your letters, all of them. I wanted to write you back but I afraid that you don't want to hear about me anyway. But one thing I have to say and I hope you'll feel the same, I love you."

"You idiot ass, I hate you so much" you pulled his collar so hard and pressed his lips to yours. "But I love you too and I don't promise to stop doing that"

After your little conversation you two stopped the conflict and you and Ranpo started dating. Ranpo helped you reconcile with your father, but unbeknownst to him, he also became a father in time.

Author note: HEY GUYS THIS IS MY FIRST COMPLATE ONESHOT. I know it's a little bit too long but I hope you like it. Request open<3

[beautifulfuckup99]

May I get a Halsey x fem reader please, you can do smut or fluff whichever one you like!!

-<3

Ya'll have been too h0rny this entire weekend with your requests, lol. I'm doin fluff!

Title: Peace...

Warning(s): Angst, but also a ton of fluff (I promise!)

Author's Note: Because I am such a little wh0re for "Family!AU", that's what this is. So, yes, baby Ender is around, but he is the son of Y/N and Ashley (Halsey). And this is also "Famous!Halsey AU" as well. I will be referring to her as 'Ashley' in the story cause that IS her name after all, lol. Hope you enjoy!

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

With a soft gasp, Ashley found herself awake.

It was always a sudden jolt of consciousness. Like she was being hit on the head by real life. As a child, she found the violent pull back to reality somewhat miserable and even cruel. How dare the real world take her from the comfort of her own head. Well, that wasn't phrased right either. Because her mind wasn't always her friend.

Let's correct that.

How dare the real world take her away from the bliss of being knocked out.

That's better.

With a soft hum and a few quick blinks that wave goodbye to the remainder of sleep on her mind, Ashley is now focused. On what exactly? Well.

She's focused on the soft breathing of her wife as she lays peacefully next to her. Such a soft puff of air, in and out, only being visible via the movement of her chest. Ashley finds herself trying to match the breathing perfectly. She always fails, but it's a great way to start her morning.

She's focused on the way Y/N's eyebrows knot together as if so focused on the task at hand: Sleeping. But that was Y/N. Ever so centered on any task given to her. Even sleeping, she was set on completing it right. Such a perfectionist she was...

She's focused on Y/N's lips that are ever so slightly open, some hair strands touching the pink lips of her lover as if protecting them, covering them. Teasing Ashley with the fact that she couldn't get to them. Not yet anyways. Those lips. She was grateful for those lips. They touched her dirty mouth every moment of everyday and made her words sweeter by contact. They touched her skin every night and made it glow brighter than the moonlight that would spill into their bedroom through the sheer curtains.

She's focused on the bare skin of her wife. The softness of it all and reminiscing on the feeling of it against her. A hand slowly reaches up, just needing a single touch of that skin. The skin that blessed Ashley every day when Y/N hugged or held her.

Ashley trails her fingertips along the shoulder of her lover and a hum softly escapes from Y/N's throat. Ashley smiles without even meaning to. It just happens. It always happens. With the most natural ease imaginable, Y/N will always bring that smile on to her lips.

Sometimes Ashley imagined her younger self watching her now. Moments where she'd garden with Y/N and Ender, or days where they'd try baking a new recipe Y/N just had to try out. She imagined the shock her younger self would feel. How it'd be clear on her face that she never thought she'd get this old. That she'd feel this loved.

Her parents loved her. Her brother loved her. Yeah, they did, but they were family. Y/N saw her in a completely different light, yet... She loved her like she was worthy of that emotion. Ashley's mind wonders from her younger self to herself before Y/N. How angry she was. How tired she was of constantly being proven wrong by life the second she claimed to have her shit together. She wonders if it was a sign this entire time. Cause she didn't get her shit together till she met Y/N.

Her train of thought is halted by a fussing coming from over the baby monitor. In that moment, the calmness to her chest is replaced with a jolt of pure excitement. Y/N and Ender had to be polar opposites in that way. One calming her and giving her a moment to reflect the lover she's turned into. And the other giving her a burst of excitement and pride, making her reflect on the woman she's grown into.

With a soft giggle, Ashley is up from bed and rushing to the room right across from theirs. "Hey, big man..." She whispers as she picks up Ender, nuzzling her face into his chest, smelling the freshness of his onesie as his small hands grip her hair. "Let's go wake up mommy, huh?" She teases quietly.

Maybe it was a little selfish to want her wife and child awake already, but she wasn't sleeping, so why should she stay up in bed waiting. She felt like a child does on Christmas morning. So ready to enjoy her gifts for the day.

"Mama!" Ender laughs, just as excited at the idea, and Ashley carries him across the hallway. She chuckles as she sees Y/N now hiding under the bed covers.

She playfully gasps. "Where did she go?! Mommy was just here!" She jokes and walks over to the bed. Y/N chuckles softly from under the covers.

"Where's mommy?" Ashley asks Ender and he giggles and points to the bed. "You think?" She teases and sets her son down on the bed. She watches in amusement as two hands sneak out of the covers and grabs Ender by his feet and sneakily pulls him under the covers too.

"Hey! Hands off the kid!" She laughs and gets on the bed to pull Ender away as he laughs. Y/N finally pops her head out from under the covers.

"You're no fun." Y/N taunts and Ashley snorts.

"You're fault. Should've never domesticated me..." She mutters and Y/N laughs sheepishly before leaning in to peck her wife softly on the lips.

"Best decision ever." Y/N teases quietly against her lips and Ashley feels a blush coming on to her face before she turns her attention back to their son who is happily chewing on his fingers between them.

"What's the plan for today?" Y/N asks as she plays with Ender's feet while he smiles wide while kicking them. Ashley watches the scene in front of her with soft eyes.

"What?" Y/N chuckles, noticing her wife finally. Ashley hums gently and shrugs it off.

"Nothing. Just... Real peaceful this morning is all." She whispers and Y/N smiles up at her and nods.

"I know what you mean..." She whispers before softly kissing her wife again.