#but there is no way in hell he didn’t acknowledge somewhere deep inside of him that he's attracted to men

[noxturnallyevermore]

saw a tag that said "No Beta - We Die Like Steve Harrington's Heterosexuality"

and my immediate reaction was "steve's heterosexuality died in s1" so.... fair

was he ever even heterosexual or was it just the script what was heteronormative? cause looking back at it, joe keery never played this man as straight

I'm telling you rn, look at his interactions with tommy and jonathan

steve is a whole fruit, the closet is made of glass people

[pickledpascal]

The Way The Water Flows

Chapter Five: Nothing in the World Belongs to Me

Warnings: after-sex moments, reliving of trauma kinda, whump as hell, jealousy??? admitting of feelings without admitting their feelings

Word Count: 3k

The Way The Water Flows Masterlist

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For the first time in years, Maya wasn’t plagued by nightmares in her sleep. Her mind was blank, a dreamless sleep, which she preferred. Just black nothingness. She was comfortable, warm, and, well, wasn’t that what mattered?

But, it wouldn’t last. Nothing did.

Maya woke up, realizing the warmth was Logan’s body pressed against her back while one of his arms was slung over her hip. She could feel the exhale of each light snore on her neck. She pushed a hand up the side of her face, brushing her hair away from her eyes. She knew she needed to leave, as much as she wanted to stay.

She gathered her clothes from the floor, quietly putting them back on. Thankfully, it was still dark enough outside that no one would be awake at this hour. Maya looked back at Logan who seemed to be peacefully asleep and her heart wrenched slightly before she slipped out the door.

One week at a school for mutants and she already fucked a teacher. Maya didn’t regret it, though. She liked Logan. Even before meeting him, she had a feeling she would like him. The way some people described him—tall, dark, and handsome—it made her imagination run wild with interest. A simple curiosity that turned less and less innocent after being in the danger room with him.

To act on her feelings? God, what was she doing? No, no, no, this wasn’t regret. This was surprise. Even if Maya did find someone attractive, it was more of an acknowledgment, an appreciation, of their looks rather than a burning desire. Logan brought it out of her and Maya wasn’t sure how to feel. Should she feel deeper for him? Did she and she just didn’t know it? What was the soft feeling in her chest that bubbled over every time he kissed her? She couldn’t describe it, not the full extent of it. It was something she had never felt before. An emotion she couldn’t name.

It was so contrary to most emotions she felt. Anger, sadness, doubt, fear. It was just as intense… but on the opposite side of the spectrum.

Maya sat on her bed, brushing her hands through her hair as she took a deep breath. Despite everything, she could still feel human. Despite everything, she still felt the full range of emotions. Despite everything, she was going to love.

She let out a strangled laugh, a few tears forming in her eyes. This didn’t have anything to do with Logan anymore, even if he was the one she was in love with. No, it was about her. She had felt like nothing for so long. Undeserving of anything this world had to offer. That’s what the people who kept her wanted to feel. Like she was just a lab rat, to be tested on and contained until they got bored of her and disposed of her like they inevitably would.

Despite, despite, despite, she was still alive. Still her. Somewhere, deep inside her, was that little kid who loved starting snowball fights, who loved doodling everywhere, who loved learning, learning from her teachers in a poorly funded school, learning from her mother who taught her all she knew about her culture.

And maybe that was worth all the running. So that little girl could keep on living and resurface one day to experience proper joy when she was ready. To see that rainbow after the storm which was slowly suffocating her.

Maya threw off her clothes, getting down to her underwear and bra before she laid down on the bed. She looked up at the ceiling, her arms at her sides as if she were in a coffin, letting the feeling wash over her. She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes to revel in it. She wasn’t an experiment. She wasn’t some thing to be kept and contained and demeaned. She had a life. Now, she was determined to make a new one for herself.

Though, occasionally, she’d wonder what her parents were up to. Were they even alive? Did they try to look for her after she was taken? Were they happy? Or did they go through a downward spiral, ultimately causing a mental decline? Most people didn’t care about missing Indigenous women anyway, they would think her parents were especially crazy if they said the government had taken her.

Maya rolled onto her side as she tried to go back to sleep. She wondered how much of her culture she missed learning about. She always wanted to learn her language, even as a kid, but that ship sailed long ago.

Being stuck in the past sucked. The ache for a life that has never existed. The ache to experience things like a normal person. Maya was far from normal and it wasn’t something that could be changed or erased as much as she may have wanted it to be.

When sunlight eventually streamed in through the cracks of her blinds, waking Maya, she huffed softly as she pulled herself up to sit. She stood from the bed and walked over to the floor-length mirror in her room, taking in her appearance as if it were the first time again. From the strands of the hair sticking up from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

She had black hair but honestly forgot the slight hue of blue that appeared under certain light, and then the strand of a more vibrant blue that appeared on the nape of her neck sometime while being captive that never faded or went away.

The scars littered all over her body from various experiments made her heart twist but the three new ones on her arm filled her with a warmth she wasn’t expecting. They were scars, yes, but it wasn’t tied to any trauma. Logan wasn’t some violent man who took pleasure in the violence he committed. She could tell he had been through so much, lost so much. And he didn’t want to break his own heart again.

With a soft breath, she ran a hand up and down her stomach when it grumbled. She took one last look in the mirror, pursing her lips. She didn’t exactly look like anyone else in the mansion. A tall, built, Native American woman with scars littered all over her body. Of course, there were blue ‘monsters’ walking the halls but she still felt like an outsider.

Then there was the obvious age gap between her, the students, and the teachers. She sat right in the middle with no one around her age to properly talk with.

Maya shook her head from her thoughts, grabbing some clothes to put on. For a while, her style was practical, t-shirts, basic jeans, jackets, and some boots. That didn’t really change much but the school provided her with more clothes than before which she appreciated a lot more than what she could express.

She pulled on some simple sneakers and drew in a deep breath to prepare herself in case she had to interact with another person. She went downstairs carefully, glancing around to see if anyone was awake. There wasn’t. She stepped into the kitchen and opened the fridge, scanning the shelves for her options. She wasn’t the best cook but she was resourceful and knew a few basic recipes.

Maya settled on some eggs with frozen fish she found in the freezer. She chopped the fish into small strips and ate it raw with some soy sauce along with the scrambled eggs. Though she was pretty sure the fish was salmon, the meal tasted like home. Her mother would do the same thing with Arctic Char instead, though they tasted pretty similar so it didn’t matter too much in the long run.

While in the middle of shoving the last piece of soy sauce-drenched fish in her mouth, Rogue appeared in the kitchen. Maya quickly wiped her hands on a napkin, swallowing the food in her mouth.

She tried to greet the younger girl, “Hey.” Her voice ended up coming out flat.

“Hey, Maya!” Rogue smiled. The girl’s southern accent was especially apparent in the morning. “Have you seen Logan around this mornin’? I tried lookin’ for him in his room but he wasn’t there.” Her eyes were hopeful if a bit longing for some information about his whereabouts.

Maya swallowed thickly, feeling caught and jealous at the same time. A mix of feelings foreign to her. Logan wasn’t hers. And probably never would be but she felt as if she had this claim over him.

Eventually, she answered. “No, sorry. Haven’t seen him since yesterday.” She tried to keep her tone even but she wasn’t sure she accomplished that.

“Oh,” Rogue’s hope dimmed a little in her eyes. “Thank you, though.” She left the kitchen, scampering off to find someone else who might have a better idea of where Logan went.

Maya watched her leave, jaw clenching for a moment before she cleaned up her plate and left as well. She found herself at the library, trying to get her mind off the nagging feeling that Rogue had feelings for Logan as well.

She picked up a book she remembered reading when she was younger—a mystery novel about a little Canadian town on the border between Canada and America. It was a nice distraction for a little while since no child wanted to willingly spend their time in the library.

Of course, that wouldn’t last long. Charles made his way into the library, catching her attention as she looked above the edge of her book. “You’ve been in here for a while.” He said, a slight smirk on his lips. “And I only have to assume it’s not for the wide selection of books we have.”

Maya set her book down, knowing it was no use to try and ignore him. “Lots of things have happened in the last day or so.” She murmured, setting her forearms on the table she sat at. “I’m sure you already know that, though.”

Charles hummed in response, looking past Maya at the bookshelves behind her. He returned his gaze towards her after a few minutes. “You’re starting to care a lot about what people think of you. I think you’ll find not many care, or don’t care, in the ways you think they do. They might surprise you.”

Maya looked down at her hands, knowing he must be talking about Rogue. Or Logan. Or Rogue and Logan. She rubbed her thumb over a small freckle on her knuckle. All these new experiences were overwhelming but she was taking it in stride.

“Maybe you should talk to him.” Charles urged softly, tilting his head as his eyebrows furrowed. He cared about Maya in a way he hadn’t cared for a new student for quite some time, perhaps since Jean.

Maya looked up at Charles, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “I can’t really talk about my feelings that easily, Xavier.”

“Now is a better time than never, is it not?” He pressed. “You would feel a lot better after just getting it out. Next time it will be a lot easier.” Charles left her with that, letting her stew in her thoughts.

Maya slipped out of the library and made her way back out into the back courtyard. All this emotional turmoil was getting to her and she needed to let it out on something that was not near the mansion or inside it. So she took a small walk into the woods behind the mansion.

When she deemed herself to be far enough away, she took a deep breath. Her hands met as she exhaled the breath, keeping herself center as her stance widened. Her hands lifted, taking out all the water within the grass beneath her, leaving it dead. Her fingers flexed which turned the multiple droplets into a single, thin line.

It was all she needed to slice into the woods around her, leaving a deep indent or two into each tree she passed. No, she didn’t plan on taking Charles’ advice. Not soon, anyway. Beating the frustration out of her was all she needed. With each battle cry and grunt, the tension slowly left her shoulders until she collapsed to her knees. She caught herself with her hands, bracing herself against the dirt.

She forgot that even a “normal” life contained the bad emotions she tried so hard to leave behind. Anger and sadness. But nothing felt quite like this. The flare of jealousy turned to anger. But it wasn’t at Rogue, it was at herself. The sadness that welled in her chest because she knew Logan could never feel the same. Could never admit it if he did.

Regret still wasn’t something she felt. She couldn’t. Maybe this crush would go away and she’d move on with her life, thinking of last night as just a good experience. A part of her hoped that would happen but knew it wouldn’t.

Maya picked herself up from the ground, dusting off her knees before she walked back to the mansion with her hands in her pockets. The sun was setting by the time she got back. She noticed Logan was outside, smoking a cigar.

She took a breath as she walked up the steps to the back porch. He noticed her immediately like she thought he would. “You get jumped?” Logan asked as he took the cigar from his mouth, smoke expelling from his lips.

“No, uh,” Maya glanced down at herself. She knew there was some dirt on her pant legs but she didn’t think it was that bad. “Needed to take a walk. Lot on my mind.” She said honestly.

Logan stepped closer to her, eyes softening as he put his cigar back in his mouth. “Look, I’m sor—”

“It’s not about you.” Maya cut him off, looking away from Logan as she crossed her arms over her chest. Charles’ words were echoing in her mind. “Well, it is about you. But not all of it. I just—” She didn’t want to say the word. “I care about you a lot. And I haven’t cared about someone in this way ever. It’s scary. I haven’t been anything more than a weapon for years and I missed out on so much.”

Logan let out a breath from his nose, stomping out his cigar. He hooked a finger under Maya’s jaw, coaxing her to look at him. “I know what that’s like.”

Maya looked into his eyes, realizing he was telling the truth. Mutant experimentation wasn’t that rare, but it was rare for her to connect to someone so deeply who had gone through the same things she had.

He pulled her close, wrapping an arm around her waist while his other hand cradled the back of her head. “I care about you too, sweetheart. I know I suck at expressing it. But I do. And it scares me too ‘cause I—” His voice broke slightly. “The last person I let myself have ended up dead.”

Maya pursed her lips as her heart ached for him. She pulled away from his arms just enough to see his face, his eyes, and the hurt in them. “I won’t end up like them.” She told him, lifting a hand to cup his cheek. He involuntarily leaned into the touch. “I’d crawl out of every grave just to see you.” And she meant it. She was determined to live, no matter what. To experience all the ugly and beautiful things her life had to offer.

“You’re too good for me,” Logan whispered, eyes flitting over her face to commit it to memory. “I could never give you… what you want. Peace.”

Maya let out a small laugh. “Maybe not. But it might come anyway,” Her thumb caressed over his cheekbone. “In a way you or I won’t expect.”

Logan let out a weak, small noise before he pressed his forehead against hers. He closed his eyes, relishing in her touch and the gentleness of which she cradled his face. Warmth washed over him even though her hands were cold, his chest swelling with a feeling he hadn’t experienced for years. Maybe decades at this point.

“Have I met you before?” Logan asked softly, desperate for some sort of explanation as to why he felt this way. Why she felt this way.

Why didn’t she become scared of him after he hurt her? Why was she so determined to break down his walls? And why did she stay? Why did she choose him, out of all people? Jean had feelings of some sort for him but she always thought of him as the dangerous guy that would only ever be a second choice.

Why was he Maya’s first?

Maya tilted her head, a soft smile on her face. “Maybe in a previous life.”

Charles was right. As he always was. Logan cared so much for Maya. So much that she could tell he was trying to let her in, to let her see what was beneath that rough surface. She adored him for it. He might never say the “L” word but, right now, this was enough. It was so much more than she expected.

Logan chuckled softly before capturing her lips in a kiss, sliding a hand to tangle in her hair. A little more experienced in the area now, Maya deepened the kiss as she placed a hand on his hip to keep him close. She wanted to pour every single emotion she was feeling into it and, damn, it worked. It worked so well that it made Logan dizzy.

“Shit, sweetheart.” Logan broke the kiss to breathe but Maya immediately started to attack his neck, leaving little love bites that would go away mere seconds after appearing on his skin. He could still feel every last scrape of her teeth. “Ah, fuck—” He hissed.

Maya pulled away from his neck with a smug look in her eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” She asked, stepping back to put a little distance between them.

For a few seconds, he couldn’t think. He got there eventually. “Yeah, yeah,” Logan knew he must have flustered cheeks and widened pupils. “Tomorrow. Promise.” He nodded.

“I look forward to it.” Maya looked him up and down before she retreated into the mansion.

God, he needed another cigar.

[justanotherstarlightmonger]

Helsinki Chapter 7: Pajamas.

Helsinki syndrome is a term sometimes used incorrectly in place of Stockholm syndrome. It’s use in literature is often ironic and deliberate and literally means when a captive refuses to cooperate with their captor.

Summary: A war of wits does have some rules too. But if one party refuses to acknowledge the sacred rule of leaving family out of it, the other must retaliate stronger to quell any such advances for the future… Or at least that’s what Min Yoongi told himself when he abducted Kim Namjoon’s younger sister. That was before he realized that this elaborate game of chess didn’t have just two players and before he had promised Namjoon he’d keep her safe, But also before he realized that one month was enough to leave his whole life in chaos.

Genre: MAFIA AU, slight yandere themes, smut, a happy sprinkling of fluff/comfort, and a truckload of ANGST.

WARNINGS: None (◔‿◔)

Pairing: Main pairing: Mafia!MIN YOONGI X READER

Others include: Collegeboyfriend!Hosoek x reader + Mafia!Taehyung x reader + Kidnapper!Seokjin x reader.

Word count: 2.4k words

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Thunder peeled loudly and Taehyung sat up in his bed. It was a brutal storm. He could hear the harsh rain falling heavily outside and once in a while another weak streak of lightning would light his room.

The house was very silent, but that was to be expected at 3 in the morning. Still, an uneasy feeling sat in his stomach that urged him to get up and check on the residents. Was his brother even home? He wasn't sure. And he sure as hell, wasn't sweating about your safety, but he still found himself swinging his legs off the bed and standing up, reaching to turn on the bedside lamps.

That's when a lone figure caught his attention outside. His eyes widened as he took another step to confirm what he was seeing. Sure enough, you stood in the pouring rain outside, eyes closed and shoulders hunched.

His feet were taking him outside and downstairs before his mind had caught up. Somewhere along the way he had picked up a spare t shirt lying on the rug at the foot of his bed and had picked up an umbrella from the basket at the foot of the stairs.

He threw open the front door, the howling wind screaming in his ears as he opened the umbrella against the force of nature that seemed determined to wash away everything in it's path.

"Hey!!" He called out to you, well aware that his voice was being drowned by the wind.

Cursing under his breath, he dashed out into the garden, holding the umbrella above his head and the dry t shirt safe under his arm.

The pounding rain suddenly stopped, and you gasped, opening your eyes to see a tall figure towering over you, holding a dark umbrella in his hand and shooting you what was probably a disapproving look, but you couldn’t be so sure in the dark.

“Do you want to get sick?” the deep voice asked you.

Oh, so it was the brother. You shrugged. “Does it matter?” you asked softly, sure that your voice would be lost in the pitter patter of the rain falling on the umbrella.

“What happened?” he sounded concerned. You looked up at him, your eyes incredibly heavy from lack of sleep and all the crying.

“What makes you think I’ll tell you?”

Taehyung tsked. He couldn’t believe this.

“Ok, don’t tell me, but at least let me take you inside?”

You considered it for a moment before nodding once.

Sighing in relief, he stepped to the side, letting you take the lead as he silently followed, making sure you weren’t getting any more wet.

Dripping in the entrance hallway, you sighed in relief at the warmth inside the house. But as soon as Taehyung closed the umbrella, leaning it against the door to let the water drip, you felt the bile rise back in your throat.

“Um... I know you don’t want to tell me what the fuck happened to warrant you sobbing in the garden at 3 am, but I would like it if you told me. Maybe I can fix it.” you heard from behind you.

You whipped around, shocked at the audacity. “You’ll fix it? You think you can fix it? Why does every man in this house have a fucked up savior complex? No one under this roof especially can fix anything for me. All you can do is mess it up even more, so don’t even bother.” You unknowingly shoved the shoulder that was close to you in anger.

That was a mistake. Searing pain shot through Taehyung and in a second, he was hissing and holding his upper arm, eyes closed and face scrunched in pain.

“Oh God, I’m sorry.” immediately whatever anger you had was draining away, heart tugging at the sight of the genuine pain the man seemed to be in, “Oh no, what did I do?” you looked around frantically, but of course no one else was awake. “Hey, dude... Mister... I’m so sorry, are you okay?” you fussed. Oh how the turn tables.

“My name’s Taehyung.” came the grunt from between clenched teeth.

You couldn’t help it, you giggled. He shot you a scandalized look.

“I’m sorry, you’re in so much pain and the first thing you tell me is your name?” you said, holding back a laugh.

Taehyung straightened, his hand still holding his arm, but the pain quickly dissipating from his face, replaced by a tight lipped smile, “Well, when an annoying little girl calls you dude mister, you have to take drastic measures.”

You scoffed. “What happened to you anyways?”

“You tell me and I’ll you.” He shrugged.

“Ugh... ok but I’m guessing I’ll have to go change first?”

That’s when Taehyung voiced another thing that has been bugging him, “Hasn’t Yoongi hyung bought you any clothes? Why do I always see you in your pajamas?”

Now, you laughed.

“What?” he sounded offended.

“No, he offered to buy me clothes, I just don’t want them.”

“Is it a comfort thing?”

“It’s a ‘I-won’t-be-indebted-to-my-kidnapper’ thing.”

“Counterintuitive. You’re already wearing pajamas he bought you.”

Who was this smarty pants? You rolled your eyes.

“I can take you shopping tomorrow if that’s what you’d like.” he offered.

You raised your eyebrows. Not this again. You turned away, making your way to the stairs, “I’ll be back.” you called over your shoulder, leaving Taehyung standing in the hallway, still clutching the t shirt he had brought for you, and his mind buzzing with a strange emotion the interaction elicited.

And soon enough Taehyung was rolling his eyes as you appeared in a fresh set of maroon silk pajamas, jumping over the last two stairs and landing in front of Taehyung, confusing him with your happy disposition. As if he hadn’t just brought you in from crying in a thunderstorm at 3 am?

Deciding he wasn’t going to question it, he tilted his head and made his way to the drawing room, mumbling a tiny, “For the love of…”

Both of you sat on the soft rug next to the coffee table and without wasting a second extra, Taehyung was asking you, “So…what happened?”

You rolled your eyes, “No, you tell me first.”

“Ladies first,” the baritone voice stated, no room for argument. Suddenly whatever mysterious happy disposition you had, drained away. You bit the inside of your cheek.

“So…Yoongi called my brother.” you said lowly.

“Oh.”

You nodded.

“It was bound to happen at some point,” he said calmly.

“Well, yes but wouldn’t you think my brother would have at least put up a fight? Would’ve at least fought for me?” your voice got hoarse.

“He didn’t?” Taehyung probed.

You shook your head dejectedly.

Taehyung’s hand found your fingers fleetingly. You pulled your hand away, not exactly disgusted, but opposed to his warm fingers closing around your cold ones.

“I find that a little hard to believe though.” he said, unfazed by your rejection.

You shrugged, aware that your words would fail you. “He agreed to Yoongi’s terms. He agreed to me staying here for a whole month. He agreed to let all the shipments pass.” you whispered.

A strange sense of relief washed over Taehyung, the businessman in him taking the forefront for some moments. The shipments would pass unhindered? If Kim Namjoon had agreed, it would decrease a lot of work to be done on Taehyung’s end. He missed the way you looked up at him, to gouge his reaction, to see the way his expression softened and the slightest curve of his lip upwards.

That solidified your belief that at the end of the day, everyone here was in it for something for themselves. No one here held any sympathy for you. You looked away, heart hurting so much that you thought you wouldn’t be able to take the next breath.

But the thing was, you didn’t want to be alone in your room tonight. You didn’t want your thoughts to occupy your attention. You didn’t want nightmares to wreck your brain. And despicable as he was, Taehyung was company. Company you desperately needed.

“So what about you?” you nodded to the bandages on his arm.

“Well, your brother shot me a couple of days ago.”

What the fuck? Could Namjoon’s image shatter more in one night?

"He what?" You asked, though you had heard loud and clear.

Taehyung nodded. "It's not something that bothers me much anymore. At the end of the day, gunfights are an occurrence I come across more often than I'd like to."

"Because of…"

" My line of work." Taehyung smirked.

" Right, that." You scoffed, aghast at the way that he seemed to see nothing wrong with that. " What is your line of work exactly?"

" You don't need to know that sweetheart" the sudden coldness in his quipped answer gave you whiplash, and immediately you were reminded of the fact that at the end of the day, he was a Mafia member.

An argument lingered on the tip of your tongue for a full minute, it was a visible struggle to hold your tongue, before you shrugged. “I’m sure I don’t.” you said.

Taehyung was endeared by you, he had to admit. You had a curious glint in your eyes and a rebellious streak in your mannerisms. He felt that you didn’t like taking orders, and that made your current problem an even bigger pain in the ass for you.

“So, what do you do when you’re not moping in your room all day?” he asked.

“Excuse you?” you gasped. You had hardly moped in your room, in fact you had spent more time out in the garden, with a certain, rather unwanted visitor today. “I like the garden. It’s the only place here that doesn’t make me want to murder someone.”

A deep laugh left Taehyung, the sound rumbling richly in his chest and echoing in the silence of the house. It sent thrills up your spine due to how easy and rich it sounded. “I’d like to see you try and murder someone here.”

A giggle left you, despite yourself, the air easing almost immediately.

“I like the garden too.” he conceded, “I had Shanghai’s best horticulturists design it, because I wanted it to be a respite for me whenever I came here.”

This was the first time someone had told you something without you prompting it. Something that they told you, simply because they wanted you to know. Somehow, that made you feel better about the whole situation. A strange wave of emotion came over you. You smiled warmly at Taehyung. “They did well.” you said softly, your reservations crumbling.

And that’s how Mrs. Fen and Yoongi found you and Taehyung the next morning, leaning against the couch, feet resting on the coffee table, a leisurely, companionable air surrounding you and occasional laughter leaving your bubble as you both talked about many things that were miraculously common in your polarly opposite lives.

But where Mrs. Fen smiled and brought both of you some juice until she got breakfast ready, Yoongi only silently observed, and unknowingly frowned, a small pout forming on his lips as he made his way to the dining room.

Something seemed to be bugging Yoongi when you took your seat at the table, the wonderful homely array of breakfast side dishes greeting you and making you hungry. You couldn’t figure out exactly what it was, because you barely knew the man, how were you supposed to know what bugged him, Taehyung on the other hand, recognized the subtle signs of grumpiness. The silence that was heavier than usual, the way Yoongi refused to meet his gaze and the untouched newspaper next to his plate as he scoffed down his food, determined to just leave the table as soon as possible.

But why? Especially if this had anything to do with him and Y/n. Because hadn’t Yoongi been the one to make her cry last night? All Taehyung did was fix Yoongi’s mess, as he always did. Taehyung rolled his eyes. His older brother really needed a reality check sometimes. He cleared his throat.

“Hyung, I’m taking y/n shopping for some clothes later.” it was just a heads-up. Taehyung was long past asking permission. Yoongi’s spoon froze in the air for a millisecond, before he collected himself and shot Taehyung an icy glare. Yup, that confirmed his suspicions, Yoongi was definitely mad at him.

You, on the other hand, were only staring at him, confusion etched onto your face. You hadn’t agreed to anything like that. Annoyance stirred in your stomach at the audacity, and you questioned whether you had made a wrong decision, getting closer to Taehyung.

“You can take her, if she agrees to go.” Yoongi’s answer was simple but firm. He knew you had outright refused to let him take you shopping, so either you had grown immeasurably close to Taehyung over the course of a single night (his stomach churned at the thought), or Taehyung was saying it just for the sake of saying it, not having run the idea across you first. Yoongi strongly suspected it was the second option.

Plus, the fact that making you agree would be a challenge he’d love to have his beloved little brother take on.

Consent was sexy. It always had been in your book. And this right here, the cold nonchalance while giving that order, as if it should have been understood from the get-go, did many things for you. A shy blush crept up to your cheeks, and you almost smiled at Yoongi. Almost. Until you remembered the cold feel of the gun pressing into your stomach last night and suddenly you felt sick again, and the food didn’t look that appetizing anymore.

“Of course she’ll agree, Right y/n?” Taehyung asked you cheerfully, his mouth full and lips pouting. You found yourself nodding at him, before the sensible part of your brain told you what a stupid idea that was.

“See?” Taehyung said, satisfied. Yoongi shot you a betrayed look and you couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him. What possessed you to say yes? The idea that anywhere was better than here? Mayhaps. Especially if Yoongi was going to be home the whole day. Suddenly spending the day with Taehyung, and getting a couple of dresses, didn’t sound so bad. After all, you had been getting fed up with the repetitive solid color pajama sets in your wardrobe.

A/n: Thank you all so much for reading! Be sure to let me know what you think and how I can improve (✿^‿^)

[darkmulti]

(Yandere and non con warning)

Def not the only one who wants a 18th century h.c of possessive and controlling, husband!Jungkook x forced wife!reader. Jungkook gets jealous after witnessing another man asking you out and when you come back home at night, he breeds you. Please make it rough and non con. Thank you❤️‍🔥

-> you’re definitely not the only one. I can assure you that I’ve thought about this too many times😫

⚠️: NON CON, YANDERE!JUNGKOOK, Squirting/piss play, Physically, mental and emotional abuse, spit play,

-> sorry for any mistakes

Your parents owned a local bakery store

All the recipes were from your late grandmother

You spent almost all of your time there because you were in charge of everything

The store was under your parents’ name but you were the one running it

Sometimes, you even slept there because it’d be too late to walk home

Your dedication to the bakery made it successful

Although, you were the one doing all the work, you parents took all the credit and money

They weren’t paying you because you’re their child

They don’t need to pay you

“It’s a women’s place.” Your father said

You wanted to go back to school however, your parents laughed in your face

“School aren’t for girls, Y/N. Learn how to cook and clean. That’s all you need to know. Let the men handle everything else.”

You were tired of fighting with them and eventually stopped because they threatened to set you up in an arrange marriage

Now, it was just you and the bakery

You had many loyal customers and recently, one has been coming everyday, at the same time

He’d always buy a loaf of banana bread and if he was in a good mood, a blueberry muffin as well

Then, he’d sit in the corner table and eat two - three slices before getting up and leaving

He’d always leave a tip behind and you always kept it for yourself

One day, he didn’t come and you were surprised

For a year straight, he came and bought the same two things

Now, he hasn’t visited in 4 days

Tonight, you came back home for the first time in a while

Your parents had visited the bakery to collect “their” earnings and told you that you have to go somewhere with them that evening

After closing up and cleaning up, you went home and got ready

Your parents were taking you out for dinner as a treat for all your hard work

You were really excited because they were finally acknowledging your hard work

Once you arrived at the restaurant, your parents lead you to a table that already had three people seated

You immediately recognize one of them

It’s that guy who buys your banana loaf!

You sat in front of him while your parents greeted the two other strangers

“Oh, so this is your daughter? She’s gorgeous! Come here and give me a hug.”

You awkwardly chuckled and got up to hug the middle aged women

“Oh! Where are my manners? My name is Jeon F/N, this is my husband, Jeon F/N and this is our son, Jeon Jungkook. We’re your soon to be in laws!”

You heart dropped to the floor

“I-in laws?” You asked, confused

“Yeah, honey. Is this your first time hearing about this? We’ve been talking to your parents for a while now.”

You snapped your head towards you parents and they looked emotionless

“No, no they didn’t tell me anything.”

Dinner with them was hell

Your parents were talking about your wedding arrangements right in front of you

You didn’t know what to do

You wanted to rebel but then your parents would disown you

Just like that, you’d be homeless with little money to survive

In the end, you’d be paying the heavy price

You looked at Jungkook who was staring at you the whole time

You wondered if he knew about this

Maybe, that’s why he came to the bakery everyday

“Did you know anything about this?” You said loud enough for him to hear

“I did.”

“For how long?”

“Since last year.”

You eyes widen, in shock

You were right!

“Why didn’t you stop it?”

“Why would I stop it when I’m the one who wants it?”

You scrunch your eyebrows, in confusion

“What’re you talking about?”

“Since the first day I met you, I wanted to marry you. I told my parents and now, we’re getting married.”

Now, you were mad

You got up and stormed off, catching everyone’s attention

You walked to the bakery and locked yourself in

Here, you thought your parents were acknowledging you for first time, when they were actually setting you up for a marriage so they don’t have to take care of you

You cried yourself to sleep that night

The next couple of weeks, the bakery was closed due to your wedding

The wedding was spectacular

You would’ve love it if you weren’t being forced into a marriage

After the wedding, Jungkook took your precious virginity

He made sure to pleasure you until you passed out

He was so in love with you

Now, he was finally able to show you how much he loved you

And mark you as his

The next couple of months, he was attached to you

He took over his family’s business and you took over your family’s business

He’d visit you every day at work to check if you’re with another man

He was so paranoid about it, sometimes he’d come by 3 or 4 times to make sure you were not cheating

You thought he missed you and that’s why he kept stopping by (which is half true) however, you had no idea that he was possessive and controlling

You had to learn the hard way

Sometimes, you wouldn’t leave work until midnight

You had so much things to do like preparing for the next day, making a to-do list, making a grocery lists, and cleaning every area of the shop

It’s time consuming, so obviously you finish up pretty late

Jungkook absolutely hates that

Although you stay late in the shop once in a while, he can’t stand it

He wants you to be in his arms every night

Jungkook gets angry when you’re not

This was your fourth time staying out late in the shop and he’s had enough

He couldn’t help but feel paranoid about what you were actually doing in the shop

What if you lied and went on a date with another man?

What if you were running away from him?

Or even worse, what if you were having sex with another guy?

He raced to the bakery and banged on the door, which scared you

You saw that it was him and let him in

“W-what’s wrong?! You scared me!”

“Grab your stuff, we’re going home.”

“But I’m not done yet! I only have a couple more things to do and then I’ll come home. I told you already-”

“I don’t think you fucking heard me!” He yelled and grabbed your hair

“Grab your shit, we are leaving right now.”

He pushed you towards the counter and crossed his arms

You let your breath out in shock but scurry to get your stuff

You’ve never seen him like this and it terrified you

“I have my stuff.”

“Good, let’s go.”

He helped you lock the door and wrapped his arm around your waist

The walk home was silent

You were scared shitless

All you wanted to do was run back into your parents’ house

But he didn’t let you move an inch away from him

Once you got home, he started pushing you around and arguing some more

“Jungkook, I told you this afternoon when you came to visit! I said I have to stay late so I don’t have to stress myself out in the morning!”

“Don’t fucking lie to me! Who were you fucking seeing?!” He screamed, frightening you more

“No one! I swear, no one!” You whimpered

He corned you into your shared room and locked the door

“Jungkook, I swear! Nothing happened!”

He didn’t believe a single word coming out of your mouth

It was like you were talking to a wall

He pushed you onto the bed and stripped you naked

Jungkook pushed two fingers into your cunt and pretended to scoop out cum

“If nothing happened, why is your cunt full of cum?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I didn’t have sex with anyone!”

You weren’t very educated about sex, so Jungkook had an advantage

You began apologizing even though you didn’t have sex with anyone

You just wanted peace between you two

“I’m sorry! I didn’t cheat or anything, but I’m sorry if it hurt you! I really am!”

Jungkook slapped you and spat on your face

“Dirty slut. Telling me that you’re not cheating but still apologizing.”

“No! Please, I didn’t do anything!”

Jungkook pulled his cock out and shoved it in without warning

You were still new to sex so when he didn’t let you adjust, you automatically started screaming and crying

“Please, slower!” You cried, holding onto his biceps as he went faster and deeper

“Stop! Please!”

Jungkook loved the sound of his balls clapping against your ass

It honestly made him harder

All night, he was on top, fucking you hard

Your legs were spread apart, tears in your eyes and sweat dripping down your forehead

You looked like a hot mess

And he loved every second of it

“Mmh- Jungkook!”

You squirted around him and had a trembling orgasm

You couldn’t stop releasing your liquids on him and he couldn’t stop pounding you

The bed sheet was soaked by the end of it

He pushed his cock deep inside and came

After Jungkook fell asleep, you cried for while

How were you supposed to tolerate him for the rest of your life?

The next morning

You woke up in severe pain

You lower region was begging for some pain relief

But there was nothing you could do about it

Jungkook was still sleeping next to you

You decided to leave before he wakes up

After getting ready by leaning on everything, you slowly walked to town

When you arrived at the bakery, you saw a big “for sale” sign

You panicked and went inside the store, only to be greeted by your parents

“Mother, father! Why is there a “for sale” sign on the bakery?”

You parents looked at each other in disappointment

“You see, we have to explain the obvious to your daughter. Be grateful that someone willingly married your idiot daughter.” Your father said before walking out

His words did hurt but you cared about the bakery more than your father

“Why’re you selling it, mother? Can you not afford it anymore? Why-”

“Shut up, Y/N! You’re married now, you have wifely duties. You don’t have time for this bakery so the best option is to sell it.”

Your world fell apart right before your eyes

“But mother-”

“Save it. You already made your father upset. I’m warning you now, you don’t want to get on my bad side.”

You cried the whole morning

After you opened the bakery, lots of people gathered in line

All breads, cakes and muffins were going on sale

After you served the people in line, you went up to the tables and took their order

After you served them, a regular customer who was sitting alone gestured you to come over

You went over to the man and asked him if he needed anything

He told you to take a seat and accompany him

Since the crowd died down, you sat down in front of him

“You look a bit stressed and sad. What’s on your mind?”

You were touched by his words

Finally, someone cared about you

You told him you were upset about the bakery closing

He understood and even offered money to help you keep it open

You were flattered but didn’t accept the money

“Money’s not a problem, my parents just don’t want to keep this shop open.”

You talked with this guy for a couple of hours

Although this was your first time talking to him, you talked to him like he was your best friend

When closing time came around, he got up and asked you out on a date

You didn’t know what to do

You were married but you really liked this guy

You were considering saying yes when someone pulled his shoulder back and punched him across the face

“Jungkook! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“You think I didn’t see that?! I saw it all. I saw you flirting with my wife for three hours straight and then asking her out on a date!”

Jungkook beat the crap out of the guy and pushed him outside

He then came back in the store, looking at you with devil eyes

“Yesterday’s punishment clearly wasn’t enough.”

The entire way home, he was yelling at you, slapping you, spitting on you, pulling your hair, pushing you to the ground and choking you

You were crying the whole time, apologizing over and over

When you arrived home, he seriously had no mercy on you

No foreplay, no lube, no adjusting

Just a raw, thick cock being forced into you

You were begging him to let you go but tonight, nothing was going to stop him

He was moving his hips insanely fast, not giving you enough time to breathe

You were choking on your own sobs

“Jungkook, please no! I’m sorry!”

“Why did you hesitate to deny his offer? You are a married fucking women!” With each word a hard thrust followed, knocking all the air out of you

“Answer me! Is he better than me? Does he take care of you? Does he provide money for you? TELL ME!” He was yelling so loudly, it was making you cry harder

“N-no, he doesn’t. He was just the first person to care about me.” You whispered the last sentence but, Jungkook was able to make it out

“Are you saying that I don’t care about you?”

He got more aggressive and fastened his pace

“Tell me, Y/N! Do you think that I don’t care about you?!”

You couldn’t answer him because you couldn’t catch your breath

He was going too fast and you were crying so hard, you couldn’t breathe

Jungkook noticed how much you were struggling and added onto your struggle by holding your neck down

“Apologize, right now Jeon Y/N!”

You softly apologize but it wasn’t good enough for him

He lifted your legs a little, giving him better access and fucked you till you squirted

This time you sobbed your apology and begged for forgiveness

“I’m so sorry, Jungkook! It’ll never— ah! It’ll never happen again! I’m so sorry! Please for- forgive me for my dumb m-mistake. Please! I’m begging you.” You held onto the bed sheet, praying he would stop

He huskily growled and pushed his cock in deep

“For the next 9 months you’ll be swelling with my baby. Now, everyone can back off.”

He shot his hot cum right into you, filling you up to the rim

Sorry for any mistakes. It’s 3:41am 😄

[citrusdarling7]

jealously

summary- Tom Riddle becomes jealous of reader’s boyfriend and decides to take matters into his own hands

warnings- smut, cheating, degrading, edging, and a bit of light choking. dom! tom, sub! reader

🗡—————————————————————🗡

I’ve never been much of a morning person, but for some reason I was up early today. I knew that I had a potions essay due tomorrow, and I was behind on it. Still in my silky nightgown, I assumed no one else would be in the common room. To my surprise, Abraxas was sitting in front of the fireplace. I smiled and tip-toed over to him, wrapping my arms around his chest from behind him. He squeezed one of my hands gently, acknowledging my presence.

“Darling, why are you up? It’s barely 5 am,” he told me softly. I rolled my eyes and swiveled around the couch so I could sit down next to him.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Malfoy. Oh my God, what happened to your face?” Even in the dim lighting of the Slytherin common room, I could see the dark purple bruises around one of his eyes. I gently reached up to try and touch him, but he turned his face to the side.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. Did you sleep well?” He tried to change the subject, but I didn’t let up.

“Brax, what the hell happened? Please tell me that the other guy looks worse,” I said while positioning myself closer to him. I gently ran a finger along his jawline in a comforting gesture. I could smell his sage wood cologne, which I absolutely adored.

“Truthfully darling, I think I’m lucky I walked away without him cursing me. He was absolutely livid after you left.”

Of course. I was such an idiot. Tom had done this to him.

Late last night, Abraxas and I were kissing in the corridor when we decided we wanted to go somewhere more private. Abraxas knows how to find the Room of Requirement, and he dragged me inside, still kissing my neck and holding onto my waist. Unfortunately for us, all of the other 6th year Slytherin boys were already there, brewing some type of illegal potion. Not only had Abraxas forgotten he was supposed to meet with them that night, but he had also exposed me to what was happening.

Although some people would believe so, I’m not naive to what goes on in this school. I know about Tom and his pursuits in dark magic. I know about their constant fights with those Gryffindors who all wear that one lion pin. But Tom seemed to believe that I had no prior knowledge of these secret meetings, and he instantly started yelling at us.

“Malfoy, you idiot! You are not supposed to bring back girls to this room, and certainly not when we’re in the middle of illicit activities!”

Rosier and Avery were still sitting by the cauldron, doing nothing to help the situation. I stepped away from Abraxas and turned towards Tom.

“Calm down, Riddle. You and your superiority complex need to learn that not everyone’s life revolves around yours,” I spat at him. Tom took a step closer to me, and I instinctively reached to pull out my wand. Before I had a chance to, I felt the back of my head being slammed against the wall, Tom’s hand gripping my throat tightly. Abraxas and Rosier both shouted for Tom to let go of me, but I just smiled. I stared him down, letting him know that I wasn’t afraid of him.

“You’re not allowed to speak to me that way,” he growled.

“I can speak to you any way I want Tommy.” His eyes looked as if he wanted to strangle me, but I saw the trace of a smile play across his lips. He abruptly let go of me and turned towards Abraxas.

“You need to keep your girlfriend under control. Get out of here.” Abraxas quickly grabbed my hand and started to pull me towards the door.

“Not you, Malfoy. Your presence is still required here.” I opened my mouth to tell him off again, but Abraxas quickly shook his head.

“Go back to the common room, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” I reluctantly sighed, but figured that I shouldn’t piss Tom off even more. I should have known that Tom would still be angry with Abraxas.

Flashing back to present time, I turned around to look towards the boys dormitories. Abraxas could tell what I was thinking, so he gently squeezed my hand.

“Leave it alone, dearest. He was fine the rest of the night, confronting him will just make him mad again. I don’t want you to get hurt, my love.”

I’m not one to back down easily, and I constantly let my temper get the best of me. But Abraxas’ soft touch against my leg and heart-felt words relaxed me a bit.

“Alright. I won’t say anything. Have you done Slughorn’s essay yet?”

We spent the next hour or so alone in the common room, trying to hastily finish up homework. By the time that others started waking up, I was sitting in his lap, my hands in his hair as we kissed passionately.

“You two are disgusting. 20 points from Slytherin,” a cold voice said. I rolled my eyes and gave Abraxas a quick peck on the lips before sliding off of him and back onto the couch. Tom was Head Boy, and he had no problem with taking points from his own house. He had a lot of nerve as well. Almost every single night I watched him drag some girl into his room. She always left limping a few hours later, and Tom never spoke to her again.

“Put some clothes on. You’re dressed like a whore,” he spat at me. I scoffed at him, but got up to head back to my room anyways. As I slipped on my school robes and brushed out my hair, I couldn’t stop thinking about Tom.

The rest of the day went by pretty quickly. I managed to get through all of my classes without speaking a word to Tom. After watching the Slytherin quidditch team practice while gossiping with Lestrange, I sat with Rosier and Abraxas in the common room. Rosier made me play chess with him, beating me every single time. This was strange, since I considered myself an excellent chess player. I guess I was just a little distracted. Abraxas excused himself to his dorm room, saying that he had a ton of homework to do. He gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek before leaving.

“Something on your mind?” Rosier asked me. I sighed and slumped down in my chair.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m still kind of upset about what happened with Tom. Why do you guys let him treat you all so awfully?”

“It’s not as simple as that. Being friends with Riddle has advantages and disadvantages. The occasional hex or punch to the face isn’t much of a price to pay.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

“One of these days I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch,” I said with a grin. Rosier chuckled and patted my arm.

“Good luck with that.”

A few hours later I was lying in my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I had been trying desperately to fall asleep. But something was still on the back of my mind, and that something was preventing me from being able to relax. I let out a sigh and rolled out of bed. I slipped out of my room and quietly walked down the stairs, into the common room. I then made my way up the stairs leading to the boys dormitory. I took a deep breath before knocking on the door at the end of the hallway. He opened the door, and my nostrils were instantly filled with the smell of smoke. Tom stood inches away from me, still in his school uniform. He was holding a lit cigarette between his fingers.

“Did you need something, sweetheart?” I rolled my eyes at his stupid pet-name.

“You are absolutely insane, Riddle! You walk around this damn school like you own the place, and I’m sick of it.” He smiled and offered out his arm to me.

“If you’re going to yell at me, then you might as well do it behind closed doors,” he offered. I didn’t take his hand, but I did step inside and let him shut the door behind me. Since he was Head Boy, his room was bigger than all of ours. I could see that his window was open, probably because of the smoke. His bed had black silky sheets adorning it, and I could see all of the books on his desk were neatly stacked. His box of cigarettes was laying on his nightstand.

“So did you come here just to tell me off or did you want a smoke as well?” he taunted.

I turned around to face him again.

“I want you to stop hitting my boyfriend. And the rest of the boys. You have to learn how to respect others.” He chuckled darkly while taking a step towards me.

“Darling, that’s a pretty demanding request. My respect has to be earned.” In an attempt to look more confident, I crossed my arms across my chest.

“You’re such a child, Tom. I don’t know why you think that everyone worships you!” I shouted at him. He quickly wrapped his free hand around my neck and pushed me against the wall. He flicked his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out.

“That’s because everyone does. Everyone except you it seems.” I don’t know why Tom had this constant need to slam me up against the wall and choke me. It didn’t make me afraid of his dumbass.

Honestly, it was kind of hot. He brought his other hand up to my face and he touched my cheek softly.

“Did you and Malfoy ever finish what you started yesterday?” It took me a moment to realize that he was asking if we had fucked.

“That’s none of your business,” I snapped at him. He tightened his grip on my throat and used one of his legs to pin down mine.

“Answer my question.”

“No, I haven’t slept with him. Why do you care?” Tom brought his head down to my neck and whispered into my ear.

“Because I’m not into sloppy seconds.” Before I had a chance to mention the fact that he probably had over twenty bodies, he started kissing me roughly. I kissed him back and wrapped my leg around one of his. I let him suck on my neck as he pushed my thin nightgown up my leg and slipped one of his hands under it. He started to slowly rub circles on my thigh. He continued to suck on my neck as I tried to grind against him. He growled and used his other hand to push my waist back against the wall.

“None of that. Do you want me to touch you, darling?” he asked in a mocking tone. I nodded and he slipped his fingers into my underwear.

“Someone’s a needy little slut,” he whispered. Part of me wanted to call him a man-whore, but the part of me that valued my life kept me quiet. I felt him push two fingers inside me and I whimpered. He started to rub my clit with his thumb as he thrusted his fingers in and out of me. He started kissing my neck again as I moaned quietly. He was going incredibly slow, making me desperate for every touch. At a particularly sharp pressure, one of my legs twitched and I had to bite my lip to stop from making noise. Tom chuckled and tilted my chin towards him.

“Didn’t you come here to yell at me? Are you going to yell at me now, darling?” He started to rub me faster, which made it difficult for me to even speak.

“I hate you,” I was able to mutter. He laughed and pinched my waist roughly, making me jump. After only a few minutes, I was starting to get close to my peak. I felt my legs start to shake as I bit my lip to stifle my moans. Tom noticed this, so he stopped touching me. I frowned as he leaned down to whisper into my ear.

“Did you really think I was going to let you come that quickly?”

Before I had the chance to respond, he grabbed my legs and spun me around, pushing me onto his bed. He quickly tugged my nightgown off of me and started to take off his shirt. I tried to reach up and help him, but he used his free hand to push me back onto the bed. He quickly unbuckled his belt and kicked his pants off before getting on top of me. I felt his member pressing against my thigh. He wrapped a hand around my throat again and used the other hand to gently rub one of my hips.

“Is this what you want? Me to fuck you senseless while your boyfriend sleeps two rooms over?” I felt him rub against my clit, teasing me purposefully. I decided that I wouldn’t tell him that me and Abraxas weren’t actually dating until later.

“Tom-”

“Shut up,” he growled before thrusting into me sharply. As he rocked into me, I definitely felt a bit of pain. He was bigger than what I was used to, but I was adjusting quickly. I tried to rest my arms on his shoulders, but he didn’t like that. He pinned my hands above my head and started to attack my neck with his mouth.

“If you do that again, I’ll tie you down. Don’t test me,” he muttered. He continued to rail into me over and over, hitting me at just the right angle. In less than ten minutes I was close again. I tightly clenched the sheets and tried to grind my hips against his to alleviate some of the tension. That’s when he slipped out of me with a grin.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he said while stroking my hair.

“Are you fucking serious?” I complained.

“Completely. Be a good girl and maybe I’ll let you finish before the night is over.”

I will admit, his self-control was pretty impressive. Most guys wouldn’t be able to handle pulling out before they had finished. But I also figured that he was just bluffing. There was no way he would be able to do this for more than twenty minutes. After 30 or so seconds of him attacking my mouth with his tongue, he thrusted into me again. This time his strokes were a bit slower and more gentle. He rubbed one of my arms lightly as he made me shiver at his touch.

“Tom, oh my God,” I moaned into his neck. I assumed he was going to tell me to shut up, but I guess he liked knowing how good he was making me feel.

“That’s right, darling. You like this?” I nodded my head as he pressed soft kisses against my jawline. I was definitely pleased with his change of pace. The slow stroked and gentle kisses made this feel a bit more like a normal thing. But of course, that didn’t last very long. Once he was done leaving hickies all over my neck, he wrapped his hand around it. He started to press himself deeper inside of me, rocking me into his bed. I whimpered as he hit a spot that made my legs twitch.

“Quiet, slut,” he demanded. I tilted my head slightly away from him, trying to stifle my moans with one of his pillows. I was panting at this point, desperately gripping onto the sheets.

“Could Malfoy make you feel this good?”

“Yeah, if I was with him I would’ve came by now,” I thought to myself. However, I shook my head in an attempt to appease him.

“That’s right. Should I let you finish now?” I nodded and he jerked my face back towards him. “Alright. Beg for it.” That actually made me laugh. There was no way I was going to give into him that easily. Tom shrugged and continued to pound into me. “Be difficult then. I don’t care either way.”

I bit down my lip to muffle a scream as my stomach flipped and my legs shook. Right when I was about to be sent over the edge, he pulled out of me again. By now, I was completely fed up with him. I tried to bring one of my hands down between my legs, but he was quicker than me. He grabbed both of my arms and roughly pinned them above my head.

“I don’t think so, dear. I want the whole hallway to hear you screaming my name,” he said while stroking my cheek tauntingly.

“Good luck with that,” I said with an eye roll.

“You’re mine now. No one gets to touch you but me,” he muttered into my ear before thrusting into me again. By now I could see finger-shaped bruises starting to form on my waist. We had been going at it for at least 35 minutes, and my body was aching for release. I was confident that he had left at least 5 or so hickies on my neck, which I was not looking forward to having to cover up tomorrow. Out of instinct, I tried to move my leg around his to adjust the angle. Tom slammed me down onto his bed roughly.

“Don’t fucking move,” he growled. He pressed one of his thumbs against my clit, making me whimper. I was so frustrated that tears had started to stream down my face. Tom gently wiped them away with his free hand.

“Are you gonna apologize for yelling at me earlier?” he asked in a snarl. I shook my head, which made him chuckle.

“That’s what I thought. If you’re gonna be like that, you clearly haven’t learned your lesson.” He started to kiss roughly at my collar, obviously trying to mark me more. After a few minutes of listening to me whine and pant, he decided to give me another chance.

“Promise me you’ll stop hanging around Malfoy,” he said softly. That kind of threw me for a loop.

“What? Why?” He nibbled on my ear lobe and thrusted into me sharply.

“You’re my little slut now. I don’t want him touching you. Promise me.” I instinctively shook my head, which only made his thrusts even harder.

“Promise me, darling. Like I said, I can go all night.” I really, really wanted to keep my mouth shut. But I was so overwhelmed, I couldn’t take much more.

“Fine. I promise. Please Tom, I-”

He bit down on my lip and thrusted into me at the perfect angle and speed.

Over-and-over again.

I moaned his name as well as a stream of profanities as waves of pleasure tore through my body. My legs were shaking so bad that he had to actually hold them down. While I was riding out my high, Tom muttered praises into my ear. I was so extremely sensitive that every touch set off fireworks against my skin.

“Take me like a good girl,” he said before roughly grabbing my throat. It took him a few minutes to finish himself off, but when he did it was so hot. He didn’t even bother to pull out. He continued to kiss me for a bit before he got up and started to walk towards his bathroom.

“Now, get the hell out of my room, whore.”

I smiled at his lovely term of endearment as I tried to quickly pull my clothing back on. I stood up quickly, and my legs gave out beneath me. Tom laughed as he put on his bathrobe.

“You’re pathetic,” he said while helping me up. Surprisingly enough, he walked me back to my dorm, smiling the entire way. Before he turned to leave he pushed a piece of hair behind my ear.

“Sleep well, darling.” I flashed him a sweet smile.

“You too, Riddle.”

[1987vampire]

A Good Something? | Judd Birch

Fandom: Big Mouth Word Count: 1.9k Warnings: a hurt racoon, the f slur, just a lot of cussing.  Request: None! A/N: This isn’t established Judd x reader, this is meeting him for the first time so if I write more fics for him, I have something I can refer y’all back to :) If y’all want to see more Judd, an ACTUAL judd x reader, I can give y’all that ALSO the reader has dyed hair in this - not blue - it’s not super important but there’s a line in here that references it.  Extra: 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” your words were stressed as you slammed on the breaks. The rain made it hard to see; it wasn’t your fault that the animal had run into the middle of the road. You weren’t even going that fast, they should have been able to hear you.

You flung your door open harsher than you meant to, but you had to move quickly in case someone came speeding down the road, and you ended up bleeding out right next to whatever you had hit. The road was slick underneath your feet. You almost slipped and fell as you skidded to a stop in front of them. It was a racoon, a fat one at that, and it was staring up at you with big doe eyes. His leg was twisted, and he was letting out small grunts of pain.

“Oh, I’m sorry, little buddy,” You cried. “Can I pick you up? I’ll find somewhere to take care of you, I promise.” You hadn’t really expected an answer- it was an animal after all – but he nodded up at you, reaching his little paws out in hopes that you would help. You paused for a moment, taking in the situation and trying to figure out how to pick him up without hurting him.

You reached an arm under his butt and the other under his neck so you wouldn’t jostle his leg too much. He made little chirping sounds as you steadily walked over to your car, using your head as a shield so he wouldn’t get rain in his eyes. You let out a quiet stream of ‘I’m sorry’s as you did so. You made it into your car just in time to close the door as someone sped down, narrowly missing you as they went.

The little racoon shivered in the passenger seat, but you covered him in blankets and spare clothes you kept in the back, turning the heat in your car on high, trying to dry him and heat him up at the same time. He stared up at you thankfully as you put the car in gear, driving home even slower than before, never going over twenty-five-miles-an-hour.

Once you had reached your apartment, you had to sneak him in in hopes that your shitty landlord wouldn’t notice. He had a strict no animals policy, but this was a bit more important. Fortunately, you could sneak past his office by telling the raccoon to be quiet, since he seemed to be good at listening to directions somehow, and hiding him underneath the pile of clothes, passing him off as laundry.

Finally, inside the comforts of your apartment, you laid him down on the couch and set to researching what to do. After a few calls to a few vet offices and a lot of google searches, you were able to give him a makeshift cast and lay him in a way that would be best for his recovery. He was still talking in his little racoon language as you went. It really looked like he was trying to tell you something, but unfortunately, you were human and could not understand him.

That was until he held your hand in his little paws and pulled them to his neck. How had you not noticed the skinny collar he was wearing? His thick fur had almost completely covered it. Really, it wasn’t even a collar but a thick piece of cord with a circle nameplate in the middle.

You fiddled with it, reading the information attached. ‘Contact Judd. 555-4200’ was engraved onto it in someone’s personal handwriting instead of with a machine. “You know it’s illegal for someone to own a racoon around here, right,” you told him. The racoon made a noise of disapproval and fiddled with the collar again. “Do you want me to take it off?” He hissed in displeasure, making you stop abruptly. “Call him?” He nodded enthusiastically. “You’re a strange little guy, you know that, right?”

You pulled out your phone and dialed the number, tapping your foot against the floor anxiously. It took a few rings, and you were sure he wouldn’t pick up, when a deep voice answered the phone.

“Do you know what fucking time it is, right now?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you turned towards the first clock you could find—three o’clock in the morning. “I- I’m sorry. I can call back in the morning if you want. I just have this racoon with me, and his ankle is twisted because I accidentally hit him, and he had your number on his neck, and I- I-“

“Racoon?” His voice cut you off, and you could tell that he was waking up at the information. “You hit one of my fucking racoons?”

“He ran out into the middle of the road when I was driving. It was raining, so I could barely see, and I couldn’t swerve to miss him because there was a car on one side of the road and trees on the other. I wrapped his leg, and he’s resting, but he wanted me to call you, so here we are.”

He let out a few grumbles, and my fingers instinctively rose to my face so I could bite at my nails. “Fucking hell. Why was he in the middle of the road?” It was a rhetorical question, but you had almost wanted to respond even though you didn’t have an answer. “Does he have any distinctive marks on him? A missing toe, clipped ear, maybe he has uneven stripes.” Your eyes fell on the racoon again. He looked pretty normal besides the leg.

Almost like he knew what you were talking about, the racoon pulled one of his hands up to his forehead. After you pushed some of his fur to the side, you knew what he was pointing at. “He’s showing me that he has a scar on his forehead - like he split his forehead or something.”

“Of course it’s fucking Gerard – the fat fuck.”

You frowned at the statement. “He’s not that fat.”

“I mean the sentence in the most loving hatred filled way I can mean it. He knows I don’t mean it. Can you give the phone to him?”

This was the weirdest fucking situation you had ever been in. “Oh yeah, I guess.” you placed the phone in the racoon’s hand, and he made a chirp as a hello. You could hear Judd’s voice lowly in the speaker as he talked to him, the racoon making noises of acknowledgement as he went. You could make out very little besides him asking if you were taking care of him and then berating him for being stupid. The racoon – well, Gerard – kept trying to talk to him, but Judd refused to let up, barely giving him a moment to speak even if he did understand him.

After a few minutes, Gerard pushed the phone towards me, and I took it back. “So, what do you want me to do with him. Like, I can take him to yours, since I guess he belongs to you, or-“

“Fuck off. What are you – the feds? Give me your address, I’m not letting you see my shit.”

“Well, usually people ask me on a date before seeing my place, but-“ the words had slipped from my mouth before I thought about what I was saying, and my eyes immediately widened with embarrassment. “Oh my god- I’m sorry-“

He laughed loudly and pulled the phone away from his ear. “Well, we can think about that after I get the fat fucking faggot in your house.”

Your arms crossed. “You better part of that community if you’re using their slurs, fuckface.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he mused. “Give me your address. I’m getting in my car.”

After giving him the information, you hung up, itching at your arm as you stared at Gerard. “He isn’t very nice, huh,” you told him. He chirped and shook his head as if defending him. “Is he really mean or is it a front?” He chirped at the second part, and I smiled. “Well, he’ll be here soon.”

And soon it was. It only took him about ten minutes before you heard a loud knocking on your door, banging more like. You jumped from sitting beside Gerard to the door, peeking out into the dark hallway, the latch still connected. “Judd?”

On the other side of the door was a decently tall man with black and blue hair, his sides shaved til it was only stubble. He was clad in a gray hoodie and black jeans, gray converse on his feet. His face was set in a glare as he stared at you. “Who the fuck else would it be?”

You shut the door and unlatched it, opening it wider so he could come in. “You knock like my landlord.”

“Landlord?” He pushed into your apartment, his sights set on the racoon lounging on your cheap couch. “You don’t look old enough to have a landlord.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m nineteen. This is my apartment.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder. “And you let some strange man in? Pretty stupid if you ask me.”

You frowned and pursed your lips. “I can kick you out- keep your racoon if you don’t start acting nice.”

“You could definitely try.” He picked up Gerard’s leg, inspecting it. “You did a good job with this. Almost as good as my work.”

“He was a good patient.”

Judd scoffed, sticking his hands underneath Gerard to pick him up just as you had earlier that night. “He was probably just basking in a pretty girl’s attention.”

Pretty? A smile was climbing onto your face. He was pretty, too, if he didn’t have such a sour attitude.

His eyes fell onto yours as he turned. “I like your hair by the way. The color suits you.” You ran your hand through your dyed hair, suddenly very conscious of how you looked. “You should try blue next time.” Gerard made a loud noise in his arms and reached out to you. Judd frowned down at him. “You had your fun, dumbass, but you’ve got to go home now. I’m sure the others are worried about you.”

“Others?”

Judd looked back at you. “Yeah, I was – uh – training a battalion of racoons to kill my younger brother.” He groaned quietly. “Now they’re good for catering and attacking intruders, but they refused to hurt him. Got a few scars because of it.”

You chuckled quietly and shook your head. “You sure are something, alright.”

His lips upturned the slightest bit into a tiny smile. “Is that a good something?”

“Sure, we can say that.”

You opened the door for him as he started taking strides towards it. He paused right past the entryway, something sitting on his tongue. “Try not to hit any more racoons, alright?”

Your fingers drummed along the door, and you laughed. “I’ll be sure to call you if I do. Just in case.”

He was already walking away when he responded. “You have my number.”

You hesitated on shutting the door right away, choosing to listen to him begin to berate the racoon as he walked down the hall, something along the lines of, ‘you make me come out in the middle of the night, scared shitless. You could have died, you fucking cunt.” He continued as he disappeared out of sight, but you didn’t even have the heart to ask him to cover the racoon as he left, preferring to just deal with your landlords berating the next day.

[mizunetzu]

wait okay i have so many ideas you have no clue- okay so basically y/n is too scared to confess to either ushijima or shinsou (you decide lol) so he just puts love notes in his locker :)) but ushijima/shinsou catches him one day so he teases him about it but he liked y/n too so he lowkey confesses and its super fluffy i- 🥺🥺 i've had this idea for so long but i have no clue where to start writing it myself lolll

Guess who...took 4 months...to do Mr. Shinsoussimps request...not me...ahahaha...what are you talking about...BUT ANYWAYS IM SO SORRY MR SHINSOU PLS TAKE THIS FIC AS MY APOLOGIES

——————

Ushijima x reader - Secret Admirer Love Letter-kun!

⚠️warnings - none

Pronouns- male, he/him

——————

(Y/n’s) hands shook as he traced the linings of his love letter.

It had a red, heart-shaped sticker on the seal flap, with the words ‘To Ushijima-san’ written in royal purple across the back. The letter had slight crinkles from the shaky grip (Y/n) held it with.

His heart raced purely thinking about how Ushijima would react. Would he even react? Or would he just look at him with that blank stare and walk past him? Would he be ridiculed for being a man giving a love letter to another man?

Every single intrusive thought made (Y/n) want to tear up the letter and flush it down a toilet. Nonetheless, he stood next to Ushijima’s locker, waiting for him to appear.

His legs shook. His heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest. He could physically feel the sweat running down his forehead. He was probably gaining stares from other students for standing near Ushijima’s locker and panicking silently.

All these ‘what-if’s’ was beginning to make (Y/n) second-guess his decision. Maybe he couldn’t do this after all...

No! He had to! He’s been harboring his feelings for Ushijima for years now, and he was getting nowhere! Even if it was rejection, and he certainly hoped it was not, he needed an answer!

Just as if right on cue, (Y/n) heard the familiar deep voice of Ushijima coming down the hall. He wasn’t saying much, but the accompanied grunts of acknowledgement to Tendou’s ramblings was enough proof it was him. Without thinking, (Y/n’s) panic took over him, shoving his love letter into Ushijima’s locker and dashing out of the way.

He blended himself in with the gaggle of students near their lockers, watching Ushijima as he opened his own locker.

“Ara?” Tendou cocked his head when the letter (Y/n) slipped in fluttered out. It landed on the floor gracefully. Ushijima bent over and plucked it off the ground.

“Our Wakatoshi~kun has a secwet admiwer?” Tendou squashed his face together and boared curious eyes into the heart-shaped sticker on the note. Ushijima grunted.

“It seems to be a love letter.” Ushijima’s low voice sent even more panic through (Y/n). He didn’t want to be there while he opened the letter. But here he was, 10 feet away from him as he carefully peeled off the heart sticker from the envelope.

Ushijima’s eyes silently scanned the letter, it’s meticulous, thought-out writing filling Ushijima’s eyes. The silence rang so, so loud to (Y/n), as he watched Ushijima read his love letter with his emotionless face.

After what seemed like forever, Ushijima lifted his head up from the note. (Y/n’s) heart stopped.

“It is a love letter.” (Y/n), and Tendou, deadpanned.

Tendou reached for the letter. “Fiiiiine, then let me see-!”

Ushijima pulled the letter away, raising it above his head and out of Tendou’s easy reach. He lowered the letter and cradled it to his chest.

“No. It’s mine.”

(Y/n’s) heart fluttered. Could this mean-?

“But it does, however, have no name.”

“Awh. Poor Wakatoshi-kun’s admirer must be rewwy shy~”

(Y/n) internally facepalmed. Of course he forgot to sign the note! Why wouldn’t he?! (Y/n) crinkled up his nose. He was still determined to get his feelings to Ushijima.

He turned around, and walked to class. The next day, for sure, he was going to give him a love letter with his signature on it this time.

——

(Y/n) stared down at his paper, then shifted his eyes to the alarm clock sitting tauntingly at his dorm room’s desk, with the bright red numbers 10:35 pm glaring so menacingly at him. Like it was telling him to hurry up and sign the new love letter he just wrote. (Y/n) re-read the letter on his desk for the 6th time that night.

Everything was perfect. It explained his feelings perfectly, explained how long he’d been smitten for him for, hell, he even doodled a small picture of Ushijima himself with a heart next to it in the corner of the page.

Everything was there, except his name.

Did he really want to put his name, though? I mean, (Y/n) saw how...endearing Ushiwaka’s face looked reading his original letter. What if he ruined that when he finds out it was him who wrote it? And not some cute girl?

(Y/n) stared at the empty space on the page where his name was supposed to go. His hand gripped his pencil tighter than he should’ve, and began to write.

‘(L/n) (Y/...’

He stopped. (Y/n) thought about it for awhile, then grabbed his eraser and scrubbed at the name until it was pristine white again.

‘Your secret admirer’

Was all he wrote.

He packaged up the note in another small envelope, pressed a cute little heart sticker to the flap, and went to bed.

——

The next day, (Y/n) made sure to rush to school early to slip the note in his locker. He wanted to see his reaction to his new note. It made him feel sorta high. What kind of face would he make? Would he be delighted? He hoped he would.

(Y/n) crammed the note into Ushiwaka’s locker. No one was around. Good. No one saw him shove the letter through, therefore no one could tell Ushijima it was him. (Y/n) sighed contently, and timpered off somewhere secluded, but somewhere he could still see Ushijima and his locker.

After scrolling on his phone for what seemed like an hour, he heard Tendou’s familiar voice, humming a strange song and trailing next to Ushijima. It was his daily indicator that Ushijima was near. If he could hear Tendou coming, almost 100% Ushijima would be there too. (Y/n) pocketed his phone quickly and peeked behind a row of lockers.

Ushijima silently unhinged his locker, listening to Tendou talk. However, they fell silent when another letter fluttered out from his locker, this time landing so perfectly in his hands.

“Ara ara? Another note from Admirer-chan?”

“Yes. But I know it’s a boy, Tendou.”

(Y/n’s) heart dropped. He watched as Ushiwaka peeled off the heart sticker once more, while continuing his conversation with Tendou.

“Oh yeah? How so?”

Ushijima stopped, and reached into his locker once more. He pulled out (Y/n’s) previous note, and pointed to a line of text scribbled on there so neatly. Tendou raised his eyebrow, and leaned down to inspect the note.

‘-Besides, there’s no way someone as amazing as you can like a guy like me. It’s weird right? I hope you don’t think it’s weird. But I wouldn’t blame you.’

“Ahhhh~ makes sense...” Tendou hooked his arms dramatically over the back of his head. “But do you? Does Wakatoshi-kun think Secret Admirer-kun is weird?”

Ushijima traced the two love letters with his eyes. “I think he’s brave.”

(Y/n) clutched his tightening chest. It suddenly became really hard to breathe. How was Ushijima being so unintentionally sweet?

Tendou cooed. “Awwww, Is our Wakatoshi-kun catching feelings for his Admirer-kun?”

Ushijima folded the two notes back into their envelopes silently. He said nothing to Tendou’s remarks, while gently placing the two love letters back into a safe spot in his locker.

(Y/n) brisk-walked away, flustered, before he could hear his answer.

——

Writing notes and hiding them in Ushijima’s locker became a sort of habit for (Y/n) in the past few weeks.

Every now and then, he’d write a short love letter signed “Your Secret Admirer” or “Admirer-kun” and slip it under Ushijima’s dorm room door or the cracks between his locker. It became an addiction of watching him unravel the note with the tenderness of an angel. For such a big dude, he held each love letter (Y/n) wrote him with such delicacy.

(Y/n) walked with a pep in his step as he arrived to the school building early, like he’d usually been doing. He’d recently been writing small letters, playground compliments like “I think you look nice today!” or “the way you play volleyball gets me all fired up!” but this was the first time in a while he wrote a good chunk of his feelings out.

At first he thought he would make Ushijima uncomfortable, but after many of his personal notes filled with the most wonderful explanations of his feelings, or rambling about dates he’d like to take him on, he’s grown more comfortable with it. Especially after seeing the teeny tiny, barely noticeable blush tinting his cheeks as he read them.

(Y/n) stopped in front of Ushiwaka’s locker. It was a familiar stop, after cramming in letter after letter inside for about a month or two now. It’s been so long that (Y/n) couldn’t even remember himself.

Just as his hand met with the cold metal locker to slip the note in, two hands slammed down on (Y/n’s) shoulders, effectively scaring him shitless.

“I’ve caught you! Secret admirer-kun!”

“Uwaaaah!”

Tendou made a show of flamboyantly pointing his lanky fingers at (Y/n), bending his back father then (Y/n) knew was possible in the process. (Y/n) jittered, swinging his hands in front of him while stuttering incoherently.

“I-it-its not-! It’s not wh-what it-! T-the letter-I was just-I-!”

“There’s no use for it now, Secret-Admirer (L/n)-kun! You’ve been caught red handed!” Tendou stuck his tongue out heartily while (Y/n) broke into a cold sweat. If Tendou kept yelling the whole damn school would hear him.

“I-I’m not the one leaving notes in Ushijima-kun’s locker! I was just-!”

“Oya? Then how did you know Wakatoshi-kun was gettin’ notes in his locker in the first place?” Tendou eyed him down half jokingly. (Y/n) sputtered.

“More importantly...” Tendou dramatically pointed to the envelope half-sticking out from the slits of Ushijima’s locker. “Whaaaaats that!?”

“That’s-!”

There was no use fighting Tendou on this. (Y/n) deflated, defeated and grasping on to the wall of lockers for support. “Uuuuu...”

“So, Secret Admirer-“

“S-stop calling me that! Just (L/n) is fine-!”

“-Secret Admirer-kun, what made you fancy our lovely Wakatoshi-kun?”

(Y/n) turned around, facing the locker as Tendou smiled his usual, Tendou-grin. (Y/n) didn’t wanna look at Tendou and his stupid knowing smirk.

“He’s just...I dunno, he’s just so-cool...and stuff...and he’s so nice...looking...”

“Ah, such sophisticated words-tell me, do you write all of this down in the letters you give him?”

“Hey!” (Y/n) whipped his head around.

Tendou chuckled, and part of (Y/n) wanted to smack him upside the head. Tendous laughter eventually died down, as he pretended to wipe a tear from his cheek. He looked back at (Y/n), who was blushing profusely and had his arms crossed.

“Phew...haha...” Tendou cleared his throat. He pointed straight at (Y/n). “Now, here’s some ultra wise words from Satori-sama!” He mimicked a fake drum roll on his lap, before pointing at (Y/n) again.

“Ja-jun~! You should Wakatoshi-kun how you feel about him!”

(Y/n’s) heart got stuck in his throat. ��A-are you crazy! I could never! I-I’m not...I’m not...I’m scared..”

“Hm? But you’re not scared to write about how much you wanna kiss him alllllllll oveeeeeer-?”

“That’s different!” (Y/n) yelled, more quietly this time. He turned back to the locker, and tipped the rest of the note in sticking out inside the slit. The note disappeared through the gap, just like all of its predecessors. “Like this, I can tell him how much I love him without him knowing it was from me! What if he’s disappointed it’s me and not some other dude?”

“I’m veeeeeery sure he won’t be. But suit yourself, I guess.” Tendou shrugged. He turned around and left, but not before saying,

“But you’d better tell him yourself before he finds out from someone else.”

“Wait-what does that mea-“

(Y/n) looked back, only to find Tendou gone. (Y/n) stood there, perplexed, before dashing off to his own locker, so he wouldn’t be spotted near Ushijima’s.

——

Everyday when (Y/n) went to slip another note into Ushiwaka’s locker, Tendou’s words would ring in his mind.

‘You’d better tell him yourself before he finds out from someone else.’

He knew that. He knew that but he couldn’t stop himself from cowardly slipping notes into Ushijima’s locker, just to run and take cover as he opened them up. And one time he could swear Tendou was looking right at him in his hiding spot when Ushijima was reading one of his letter.

(Y/n) shook the thoughts from his head. That happened 3 days ago, and nothing happened. Tendou was probably just trying to scare him into telling him. Yeah. There’s no way anyone could’ve found out about him being Ushijima’s secret admirer.

He huffed and strode up to Ushijima’s locker, just like he did every time before that. No one was in the hallway. There was no footsteps, at least to (Y/n’s) knowledge, and Tendou wasn’t around with his booming voice. If (Y/n) could hear Tendou coming, chances are Ushijima was not too far behind.

Tendou wasn’t there. (Y/n) was safe. He smiled and rose the letter up to the slot in Ushijima’s locker. He slowly crammed the note in, slowly, slowly until-

Slam!

A large, calloused hand slammed against the locker, making (Y/n) jolt up in surprise. (Y/n’s) heart stopped beating. He felt someone lean against his ear, and then they whispered:

“So Tendou was right. You were the one leaving the letters in my locker.”

“Ushijima-kun-!”

(Y/n) whipped his head around by the speed of lightning, pressing himself against the locker wall as if he’d disappear into it. Stupid fucking Tendou! Of course he’d tell Ushijima!

Ushiwaka didn’t move from his spot in front of (Y/n). His arm outstretched on the wall beside (Y/n) didn’t falter either, making him blush even more. God, he wanted to disappear.

The letter, now hidden crudely behind (Y/n) sweaty back, was being smushed as he tried shrinking in on himself.

“I-I-“ (Y/n’s) mouth ran dry. “It’s not what it looks like-!”

“Hm.” Ushijima’s deep voice manage to startle (Y/n), despite being right infront of him. God, he was close. So close. He’s too close. Oh god, why is he so close?

Ushijima suddenly grabbed (Y/n’s) hand, making him sputter in surprise as Ushijima pulled it out gently. A letter with a red heart sticker on the flap was wedged in between (Y/n’s) shaky, sweaty fingers. Ushijima looked at the envelope, while (Y/n) averted his embarrassed eyes.

“...But it’s exactly what it looks like.”

Words perished in (Y/n’s) throat. If the locker would just open up and swallow him whole, now was the time.

Ushiwaka plucked the note out of (Y/n’s) hands, ignoring the small protests of (Y/n) himself. He tried to grab for the letter, but Ushijima held the envelope high above his head and grabbed at (Y/n’s) shivering wrists. (Y/n) squeaked.

“...why are you trying to grab it back if this letter was meant for me in the first place?” Ushijima looked oblivious to (Y/n’s) embarrassment. (Y/n) croaked. He didn’t even register what Ushiwaka said with how strong and warm his grip on his wrists were.

He didn’t realize Ushijima managed to peel off the heart sticker and fish out the note with his hand until he started reading the letter. His eyes scanned the words, even when (Y/n) quietly squirmed protestingly in his grasp.

“Mm.” Ushijima hummed. (Y/n’s) eyes widened when he realized what he wrote in today’s note.

‘Y’know, I think you’re really cool with how you’re so dedicated to your club. But maybe...one day we could grab a bite to eat after your club activities? Just you and me? And maybe if I’m lucky enough I just might get a kiss from the amazing Ushijima Wakatoshi-kun~’

(Y/n) wanted no more but to die then and there. Ushijima looked at (Y/n) with an unreadable gaze.

“Ah. So it seems in today’s letter, you would like to go out for food and kiss. I am free after club activities today at 6. Are you free at that time or must we reschedule?”

(Y/n) met Ushijima’s state with a confused face. He said nothing-he couldn’t say anything. All he could do was muster up a weak “w-wha..?”

“So...you are not free today...?” Ushijima’s face was normal, but he gave off the same vibe a sad, kicked puppy would. It was sorta cute. (Y/n) waved his hands around frantically in Ushijima’s grasp.

“N-no! That’s not it! I-I’m free! I’m totally free! I just-“

“You just what?” Ushijima cocked his head to the side bluntly. (Y/n) opened his mouth to say something, but let it clamp shut quietly.

(Y/n) averted his gaze. “Well...you don’t think it’s...weird that I was the one leaving you love letters?”

“But I already knew you were a man in the first place.”

“Still!” Ushijima was genuinely confused. (Y/n’s) voice died down a bit.

“Aren’t you...y’know...disappointed?”

Ushijima’s gaze never left (Y/n’s) eyes. “Why would I be disappointed?”

“I’m...w-well...it’s just...”

Ushiwaka placed his free hand on the other side of (Y/n’s) face, effectively trapping him in between his arms. Ushijima’s heavy gaze was too much to bear. (Y/n) instinctively averted his gaze away.

“You still haven’t given me a valid reason to be disappointed.”

“I-“

“You’re lovely, I believe you are very attractive, and you leave nice letters of encouragement in my locker everyday.”

“Wait-“

“I believe we both have feelings for each other. Therefore, I do not see why you are so hesitant on just doing what today’s lovely note said.”

“Ushi-“

“Is this just an excuse to turn me down? Were the letters not your true feelings? Because if so you just have to say so-“

“Ushijima-kun!”

(Y/n) rasped out between his fingers. He was covering his blushing face, and Ushijima didn’t know why until he realized his face was centimeters away from (Y/n’s). If it weren’t for (Y/n’s) hands cupping his face, they’d probably be able to kiss with one push closer.

“P-ple-please s-step back...”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Ushijima moved back, but didn’t quite move his arms from their positions on either side of (Y/n). He blinked. Silence engulfed them both, Ushijima bluntly staring at (Y/n) as he blushed and blushed into his hands.

Ushijima figured he should say something, and even open his mouth to speak when (Y/n) suddenly piped up, bringing his hands down from his face.

“I-I’m free...at 6...”

Ushijima blinked again.

“Ah. Today?”

“Yeah..!”

“Lovely. It is decided then. Will you wait for me at the gym after practice? If not I can pick you up from your dorm room.”

(Y/n) fought the urge to pinch his arm to see if he was dreaming or not. “I-I can meet you at the gym!”

Ushijima smiled gently, and that’s probably the first time (Y/n’s) seen him smile ever. It was so coaxing, relaxed and warm, (Y/n) wanted to take of picture of it and just stare at it for days. Ushijima let his hands fall to his sides. Not before giving a pat to (Y/n’s) head.

“It is decided then. It’s a date.”

(Y/n) had to remind himself to thank Tendou later.

——————

Lowkey this was so fun to write~ why don’t y’all leave some love in the comments because of that~~?

[byunmyeon]

Philophobia

↳ pairing: lee suho x reader

↳ synopsis: in a world where a red string connects soulmates, everyone knows who they belong with. except you, who hasn’t been able to see your string since you were a kid.

↳ warnings: language (like one word), a copious amount of angst and heartbreak

— note: there’s a serious lack of suho fics out there so I decided to write my own. lmk if you guys want me to write a second part!

There was something inexplicably eerie about being the new girl in a school that was twice the size of your old one. Not because it was an unfamiliar setting, nor was it because you were painfully shy and terrible at making friends. It wasn’t even your disparaging insecurities that had you feeling so shook. No, it was something you couldn’t put your finger on, something you couldn’t begin to name. A discomfort you could feel all the way down to your bones.

Your inordinate unease swelled into full blown panic with every step you took toward your new classroom. Somewhere in your unorganized mind, you could hear your mom’s reassuring voice. Everything will be okay. You didn’t know if her words held any truth, but you really, really, really hoped she was right. You were being stupid, honestly. There was nothing to fear, but you couldn’t shake the foreboding feeling from your stature. Despite all the undesirable emotions you felt, your breathing was normal and your heartbeat was steady.

It took you a minute to gather yourself. You could do this.

After a very ineffectual pep talk, you finally got your feet to move. Your eyes were cast down as you entered the classroom. The rowdy classroom went silent once your presence became known. You swallowed the nerves and chanced a glance at your new classmates. The reactions were a mixture of curiosity and disinterest.

When your teacher introduced you to the class, you decided to really look at your new classmates. Among the sea of unfamiliar faces, one stuck out. An unnaturally attractive face belonging to an unfamiliar boy. His stare was strange. It was full of an intensity you couldn’t comprehend. You kept staring, in spite of yourself. Fuck. Was it possible for someone to be so attractive?

The clapping of your classmates pulled you back into reality. You were quick to look elsewhere, unable to understand the sudden lurch of your heart.

Suho couldn’t take his eyes off the new girl, more specifically, the string neatly wrapped around her index finger. He watched her carefully. The shy smile she wore was annoyingly adorable, and it made a foreign warmth spread across his chest and along his entire body. The new girl didn’t spare him another glance as she took her seat next to Jugyeong.

Lim Jugyeong.

He wasn’t her soulmate and she wasn’t his, but she was the girl who had unknowingly stolen his heart. That wasn’t about to change because some stranger who he was supposedly meant to be with came into his life with no warning.

Suho looked back to the front of the classroom without looking at the new girl again.

The first time it happened, you wrote it off as fatigue. After all, you had just started middle school and trying to keep up with your new workload as well as your budding social life was exhausting. That day, the color of your string had faded a bit, but it was still visible. By the time you were on your way home it disappeared for a mere second before regaining its color. Days later, it was completely gone.

When your mom first found out you could no longer see your string, she became extremely distraught. It had affected her more than it did you, honestly. She wasted no time in taking you to see countless specialists and psychologists. Anything to keep you from becoming a freak that didn’t know who they were meant to be with. She unknowingly made you feel exactly like that.

Apparently, you were a rare case because every person you went to for help wanted to conduct a study on you and your condition. Fortunately for you, your mom didn’t want you becoming a lab rat and decided to stop seeking out help from strangers. Left with no other option, you went to one person who she believed could help you. An old friend of hers.

He wasn’t a specialist, just a regular doctor who came to the conclusion that a deep, scarring trauma had caused you to no longer see your string. You could remember the heartbreak on your mom’s face because you both knew what that trauma was.

Your mom did her best to help you. Spending more time together and countless hours of therapy did nothing for your condition. Nothing worked. You became convinced that trying to see your string again was futile.

And you were right.

As time went on, you grew used to the unease that had latched itself onto you on that first day. The feeling in your bones settled in like an unwelcome guest who refused to leave. No matter what you did, you couldn’t shake the feeling. Eventually, you gave up trying.

However, something shifted when you crossed paths with Lee Suho.

You two had been put in the same group for a science lab. His attention had been solely on Lim Jugyeong, but there were times when your eyes would meet. Those milliseconds were just that, but to you they felt like an eternity. He rarely addressed you, but when he did, you could feel the pressure weighing on your bones fade bit by bit. That familiar feeling soon shifted into a more comfortable presence that you yearned to feel forever.

It was subtle, but at some point, Suho’s emotionless face changed. The change would last for no more than a second, but it always did when he looked at you. That change had your entire stature seeping with warmth. You vaguely recognized the feeling as something akin to infatuation.

It scared you.

Of course, the possibility that he might be your soulmate crossed your mind, but you quickly dismissed that thought.

Too many times had you gotten in trouble for insisting someone was your soulmate when they really weren’t. Any special bond or feelings that grew between you and someone else couldn’t always be interpreted as the ones between soulmates. You learned that the hard way.

Besides, your soulmate would make it clear to name themselves as such even if you couldn’t see the string.

At least, you hoped they would.

Philophobia.

Before you went into high school, your mom insisted you see one last psychologist with the promise that the one she found was different. Reluctantly, you went to see this woman who diagnosed you with this absurd illness. You felt like it was made up, but your mother was adamant that you did have it.

You knew she only thought that because you had told her you no longer had any interest in finding your soulmate. Her panic was unrivaled after hearing those words come out of your mouth. You wrote off her panic because your disinterest in soulmates was only natural. How could it not when—at the time—it was all your friends could talk about? Talk about being the odd man out.

Okay, and maybe you also weren’t keen on meeting new people because of the fear that they could easily ignore the string you couldn’t see. There was also the fear that if you ever did meet someone you wanted to spend your life with, they could end up not being your soulmate and vice versa.

But those feelings would all fade with time, you were sure.

Hanging out near the back of the school where no one ever went became a regular thing for you. It was the one spot where you didn’t have to worry about your soulmate or anything related to that—a safe place. Until it wasn’t.

“You can’t just ignore the bond you have with her.”

The angry voice was one you vaguely recognized. You peeked around the corner, eyes widening when you saw Han Seojun and Lee Suho in the middle of what appeared to be an argument.

“Why are you bringing that up?” Suho’s eyes narrowed. “Do you still like Jugyeong?”

Seojun’s gaze hardened. “It’s not about that.”

It was wrong to listen on what was clearly meant to be a private conversation, but your feet wouldn’t move. You could see Suho’s anger and irritation from your hiding place, and for some reason seeing him that way made a blistering discomfort latch itself onto your chest.

“You’re being unfair to Jugyeong and Y/N.”

The mention of your name had your insides twisting into an uncomfortable knot. You didn’t understand why or how you had anything to do with the discussion, but you had a feeling the reason wasn’t anything good.

“Just because she’s my soulmate doesn’t mean I owe her anything.”

There was a sharp pain in your chest, one that grew into a searing pain as the seconds ticked by. You might’ve cried out in pain had it not been for the shock that consumed you. In a sudden instant, your vision became blurred with tears as you staggered back. His words were the worst form of torture, like a piece of barbed wire that wrapped itself around your heart.

Your fate was a cruel one, forever bound to someone who refused to acknowledge the bond between you two. Lee Suho was your soulmate, but he didn’t want to be.

It was a cruel reality to have your worst nightmare come to life.

“Is it true?”

Suho raised an eyebrow at you. His gaze didn’t soften like it once did. Now it just remained impassive, almost annoyed. The cold look he was giving you was making you regret even coming to him in the first place.

“Are you really my soulmate?”

“Why are you acting like you don’t know?” Suho’s unaffected stare unsettled you. “You’ve known since the first time we saw each other.”

But you hadn’t known. This entire time you had been driving yourself crazy thinking you were only imagining the connection between you two like you had done countless times after you first lost the sight of your string. Despite wanting to tell him that, you settled for a question.

“What about Jugyeong? Don’t you think she—?”

“Are you going to tell her?” He interrupted you.

You could literally hear your heart crack. Of course that’s all he cared about. He didn’t care whether or not you were hurt and upset, hell, he probably thought you had no interest in your soulmate. But he was wrong, so very wrong.

“Why?” He demanded. “You don’t want me as your soulmate either. You’ve been ignoring the bond, too.”

I can’t see my string! You nearly yelled. The words were clawing at your throat, eager to be released. But you found yourself unable to tell him the truth.

“My soul chose yours,” you said, close to tears. “And a soul just doesn’t forget that.”

For a moment, one that was so quick you thought you imagined it, Suho looked remorseful. Stupidly, it made you hope that he would accept you and the bond that bounded you together.

“Don’t tell her.” His voice didn’t sound like a plea, but you knew what he was asking you to do was clearly important to him. “I can’t loose her.”

And so, you agreed. Even if it meant that your own heart would be left in tatters.

[junko-and-riri-domain]

jayla’s cafe | sjy

↬ series: cameras & caffeine | chapter one ↬ overall pairing: cafe owner!jake x ceo!reader (all members will be featured at some point throughout the series, some are in it more than others !!) ↬ overall series genres: fluff, slight angst, jake also bakes, reader is a single mom, we fell in love when we were kids but life happened so we broke up and now we’re reconnecting because we’re adults and i don’t think i ever truly got over you au, love triangle if you squint really really hard ↬ navi: next | series masterlist ↬ warnings: none ↬ word count: 1.3k

[ series synopsis ]

↱ You were young when you fell in love with Sim Jake. How could you not when he had a smile that could light up the darkest of nights, eyes that seemed to look deep into your soul, and a bubble of happiness around him that you wanted to be a part of? He was young when he fell in love with you. How could he not when you had a warmth that could never be replicated, a spark in your eyes that he loved to see, and your own special way of calming him down? But life had other plans for you two. After high school, he wanted to move back to Australia and start a new life with you but you wanted to stay in the country and continue the life already established for you. Things changed, your views no longer aligned, and before either of you two had broken up.

Now, a few years have passed and due to medical issues, your father has decided to temporarily step down from his position as Hybe Entertainment’s CEO, leaving the position to you. Despite all the eyes watching and waiting for you to fall since you’re so young and a single mother, you’re determined to prove them all wrong. You’ve been doing fine so far, working in such a high position and stressful environment while simultaneously being able to take the time and effort to take care of your son, Heeseung. But when you get news of your ex, Jake coming back to the country and opening up a cafe you decide to pay a visit. One visit turns to two which turns to three and before you know it, Jayla’s Cafe suddenly becomes a part of your regular routine. Jake meets Heeseung, the two instantly taking a liking to each other but unbeknownst to any of you, cameras lurk in the bushes and flash when you’re unaware. What happens when photos are revealed to the public and connections are made? Connections… that might not just be baseless rumors after all.  ↲

You let out a sigh as your eyes stay settled on your laptop screen in front of you, too focused on work to be able to glance at the time and too busy to hear your office door opening. It’s only when you feel a presence next to you, a slight tug at your hand, and the sound of your son’s voice that you’re finally brought back to reality and out of the trance that work had put you in. You smile as you smoothen out Heeseung’s hair, move the chair back a little to allow him to settle on your lap. You look up at Sunghoon and smile,

“Thanks for taking care of Hee today,” you say gratefully. Of all the billions of people in the world, you couldn’t be more thankful to have Sunghoon as your best friend. He was there for you when you were pregnant, a constant source of comfort when you needed it, and now was one of the closest things that Heeseung had as a father.

“Mhm,” is all Sunghoon replies as he takes your coat for you. While the three of you head into the elevator

“Hoonie?” you say. Sunghoon stays quiet at the nickname, simply looking at you and you continue, “I’m thankful for all that you’ve done for me but you really don’t have to any of this. After all, you’re the co-CEO of Park Enterprises with Jay and you have your own life. Maybe you should go on a few dates here and there instead of always being with me and Hee, I can set you up,” you offered. Sunghoon was hurt at your implication that there were better places to be than with you but didn’t show it. Instead,

“I don’t have time to go on dates, you know this.”

“But you have time to take care of a kid for half a day?” you countered. In all the years that you’ve known Sunghoon and have been best friends, you never could really get a read on him. You wondered what he was thinking about and the thoughts running through his mind but when the elevator finally reaches the parking lot below your building,

“It’s different because you and Heeseung are actually worth spending my time on,” he replied as you got into your car. The car ride to your house was spent in silence, a normal occurrence with Sunghoon but it felt normal and was a type of silence that didn’t need to be filled. Spending time with Sunghoon was something that you did so often that it was almost a part of your routine. Like tonight, there were times when Sunghoon would pick up Heeseung and bring him to your office and the three of you would then have dinner together. Other times, you picked up Heeseung and headed to Sunghoon’s office for dinner. Occasionally, Sunghoon’s half-brother and co-CEO of Park Enterprises, Jay would eat out with you guys too. Growing up, you were all a group of five who were stuck together like glue, Jay, Sunghoon, Yeji, you, and Jake. The Park Brothers ran the family business together while Yeji chose to travel the world, much like Jake did. You hear your name being called, causing you to look at Sunghoon next to you,

“Huh?”

“You ok? You looked so deep in thought.” You glanced behind you, looking at Heeseung now asleep in the backseat,

“Just thinking about some things is all.”

When you got to your house and started eating dinner, you couldn’t help yourself from glancing at Sunghoon every so often. You couldn’t deny that it felt nice to have a constant source of stability and comfort through him, but it wasn’t fair to him since he was spending so much time and taking so much effort to help you out given that you were a single mother and he had grown to become your best friend. The two of you were on your living room couch since he was spending the night and were watching a movie while Heeseung was asleep in his room. Suddenly, Sunghoon brought up a topic that you weren’t quite expecting him to but you weren’t surprised about it earlier.

“Jake’s back from Australia.” You set your cup of hot chocolate on the table and wrap the blanket tighter around you and lean your head on Sunghoon’s shoulder,

“I know.” It comes out mumbled as you keep your eyes on the screen, not quite wanting to talk about it but you knowing that you were going to have to face it eventually, nervousness now filled you.

“He opened up a cafe downtown, Jayla’s Cafe.”

“I know.”

“I’m going with Jay tomorrow.”

“Jake invited me too but I said I couldn’t go because of work.” It was a lie since tomorrow was your day off but Jake didn’t need to know that. Honestly, you weren’t ready to face Jake and you didn’t think you’d ever be. When you and Jake were younger, you fell in love but after high school, life happened and Jake chose to go to Australia while you decided to stay since you were learning how to take over Hybe Industries.

“You gotta tell him.”

“It’s not like I keep it a secret, like, people know I have a kid.” It was a dumb response and you knew it. Sunghoon called you out on it by saying,

“You don’t keep it a secret but you don’t actively acknowledge it either.” Sighing,

“Can we not talk about this today?” Or ever, you wanted to say.

“I know it’s not my place to tell you what to do. But he’s back now.”

The opening day of Jayla’s Cafe went way better than Jake expected if he was being honest with himself. Whether it was due to good marketing, pure luck, or Layla’s presence in the cafe that drew in so many customers, he wasn’t going to complain about it. He was more nervous now than he was in the morning because Jay and Sunghoon would be dropping by in a few minutes. It had been years since he had seen his old friends or been a part of “high society” as most would call it due to the status and wealth you all grew up with. He missed you the most and kind of hoped that you would’ve dropped by today. But things were different now, he knew. You two weren’t the little kids who fell in love and acted on that love in your teens. You were no longer the girl who’d yell at Jake for teasing you over something dumb, you were now the CEO of Hybe Entertainment and someone that young kids could look up to and aspire to be like. He was no longer the guy who’d hold your hand or give you a hug when you cried because you didn’t need that-- him anymore.

“I was the one who decided to head back to Australia,” Jake muttered to himself in an effort to somewhat justify the years that he hadn’t seen you or anyone else except for the few times Jay would come to Australia. The bell chiming signals to Jake that someone had walked in, confirmed at the sight of Jay and Sunghoon entering inside the cafe. While you had already told him that you wouldn’t be coming, his heart still sank a little at the lack of your presence here. Greeting the guys and setting out some pastries and drinks, the three talked and caught up on things. Somewhere down the line,

“Jake, can you connect my phone to the Wi-Fi real quick?” Sunghoon asked, handing Jake his phone,

“Yeah, sure man.” Taking Sunghoon’s phone, the phone screen was still open, a mistake Sunghoon was unaware he had made. Looking at the phone screen, Jake saw a photo of you and Sunghoon which wasn’t something that was surprising to him. What did surprise him was the sight of a little boy in between you and Sunghoon, Sunghoon’s smile the brightest he’s ever seen it before. As Jake hands Sunghoon his phone back after connecting it to the Wi-Fi, he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell had happened in the years he’d been gone. But throughout the night and as the conversation went on… he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

↬ a/n:

now that tatts & cupcakes is over, meet cameras & caffeine !!

❦ written by riri ( @enhykkul​​ ) | main blog masterlist | blog navi

taglist status: open -- send an ask or comment !! ( if you comment, i respond under my main acct )​

taglist: @markleepooh | @ifvjay | @softnanaaaa | @dear-dreamie​ | @sunshineshouchan | @bloom-bloom-pow | @mykalon​ | @fairycob​ | @icywhatim​

[yes-ihavealwaysbeengreen]

Could you do “does he make you feel as good as I do” with Will!? I’m so sorry...I’m on one today! 🌺

Pairing: Young! William Ironhead Miller x F! Reader

Warnings: 18 + only for language, yearning, fingering, and a surprisingly soft ending.

Captain Miller

You sat in the dark, seedy bar and listened to your friends complain about their lives. Children, husbands, sex; anything and everything you sat and just listened. "He didn't even make me cum," Marcie groans, taking her fourth shot of tequila.

"Damn, no man knows how to properly fuck a woman anymore," Julia sympathies, "it's like they can't even find a damn clitoris."

"He could," you whisper, and all three turn to stare at you.

"Who?" Charlie asks quietly.

You clear your throat and take another sip of your beer, "no one, forget I said anything."

"No," Marcie sits up, "tell us, who are you talking about?"

You open your mouth to speak, but the words die on your tongue, your throat goes dry. Unspeakable energy hums from the direction of the door, and you turn slowly behind you, the heat of his gaze already on you. "Him," you whisper, broken.

He looks damn good, even more delicious than the last time, and he smiles in your direction with a wink. One of the guys he's with claps him on the shoulder, and they meander over to the bar. "Who's that?" Charlie asks, all their eyes watching him.

"Captain William Ironhead Miller."

"Ironhead?"

"He’s in Delta Force; it’s his call sign." You stay silent, and you can't drag your eyes away from him. The way his shirt clings to his muscles, his arms threatening to break away from the fabric, trying to contain them. Those muscular legs that carried you wrapped like a monkey around his waist. You shiver, and almost like he can hear your thoughts, he turns.

Your eyes meet the blue of the sea, and you drown in the depth of his eyes. He whispers something to his friend, who nods before coming to walk over to your table. Your positive he can hear your heart beating loudly in your chest, and his smile widens when the others watch him with wide eyes.

"Hi, honey," he grins, putting one hand on the table and the other on the back of your chair. You can smell the cedarwood of his cologne, and he leans forward, putting his lips to your ear. "I missed you." You close your eyes and inhale a deep breath; you could get drunk on the raw masculine energy he exudes.

"Will," you should be embarrassed at the whimper of his name on your lips, but you don't even care. "Fuck, I missed you too." You feel him press a kiss to your cheek and pull away, grinning when you chase him with your lips.

"Is there somewhere we can talk alone? I don't want to get interrupted like last time." You frown, remembering the last time he blew into town while you were with another guy. Will had seduced you then, too, reducing you to nothing but a whore starved for his cock in the bathroom of another seedy bar.

"I'm here with my friends," you take a breath to clear your head, gesturing to the three women who have their eyes fixed on the two of you. "I can't just leave them."

"Go," Charlie urges, "We got the drinks this time."

"Yes, go," Julia smirks with a wink, "just call us later to make sure you got home okay." Fucking traitors.

He smirks and reaches for your hand, the spider has you in his trap now, and you're powerless to resist him. You stand and follow him out into the cool night air, "where are we going?" you ask quietly, and he remains silent.

When you reach his truck, he turns you, so your back is against the door before he leans down and captures your lips in a searing kiss. You melt against him, and his hands wrap around your waist to prevent you from puddling on the floor. You wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss, moaning softly when you feel his tongue swipe over your bottom lip.

He takes your lip between his teeth and drags it out before releasing it with a pop. Your pupils are dilated, and you're sure you looked as wrecked as you feel, and he's barely touched you. He removes one hand, and you hear the click of the truck unlocking, "get in." He opens the door to the backseat of the cab, and you tremble, feeling him follow close.

He wastes no time pulling you across his lap and pressing you down, so you feel how much he wants you. The seam of his jeans bursting against your soaked panties. He takes your sundress and bunches it at your waist, dipping his fingers down the front of the elastic. "Fuck, honey," he groans, feeling how wet you are for him, "Is this all for me?"

You nod, the ability to form words long gone, as he strokes the fire between your thighs. All you can manage is a weak whimper of his name. He removes his hand, and you whine before the sound of your panties ripping breaks the silence. He bunches the fabric in his fist and brings it up to his nose, taking a whiff. "I didn't get to taste you last time, honey. Can I tonight?"

You nod, mouth-watering as you watch him tuck your panties in his pocket like a prize. "I'm gonna take you home tonight honey, no one is going to interrupt us this time. Tonight, you are mine." He lets his hands drift, and he dips two of his thick fingers inside you; you clench around him and drop your head back as he holds them still inside you, his thumb beginning to draw small circles on your clit.

"I want to take my time with you tonight," he begins to pull his fingers in and out of you slowly while his tongue licks the salty skin at your neck. "I'm going to make you cum so many times before I even give you my cock," you rock against his fingers, praying for more of his touch. He smiles against your neck and bites down hard enough to leave a mark, like a lion marking his territory. "That's it, ride my fingers," he praises as you move your hips a little faster.

His fingers are frozen, making you work for it. He pulls down the front of your dress with his other hand and lavishes your breasts with his tongue and teeth, leaving a trail all over your chest of his bites and bruises. "Will," you moan, his mouth latched onto your breast, "I need more, please."

He doesn't say a word, doesn't even acknowledge he hears you but suddenly curves his fingers, pressing right against your g-spot. "Oh fuck," you shatter, trembling so hard you may have blacked out for a minute. He drags your neck back and swallows your screams as he takes over, pumping his fingers into you, again and again, drawing out your orgasm.

When you come back down from the stratosphere, you smile softly at the smug look on his face. "Feel good, honey? Does he make you feel as good as I do?" He withdraws his fingers, and you watch as he sucks them clean, never taking his eyes off yours. "Mhmm," he groans, "you taste so fucking good, honey."

You swallow, finding the courage to speak, "I broke up with him that night. There hasn't been anyone else. Only you."

He's silent, watching you, always observing. He licks his lips before he speaks, only the slightest twinge of vulnerability in his tone, "no one else? That was almost six months ago."

"They weren't you," you whisper, and his eyes go soft for just a moment before they slip into that careful mask of the soldier.

"I'm getting deployed again," your heart sinks, "I may not come back." You understand what he's saying, that this may be all he can give you. America is his mistress, and she's the one he's going to fight in a war for. "But if I do," you feel the hope bloom in your chest, "then I want you. All of you, for as long as you'll want me."

"Then take me home Captain Miller. I'm already yours."

@lunarthoughts @jedi-mando @idreamofboobear @aerolanya @rebelliouscat @darklingveracruz @marvelprincess1994 @thirstworldproblemss @spacelatinoss @martellthemandalor @kesskirata @waatermelon-sugaar @jitterbugs927 @helga1031 @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @anet @aellynera @lucifer- @houseofthirst @phoenixhalliwell @chicken-ona-stick @agirllovespancakes @ghostwiththemostbitch @the-purity-pen @paintballkid711 @wasicskosgirl @fantasticcopeaglepasta @sarahjkl82-blog @boxdyeblonde @rosiefridayrogersunday @yeah-seems-legit @mimimi-stuff @ladyblogger-margie @memyselfandellasworld @peterhollandkait @itspdameronthings @emmy626 @luv-nd-serenity @randomness501 @littlebopper96 @alexmarie29 @hell-is-my-second-home666 @thisshipwillsail316 @madslorian @no-droids-on-sunday @glixxr @sfr99 @pedro-pastel @we-can-be-himbos @sleep-tight1 @sarhabee @its--fandom--darling @im-an-adult-ish @princess76179 @Demoncrypt1066 @the-dendrophile-bookworm @amneris21 @deliciouslydisturbed365 @princessxkenobi @Kirstg42 @ew-erin @maievdenoir @withakindheartx

@gunslinger2000 @omlwhatamidoinghere @linkpk88 @tlcwrites @lv7867 @mudhorn-djarin19 @mssbridgerton @elisabethbathgate @pascal-rascal424 @midnightzonzz @massivetfsimp @mandorush @marvelousmermaid

@daffodin @xjustmenobodyelse @blufanfictionthings @nicotinebirds @queenbbarnes @rayslittlekitten @missjessie21

[bitchassbucky]

Ｂａｃｋ Ｔｏ Ｙｏｕ (Ｓａｍ Ｗｉｌｓｏｎ ｘ Ｆ!Ｒｅａｄｅｒ)

📎Word Count: 1.5k

📎Warning/s: some heckin’ words. Bucky’s in this, he’s a bit annoying (affectionately) <3 MINORS DNI.

📎A/N: omg my first Sam fic! i wanna thank my boo @babyboibucky for enabling me hsakjdhak ily! this is for you, bee!

📎Masterlist || Ask || AFTERDARK

📎 Follow the story: Back To You, Dimples, Inked

“Are you even listening to me?” Bucky says, annoyed that Sam has been looking down on his phone, remotely giving attention to their conversation.

Sam grins, fingers dancing over the keyboard on the screen, “Yeah, yeah. Something about motel rooms—or beds.”

“I said that they gave us two beds in one room,” the former spots their door number, quickly walking to it. The tactical bag swinging over his cybernetic arm freely.

The night was warm, the air blew the ocean mist towards the town. The parking lot is empty save for a black sedan that’s already been through a lot. They chose to stay low instead of getting a room at a decent hotel close by–something about them not likening the crowd.

Once inside, both men cleared the room in 30 seconds flat. The window opens out, the door stays closed and locked. The TV has to be on but kept on low volume. The beds are made, it’s clean; beats the flat beds on the plane.

Sam throws his bag over to the bed closest to the window, calling dibs. “Hey, you got headphones?” He asks.

“No,” Bucky answers, settling his things below the foot of the bed, “why?” He catches Sam again smiling giddily over something, “what you got a girl there or something?” 

“It’s none of your business,” Sam retorts, quirking his eyebrow upwards, “well? Do you have headphones?”

“If you listened to me, you would’ve heard me say ‘no.’”

Bucky should’ve had brought headphones. Sam has been droning on and on with a ‘friend’ over on a video call.

Not that he’s eavesdropping and nosy but he saw how Sam lit up when a voice came in from his phone.

“Hey, Sammy! I finally get to see your face.” You say, your voice crackling over Sam’s speakers, “am I on speaker right now?”

Sam smiles, focusing on your background and seeing pictures and posters plastered on the wall, “oh, yeah. Sorry, I forgot my earphones somewhere.”

“What? Old man Barnes rubbing off on you?” You laugh, your glasses reflecting your laptop’s screen. Your joke sending Sam into a laughing fit.

“You know he’s in the room, right?” Sam clarifies as he turns the camera to Bucky, much to the former’s dismay. But despite himself, Bucky waves to the camera.

“Heard a lot about you, Barnes! Hope you’re ready for frequent bathroom trips from this one.”

Sam faces you again, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes, “Shut up or I’m gonna drop the call.”

You quickly send him an emoji via text, Sam rolling his eyes as you giggle. “Anyway, since you can’t join in on the fun, you’ll be my audience tonight.”

Sam gives you a confused look, a hint of crease appearing between his brows. “Tonight? What’s tonight?”

A fake gasp and an overdramatic show of hurt had him chuckling, “You already forgot the karaoke night you promised me, didn’t you?”

He grins apologetically and looks at the camera, as if looking into your eyes, “I’m sorry. Been busy these past few weeks.”

You smile softly, the imagery giving Sam a burst of butterflies in his tummy, “it’s okay. I was just being dramatic. I got that from you, you know.”

You are not a good singer. But you confidently belt out the highest of notes like one. Complete with hand gestures, you hold out the last note of the song.

“Thank you,” you bow down to your imaginary crowd off-camera, “I’ll be here all night.”

“On god, please don’t,” Sam interjects with a tender smile and soft eyes.

“Sammy!” Your eyes glazing over your screen, a deep pang of homesickness hitting you, “I missed this. I missed you.”

He nods, his lips pressed tightly as he tries to find the words to respond, “I missed you too, bub.” 

A soft note of a love song sounds over your speaker, traveling to his, “you love this song.”

Sam nods, reminiscing the moments he had with you during college. The one time you almost kissed—where are these memories and feelings coming from?! “Yeah, and---”

The doorbell rings on your end. Your eyes glinting as you stand up. Food delivery!

“Hold that thought, Sammy. My food’s here,” you say, your voice faint as you’re practically halfway through the door.

“She is a god-awful singer,” Bucky expresses, “but you love her, don’t you?”

“What?” Sam quickly taps a button on his screen—stupid Bucky and his stupid mouth. He covers his phone’s mouthpiece as if that could help, “shut the hell up.”

Sam’s changed demeanor confirms Bucky’s growing suspicion, “so you do love her!”

The latter glances at the empty screen, hoping you didn’t hear anything. Or maybe, he does?

The only sign of life from your end is the sound of various utensils cluttering and a metal bowl falling to the floor, making both men wince at the sudden noise.

Sam lowers the volume of his phone, facing Bucky from their respective beds.

“Shit,” Sam exclaims, running a hand over his handsome face, “maybe I do.”

This time, he finally lets himself go through the memories you made together before he left for the military.

The coffee dates, the late-night calls, the breakfast hangouts, the study sessions. You light up even the most boring of things. The texture of your skin, the sound of your laugh, the twinkle in your eyes bring Sam into a warm place.

You make him feel enough. You see him through and through.

Oh shit, he is in love with you.

Bucky just looks at him, boring holes in his face, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “You really just realized, just now?” Sam’s not sure if it’s a rhetorical question.

“The way you talk about her. The way you talk to her. You see her and the things she like everywhere we go and you realize it just now?” So, it is a rhetorical question.

The revelation leaves Sam amused but unable to form words, “I… Do–I do love her. I’m in love with my best friend.”

A silent beat drops in the room—save for the faint hello? coming from Sam’s phone.

Ah, fuck.

Bucky put on his jacket planning to head out (to the motel’s ice machine) to give you two privacy. He bids Sam good luck and you a good night before walking towards the door.

As soon as the door shuts, Sam increases the volume on his phone again.

“Sam?” You call out, “I can’t see you, your cam’s off.”

In panic, he realizes that he tapped the wrong button—maybe Old Man Barnes had rubbed off on him.

You smile and sat up a little bit straighter when his face lights up your screen again.

“So… how much did you hear about the whole thing?” Sam wants to tread carefully around the subject, the first time he feels uncomfortable opening up to you.

He fully expects you to dismiss the topic, turn in for the night, and leave him lamenting about his feelings. And he’s somehow okay with it.

“Kinda, everything.” You confess, there’s nothing holding you back now, “I, you know-- I’m glad you got ‘round it. Even if it took you years.”

Another pin drops inside Sam’s head, “what do you mean?”

“Look, I confessed to you before we graduated but you never acknowledged it. So, I never brought it up again.” Even miles apart, Sam’s presence was around you. The bracelet he gave you during junior year, his favorite mug you borrowed from him, a ton of his shirts and hoodies that he gave to you before moving out after graduation. 

“You confessed to me? When?” Sam racks his brain for the smallest of details, for the quietest of whispers.

“I wrote you a letter. Remember? I slipped it under your door after finals week.”

After all these years, Sam never quite found out who wrote him that letter, “you never signed it.”

Sam didn’t expect you to laugh, to double over such a serious conversation, “dude, I did, I signed it. Why would I send you a deep proclamation of love without signing it?”

“It was written on pink paper, right? I still have it. You wanna bet that you don’t have your name on it?”

Your eyes widen in embarrassment, heat creeping up your cheeks, “oh my god, are you serious? I didn’t sign it?”

Sam laughs softly, his eyes crinkling the same way. There are lines decorating his eyes but he was still your Sam.

“No, ma’am.” He declares, the air somehow lighter now, “if you did, I would’ve said something.”

A hum escapes your lips, curling into a gentle smile, “good to know.”

The comfortable silence envelops the room, years of yearning and pining finally coming to end.

“Hey, after this mission - I was thinking if you want to go out. Catch up and you know, finally, talk in person.” Sam asks, there’s still a tiny voice inside his head not believing the talk that had transpired.

“I’d love that, Sam.”

The sentiment crashes and closes in on itself as Bucky barges into the room, holding a bucket of ice in one hand and a pack of beer in the other, “congratulations, idiots.”

[multiplefandomsblog]

S/O who lost a bet to Kokichi, punishment being a Maid’s Dress

request; Ooooo, Requests are open! Could I have a female S/O who lost a bet and now has to wear a sexy maid outfit? And Kokichi is just. Eating. It. Up.

warnings; reader lost a bet and has to wear a maid dress, reader uses female pronouns and names, reader uses master(non-sexually), cussing, had to make kaito the ‘bad guy’ for trope reasons lmfao, kokichi gets jealous and possessive, they goof off a ton at the end, overall just fluff without much plot, and i.. i dont even know how to say this, i used this phrase i found from the internet “top 15 embarrassing things to say to strangers” so like,, watch out for that..! ahahahaha-

note; omfg i hate this one so much- most out of all my works, i stg i am the most disappointed in this one. please don’t even read it- i could’ve done so much better ;-; man, i just butchered this like a fricking idiot-- sorry anon!!!! you seriously deserved so much better, i am so sorry. there are so many issues with this- the ending, the cringe, the messiness, the fucking clichés- seriously, please please forgive me. although you probably shouldn’t, i am just so so sorry T_T please don’t be afraid to ask me if you want this rewritten, i am like, BEGGING YOU TO ASK ME TO REWRITE THIS SAVIBVDHBSDKJ

word count; 2.1k

You took a deep breath before leaving your dorm, mentally preparing yourself for the walk of shame to the dining room where you had to… you didn’t even want to say it, nor acknowledge it. The bet you had lost the day before with Kokichi, had left you with nothing but bitterness in the end. Your eyebrows were permanently creased, an expression of pure regret on your face as you shuffled unenthusiastically down the hall in your frilly maid’s outfit. 

Shuichi greeted you as soon as he noticed the dress, a concerned, confused and albeit a bit flustered expression on his face as he did. “H-hey S/o! Um, so are you going to the dining hall?” He asked an obvious question, just so he could somehow get you to talk about your huge dress. Only nodding shamefully, you stifled a sigh. 

Shuichi only made a noise of acknowledgement, letting the conversation go stale as he was too afraid to address the elephant in the room, himself. You were both silent, Saihara standing in front of you, awkwardly planted on his spot while he looked at everything but you. 

He didn’t say anything, only occasionally sparing glances at your dress as he stood like a tree. Getting irked from the silence, you deadpanned, “... You want to know why I’m wearing a maid’s dress.” He flushed at even the mention of the word, as if you had said something terrible.

“Y-you don’t have to te-” Disrupting his excuse, you looked him dead in the eye, and uttered one word, “Kokichi.” Shuichi blinked at the name, before nodding in pity. After your short response, he required no further questions, the single name was all it took for the realization to wash over him. Even if he wasn’t a detective, it wouldn’t take less than a second to know what was going on. 

As if the said-Kokichi had been waiting for you to say that, Kokichi suddenly popped out of nowhere, scaring the two of you at his sudden appearance, “Oh? What’s my maid doing with Saihara-chan? Not wasting time I hope~” He laughed sadistically at your suffering, “Chop chop my maid! Since I’m your master, you’re gonna have to follow my every order! So don’t even try to disobey me; cuz I’m sure maid-chan knows what happens when she does, right? Nishishi!” You cringed at the nickname, ere sighing in defeat and letting him drag you to the dining room where you’d soon meet your demise.

You looked back at Shuichi one last time, mouthing a, ‘Help me.’ as Kokichi dragged you away. Shuichi only sent back a sheepish and apologetic look, in which you glared at him, betrayal overtaking you.

A couple of minutes later of countless teasing and judgemental looks sent your way, you were finally at the dreaded destination. To your surprise, Kokichi eagerly kicked the door to the dining room open before you could even prepare yourself, the entire class turning around at the loud noise. Kaito was first to speak up about the dramatic entrance, ‘Kokichi!? What the actual F-! … f-ffffffffffuuhh..” Kaito trailed off, his attention shifting off Kokichi, to focusing on you in a maid’s dress. 

Despite wanting you to feel the pure unfiltered humiliation, the sadistic bastard definitely did not love the way Kaito was eyeing you. Smile faltering for a second, he considered dragging you to his own room and having you perform a private show for him instead of these assholes. Shaking his head, he tried dispersing the thoughts of… jealousy? No, that can’t be it. 

He decided he’d delay his feelings of conflict for later, and unfortunately for you, focusing back on your nervous figure. Peaking at the look on your face, he couldn’t help the twinge of worry for your well-being. 

Noticing him stare at you with a small concern, you furrowed your brows in suspicion, that wasn’t really like him. Only then, did you notice the desperation on his face. He looked like he was choosing to either say, “Are you okay?” or “Pleaaaase!” He watched you, eyes wide with worry yet looking as if he had been begging you. Choosing your fate, you sent him a reassuring, but solemn nod, deciding to do the act he had been looking forward to for the entirety of yesterday; the day you lost that damned bet. 

You sighed defeatedly at his pouty expression, you were weak for him and he knew it.

“Alright.” He looked up at you with expecting eyes, holding back a shit-eating grin, “Alright what..?” You sighed for the 2nd time within the span of 45 seconds, “Ugh... Master.” The single word uttered out from your pretty lips had his entire body shuddering, fighting back the blush on his face, he leaned his back towards you teasingly, his ego had been very clearly stroked, “That’s right. I’m your master; so come on and get to it! Don’t make your master wait~” He added, clearly enjoying your misery. You pouted, where did the worried Kokichi go?

Turning to face the crowd that seemed to be staring at you while you flirted talked normally with Kokichi, you felt your frills shuffle with each movement you made. You closed your eyes in preparation, making a mental note never to make a bet with Kokichi, ever. “Do I have to get on my knees?” He smiled cheerfully, “It’s part of the deal~” ‘Nishishi’ing as dread washed over your face.

Everyone watched in anticipation, some with concern, but mostly the former— as you got on your knees, the skirt neatly pleating on the ground. 

Disgruntled, you uttered out a small, “If you tickle me, I will… I- “ You looked back at Kokichi, a look of, ‘Do I have to do this?’ contorting on your face as you stared at him pleadingly, dying inside when he nodded frantically like a child at a candy store.

“... S-say hee hee and prance around like a rainbow lollipop on a cloud of unicorn wishes.“ You flinched , the entire class had suddenly started howling and rushing towards you—most likely to tickle you—, but right before a giddy Angie and a determined Tenko could get their hands on you, Kokichi suddenly spoke up, stopping them in their tracks. “Hey! She’s not allowed to be touched by mutts like you, so get back!” He brutally spat, voice scratching from the force of his words. 

Kaito immediately took the opportunity to ask you out as Kokichi’s occupied with the others, not hesitating for a second. Tapping on your shoulder, a shy smile adorning Kaito’s face as he awkwardly shuffled, “Hey S/o..! Do you maybe wanna, um..” Kokichi swiftly popped out from underneath your skirt as if this was a routinely thing, standing in between you and Kaito. “What the hell-” Kaito recoiled back in shock, had he just been hiding under there?? Kokichi looked at you, before looking back at him. 

You were sure if looks could kill, Kaito would’ve been dead a year ago. “Hey. You know she’s mine, yeah?” Kokichi spoke with a dead-cold look on his face, before almost immediately contorting back into his usual mischievous smile, “... My personal maid, of course! Nishishi!” Kaito stared Kokichi down, in which Kokichi simply glared back in amusement, the same smile staying onto his face. Irking, Kaito discontentedly walked away, shortly after Kokichi had won the stare-down. 

Exhaling loudly, his smile fell off his face as well as the breath he kept in, a neutral expression replacing his grin as he stared back at you, “You know, this whole thing is getting kinda boring, let’s just leave.” He tried putting on his signature charming grin, but you could see the way his teeth clenched. It seemed Kaito asking you out had a bigger effect on him than he wanted to admit. 

Despite teasing and asking him if he was worried and/or jealous on the way to a secluded area, he persists, staying stubborn and brushing it off. “It just wasn’t as fun as I thought! Now stop nagging me and hurry uuuuup! You’re such a slowpoke.” Perking up, he suddenly remembered something, “Oh wait! That’s an order, right? So you have to obey.” Rolling your eyes, you jolted as an idea suddenly found its way to your head. 

Flashing a mischievous smirk in his direction, you left him bewildered as you started sprinting across the field. “Wh- Hey! Haha, what the fuck!?” He cackled at how stupid you looked, throwing your heels across the field somewhere as you stumbled from the length of the dress, still running to god knows where. 

His laughing suddenly halted as he witnessed the way you took a large leap and stepped on your dress, tumbling down as you did.“Stooop! You’re gonna actually hurt yourself, seriousl-! …” Kokichi suddenly fell silent as you fell on your face, only sounds of him choking back holding back his own loud laughter. But the boy could only hold back for so long, and as you raised your head from the field, you could hear him just fucking losing it. 

Turning around and glaring directly at him, you stumbled back to your feet, jogging towards one of your lost heels before hurling it directly at Kokichi’s stomach. “Take that you little shit!” Now you were the one laughing at his misery. In the end the heel didn’t do what you wanted it to, as he just kept on laughing, only now wheezing from the hilarity of the situation and for the air you knocked out of him. 

Hearing his crazy horse laughter fill the air, you couldn’t help but laugh just as loud, along with him. You jogged up to his hysterical figure, falling down next to him, your own giggles mingling in with his. He turned his head to you, pointing at your face weakly, before throwing his head back and laughing even louder. 

Eventually, the laughter calmed, both of you just bathing in the afterglow of the extreme euphoria you both had felt. Kokichi turned his head again, staring at you in thought. Noticing his eyes, you took your eyes off the sky, catching his seemingly whipped gaze, “What?” 

He smiled, “Even though you look like a maid who had just went through hell to try and escape her traumatizing slave prison life, you still look cute.” Admitting with no hesitation and way too many details, he watched in amusement as your face flushed. “And borderline sexy too. I am loving the sexy prisoner look.” He added, catching you off guard as you flushed even harder. 

He sighed lovingly, “You know, I’d gladly pay you to stay in that dress... And I’m not lying.” You scoffed and looked at him in disbelief, Kokichi frowning back, “Hey! Don’t look at me like that! You know damn well, you look hot in those tights.” He drifted his eyes lower and lower, tilting his head to get a better view- before you suddenly chopped him. 

Wincing from the hit, he started bawling, “Uwah! How meeeaan! And to do that to your master too! How could you!?” Here come the waterworks. You only grimaced, right before decreasing your face in defeat, deciding to play along, “Fine. I’m sorry then,” Sighing, “Master.” You groaned out, clearly unhappy with the title Kokichi had forced on himself. Kokichi went light-headed as soon as he heard that word come out your lips, smiling like a goof, he only gawked at you. 

Shooting your head back to him, you were concerned as to why he was suddenly quiet. Was there something wrong with him? Did he pass out? “Master?” You called him by his title, shaking his tiny figure. The expression on his face showed pure bliss, “Just kiss me already.” 

He snapped out of it for a second, eyes darting to yours. You glared at him, in which he simply glared back, a challenging smirk on his face, differing greatly from his expression from earlier, “That’s an order~” 

Blinking at the statement, you gave in to your demise, slowly leaning down to kiss his forehead lightly, a flush on your face. Pressing your lips lightly against his skin, you pulled away shortly, lingering no longer than you had to. However short it was, that alone seemed to do it for him, as you swore you saw hearts shoot out from the spot in which you pecked. 

Giggling strangely, he rested on the field, completely surrendering his body to the earth as he went limp. “Nishi… My maid loooves me!” You stayed silent at the bold remark, wanting to refute but you knew he’d just figure out your lies. 

... Even so, you refused to admit it, “You fucking wish.” Snorting, you pushed his face away from you gently, cackling as you heard his whining.

[kanene-yaaay]

Full of Life

Random Notes: This fanfic contains Cheer Up Tickles, Mouth Tickles, Rapberries, Tickly Kisses, Gang Up Tickles, Nice Nicknames, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and the power of friendship. This fic is about 3.000 words. This fic is Lee!Patton with Ler!Logan and Ler!Roman with also implied Lee!Logan. Virgil is mentioned. I did not prrofreaded this yet :’v.

Kanene’s Notes: Heya!! Holy gosh, I started this fic with a very clear direction in mind and then proceeded to ignore it xDD. Gosh, I literally forgot how natural writing can feel. I hope you have as fun reading this as I did writing it. <3

[~*~]

Patton was not sure how Logan knew about the Blanket Rule, but he did. Maybe they talked about this one day.

 About how, when Patton opened Logan's door and immediately went to hide under the grey comforter of his friend's room, that meant he didn't want any kind of contact. No touches. No words. No acknowledgment.

 And Logan respected that. He was just so good like that.

 Actually, in Patton's opinion, Logan was amazingly good at a handful of things, but especially in dealing with sad days.

 They didn't expect sad days to go as smoothly as they did in each others' company, but now that they lived through tough and hard moments, it really couldn't go any other way.

 Logan, for his part, didn't know how to comfort and preferred the silence instead of the possibility of saying the wrong thing and upsetting the person further, obligating him to deal with things he hardly understood, such as feelings. And, in Patton's turn, he would rather cry and let himself feel all the bad emotions far away from any judgmental eyes or unsolicited advices.

 Now, Patton wasn't really sure what he had to offer on Logan's Bad Days, but the other confirmed that he helped with such certainty and unavoidable security that it left no other options than trusting on his words.

 Patton trusted him. A lot.

 The cat lover mused this sentence on his brain, trying to focus better on his senses than the overwhelming thoughts that fought desperately for his attention. It was also good that Logan's house wasn't the quietest, too. Above the heat that started to bring his mind to the present and to the now, Patton could hear the sound of Roman in the kitchen, talking fiercely on the phone, hitting by accident - between curses and 'Who the hell put this here?' - cabinets, pans and bouncy containers.

 He chuckled. It was a low sound, barely there.

 But still.

There was also the quiet sound of Logan moving the books and cups from his table, turning on his computer and typing.

 Also, there were cars passing outside. Cars filled with people and sometimes even pets. There were purring cats and lazy dogs and families out there. Stars and fireflies and kids laughing because their parents finally gave in and bought them ice cream before dinner. There was the wind ruffling someone else's hair, a parrot learning new words and an old couple enjoying a cup of coffee on a low night who could, as well, be found outside.

 There was so much life outside.

 His hand touched his chest and Patton felt his heartbeats and the way his torso would go up and down at every breath. The way the comforter squished under his fingers in a feeling of soft and secure and...

 There was life inside too.

 There was a vivid life in the way Logan put one of their favorite movies, letting the opening to fly unashamed across the room in a silent invitation.

 There was life in the way Patton knew that, the moment he opened the door, the smell of baked goodies would fill his senses and his heart.

 And in the way the stars kept their light and the planets their rotation and meteors continued to fly around that gigantic amount of things we call the Universe, as if nothing else really mattered.

 And...

 And maybe that was true.

 Maybe, while the stars were in the sky, the cats continued to purr, a child kept bothering their parents for a snack and best friends kept caring about you during your bad days...

  Maybe then nothing else mattered.

 Patton pushed the blanket away from him, taking a deep breath. 

 It was much less stuffy outside.

 "Logan." The other turned in his direction immediately, fondly scoffing when he found the other making grabby hands in his direction. A couple of seconds later his hoodie was flying across the room and falling from Patton's awaiting arms, since his skill of catching things was still a work in progress.

 After a few seconds and a couple more, Patton found himself melting on his friend's half hug, watching the movie - which had to be played again from the beginning, since when Patton arrived it was already in the middle of the plot’s clímax, but neither commented on it - and barely jumping on the bean bag when Roman opened the door with no discretion.

 "If that is a sad movie that I hear I will slay you all. Except for you, Patty Cake, I will fight for you." He came in, phone still pressed between his shoulder and ear, his hands too occupied in not letting the bows full of cookies, popcorn, chocolate and a lonely pot of ice cream to fall. He lightly hit Patton's thigh with his foot. "Move, I'm gay."

 "Hi gay, I’m Patton." He chuckled, that time it sounded a bit stronger.

 "We are not eating this absurd amount of sugar." Logan replied, profusely ignoring Patton's pun.

 "Thank you for your input, Microsoft Nerd." Roman answered with a joyful, fake tune, totally unfazed by Logan's half not-amused and half but-also-not-surprised stare. "If you have any complaints in regards to the attendant's service we ask for you to fill a complaint form that will be carefully read by our team, who will do their best to apply the necessary changes in a near future. Roman's company-" a loud gasp cut his words when Logan forcefully grabbed one bowl and took part of the cookies and chocolates inside it. "Hey! This is mine!"

 "No, this is Virgil's. He won't be able to come for our movie night so he asked us to keep some food for him."

 "Do you think if we watch more movies we will be able to wait for him to come back?" Patton questioned.

 "I can't say for certain since I am not sure how long his date will be."

 Roman snorted. "If I taught him well, he is not coming for tonight. Gotta enjoy the-" Patton shoved a cookie on Roman's face, successfully stopping his sentence.

 "Nope!" He smiled, now proceeding to shove a cookie on his own mouth before trying to give Logan the same treatment, pouting when he saw that the other was already munching a sweet, eyeing him warily. He unpaused the movie. "He is my baby brother and I'm not thinking about that!"

 The movie night started quiet. For today, quiet was more than nice to Patton.

 Then, in the part when the protagonist learned that there was magic in her world, Logan grabbed his hand and started to trace lightly, in slow shapes all the way over the lines across his palm, his fingers sometimes traveling to his pulse and forearm in a few swirls before going back to the previous spot. A small, however permanent smile began to gleam on Patton’s face.

 He knew this was going to happen. Logan was one of his first friends who discovered his liking for tickling somewhere on the beginning of their journey to their friendship, as well as how comforting that activity could be for him.

 A faint blush still dotted his cheeks when he thought about that. Today was not an exception, the soft touches made butterflies wiggle their wings in excitement on his tummy, a wobbly tune taking over his smile, especially when he saw Logan’s slight grin at his quiet reactions.

 Patton glued his eyes on the screen, refusing to acknowledge his friend’s antics, which led to a yelp escaping from his barriers when a hand rested on his side, pulling him closer to the half hug and sneaking a couple of pokes on the ticklish spot.

 “You good, Pat?” Roman quirked an eyebrow in his direction and Patton felt his face get hottier, giggles beginning to bubble in his throat when the pokes evolved to a drag of fingers that went up to his ribs and then down, back to his hips, blunt nails spiraling and teasing carefully the sensitive skin. He did his best to not squeal and squirm away.

 “Yes! I aham.” He beamed, trying to dislodge the walking tickles and dissipate the giddy energy spreading across his nerves. “I just really like this sce-eene!”

 Logan hummed innocently under Patton’s pout thrown in his direction, as if didn’t just squeeze his side right when he was talking. “I believe it’s an important scene for the plot, yes.”

  Roman squinted his eyes at the screen. "She's literally just asleep.”

 “Yeah!” Patton giggled, scrunching his nose as he did so. “I think that part is very-” Logan decided that was a very good time to concentrate his efforts on prodding and exploring every single ticklish inch of his right lowest rib, knowing very well each weak spot and wasting not a single effort to put his best friend in stitches. Patton felt his resolve break, uncontrollable titters pouring from his lips. “Funny!” He squealed. “Very, very funny!”

 “Really, can you explain why you think that, please?”

 “Logan!”

 “I am merely curious to understand your concept of humor, Patton.” Logan mused, finally letting go of his hand to attack his sides, making the cat lover to clap his hands on his mouth, hiding the snorts who were trying to fly from his lips. “Maybe I will even start to see why you’re so adamant on making so many puns on your daily basis.”

 Patton shook his head, giving up from trying to not react to his friend’s attack in order to wiggle away from his curious hands and silly scribbly fingers. Sadly, he ended up making the mistake of turning his back to Roman, who, watching the whole ordeal, let a devilish smirk take over his face.

 Before Patton could even protest against Logan’s words, two arms hugged him from bei, hands squirming to rest, in a mock of safety, on his armpits. “Hey, Specs, guess what!”

 “No! Roman!” Patton squeaked, kicking at the feeling of one more attack concentrated on another ticklish spot, crackles beginning to paint his laughter here and there as Roman’s fingers began to tease the skin, his thumbs just barely twitching on the place, fingers clawing at his high ribs. “No, no, please!”

 “Yes, Roman?” Logan answered, using the opportunity to give the other a break and stop his tickling.

 “You know what I realized? That Patty Cake here,” Patton’s giggles only got higher when Roman decided to nuzzle his neck, words coming out muffled as they hit the sensitive skin. “Who has the purest, sweetest dazzling smile, haven’t told us how amazing he is today.”

 “Nonono, please not this! Not this!” Patton turned to Logan, who was the more susceptible and within his field of view. He put the best puppy eyes he could muster through his giggles and uncontrollable titters that still fell from his lips. “Lo-lo,” he pouted in order to give his face a stronger power. Logan stared at him as a deed caught in the light. “Plehehea- nahaha!” A shriek flew from his mouth. “Roman, not fair!”

 Roman smirked, dramatically preparing himself for another raspberry.

 “Don’t even think about using your evil Puppy Eyes on our defenseless Microsoft Nerd!” He drowned Logan’s protest by making Patton shriek with another attack. Peals of loud laughter filled the room when he decided to release smaller raspberries, traveling from one side to other of the cat lover’s neck.

“Anyway,” Logan ruffed, concentrating a sea of squeezes on Patton’s knees as a revenge, relishing in the way his blush travelled over all his face when snorts and squeals began to become more and more frequent. “You were talking about making Patton tell us something?”

“Oh, yeah! I was thinking about being really nice today, since our dear Laffy Taffy Patty looks a bit tired.” As the words came out of his mouth, Roman changed his technique to something softer, watching amused as Patton wiggled non when he decided to drag his fingers on his sides, scribbling them to his chin - and, of course, resting a couple of kisses on his neck, he wasn’t a monster - and them tapping his way down, this time choosing to give a bit of attention to his shaky tummy. “So we could just make him admit something small and simple, really! You won’t even notice when the words come out, dear!” He changed his attention to the victim on his arms, hugging him close and nuzzling him.

“Please! Not there, not there!!” Patton tried to dislodge the other’s tickly affection from his ears and neck, but being constantly distracted by Logan, who kept sneaking horribly, unbearable scratches to the sensitive skin under his knees everytime he stopped trying to pry his hands from his legs. “I wihihill give you my cohohokies! All of them! Plehehease.”

“That is very kind of you, Patton. However, I think it isn’t very polite of you to interrupt Roman like that.” Logan tsked, now letting  go of both his knees to concentrate his efforts in tormenting the weak spots of just one. “Please, I do ask for you to refrain from laughing about such a serious matter. I can almost believe you’re not taking your cheering up as seriously as we are.”

“I am! I am!!”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“Because you-” he snorted, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “You are t-tickling me!”

Logan’s eyes lit up with mischief, a playful wink being thrown at Roman’s direction before he returned his gaze to the previously-sad friend. “I can guarantee you I am not.” 

“Falsehohohood!”

“Very well.” The one with an unicorn onesie lifted his arms, crossing them on his chest just as the other attacker also stopped his tickling. “See? I am not even touching you. And yet you’re still giggling yourself silly as, ah, Roman would say.”

Patton clamped his mouth shut, trying to keep the remainescent giggles trapped on his chest, a slight feeling of dejavu hitting him. He shook his head.

“No? You’re not a Smiley Laffy Taffy, you say?”

“Stop stealing my sweet nicknames!”

Just as the one with a big, truly gigantic smile would shake his head again, his giggling actually being subdued, Roman decided that was just the perfect moment to vibrate his hands on his lower stomach, his barrier crumbling, again, in a matter of seconds.

“Roman!”

“I see.” Logan mused, in between Patton’s high pitched squeaks when the other failed to cease his attack. “So, you're a serious case of Giggle Bug.”

“Am not!” He cried in protest, holding Roman’s pulse, not really trying to push it away.

“Oh, no!” Roman dramatically cried, fishing more laughter from the puppy lover. “What are we going to do Patton? Are we doomed to hear your cute, amazing giggly giggles and delightful laughter forever and ever and ever? What shall we do, Specs?”

Logan sighs, deep and serious, adjusting his glasses. “I fear there is nothing we can do except mitigate this unfortunate situation. As you can see…” Logan poked Patton’s torso, prodding some of the most ticklish ribs with a tiny, soft smile when the other bounced around, happy yelps pouring from his lips. He cleaned his throat, going back to the character. “This ribcage is full of all sorts of trapped squeals, snorts, squeaks, titters and giggles. As Patton’s friends, we must free them all to help him.”

“Crofters!” Patton suddenly blurted out, his laughter almost making the words untelligible. “I will tell you where Ro-ro keeps his Crof-nahahaha!” Patton squirmed when Roman kneaded his hips, a mischief glint still present on his smile. “Rohohoman!”

“Dishonesty! Trickery! Treason!” The one with red pajamas protested with a betrayed shriek. “Patton! After all the adventures we had gone through, after accepting you in my family as a brother, how could you do that to me? Oh, jail for friend! Jail for the Giggle Bug for one thousand of years!”

“I am sorry! I am very sahahaharrey!” Patton’s eyes widened when he saw Roman form a claw with his both hands, slowly descending them to his belly. “Waitwaitwait! Ro! Ro-ro! Ple-please!”

“No can do, Patty Cake.” Roman sighed in faux sadness, wiggling his fingers for a good effect. “Now I have no alternative except having to getcha, getcha, getcha! Your yummy tummy is all mine, now. ~”

But then nothing happened.

Roman’s hands stopped, leaving a puddle of giggly Patton to basically melt more in his embrace, lost in titters and phantom tickles.

“Oh,” Roman said, carefully, the tune of his voice making a shiver run across Logan’s spine. “Hello, Logan.”

Logan accepted his fate, trying another experimental squeeze at the dramatic friend’s side and receiving, just like his first try a few seconds ago, no reaction. He sighed. “I presume you’re not ticklish on your sides, then.”

“And I presume it just takes the mention of Crofters to make you turn the tables.” Roman gave Patton a last quick kiss on his neck, gaining another happy giggle before ruffling his hair. “Excuse me, Giggly Bug, it seems like our dear Blushy Bear is craving for a bit of my tickly attention right now.”

Patton hugged his sides, smile shiny as the sun, the clouds which previously assaulted him haven been already disappeared for a long time, now. His gleaming eyes glued on Logan, smile widening when he remembered he was the one who started everything.

“Get him, Ro-ro!”

And, as pleas and teases felt the air, Patton took another deep breath, letting his friends have some fun before he turned the tables at Roman, since he also deserved some good, nice tickles for being such a caring friend. Soon enough Logan’s laughter rang across the room and Patton only smiled wider.

Full of life, indeed.

[aubreyprc]

when I cheated it did

46 - are they really just a friend

summary - during hotch and haley’s separation, he has a thing with Emily. Haley pulls him up about it when he comes to her about the divorce papers and one confession later, he lands right back at emilys door once again.

word count - 2.6k - the way this was just supposed to be the hotch / haley scene and now it’s ?? this is just an example of how unwell i am in my head <33

She always told herself that no matter what she did, who she slept with or who she became she would never be the other woman never be the reason a child never saw their father, never be the reason why a child should grow up the same way she had to, never be part of an affair, yet when she finds herself sleeping with her married boss, she tells herself its okay because he's separated, that its not an affair if his wife left him, that she isn't the other woman if the wife is out of the picture, even if the couple still wear the rings on their fingers, even if they're still legally married.

She tells herself its fine because he and Haley are separated, she tells herself its different because Hotch still see's his son, she tells herself she isn't like the woman her father married after leaving her and her mother because she would never allow Hotch to abandon his family, she tells herself its not an affair, that its not the same, because otherwise the guilt would eat her alive, she tells herself its different because she can't end it, and the minute she allows herself to register that, separated or not, he is married she would have to.

"You okay?" he asks as he steps into the bathroom. He stands behind her, placing soft kisses on her neck as he wraps her in his arms, his hand locking over her abdomen as she smirks at him through the mirror, tilting her head to the side as he began to undo her robe with a playful smirk of his own. Laughing, she leans her back into him, resting against his chest safely as he places a kiss on her cheek.

"Yeah," she sighs contently, lacing her fingers through his own with a raised eyebrow, stopping him from pulling the robe open. He walks them backwards, a smile on his lips as he presses them into her neck, only to be interrupted by his phone and he curses his under breath as he digs through his pockets to find it, still keeping her wrapped up in him with one arm over her waist.

"Hotchner," he answers, winking at her when their eyes catch in the mirror. "Of course, we will be right in." he says, ending the call as quickly as he answered it. "We have a case." he tells her, kissing her cheek before exiting the bathroom, and she simply watches him go, a small smile on her face as her cheek burns from the touch of his lips, has to force herself to remember that this is casual, that they can't that they never will be anything more than what they are now, reminds herself that he will go back to Haley, and reminds herself that if she gets attached, she will get hurt, and pushes down her feelings, refusing to acknowledge the ache in her chest at the thought of this... them being over.

They, of course, spend their nights together in the hotel. He makes sure to get a room at the end of the hall, away from prying eyes and ears and in different cities he can take her hand in the hotel bar when the team have left, he can kiss her softly in the streets in the dark when he sneaks them both out in the dead of night, in different cities when the team isn't around he can pretend their not a secret, she can pretend there are no consequence's and they can pretend its just them.

They make plans to go to her place, the two of them denying drinks with the team for different reasons with a sneaky look to each other that no one notices and they're halfway out of the door when he's served with the papers, and suddenly nothing about them feels the way it had over the last three months and she can only watch him go as the knot in her stomach tightens, can only creep past the team and rush into the bathroom and breathe, leaning her head against the door as she tries to calm down, her heart hammering in her chest while she closes her eyes, taking deep breaths in hope that it will get rid of her nausea. Her mind spins, memories of them flashing in front of her eyes and she wants to scream, unsure of where this leaves them... leaves her.

-

Hotch all but storms out of the office and towards his car, slamming the door behind him as he throws the papers onto the passenger seat, embarrassment igniting in his body at what just happened. He’s their boss and now his personal life will be spreading like wild fire around the office, something he never wanted. He drives with fury, his whole body running on fumes as he thinks back to the look of pity written on all their faces. Yet, that embarrassment changes to something he can’t quite describe, an ache in his gut, as his mind lands on Emily. He curses to himself as he realises he left without so much as a glance in her direction, already hating how he knows exactly what she is thinking, about how fragile her trust is, especially in him, in them, the unsurety of their... situation something that lingers between them whenever they are together, even if it does go ignored.

He wonders for half a moment, why in the same hour he was handed divorce papers, he is far more concerned with Emily, about how she is, about how they are, but the moment ends as he pulls up outside his old home; he grabs the papers, the anger and embarrassment swooping right back in, taking over.

He knocks on the door of the house that just four months ago, used to be his own and waits, taking a breath as the lock clicks.

“What are you doing here?” Haley asks as she opens the door. “Jack’s asleep.”

“You didn’t think to call me before you had divorce papers sent to the office?” he asks, holding up the papers. “Do you know how humiliating that is?”

“I didn’t know where else to send them.” she explains.

“You could have called. I would-"

“I could have called?” she laughs, “Aaron, I don’t even know if you’re in the city half the time. I knew if I sent them to the office, at least you’d find them.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he says, shaking his head, “Not only do you not even talk to me about separating in the first place, but you throw these in my face as well?”

“Will you stop shouting?” she hisses, pulling him inside with his sleeves. “You’re doing to attract the neighbours.”

“I don’t care about the neighbours,” he mutters, throwing the papers into the glass table and turning to face her. “You should have called me.”

“Why?” she questions, “I’ve given you months, to try and fix this, to do something that shows you still care but I’ve had nothing from you, not unless it’s about Jack.” she sighs, “I don’t have anymore time to give you, Aaron.”

“Would it have changed anything? If I’d have tried harder?” he questions.

When she looks to the ground, he has his answer, and all of a sudden he doesn’t feel that guilty about Emily anymore.

“Then I guess it’s a good job I didn’t waste my time trying.” he tells her and she scoffs, shaking her head.

“God you,” she stops, looking at him, “You really don’t get it do you?”

“Get what?”

“That I didn’t just wait three months for you, Aaron. I feel like I've been waiting for you ever since you made Unit Chief three years ago.” she tells him, “It’s like we were never enough for you, you always had to be somewhere else.”

“I was doing my job-"

“Yeah,” she says, “I know. I’m not having this argument with you again.” Haley tells him, “I’m sorry I didn’t call you about the papers, I should have warned you I was filing for divorce.”

It almost seems then that there’s nothing left to say, that if almost ten years of marriage has come down to an argument in the living room of a house he no longer lives in when she speaks again.

“You don’t feel you have anything to apologise for?” Haley questions, and his head snaps up to look at her.

“What?” he says, “Of course I do, I have a lot to apologise for but..”

“But?” she laughs.

“But I’m not going to stand here and take the blame for the fall out of our marriage when we know full well you stepped out months before you walked out.” he tells her and she stares at him with shock.

“You don’t get to throw that in my face,” She hisses at him, “You don’t get to act like you haven’t been— I may have made some mistakes but do not stand there and tell me you hadn't thought about doing the same thing.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Emily..” she shouts, “are they really just a friend?” she asks him, “You must think I’m stupid. And don’t stand here and tell me the two of you aren’t something, I’ve seen the two of you, don’t make me out to be the cheater here.”

“You slept with someone else, Haley. While we were together. This is not the same."

“I needed someone, Aaron. And you weren’t here.” she shouts, “You were never here.”

“So that makes it okay?” he shouts back.

“No.” she sighs, anger boiling beneath her skin, “but how many times do I have to tell that when I cheated it didn’t mean anything?” she asks him loudly. He turns to face her, seeing complete red as they come to blows for the first time since she walked out.

“Well then that’s a waste, because when I cheated it did.” he says back to her, before taking a breath, watching as she nods her head slowly and wipes her tears. "I—"

"I guess you were right then," she says softly, "its certainly not the same..."

"Haley—"

"Don't," she tells him, "do you love her?" she asks, and he drops his head to the floor because he didn't have an answer, he didn't know. The only word he can think being maybe.

"Then there's nothing left to say," she says quietly, "we can't come back from this, Aaron. We were over the moment she joined the team... we were over the moment we both found comfort with someone else." she walks over to him, places her hand in his as they look at each other. “Sign the papers, Aaron. Set us free." she whispers, before smiling sadly and walking away, he simply watches, before grabbing the papers and walking out of the door, drives mindlessly with no destination in mind while he replays the moment his marriage ended once and for all.

When I had cheated it didn't mean anything.

When I cheated it did.

-

He finds himself parking in front of her apartment, as if he had driven there unconsciously and he sighs, closing his eyes as he leans his head against the back of the seat. With a deep breath he composes himself, looks at the papers and gets out of the car, heading into her building with the hope that she would at least just talk to him.

-

She’s in her own little bubble, wrapped up in an old sweatshirt as she stares out of the window, blowing the smoke from her mouth when three knocks at her door spook her out of her trance. She flicks the cigarette out of the window and stands, pulling the jumper down over her shorts as she heads towards the door, looking through the peep hole she sighs as he sees him, leaning her head on the door before she opens it, resting against the frame as he stands in front of her.

“Hi,” she says softly, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” he replies in such a delicate tone she swears she’s never heard from him before. “I was hoping we could talk?”

“What’s there to talk about?” she asks, dropping the side of her head onto the door frame as she wraps an arm around her front.

“Us...” he says hesitatingly, knowing putting a name on them at this stage is risky.

“Aaron...” she sighs, looking to the floor. “Us, is a string of late night hook up’s in hotels across the country, a hand full in my apartment, behind closed doors...” she tells him, “We’re casual sex at best. You have a family, a son, a wife.”

“A wife who’s filing for divorce.” he reminds her, “Please, can we just talk?”

She looks at him, opening the door wider and stepping aside as he walks through.

“Have you been smoking?” he asks as she follows him through the hall.

“I’m not nineteen anymore,” she smirks, “you can’t tell my mother.”

“I never did.” he says with a playful smile of his own, “You were just lousy at hiding it.”

“Yes well, it seems I was lousy about hiding a lot of things.” she jokes, “Do you want a drink?”

“Sure,” he says, taking the beer from her with a smile. “I thought you quit?” he asks her, tilting his head towards the open window.

“I did,” She says, “For a little while.” there’s almost a sadness in her voice, one that makes him stare just that little bit longer at her, noticing that she almost can’t meet his eye. “I guess I’m a sucker for bad habits." she mumbles, meeting his eye finally and he simply smiles.

"What are you doing here, Aaron?" she sighs, "I can't kept doing this dance with you, I—" she stops, shaking her head, "what do you want from me?"

"Nothing," he tells her, "I just wanted you to know that there is an us, that this isn't just casual anymore... that we are something, that we can be something." he adds, looking at her as she stares back at him, hesitance written all over her face. "Give me time, let me get Jack through the transition... and I will come back to you. We can try, properly." he tells her, smiling when she lets out a laugh, her own smile growing on her face. "I'm signing the papers. Not for you. Not for us. But for me. For Haley. For Jack." he tells her, "my marriage was over long before you were became part of the picture. It's time." he says, standing right in front of her and he smiles. "Maybe in a few months I can take you on that date I promised..." he whispers and she smirks.

"You never promised to take me on a date." she tells him softly, and he places a finger under her chin, leaning forward slightly.

"I have now." he whispers, before kissing her. "Give me thirty days." he tells her as they separate, and she laughs.

"Okay." she accepts, "I only eat in fancy restaurants." she tells him as he heads for the door and he turns, smiling at her.

"Noted." he winks, before leaving her apartment, hope building in both of their chests for a future together they can now work for, rather than ignore. 

[altariaas]

your face all made up (living on a screen) 

Adrien knows, to some degree, that it’s the important things that are the most important to say out loud, but it would help to know that someone’s actually listening. It would also help if things would stop breaking every time he acknowledged his emotions, too. 

i’ve taken a total of three steps into this fandom but sure, let’s skip to season 4 and fall face-first into the Angst™, as it goes. I just think Adrien should get a little raw powers of destruction sneaking out of control in his daily life. as a treat. Post-Rocketear so lots of spoilers etc.

Adrien walks home from the fight against Nino’s akuma with a raging headache, a developing case of massive anxiety, and a purpling bruise the size of a basketball on his shin.

The last one isn’t actually from the akuma. Those injuries got neatly miraculoused away, along with Nino’s heartbroken betrayal. No, the bruise is from Adrien’s incredibly stupid attempt to funnel his tornado of emotions into something concrete by kicking the front gate, only to completely miss and slam his shin into the solid steel rungs instead, sending him stumbling back in a pained fit of trying to think up creative curse words that won’t result in his father murdering him if he overhears.

Metaphorically, of course. Father’s not a murderer, except when it comes to the slow death of Adrien’s social life.

Though he really…can’t entirely blame that on Father, either.

And there comes the developing case of anxiety. Adrien swallows, a feeble attempt to banish the souring feeling in his stomach and the aching tightness in his chest. He wraps his arms around himself, staring up at the mansion and fighting the increasing urge to run. The inside of his cheek stings as he chews at it, already abused from how hard he’d bitten there earlier when Nino had started making…observations. Accusations. Wildly misdirected statements that definitely aren’t any insight to how Nino truly feels about what might be the truest version of Adrien’s slowly splintering self, if he’s going to be dramatic about it.

Overly passionate, Father’s voice echoes hollowly somewhere in the back of his head. Prone to fits of drama, just like his mother.

Spinning abruptly on his heel, Adrien beats a steady path away from the mansion gates and toward…somewhere. Somewhere that won’t make that developing case of anxiety worse, and where no one can witness his fits of drama.

The urge to send the front camera a rude gesture in farewell is violently stifled as Adrien keeps his arms wrapped tightly around himself, like the action will keep everything in neat and perfect and safe from view. He feels more than hears Plagg rustle curiously in his front pocket, but Adrien ignores the action, keeping his eyes fixed ahead.

Then the sharp reminder of how it felt when Ladybug ignored him in favor of Rena Rouge comes back and bites him solidly in the guilty part of his feelings, so Adrien pats his front pocket reassuringly.

“Just taking the long way home,” he murmurs.

Plagg’s eyes are calculating, almost greener than usual as they stare at him, and Adrien feels uncomfortably perceived. Not in the cold, bug-under-a-microscope way he feels sometimes when Father looks at him, but a hot kind of uncomfortable, the way he feels when someone looks right past the Adrien Agreste mask and sees—

What? What do they see? An awkward boy stumbling back against a wall because he never learned what his real self was supposed to look like? Hollow flirting and annoying with a capital a?

Fits of drama, Adrien reminds himself. He shouldn’t take it so close to heart. Not when Nino looked so devastated, so heartbroken. Not when Ladybug’s been giving him uncomfortably clear signs that Nino might’ve been right.

“If you say so, kid,” Plagg finally replies. “But I better get that camembert sooner than later.”

A half-smile tugs at Adrien’s mouth. “Sure, Plagg.”

At least Plagg still wants him around, masks and all. It’s a small comfort, but Adrien clings to it, his arms tightening around himself. Sure, things didn’t go…wonderfully, today, but it’s not all so bad. He got slammed into a van a couple of times, and maybe a couple of busted ribs, but that’s nothing, comparatively. And sure, Father’s finding more flaws in him to coldly evaluate than usual, and Nathalie’s growing paler and sicker by the day, and Ladybug’s either freezing him out bit by bit or starting to forget about him entirely and he isn’t sure which is worse, and his schedule is slipping further and further from manageable by the day and Nino dislikes a side of him so much it sent him straight into an akuma and—

“—kid, stop!”

Adrien’s thoughts cut off abruptly as his foot catches, his sense of balance going horizontal as he stumbles, and proceeds to nearly slam the rest of him face-first into the concrete. Plagg’s sharp warning echoes in his ears as he rights himself with a panicked yelp, hopping once while frantically hoping no one was around to see — whatever that was.

“Kid,” Plagg starts, but he doesn’t finish. He’s left the front pocket, his eyes bright green as he stares at him.

Adrien blinks, shaking the slight sense of vertigo off. “Sorry, sorry, I—”

Huh. What did he do? Rubbing the back of his head, Adrien glances at the street he stumbled over. He frowns.

The culprit is a jagged, snaking tear in the concrete, half a meter deep and the length of Adrien’s arm. He stares at the spiderwebbing cracks that branch out of it, fine grains of crushed concrete already scattering in the slight wind.

Weird, he thinks. He doesn’t remember fighting Nino this far down the street. Lucky Charm should’ve fixed that, even if he did.

“Adrien,” Plagg says, and there’s an uncharacteristically cautious edge in his voice. “What was that?”

Adrien cups a hand around Plagg, running a finger over his head in apology as he draws him out of view again. “Lost in thought, I guess,” he says, ducking his head. “Sorry.”

Plagg doesn’t reply, still staring at him with a look Adrien can’t quite identify. He feels oddly disoriented, like he actually did fall and hit his head, and now it’s spinning in retaliation. Across the street in front of him, the stoplight flickers — red, then orange, then red again. It flickers out entirely, before snapping back to a bright, acidic green. Adrien rubs his eyes.

“Let’s…let’s go home,” Plagg finally says, tucking himself back in Adrien’s shirt pocket. He doesn’t entirely meet Adrien’s eyes as he does, but he curls up against his chest, solid and warm, and it’s almost enough to banish the ache that lies beneath.

“Okay,” he says, softly. “Home, then.”

————

There’s a memory Adrien has, from when he was younger. It’s one he holds tightly to his chest, tattered and frayed as it is.

He was much smaller than he is now — barely six years-old, maybe, and small enough to hide behind the large statues his mother would put funny hats on to make his father laugh. She’d done just that earlier, standing tiptoed on the staircase as she’d slipped a terrible orange bowler hat on the pretty lady Nathalie said was from Greece. Adrien had giggled behind his fingers and his father had laughed, an unfamiliar sound that’s faded in memory now, but a bright and real one nonetheless.

It had been a good day, until mother had come down with a cold during dinner and Adrien had jolted out of sleep from a nightmare about giant, ugly orange hats that snatched up his mother with their ribbon-like fingers and took her away from him forever.

He’d sprinted through the house like the horrible hat monsters from his dream were on his heels, slipping in his socks up to the cracked door of his father’s study.

He hadn’t needed to knock, then, or even schedule a meeting. He’d slid through the doorway and barreled into his father, only to be caught by strong arms and swept into his father’s lap, warm and safe from any monsters that dared to follow him here.

“I’m worried about your mother, too,” his father had said. “But it’s just a cold, you see? Nothing to go slipping and falling down the stairs about.”

He’d received nothing but a sniffle in response.

“Alright.” Fingers had pinched around his nose as his father sighed. “How about we read a story then, until you’re not so frightened? Just you and me.”

The book they’d started that night was about a prince and a planet and a rose, and Adrien still remembers the sound his father’s voice made as it resonated where Adrien’s cheek pressed against his chest, his arms holding tight and warm around him, like nothing bad could slip in from outside and hurt him.

It’s a favorite memory of his, one Adrien finds springing back to mind whenever Father gives him a smile, half-formed and distanced as they are.

Lately, though, it’s a memory that stings to think about. It makes it harder to look Father in the eye, for some reason.

————

“And like, I really can’t say this enough, but I’m so sorry.”

“I told you, Nino, it’s fi—”

“No seriously, dude, I’m really sorry, I—”

“Nino.”

His friend finally jerks out from his puddle of miserable apologies, and Adrien gives him a weary smile. “It’s fine. You didn’t hurt me.”

“I dragged you into the boiler room then got akumatized,” Nino says, distressed. “That’s worse than like, the plot of eight different horror movies.”

“Your head was shaped like a giant blue tear, it wasn’t that scary,” Adrien assures him.

“I am ninety percent sure I remember shoving you to the floor,” Nino moans, not reassured in the least.

Part of Adrien’s mind, the part that sounds a little too much like a spurned cat whom hell hath no fury, or however the saying goes, wants to pipe up with the fact that getting shoved to the floor was five-star treatment compared to what Nino (akuma, Nino’s akuma, that’s important) had proceeded to do to him afterwards.

The bus-slamming thing had hurt.

Not as much as hurting Nino would’ve, though.

So instead, Adrien gives Nino the kindest smile he can, lays a gentle hand on his arm, and says, “As if the akuma gave you the biceps to pull that off.”

“Hey,” Nino knocks their shoulders together, his guilt ridden expression easing just a bit as he gives him a half-hearted grin. “I’m ripped, bro.”

It takes Adrien a moment to reply, too busy fighting the overwhelmingly — traitor — urge to follow the warmth of contact with Nino like a starving animal. He doesn’t need to fight for too long — his brain throws everyone thinks you’re a joke at him just in time for Adrien to hunch his shoulders in and give Nino an awkward little grin of his own.

Maybe his brain’s a traitor too, though, because he doesn’t remember Nino even saying that about Chat Noir.

He thinks.

Hopes.

Actually, his brain can go sit in a corner if it’s going to keep throwing stuff like this at him. Shaking anything and everything knowledge-wise that belongs to Chat Noir from his mind, Adrien turns his attention back to the scribbled game of hangman they’ve been playing on the corner of Nino’s history notes. Group projects are supposed to be fun, anyways, especially with Nino.

“Uh, c,” he guesses.

Nino adds a single c to the blank letter spaces. Adrien squints at the paper, his mouth downturning at the suspiciously familiar arrangement he has so far.

_adia_t, ca_ef_ee, d_ea_y

“Nino,” he says, carefully.

Nino smirks. “Mm-hm.”

“If this has anything to do with perfume ads—”

“Uh-huh?”

“Then I hate you.”

Nino cackles, scribbling in the rest of the rest of the accursed phrase as Max loudly hushes him. Adrien rolls his eyes and huffs, but he’s unable to stop the small smile of amusement. It quickly fades as his words to Nino echo with an uncomfortable emphasis in his head.

You’re being stupid, he tells himself. Adrien pushes away the nagging feeling. Nino knows he’s not serious. He knows Adrien doesn’t actually hate him. Just like Adrien knows Nino didn’t mean it, when he said all that stuff about Chat Noir.

His fingers tighten around his pencil. He’s not supposed to be thinking about that. Nino apologized, to Chat Noir himself, and just because Adrien can’t get the sting out, it doesn’t mean that Nino meant anything genuine by it.

Overly dramatic, Adrien reminds himself. Way too emotional.

The ache in his chest makes itself known again with a pang, and Adrien bites the inside of his cheek, glancing at Nino from the corners of his eyes.

Maybe he should tell Nino he cares about him, just to be sure. The words form in his mind, only to catch abruptly in his throat, thick and cloying. He thinks of how thoughtlessly he’s been able to tell Father he loves him. Thinks of how easy it’s always been to tell Ladybug how much she means to him.

He thinks of how neither of them seem to like meeting him in the eyes, lately.

He swallows the words, opting to smile brightly at Nino instead. It’s probably for the best. Nino’s always been better at picking up on people’s feelings, anyways, and he doesn’t need the kind of nagging assurance Adrien does. And it’s not like Adrien’s had much luck telling people he loves them, lately. Actually, if you look at his track record, he probably hasn’t…had any luck at all.

Adrien shakes his head, shoving the coldness creeping into his chest as far to the corner of his mind as he can, and sketches out enough blank spaces on the paper to spell fake mustaches are the new sexy.

If he can still make Nino laugh, it’s fine. He wouldn’t be laughing if he thought Adrien was annoying and obnoxious.

So see? It’s fine.

————

Adrien thinks about elastics, sometimes. The stretchy, rubber kind that Mme Thurston uses to pull back the longer locks of his hair while she’s doing his makeup, tying it up in a neat little explosion on top of his head that makes him look like a blond weed. She makes it look easy, twisting the little bands around and around, until they’re tight enough to hold his hair in place.

(Adrien’s hair is always easy, of course. Chat Noir’s hair, on the other hand, would probably give Mme Thurston nightmares. Mainly because Adrien has a fun little habit of shaking his head side to side until it’s an unrecognizable blond disaster, but that’s not particularly relevant.)

(Ladybug doesn’t even need to use elastics, opting for the soft strands of ribbon that hold her pigtails in perfect place.)

Adrien doesn’t normally use elastic bands either, but he likes the way they feel when he’s nervous, stretching and rubbery, then snapping perfectly back into place, like he’d never twisted them all out of proportion at all. The way he can hook his fingers in both ends and pull and pull and pull, but they never quite snap.

Felix has a fun trick with those, when they do photoshoots together.

(When they used to.)

He’ll press a little elastic against Adrien’s arm and pull the end back, just far enough, then let it snap back into place, stinging little red marks when it slaps against skin.

“Stop it,” Adrien scowls at him, but the expression wavers. Playful isn’t a word he uses along with Felix very often, but photoshoots are always more entertaining with him, at least. Or they were, until his mother disappears, and family photoshoots grind to an utter and complete halt forever—

—just for now, his father says, until something changes, until that something happens, until that metaphorical other foot that’s always hanging over Adrien’s head finally stomps its way back to earth and demolishes him in the process—

Felix replies by stretching another elastic between his fingers, shooting it toward him this time like a little slingshot. Adrien snags it out of the air, slotting it between his own fingers to fire back. It misses by a miserable meter and a half, because at the time this conversation takes place, he and Ladybug haven’t stayed up all night practicing their aim by trying to hit the left ear of Le Stryge on Notre-Dame.

Felix snorts, snatching the elastic from the floor, and makes a show of placing the band back against Adrien’s wrist. He pulls it back with a meaningful look, like an exasperated teacher. “It’s the bounce back that hurts,” he tells him. “Not the stretching part. When it snaps back to place—” He demonstrates by releasing the band, and Adrien flinches at the tiny sting. “—that’s the part that hurts.”

Four years later, having up close and personally experienced what a shattered ribcage stabbing into your lungs feels like, Adrien wants to correct Felix on tiny little elastic bands and what actually hurts, but the point, he guesses, is that he still remembers what it felt like.

He still thinks about those elastics sometimes, and how far they can be pulled until they snap back into place. How the little rubber band can make it so far, get so close to breaking, only to snap right back to where it started.

(Chat Noir doesn’t use elastics, either.)

————

For all that Adrien will stand by stuffing the worst of his emotions into a box and never thinking about them ever as a perfectly reasonable way to go about handling things —and whatever Plagg says doesn’t count, he’s a kwami who compares emotions to cheese — Adrien really does believe in communication as key.

Living it out is just. Another thing entirely.

But Adrien’s lived his life with a cold mansion’s worth of words left unsaid, so on principle, he really does believe that if something’s important, you should say it. Maybe nobody will really listen to you, or take you seriously, but at least you’ll have said it, and maybe at some point they’ll remember you said it, and it’ll mean something to them.

But maybe that’s what stopping him this time — he just can’t decide if it’s the idea of not being listened to that scares him, or the idea of actually being heard that’s worse.

It’s not like he wants to tell Ladybug he’s upset. It’s not like he even wants to be upset.

It doesn’t change the fact that he is, kind of, a little bit, (a lot) — but again, on principle, Adrien just — he doesn’t like being upset. It’s all uncomfortable and hot and it sits on his chest like a rock, weighing heavier and heavier until he learns to get over it.

It’s only worse when he tries to say something about it, because that never works. Maybe it’s a really sucky side effect of being homeschooled for most of his life, but every time Adrien opens his mouth to tell someone he’s upset with them and here’s why, it always backfires spectacularly. There’s a weird moment where something happens and the other person says their part, and suddenly Adrien’s complaints sound so stupid he wants to crawl in a hole and hide. There’s a dizzying one-eighty and Adrien’s suddenly the one in the wrong, and the other person’s upset at him, and now he’s got to apologize before he makes it worse than he already has.

And granted, most of those other people are just Father (or Father’s tinny voice through the phone), but he’s already enough to beat the lesson in.

Metaphorically, of course. Always — always metaphorically. Adrien’s never doubted otherwise.

“Maybe I’m just that bad at arguing,” he mutters, swiping darkly at his phone screen.

“I dunno,” Nino says, his voice consoling. “I mean, you were pretty good at it when you argued me into watching that one anime the other night.”

Adrien rolls his eyes. “I wasn’t upset with you about that.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Nino winks at him. “Unless your voice going all high-pitched about why Sailor Moon is the peak of animation is your default setting.”

“I wasn’t upset with you, though,” Adrien shakes his head, cutting him off. “I’m never upset with you.”

And he isn’t, really. Not even when Nino tells him, in an admittedly roundabout way, that he’s annoying and irritating and has loose and shady moral commitment to love and all its forms (or something like that).

He means, it stings, but only in the way Felix’s little rubber band snaps do. Not enough to justify picking an argument with Nino. Not to justify upsetting him, and possibly losing the one friend who’s stuck by him through the worst and actually shares stuff with him these days.

Adrien bites down on the inside of his cheek. If he’s not careful with the way his train of thought’s been steering itself lately, he’s going to accidentally show Ladybug how upset he is, and that’s—

Well, the fallout of that will hurt a lot worse than a little elastic band snap.

A lot worse than it already does, so. Back in your corner, resentful thoughts.

“Uh-huh.” There’s a quiet edge of suspicion in Nino’s voice, and Adrien stiffens, suddenly feeling horribly seen. The look Nino’s pinned on him doesn’t help at all, searching and curious and—

Concerned? Upset? Angry?

Adrien doesn’t know. He thinks it’s concern, but he’s also been thinking Ladybug’s been amused with him when she’s apparently just been annoyed, so who knows, really—

Shut up, Adrien tells his subconscious furiously. Shut up, shut up, shut up.

“It’s okay, if you are,” Nino says hesitantly, perhaps having picked up on whatever storm of emotions are slipping through Adrien’s schooled expression. “Upset, I mean. At your old man or me. It’s better to talk to people upfront, y’know? Otherwise…”

Nino’s expression twists in guilt, and Adrien’s lungs feel a little like they’re shriveling up and dying. Or maybe that’s just his chest on the whole, collapsing in on itself and taking Adrien’s ability to breath right with it.

He isn’t upset. He’s not. He doesn’t need to talk to anyone upfront about it, because there’s nothing to talk about in the first place. He’s not going to be overly dramatic about this too, he’s not. He’s just— it’s just—

Is it personal? Was it something he did, that made Ladybug trust everyone else but him? Did he slip up at some point and he just — he can’t remember? She’d told him, she’d promised they were fine after New York, but maybe she’d changed her mind without telling him and decided he needed to figure out on his own where he messed up if he was ever going to be worthy of her trust agai—

“I’ll be — I’ve gotta — restroom,” Adrien stammers, shooting up from his seat and all but sprinting for the doors.

“Wait, Adrien—!”

Nino’s panicked call is lost as Adrien flies down the hall, slipping down the stairs to the bathrooms on the first floor where he’s less likely to be found. He doesn’t feel like he’s going to cry, or anything so humiliating, but there’s an awful crushing sensation in his chest that makes him think he might do something he’ll regret. Or say something, any of the raging thoughts that bang off the insides of his skull with hurt. Something he won’t be able to take back.

Adrien wavers, planting both hands on the edge of the sink and staring at the white porcelain. His breathing sounds odd in the echo of the bathroom, wavering and off-beat. His vision swims traitorously, so he glares up at the mirror instead, only to falter as he catches sight of his reflection.

He looks…not great. Pale skin and bloodshot eyes in the way that’s likely to make Nathalie call a doctor on him. Which would be just fantastically ironic, considering she’s the one who needs a doctor, even if she’s never going to admit it and keep lying to him. Just like Ladybug, all careful smiles and words chosen with forced, casual caution, staring at him with eyes that are a million other places except actually seeing him.

Stop, he tells himself furiously, squeezing his eyes shut. Stop. Ladybug is not Father. Ladybug is Ladybug, his best friend and partner and he trusts her, he trusts her to have her reasons for not telling him. He has to trust her. He does trust her, he—

A sharp cracking sound tears Adrien from his thoughts, and he snaps his head up to find seven of his own disjointed faces staring back at him. He blinks, and suddenly the faces are clinking to the floor, broken fragments of the mirror scattering around his shoes.

His first thought, apart from a bizarre sense of not being entirely in his body, is a well-timed curse word.

Instead, what he gets out is, “Seven years bad luck,” muttered, almost absently, beneath his breath.

Typical. He wonders if moonlighting as a black cat-themed superhero that leans heavily into exaggerated acrobatics counts as crossing one. Like he needs more bad luck, right now.

What he actually needs, is…

Is…

He needs an escape.

From everything, it feels like, but for now, Adrien will settle for an escape from the school bathroom with all the mirrors that just broke.

…somehow.

————

For all that he throws fits of drama about it, the thing is, Adrien has escaped.

He’s made it out of the house, to school. He’s learned physics and grammar and math that Nathalie taught him six months ago, and he’s learned how to play hangman and cut class and tell your friend’s fortune with folded paper. He’s made friends, real friends, and he’s learned how to muffle loud giggles on the phone at night and what kinds of snack food Nino likes and doesn’t like. He’s learned how to pick up on a whole slew of emotions other than disappointment and apathy and mildly reserved approval, and he’s learned how to tell when other people are hurting.

(He’s learned how to tell how he’s hurting, but he’s unlearned that one faster.)

He’s learned the words it takes to voice that Father isn’t always right, learned how to curl his fingers tight enough into his palms that they don’t shake so much anymore, and he’s learned how to stretch like a rubber band against people’s anger, bending without breaking.

(He’s also learned about the perks of night vision and bone density and six different ways to trip someone up with the leather belt you’ve got tied around your waist like a tail, but he can’t credit school for those.)

And he thinks — he thinks he’s come so far, he’s learned so much, he’s so much stronger now—

Then his father’s eyes soften just enough to resemble the eyes of the man who held him close and told him how much he loved him, loves him, who stayed up all night reading Adrien’s favorite book to him and whose lap was the safest, warmest place in the world, and Adrien—

Hates himself. Hates himself as he snaps right back into place, right back into the Adrien who crumbles at Father’s slightest snap of tone. Hates himself so much it stings.  

Because it’s so much easier to do that, than it is to hate his father.

————

Adrien doesn’t particularly want to go to the photoshoot after school, especially not now that mirrors are literally breaking at the sight of his face, but — and here’s the fits of drama again — like everything else Father’s deigned to want, he doesn’t have much of a choice.

Technically, though, Adrien fantasizes as he fixes his eyes upward so the makeup artist can do her best to hide the darkening circles beneath them (“—really, dear, do you sleep at all these days—”), he could give himself a choice. He could make it fun, too, striking the perfect pose before transforming into Chat Noir right smack in front of the entire studio crew, and then Father would have something truly inspired to review that evening. A perfect snapshot of Adrien cataclysm-ing his merry way out of the studio and out into the gloriously free outside, that’s what.

Except then Adrien would have way too many choices to make, and even less all at once. The identity thing, being one. How to avoid Ladybug murdering him and dancing atop his grave, for another. Not that he thinks Ladybug is capable of murdering anyone, of course—

(—no, that’s solely reserved for him and his powers alone—)

—but he can imagine she’d be angry, were he to stage a reveal that way.

Were he to stage a reveal at all, Adrien thinks sourly, blinking until the stiff feeling of the makeup beneath his eyes fades. His makeup artist’s had to use the thick kind today, the extra-strength stuff that’s going to take forever to wash off. He stifles the urge to swipe at it, trying to relax into the feeling instead. Makeup is familiar, consistent. Sure, it’s technically another lie, but it’s one Adrien’s at least aware of. Makeup, he can see through. He can put it on and take it off himself, exercising some tiny semblance of control over what’s being hidden from the world.

Everything else, though…

“Carefree, my boy, carefree,” Vincent implores, his eyebrows furrowing as Adrien snaps himself back to the present. “You look as if you’re being drowned in mud, not soaring above the clouds.”

Adrien’s cheeks puff up as he blows his breath out, short and frustrated. At least Vincent is every bit as prone to fits of drama as he is, he reminds himself. It’s better to be stuck with someone passionate than someone as open as a brick wall, even if it is just Vincent antagonizing him with a camera again.

“Sorry,” he offers, giving him a weak grin. “I’ll get it this time, promise.”

Vincent doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he rambles about lighting and angles instead of scolding Adrien, which he can’t help but be grateful for. It allows Adrien a moment to let the smile drop, staring at the ground instead of the brightening lights around him.

He toes sullenly at the smooth linoleum of the floor, the solid black of Father’s logo glaring back at him from the side of his sneaker. Maybe he should just get more sleep. Maybe all the ugly tangled emotions in his chest are just residual buildup from being overtired, that’s all. Ladybug mentioned the stress getting to her a little while back, her own eyes bloodshot and exhausted. Adrien’s brilliant solution had been to take her to the movies, which had gone just as brilliantly as every other time he’s tried something like that, which is not very well at all. He’d been worried about her, though, even before she’d thrown him from a roof on accident. Ladybug carries so much on her shoulders, and strong as they are, Adrien knows what it’s like to be strung so tightly that even the slightest extra weight feels like it’ll snap you. He sees the same weight in his own eyes, now, even blinded by the studio lights.

His stomach twists. Ladybug’s eyes aren’t half as bloodshot lately. There’s an easiness to her that wasn’t there before, a lightening of tension, and yes, Adrien’s happy she’s feeling better, he’s nothing but glad that she isn’t so exhausted and worn, but…

But she’d trusted him before, even when she was strung her tightest. And now that there’s relief in her eyes, now that he’s taking a backseat and Ladybug adds more allies to their roster by the day, allies that she knows but he doesn't, allies that Alya and Nino probably know too, just like everything else, now that—

Was he the problem? Was it his fault, that Ladybug’s eyes turned shadowed and her movements wavered? He’s tried, he’s tried to be a rock for her, to be something constant and consistent as Adrien himself wants, but the horrible feeling that he’s not enough is now warring with the awful feeling that he’s the problem in the first place, because — why else? Why else would she shut him out like this? Why else would she decide he’s untrustworthy, after all this time, why—

The lights against his vision suddenly flare painfully bright, so bright Adrien’s forced to stagger back.

Vincent jolts away with a cry, waving his hand frantically as the camera sparks and sputters. Echoed cries of surprise ring throughout the studio as the overhead lights flicker wildly, turning the studio into a frightening mockery of a particularly bad nightclub.  

Adrien stumbles again, alarm coursing through his veins like a cold burst of water, and he darts for the intern nearby, who’s fallen over in her scramble to back away from the strobing lights. She’s just taken his hand when the lights go dark, plunging the studio into blackness. Before anyone can react beyond a frightened shriek, the lights snap back on, bright and steady as if nothing’s happened.

Adrien slowly pulls the intern to her feet, staring at the blazing lights as his vision swims, blinking against the sudden onslaught of dark spots in his eyes.

“Is it an akuma?” the intern asks, her eyes wild with fear. “Should we — should we evacuate?”

Adrenaline shoots through Adrien’s veins, his head whipping back and forth as he searches for a spark of purple, for the familiar edge of butterfly’s wings. But there’s nothing out of place, save the sputtering camera Vincent’s fretting over. There’s no sign of garish transformation, no following explosions, no loudly proclaimed demands for miraculous. In fact, if Adrien hadn’t seen it himself, it would appear as if nothing’s ever happened at all.

“It could’ve been the power lines,” someone suggests. “This place is pretty old, you know.”

“With Agreste’s standards?” someone else mutters. “I doubt it.”

“The camera is broken. Unsalvageable,” Vincent announces over the outbreak of murmurs. To his credit, he barely sounds shaken. “It must have been a power failure, or a blown fuse, I suppose. Nothing we can help.”

Vincent’s word is all the rest of the crew needs, and before Adrien can clamber up to inspect the lights himself, he’s being ushered from the studio, another intern furiously muttering about how she refuses to be fired for losing a model to “subpar building inspections” or something along those lines.

Adrien, who is already anticipating Father’s reaction himself, can’t blame her for bailing the moment he’s in the Gorilla’s hands.

————

Adrien is six years and three months old when his father finally finishes reading Le Petite Prince to him, and he comes the closest he ever has to throwing a fit at the ending.

He doesn’t actually throw a fit, of course, because then his father might not read to him ever again. That they finished this book together is already more precious as anything Adrien’s ever owned, and he won’t ruin that with his dramatics.

“Not all stories have the happy endings you want, Adrien,” his father tells him. Adrien feels his arms tighten around his shoulders, where he sits snugly in his father’s lap. “Sometimes you must make the most of what you have.”

Even at a young age, Adrien knows that he has quite a lot. The knowledge only grows as he does, just how much he has from his last name alone. His room alone could rival some people’s homes, Adrien has no right to want for anything.

And yet.

Sometimes, Adrien thinks back to the deep timbre of his father’s voice as he reads about yellow snakes and desert flowers and feels a stinging sense of loss so sharply it takes his breath away.

Other times, though, Adrien thinks about his father choosing to read a story about a boy who could only return home by letting a snake poison him, and wonders what that says about their relationship.

It’s not even Father’s icy tone that hurts anymore, really, Adrien thinks, as he picks at his dinner. Not that he’s likely to hear that tone tonight. Father’s locked himself firmly in his office again, and even Nathalie is nowhere to be seen. It’s quiet enough that Adrien’s gotten away with heating up the cheapest dinner they have in the house, and scouring enough cheese for Plagg that he won’t be complaining for a month.

Well, a day, maybe. Plagg’s a special kind of greedy.

But it’s painstakingly clear that Adrien will be dining alone, tonight. There hasn’t even been a single message fro Nathalie, informing him of all the lessons he’s been falling short in lately. Adrien twists his fork in his hand, setting it down with a weary sigh as dark spots flicker before his eyes again.

At least there won’t be anyone to lecture him, he tells himself, tapping absently on the table. The smooth wood looks immaculate beneath his fingers, the edge of his pinky still a bruised purple from the other evening, when Adrien misjudged the distance from the rooftop to his own window.  

Father won’t be able to lecture him about that, either, so it’s a good thing, really. It’s a good thing, that no one will be saying anything to him about the studio mishap earlier, or the darker than usual circles beneath his eyes, or he way he’s been showing up late more often than not to everything. Not about his slipping grades, or the way he keeps forgetting to hide his glare when photoshoots run longer than they’re supposed to.

It’s a good thing, Adrien tells himself, as his fingers clench around the table’s edge. It’s a good thing that he’s alone tonight. Being alone and unseen is much better than the alternative. It’s a good thing, that he can stew in whatever ugly emotions keep threatening to rise to the surface all by himself, where he won’t risk hurting anyone else with them. He can’t mess anything up if no one’s there to see it, so really, it’s a good thing, it’s—

It hits him, all-encompassing and overwhelming all at once.

Unwanted, thick and horrible and choking, the sensation of being traded out and traded off and stepped over, left behind and left out and laughed at in vicious whispers, closed doors and closed expressions and locking him out, like bars sliding down from the ceiling and cutting him off, trapped in place like an animal in the zoo, entertaining for a heartbeat than easily moved past for something better, unwanted and untrusted and alone, alone, alone again—

Adrien buckles and something howls in his ears, his hands burning as his fingers crunch through wood and his vision whites out.

For a heartbeat, Adrien isn’t Adrien — he’s the swelling of flames as fire catches light, he’s the pull of the undertow as it rips across the shore, he’s the blazing burst of lightning against metal, he’s on the edge of a cliff and stepping off—

And then he’s Adrien again, small and shaking and breathing in large, heaving gasps, trying desperately not to throw up all over the table.

“—drien, kid, Adrien, please!”

Adrien tears his hands from the table as if it’s shocked him. Black flecks drift from his fingers as they tremble, and Plagg splits into three as he flits in front of him, six pairs of green eyes staring at him in blazing concern.

“Plagg?” He barely recognizes his own voice, and his throat feels like sandpaper.

“Breathe,” Plagg orders as his image solidifies back to one, more serious than Adrien can remember him sounding. “You gotta breathe, Adrien.”

He does, in stuttering, shaky gasps, because Adrien will do anything Plagg asks him to. He’ll light himself on fire if he wanted, because Plagg is all he’s got.

Plagg is here, and that means more to Adrien than anything else could.

“Breathing,” he finally croaks out. “I’m — breathing, see? S’all good.”

It is most certainly not all good, because Adrien still feels like he got thrown off a building and into a blender, but Plagg almost looks frightened, looking from Adrien to the table to Adrien again, and—

Adrien freezes. The table. The stupidly, enormous, ridiculously expensive, lonely table his family’s supposed to use. The table he definitely, most certainly felt crunch under his hands.

Adrien follows Plagg’s gaze downwards, and suddenly feels like he’s going to throw up again.

“Oh,” he whispers.

Ice coats the inside of his chest, cold and creeping. The sidewalk. The mirrors, the studio camera, and now this.

“Adrien.” Plagg sounds so very serious.

He could explain most of it away. It’d be — it would be easy.

But this?

Adrien stares at the half-decayed table, ashes still flaking from the sides in a way that’s horribly distinctive of his cataclysm. A spiderwebbed path of smoldering destruction, all tracing back to where his fingers had been white-knuckled at the table’s edge.

Something snaps in the chandelier above him, cracking once and fizzling off into sparks.

It feels like something’s snapped in Adrien’s head. Maybe he’s lost it. Maybe he’s finally gone off the edge, and that — that can be his excuse, when Father asks him what, exactly, he did to the table. He can tell Father they’ve both lost it, they’ve both gone mad, and wouldn’t mom think this was all so funny—

A sound like a sob rips itself from his chest, before Adrien can strangle it into submission. He can’t lose it now. He can’t break down, he has to — he has to come up with a way to explain this, he has to find an escape, or Father’s going to be so angry, and so cold, and…and…

Adrien goes still. Like ice, numb and calming, he realizes he doesn’t have to worry about excuses. He doesn’t have to worry about any of that at all. No one’s coming. Not to check on him. The silence of the house is overpowering, the tiny patter of the vaporized table bits as they land on the floor almost thunderous.

“Adrien,” Plagg repeats, softer this time. “I need you to look at me.”

Slowly, he lifts his head, meeting Plagg’s bright green eyes with his own. Something in Plagg’s expression goes tight, a myriad of emotions flickering in his eyes before he schools them back into careful calm.

“Oh, kid.” Plagg’s voice is gentle. It still sounds like a lament.

Adrien tears his gaze away, swallowing. His fingers, still shaking, curl into unsteady fists. They feel odd, almost scalded. Adrien ignores it.

He can hide the table, he tells himself. He can fix the chandelier. No one will notice. He can hide this.

He’s Adrien Agreste.

He can deal with a couple of cracks in his facade.

[realcube]

CELEBRATING YOUR BIRTHDAY 

characters ♡ bokuto, tendō, matsukawa & suna

tw ♡ gn! reader, timeskip! bokuto (all sfw tho), swearing, reader wears makeup (matsukawa), swearing, mentions of death & food 

cred ♡ thanks to anon for this request <3

KŌTARŌ BOKUTO

♡ he was literally counting down the days to your birthday, he even took the day off practise to celebrate it with you so imagine his surprise when the special day finally rolls around and he wakes up to an empty bed

♡ at first, he thought that perhaps you were just around the house somewhere but nope, the place was completely empty and even worse, all signs pointed to his theory that you had gone to work/school on your birthday 

♡ outraged. he was absolutely outraged. 

♡ firstly, he tried calling you but you wouldn’t pick up, even after his many attempts so his next resort to call your place of work/school reception 

♡ obviously he managed to get a hold of you then-

♡ he was originally gonna yell about how you lied to him about taking the day off on your birthday but there was no way he could be angry at you — almost ever — so instead, he made the quick decision of telling you to have a nice day before hanging up 

♡ you were kinda pissed that he wasted your time like that but how could you stay mad at him? he’s fkn adorable! he blew you audible kisses over the phone for good luck!

♡ you laboured your way through the day, putting in great effort yet through it all, the only thing on your mind was how much you wanted to just pass out on the couch with bokuto as soon as you got home. you weren’t even sure if you had the energy to change into your pjyamas.

♡ however, when you finally did arrive home, there was no need to put yourself through the onerous task of changing clothes as the first thing you were greeted by when you stepped foot in your own home was a chorus of cheers of ‘surprise!’ followed by people spilling out into the foyer from the kitchen and living room 

♡ then there was bokuto, the loudest of them all leading the crowd, blowing into the party horn while dashing up to, throwing his arms around your shoulders to pull you into a tight hug, ‘happy birthday, sweetie!’

♡ a light gasp escaped your lips at the sudden hoots, and the unfamiliar — and frankly uncomfortable — sight of many friends swarm towards you had you on edge but when you felt bokuto wrap you in his warm embrace, you knew you were home

♡ he held you close until you were forced apart by many guests tearing you away to personally wish you a happy birthday

♡ now that the initial shock had died down, you noticed that there wasn’t as many people present as you thought, it was a humble gathering of all your closest friends 

♡ there was a massive pile of bright-colored gifts lying on the stairs, and it was hard not to immediately acknowledge them as the sheer mass and number of the presents scattered across the steps prevented anyone from being able to go upstairs

♡ the following day, you were made aware of the fact 90% of those presents were addressed from ‘your best ace husband ;)’ which was pretty straight-forward considering you only have one husband; kiyoomi sakusa. 

♡ jokes, you married bokuto but sakusa was also at the party. he originally just wanted to drop off his gift then leave but bokuto persuaded him to stay, though he seemed to be regretting it now as almost everyone at the party now shared an unspoken goal to slam sakusa’s face into one of the cupcakes that decorated the circumference of your cake

♡ speaking of the cake, bokuto remembered what type of cake was your favorite from the wedding planning and he was so chuffed with himself. in fact, he was so confident in his cake picking ability that he ordered a massive 3-tier monster of a dessert 

♡ neither of you would be able to finish it before it goes bad so you ended up cutting it up into pieces  and sending each guest away with a little goody-bag with a slice of cake inside lmao 

♡ once you had finished your goodbyes and everyone had filed out of your home, you flopped onto the couch and let out a deep sigh of relief. well, it was only a sigh for a few moment as it became a wheeze when bokuto laid down on top of you 

♡ ‘happy birthday, (y/n). i’m sorry if i tired you out.’ he hummed, fiddling with your fingers as his lips curled into a shaky smile

♡ ‘i’m a bit sleepy but i had an amazing time. thank you so much, kō.’

♡ bokuto smiled, his heavy lid falling shut as he finally rested his neck, being able to fall asleep comfortably now that you’ve told him that you had fun

SATORI TENDŌ

♡ unlike bokuto, he’ll actually mention your birthday a few weeks prior to the celebration so he can plan the perfect date :3

♡ ‘so do you wanna go to the aquarium or the theme park? because i know we’ve went to the park before but they remodelled it apparently. plus, maybe the aquarium is a bit underwhelming for such a special day, but it’s up to yo--’

♡ ‘we won’t really get to spend much time in either. if you consider the time school finishes, the train ride and the time the aquarium and park closes so maybe we could just chill at my house instead.’

♡ tendō deadpanned for a moment, the most unamused look taking over his features until he suddenly burst out laughing, cackling as if you just told the joke of the century, ‘seriously, (y/n)? you’re gonna go to school on your birthday.’

♡ ‘yes, of course.’ you replied in all seriousness, resulting in tendō awkwardly beginning to stifle his chuckles.

♡ he frowned, slumping back into the seat beside you, ‘c’mon, it’s your birthday, though! you deserve the day off.’

♡ you shook your head, kindly declining his suggestion, ‘i have a test on that day.’

♡ ‘all the more reason to ditch!’

♡ now it was your turn to deadpan

♡ tendō tossed his head back while letting out a sigh  of defeat, draping his arm around your shoulder to lovingly pull you to his chest, ‘alright, then. whatever you want, dear.’

♡ you smiled, glad that you didn’t need to disagree with him any longer — and you were even happier on the day. even though you insisted that he keeps things small on your birthday, he still managed to find a way to make things extra asf by getting you a massive plush that was about half the size of your stature and a hamper of homemade chocolates ><

ISSEI MATSUKAWA 

♡ honestly, he’s never been the best at giving gifts but he tries extra hard for you 

♡ like if you off-handedly say that you are cold during class, he’ll buy you a bunch of new jackets, jumpers and gloves

♡ or if you say you need more mascara, he’ll buy you exact same one you usually wear 

♡ he’s observant enough to notice and remember the exact shade and brands of all your cosmetic products but he’s not observant enough to pick up on the subtle hints you drop as to what you want for your birthday 

♡ you can never guess what he’s gonna get you and that adds to your anticipation for the day 

♡ if your birthday is on a school day, he’ll bring in a batch of homemade cupcakes (which hanamaki helped him with) and stick a candle in one of them for you to blow out 

♡ he offers you one but they are all pretty stale- just smile and nod while your teeth feel like they are being shattered trying to bite down on the cupcake 

♡ it might set off the fire alarm but oh well, just count that as another present

♡ oikawa will probably get you something like a bouquet and try flirt with you so at that point, matsukawa and hanamaki begin using the cupcakes as weapons 

♡ they are a two for one deal so you’re going to be spending the day with both of them tailing you like lost puppies

platonic RINTARŌ SUNA

♡ (requester specified) your birthday is on the same day as his so ofc he’s going to be a little salty abt it 

♡ you both created a game to see who receives the most birthday wishes and whoever won gets ¥1500 from the loser’s birthday money

♡ for the past few years, he’s usually been the winner by just a few but this year, you made it a point to befriend all him teammates in order to ensure victory 

♡ having to pretend to be friendly with atsumu — who wasn’t very good at hiding his massive crush —was definitely a challenge but you powered through 

♡ in fact, you may have played the role too well as both the miya twins gave you a gift 

♡ osamu gave both you and suna a plastic bag filled with some food he made and water bottles

♡ as for atsumu, his gift to you was a massive hamper filled with an assortment of many different luxury confectionary which didn’t look cheap at all but it didn’t feel appropriate to question the price so you simply took it from him with a bright smile

♡ of course, suna was excited (and very hungry) as he expected the same gift but he was more than disappointed when all he received was a bag of chips and a slap on the back

♡ he goes out of his way to tell every teacher it’s your birthday in hopes that they’ll make the class sing happy birthday to you 

♡ but it pisses him off to no end when you add that it’s his birthday too so he ends up getting roped into your misery 

♡ also your thumbs are going to be sore at night swiping through all the various candid pics that suna took of you throughout the day (in less than flattering poses) which he uplaoded to almost all of his social media stories with stupid ass captions 

♡ but dw bc he’ll eventually post a nice photo of you with a sweet message

♡ ‘happy birthday to @(y/n) . i would die for you, bitch (even though you annoy the hell out of me every single day 🤠).’