#fun fact: i kept passing out whilst drawing this only to find more that had been inked that i couldn't remember doing

[dueling-jesters]

Happy Bi Visibility month, and (somewhat late) day!

[inadaydream99]

Their S/O having small hands - with The Boyz

Requested by anon

A/N - thank you for requesting this reaction, it was really interesting to write! I kept it all fluffy and light. I hope you enjoy! 💕

Sangyeon

Will hold their hand all the time

And when he can feel that their hand is cold, he will put it in his coat pocket, interlaced with his

It honestly makes him smile so much

Because he’s fascinated by how something can be so small

But in reality their hand is probably average sized and he’s just got big hands

I think Sangyeon would also be the type to kiss his s/o’s hand a lot

Especially if they are laying in bed, just about to fall asleep

It’s just become a habit of his to leave a goodnight kiss on the back of their hand as he interlaces their fingers

Jacob

Plays with their fingers absentmindedly

It usually happens when they are cuddled together

Jacob is zoned out in his own world and by instinct his hand takes theirs and threads their fingers together

He repeatedly tangles and untangles them

Only zoning back in when his s/o chuckles in amusement

After that he’ll pay attention to the action, a smirk on his face as he admires how perfectly their hands fit together

Younghoon

Compares hand sizes

Like every day...

Seriously he never gets bored of placing his s/o’s palm against his

Randomly asks his s/o to hold different things because he finds it so amusing

And it’ll be the most ridiculous items, like he’ll ask them to pass him his shoe???

Even with more ‘normal’ things like holding a mug or the tv remote, he finds it so amusing how tiny their hands look

Hyunjae

Uses it against them to win in petty debates by suggesting arm wrestling or thumb wars

Of course he always wins because his hand is so much bigger than theirs (and he’s stronger)

There was one time where his s/o pretended to throw fists at him and he ended up crying with laughter because their fists were so tiny

Will never let them live it down

And they probably spend most of the time rolling their eyes at Hyunjae

Because he brings it up constantly

In fact, he’s so loud about his obsession with his s/o’s tiny hands that it becomes a joke amongst the rest of the group too

Juyeon

For some reason it makes him think about what it will be like to hold his future child’s hand

Makes him quite sentimental

And in the most random times too

Because his s/o will literally be sitting talking away to him about something random that had happened to them that day

And he’ll just be staring that their hands

Then suddenly he’ll reach out and take one of them in his and just hold it

Without saying a word

But with an infatuated smile on his lips

Also, I can image Juyeon literally melting on the inside when his s/o wears his hoodie and they scrunch up the long sleeves so their tiny hands can reach out the end

Kevin

Uses it when sassing his s/o

Just like “what are you gonna do about it, small hands?”

Though, lets be real, he finds it so cute

He doesn’t really bring it up that often though

Only when he can use the it against them

Secretly loves it when they draw little patterns along his arm whilst cuddling together

And he watches the intricate little swirls they meander along his skin, making his heart skip a beat every time

Kevin just finds it a very wholesome moment shared between them

Chanhee

Likes how dainty they are

I can imagine him liking to play with his s/o’s fingers a lot, purely because he thinks they are so pretty

Will definitely buy them a lot of rings and jewellery to wear

Randomly just picks up his s/o’s hand and holds it in the air, staring at it in intrigue before taking it properly in his own

Like to paint his s/o’s nails in pretty colours too

Changmin

Will make fun and coo over them excessively

His first form of affection is by grabbing their hands, either to hold them or to pull them in close

It makes him gush just thinking about how perfectly their hands fit together

Loves it when they caress his cheek, either just in simple affection or when kissing, and will place his hand on top of theirs to stop it from moving away

Will back hug his s/o all the time, and without fail will pull their hands behind their back so he can interlace them with his

Or will envelop them in a back hug but hold their hands on their front with his chin resting on their shoulder so he can peer over and admire

Haknyeon

Will make up silly songs about his s/o’s small hands

Because he literally sings everything

Likes to pretend to bite their fingers... because its incredibly endearing how funny his s/o finds it

And during calmer moments, he’ll take their hand and press a feather light kiss to each finger tip, with the most adorable beam on his face

Overall, he just sees his s/o having small hands as another way of them being completely adorable in his eyes

Sunwoo

Mostly just surprised by how small his s/o is in comparison to him

Almost like he has this epiphany because the thought hadn’t occurred to him before

He gets really flustered by how cute he finds them

But will never admit the reason why it never fails to make him blush, mostly because he finds it funny how much they pester him to find out

Also, kinda makes him feel the need to protect/ take care of them

And by that I mean in ways like making sure their hands are warm when it’s cold

Eric

Thinks it’s cute but isn’t that interested

...Or so he wants his s/o to think

Because obviously Eric will make a fuss over how small their hands are from time to time

But he doesn’t want them to know how much it really affects him

Literally makes him smile so much when they rest their hands on his chest

And loves nothing more than when they put their hands around his neck when they kiss and he can feeling them play with the hair on the back of his head

[sparkypantaloons]

The Ice

Five things Bruce taught Jason and one thing Jason taught Bruce. (1/6)

Bruce isn’t sleeping when his bedroom door creaks open. He’s not even pretending, when the small, whimpering child climbs into the bed beside him. Small fingers clutching at his nightclothes, a tuft of curly hair tucked under his chin.

He wraps his arms around the small shaking figure, presses a soft kiss into the hair. “Deep breaths, Jason.” He says softly.

The boy in his arms takes a shuddering breath, clutches tighter to Bruce’s pyjamas. His tears are starting to soak through.

“Sorry.” Jason says. The words are barely a whisper, Bruce feels them in his chest, more than he hears them.

“Hey.” He says, in gentle admonishment. “What have I told you about apologising. There’s nothing to apologise for.”

Jason sniffles again, presses himself further into Bruce’s embrace.

“Try and get some sleep.” Bruce says, and with one arm he tucks the covers around them both.

It’s not the first time Jason’s had a nightmare. It’s not even the first time this week. It’s also not the first time Bruce’s own dreams have kept him from rest. If he’s honest, since the incident last week, he sleeps a lot better with Jason here too.

Jason’s been with him eight months, two weeks and five days. And it’s going well. Really well, in fact.

Jason is everything Bruce was not as a child. He’s loud and full of life, with a mischievous gleam in his eye and a heart of gold in his chest. He’s eager to learn, quick-witted and sharp, already catching up with the smartest in his class, despite the school he’s missed.

He’s funny. God is he funny. He makes Bruce laugh in a way he hasn’t done since Dick was small. With silly impressions, or out-of-the-blue jokes that are way beyond borderline for a twelve year old.

He shows affection with reckless abandon, throwing his arms around Bruce or Alfred’s necks or waists, whatever he can reach. Pressing kisses into cheeks, squeezing their hands in his, or dazzling them with a brilliant smile. Like he's been so full of love his whole life and just needed someone to give it to.

And he trusts them. Alfred and Bruce. Trusts that he is secure with them, loved by them, where he should be, with them. With each passing day, more of his personality shines through, as he starts to build his home, his life, there with them in the Manor. Warm, and full, and safe at last.

Bruce had hoped… when he took the kid in, he had hoped that he could give Jason what he needed. That he could make up, in some small way, for all the ways Jason had already been failed. By his parents, by the police, by social workers, by Gotham. Hoped he could give Jason something, that would make up for the years before. He just never counted on how much Jason would give him. Because Bruce adores him, and as the quiet tears turn to gentle snores in his arms, he already dreads letting go come morning.

It's late autumn, the leaves have already fallen from the trees. The first frost of the season had descended on the Manor and it had been a harsh one, killing the last of the late summer blooms that were still hanging on.It had only been a week ago, that first frost, but it's only with Jason's warm body held close that Bruce can shake the chill, even now.

It had been that next morning, the Manor grounds glittering silver, when Jason and Bruce had been working their vegetable patch. Now nearly empty, after they’d picked their carrots and pumpkins and squash. Bruce’s pumpkin had been biggest, but Jason’s carrots had tasted the best.

Ace was out too, running up and down the garden, chasing squirrels, barking good naturedly up trees. There was only so much interest an eleven year old could show in weeding an all but empty vegetable garden. Before long Bruce had shooed Jason off to play with the dog, whilst he knelt in the soil, picking out frozen slugs and other undesirables.

He could hear Jason laughing with the dog. Wrestling with the old Alsatian every time he refused to drop the manky, old tennis ball they were playing fetch with. Jason had a strong arm, but Ace, despite his age, had more energy than even an eleven year old, and before long Jason’s throws became more haphazard.Bruce hadn’t seen what had happened, had only heard it, half listening in the way all parents do. Jason had thrown, but Ace seemingly hadn’t got the ball. “C’mon Acey.” Jason had cooed, “Get the ball.” Before there was a good natured humph, the dog seemingly refuse to do as asked.

The next Bruce had known, Ace was baying manically and Bruce was sprinting from the vegetable patch, because those were warning barks. Ace was a little down the garden, over by the swimming pool, Jason nowhere to be seen.

No. The single word repeated itself in Bruce’s mind as he ran across the frozen grass. No, no, no, no, no.The world went silent as he reached the pool. Panic drowning out Ace’s barks. The thin layer of ice across the surface was cracked open, Jason below the water, still and unmoving.

Bruce yelled. He doesn’t know what. Jason’s name. Maybe Alfred’s. Maybe just an angry, desperate noise, wrenched out of his throat at the thought that someone else he loved was being taken from him.

He careened into the pool. Half wading, half swimming, arms desperately reaching for Jason. He didn’t feel the cold. Didn’t feel the wet. Could only feel the all consuming panic as his fingers finally, finally closed around Jason’s arm, dragged him to the surface.

“Hold on, Jay-lad. Hold on.” He said loudly, and kept saying as he pushed through the icy water to the pool edge, a thousand terrible scenarios running through his mind.

By some miracle, none of them came to pass. Jason had started coughing up water before Bruce was out of the pool, tears joining the water running down his face.

It had been later, sat by the fire in the drawing room, wrapped in blankets and Bruce’s arms, Jason had quietly wept. Whispering over and over “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” into Bruce’s chest.

“You never go out onto the ice, Jason.” Bruce had said. “Never. No matter what.”

But of course Jason wouldn’t know. What pools of water were there in Crime Alley, what frozen lakes or rich idiot swimming pools were there to learn from? Jason had never even left Gotham, had never crossed the river until he came to the Manor. Had never even been to the river, could never know the dangers beneath a frozen surface... Why hadn’t Bruce explained it to him the second they got outside? Why hadn't he had the damn pool cover fixed at least? Why hadn’t he been watching Jason more closely? He should have been playing with the kid, with his— with his son, not picking frozen slugs out of the ground whilst his darling boy drowned.

Except that was the other thing. Because it wasn’t just about not going out on to the ice, never, ever, no matter what. It was that Jason couldn’t swim either. He hadn’t said as much, always casually finding a reason to avoid the water over the summer months. But Bruce wasn’t called the world’s greatest detect for fun. He should be called the world’s biggest idiot. Having an open pool of water around an eleven year old who couldn’t swim. Having not even booked swimming lessons for the eleven year old who couldn’t swim.

Who did he even think he was? Thinking he could be a father to this child. Give him what he needed. He’d already failed fatherhood with Dick, ruined what had been the most important relationship in his life, with his own stupid pig-headedness. And here he was, arrogant enough to risk doing the same again. Stupid enough to—

“B?” Jason stirs in his arms, bringing Bruce back to the present. Interrupting the sixth consecutive night of him reliving the kid’s almost death. Putting an end to the self-loathing diatribe he now has down to a tee.

“Mm?” He can feel Jason’s eyelashes flutter against his neck.

“Thank you.” Jason says softly. “For saving me.”

Bruce has lost count of how many times Jason has broken his heart, but he adds another to the list. “You don’t have to thank me, Jason. I will always save you. Always.”

You can read the rest of this fic here https://archiveofourown.org/works/34213801/chapters/85127050

[rogue-durin-16]

AN UNUSUAL YEAR (Part IV/V)

Summary: After having little to no interest on girls for five years, Fred suddenly feels the need to nag the shit out of a certain witch, completely oblivious to the reason behind it.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Genre: fluff (+ enemies to lovers)

Taglist:

An unusual year: @natural-hearts @manuosorioh @lumos-solemn @westyywifee @whiskeyn-rain @warlock--protection @gossip-girl-ecr @fandomscombine @birdy944 @28cnn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: none

A/N: BOI IS THIS LOOONG. I knew this part would get a bit out of hand since I wanted to write all of this in the same chapter but still damn. Anyway, enjoy <3

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part V

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Here's a variety of Yule Ball outfits for y'all 👀:

Outfit 1 outfit 2 outfit 3 outfit 4 outfit 5

"You sure you don't wanna come to the ball?" I asked Mathilda, climbing down the dormitories' stairs.

"No, I'd rather stay..." Her mouth opened in agape when she saw me. "You look... Wow."

"Why, thank you." I replied, walking towards my best friend with a smile. "I'll probably be here before 10:00 pm." I assured her, squeezing her shoulders. "And we can gossip a bit."

"Already looking forward to it." Mathilda patted my hand with a chuckle. "Have fun, will you?"

I nodded and waved her goodbye before leaving the common room.

"Bloody hell, Y/l/n!" George, who as promised, had been waiting for me at the entrance of the dungeons, shamelessly though harmlessly, checked me out. "You clean up nice, huh?"

"Of course I do." I walked to meet him at his spot. "You don't look so bad yourself, Weasley." With his chin up and a proud smile, he offered me his arm, which I gladly took, and we headed off to the Great Hall.

A fairly big crowd had formed at the doors, mostly conformed by people who were waiting for their partner slash group, and some not-so-subtle gossips.

While I intended to go straight into the Hall, George tugged me away from the shortest path, claiming that he wanted to 'have an overall view'.

I reckoned he had something else in mind when we passed by Fred and Angelina, both immersed in their conversation until my friend caught a glimpse of us.

"Damn Y/n!" I held back George, who was playing dumb for some reason, and made my way to the couple. "You look SO good, doesn't she, Fred?" She nudged her partner, giving him a knowing grin.

"I guess you look nice." His nonchalant reply was accompanied with a shrug.

"She looks breathtaking, actually." George's correction left me staring at him speechless. "Just like Angelina."

Oh well. "Yeah" I agreed, clinging onto my partner's forearm, finally getting a vague idea of what was going on —not quite there yet, though. "Angelina, love, you look astonishing, right George?"

"Right." I could see my friend's cheeks reddening ever so slightly whilst making eye contact with George.

"Shall we go in?" I suggested, already heading to the gates.

FRED'S P.O.V

'Breathtaking' was the exact word I was thinking about when Angelina asked me about Y/n, and George knew it.

The girls probably didn't catch how my jaw dropped when I saw her, but my brother did.

He knew it.

"Go with her, yeah?" I requested to Angelina, gesturing at Y/n and at the Great Hall simultaneously. "George, can I have a word with you?"

He nodded and whispered "Go on, ladies." before walking to me. "What is it, Freddie?"

"What's your game?"

"I think I don't follow." The fact that he had the nerve to speak that blantant lie angered me more than I would ever admit.

"Why is she your date?"

"Why is she not your date?" He retorted, triggering a gasp from me, followed by a scoff. "You're not only completely oblivious, you're also a coward."

"Beg your pardon?" Was the only thing I could bring myself to say; I blamed the shock caused by my brother's nonsense.

"AND you stole my date." Oh, so this was about Angelina. "Now if you excuse me," he patted my back a couple times. "I'll go dance all night with MY absolutely breathtaking date."

"Have fun with Slytherin girl, Georgie." I replied, sprinting to reach him. "I'll go dance with our beautiful Angelina."

"Tosser." I could hear him say as I jogged into the Hall to reach the girls.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

READER'S P. O. V.

George probably wasn't the best dancer, but he clearly knew some moves, and made me want to stay on the dancefloor for a good couple of hours, having a great time.

That's one of the reasons why I decided to help him out.

"Oi!" He leaned on and I stood on my tiptoes, holding onto his forearms so I could speak directly into his ear. "Wanna dance with Angelina?"

"Maybe" He slightly pulled away and both our gazes spotted the girl, dancing madly with Fred. "Yeah! Yeah I do!" He shouted so I could hear him over the music, now that we were apart.

"Alright, come!" I tugged his hand and together we narrowed the already short distance between them and us.

The timing was perfect, almost as if it was meant to be like that; the moment we reached them a slow song started to play.

"Angelina, may I steal your date for a dance?" I requested, not waiting for Angelina's nod before letting go of George and tugging Fred's hand. "You can have mine." I spared my friend a teasing smile and a wink while I pulled her date away from George and her.

"Stealing me away, huh?" Once we were far enough, I spun around and held up one of his hands, his left one falling on my waist and my right one on his shoulder. "Eager to be near me again, Y/l/n?"

"So I'm not 'Slytherin girl' anymore?" I raised my eyebrows at him with a smirk on my face as we swayed.

"You heard that?" All from sudden he turned somehow self-conscious.

"This may come as a shock to you," I peeked over his shoulder to check on George and Angelina. "but you two are quite loud."

"I didn't mean it." His word had way more regret than necessary for something as stupid as what he was sort of apologizing for.

"I know." My eyes returned to his just in time for him to made me twirl and pulling me back to him, this time a bit closer than we were before. "Asking Angelina out was a shitty move." I pointed out.

"You won't believe me," he began, "But I completely forgot." I snorted. "I swear!" His eyes widened and both our mouths twisted into an amused smile. "She was near me when Ron asked me who I'd be taking, and I didn't think twice."

A soft, genuine laugh escaped my lips; one which made the boy in front of me smile.

"Is he pissed?"

"Earlier? Very. Now?" I gestured behind Fred, urging him to look at his twin brother, now kissing Angelina. "I don't think so, no."

This time it was his laugh that made a smile tug the corners of my mouth.

"You do look breathtaking." He spoke quietly, almost in a whisper. "Dunno why I didn't tell you earlier."

"Because you're a twit." He chuckled, shaking his head with his eyes fixed on our feet. "You look very handsome, though."

"I am very handsome." He corrected me, looking at me again, now with that damn smug face.

Out of every possible comeback, I chose the one that he expected the least. "Yes, you are." His cheeks turned mildly red and his grin fluttered; I counted it as a win.

"You're beautiful." He returned the compliment, after a moment of silence, to which I responded with a confident 'I know'. "So cocky."

"That makes the two of us." I pointed out.

Silence fell among us again. Comfortable silence, though, one that I could get used to.

Another twirl, another pull to stand even closer.

A small lean was enough for my head to rest against his chest. I blamed tiredness for the need to do that, but I didn't find anything to blame for the way his heart was pounding against his chest, nor for that strange feeling in my stomach.

As soon as he took a deep breath, we both eased into each other's arms, giving up the tension that our bodies had held.

We stayed like that for a while, until I looked around and realized most people had left, George and Angelina included; the dancefloor was now almost empty.

"I don't know what time is it," I spoke, letting my fingertips trace random patterns over his shoulder, dancing down to his chest.

"Me neither" he spoke, making me sway.

"I reckon this is the longest we've been together without jumping down each other's throats." I observed. "And it's probably the longest—"

My words died when, without any kind of warning, his lips landed on mines.

His right hand unconsciously gripped mine for an instant with such force, almost as if it was holding onto it for dear life.

Before I could even think about kissing him back, he retreated back to his previous position, offering me a smile I couldn't decipher accompanied by a wink that made him look relaxed an confident.

All façade, I thought to my self, as he said nothing —no teasing, no cracking jokes; he just kept slowdancing, his hands now more loose, seeming like he was prepared for me to run away; his gaze was also casted down and his cheeks flushing.

I would have teased him if it wasn't for the way I felt my own face burning.

I did let go of his hold, and he subtly stepped back, lowering his arms.

Just like me, he didn't have time to react when I pulled him down, cupping his cheeks for a proper kiss, which he returned instantly.

I felt both his hands on my hips as he leaned on, drawing me against him as close as he possibly could, while my hands left his cheeks to circle his neck.

All of a sudden I remembered that I needed to breath; I broke away, leading my hands to his shoulders, where I could feel how heavy his breathing was.

"What's just happened?" I mumbled, my eyes fluttering open to look into his.

"Dunno." He confessed. "Did you like it?"

"Very much." I replied instinctively, not bothering on thinking it through.

"Wicked." He muttered against my lips before going in for the third kiss, this one more heated.

With a hand on his chest i slightly pushed him away, scanning the place around us before asking, "Wanna go for a walk around the castle?"

"Please." His response was so immediate that we both had to chuckle at it.

"Wicked." I mocked, earning a playful push from him. I my fingers interlaced with his and I led the way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

FRED'S P. O. V.

"Shhh!" I playfully shushed Y/n's giggles, loosely hugging her from behind with my lips pecking her shoulder as we went downstairs in the direction of her House. "You don't want us to get caught, do you?" I let go of her waist just when we found ourselves halfway through the corridor.

"Merlin's beard—" Y/n, who had turned to face me, widened her eyes at the sight of me under the dim lights of the dungeons. "You're a mess." She whispered between quiet laughs, raising her hands up to my face to try and remove some of the lipstick stains she had left all over me.

"Don't you dare laugh, woman." I feigned pain, only making her giggle more. "You made a mess out of me."

She held my chin and moved my face from side to side, checking if she had made it any better. "What am I supposed to do with your neck?" She huffed.

"Place a couple more kisses there?" I suggested with a smirk, fixing her hair as best as I could. "Or a bite, you choose."

"I'm serious." Her thumb gently rubbed the side of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

"Let them there for people to see." I was joking. My tone was playful. I didn't really mean it.

It was just a joke, right?

Her hands slid down my chest before leaving my body. "I'd rather not to." She replied absent-minded, making me realize that maybe I wasn't joking; maybe I wanted people to see— to know.

She didn't, though.

"Hey, everything's alright?" She questioned, concern making its way to her face when her eyes found mines.

"Of course." I replied— no, I lied. I lied to her and to myself. "Just tired."

"No wonder why." She laughed at her own innuendo, but the only thing she got out of me was an unenthusiastic half smile. "I'm gonna head back now." She added, probably sensing something wasn't right. "Get some sleep."

"I'll go have a shower." I informed her, stepping back in the stairs' direction without breaking eye contact.

"See you in a couple of hours." She responded, mirroring my moves, but towards her common room.

I nodded briefly before heading up to my own House, craving a cold shower to shake her voice off my mind and detach her touch and kisses from my skin.

[lucywritesreid]

Our own little island

Thank you for all the feedback from my last fic :3 I really don’t have any explanation for this other than....yeah...Spencer during lockdown haha.

Summary: Spencer and Y/N Have been living in their own private bubble during lockdown. YN has discovered a game and initially Spencer shows no interest...

There wasn’t much to say about the last few months other than they had been… weird. Weird on a global scale. You almost couldn’t believe how quickly everything went from normal to complete lockdown and watching the news every night had set you into complete panic mode. Both you and your highly germ-phobic boyfriend were more than happy to comply with the necessary restrictions. Spencer’s rational and calm mindset kept you both prepared and he did everything possible to reduce your anxiety. You would be forever grateful to have him by your side at such a horrible time.

For you the hardest adjustment was not seeing your work friends every day. It was odd to not spend every waking moment surrounded by all the people you loved the most. You didn’t realise just how much you would miss them despite seeing them all the time anyway. Friday night became the highlight. Your team, set up by Garcia, started a weekly quiz whereby everyone joined a Zoom call and one member was chosen to deliver a set of questions. Granted, it took Rossi a few failed attempts to be both seen and heard on camera, but you had all got it working in the end. Garcia’s quiz was based on cute, fluffy cartoon characters, Rossi delivered a mastermind style quiz all about the ratpack, Hotch surprised everyone with an in depth quiz about the employees of the FBI (where you realised he knew way more about personal lives of his colleagues) and you did pop culture through the ages. You had warned Spencer that ‘the history of the atom’ wasn’t in keeping with the Friday night spirit, and despite being met by many groans, he ended up presenting a fun and engaging quiz where losers had to take a shot for every question wrong. No surprise that he was the only one still standing by the end.

 The truth was that despite all the chaos and uncertainty, you realised that you were lucky to have so much time spent with the man you loved. Sure, you worked together, but that was as professional as you both could manage. Stolen kisses at the back of the jet and shoulder squeezes were as close as you could get whilst working. But at home, you both had free reign of each other. You were both night owls, sleeping through most of the sunshine. You spent your evenings playing chess, re-watching old horror movies and having a lot of sex. You were sure that you were keeping your local Thai restaurant in business, living mainly off that and tubs of ice cream. It was almost therapeutic spending your time lounging around in your comfortable clothes. Hours would pass while you both sat reading in silence (you, a few chapters, Spencer, a novel or three…), his arm slowly brushing the inside of your leg as you read. On the more anxious nights, Spencer would do absolutely anything to calm you down, making sure you were okay. He’d perform Shakespeare, teach you how to cheat cards, read to you in different languages and even let you braid the ends of his hair.

 You were very sure you were going to marry Spencer Reid.

 There was one of your hobbies that he didn’t quite understand. In the first few weeks at home, you had invested in a Nintendo Switch, mainly from the push of Garcia but you had been eyeing it up since it first came out. You spent many nights on animal crossing visiting Garcia and her magic candy land island. It was one way to experience the outside world without actually being there. There was something wholly therapeutic about going fishing, planting flowers and giving gifts to your wonderful animal villagers.

 Spencer, of course, didn’t really understand the appeal. Despite having the most wonderful brain you’d ever met, he seemed to have a block when it came to technology. He never discouraged you playing, but always looked over your shoulder with a furrowed brow whenever he saw you.

 “See that, y/n, there’s no way all those fossils would be in such close proximity to one another in such a small area.” He commented on more than one occasion. “What use is archaeology when they are just there on the ground for you to see?”

 “Spence, it’s a fictional world, I really don’t think they took into account geographical locations of fossils…” you couldn’t help but laugh whenever you spoke about it.

 “Don’t even get me started on the physical anatomy of these animals! How disproportioned they are from the real thing! And the colours, y/n! Have you ever met a purple tiger before?”

 You knew that he meant no harm from his remarks and was probably getting enjoyment out of it. So you’d shrug, offer him a turn and wait for some comment about how he was going to read an FBI report from 1987 again, and open your switch back up once he was distracted.

 One night, you had stayed up late to make wishes on your island. You really needed the star fragments to craft your new DIY recipes and had spent hours posed in position, ready to make a wish. You hadn’t realised that you were falling asleep and your switch was falling out of your hand, until…

 “YES! YES! Take that you stupid arachnid!” you heard a shout.

 Waking up and looking to your left, you blinked in amazement to see Spencer sat with your switch gripped between his fingers.

 “Spence? What are you doing? Are you okay?!” Many sleepless nights and bad dreams had left you very susceptible to fear when you heard shouting.

 He looked over to you and his cheeks flushed. “Oh, y/n, honey I didn’t mean to wake you I’m sorry! It’s just you fell asleep with your game in your hand, I went to turn it off and ended up talking about the stars with this wonderful little owl… She just tells you all these facts. And they are accurate, too! I even wished upon a star.”

 “That’s Celeste.” You commented, and yawned. “Spence, what time is it?”

 He squinted at the screen before replying, “4am.”

 You laughed. “And how long have you been playing animal crossing?”

 His focus went back to the screen but he carried on talking to you. “Oh, a few hours now! I’ve just caught a tarantula, the stupid son of a bitch bit me before! Did you know they could bite you in the game? I was just running around trying to get my bearings and it ran up behind me and bit me. But I showed it who’s boss. And hey! It turns out I was wrong about the fossils, in a sense..”

 You raised one eyebrow, “Dr Reid, wrong?”

 “Well, not wrong exactly. It’s still highly unlikely that they would be so close together, so close to houses, and be found in just one dig. But I took one to the museum after I dug it up and was really surprised. I hadn’t realised how accurate the information provided was about these fossils! And the details in the display, too! You’ve got yourself rather an impressive collection, y/n.”

“Mhmm.” Tiredness was setting in but listening to Spencer talk about your game was more than entertaining. You sat up slowly, leaned across and rested your head on his shoulder. “What else have you been up to?”

 “Well I recalculated the position of some of your flowers to maximise chances of getting hybrids. I know purple is your favourite colour so I looked into the best way to get purple flowers!” Spencer was speaking in that quick, animated tone that told you he was really into something. “I even researched the quickest and most beneficial ways of befriending your villagers to maximise the gifts that they give you. I spent a lot of time talking to the Raymond character.”

 “Raymond reminds me of you, y’know. Dapper, sophisticated, looks great in glasses…” you replied, nudging his shoulder with your forehead. “How did you find out all of this?”

 “Well, I read the whole Nookipedia website and that gave me a pretty good idea.” He turned to you and grinned. Of course, the genius had become the master of your favourite game in a matter of hours. “You can test me on any of the villagers’ names and personality types.”

 You looked down and saw piles of notepaper, all scribbled on, splayed out across the bed. You picked one up entitled ‘terraforming.’ Instead of trying to decipher Spencer’s handwriting, you decided to ask him about it. “Spence… what’s all this paper? What are these drawings?” You tilted your head and the paper simultaneously to try and get a better understanding of his scribbles.

 “Oh! I’ve been looking into reshaping your island. I came up with a few designs I thought you might like. My personal favourite is the honeybee, cos I know they are your favourite, so I calculated how we can use the terraforming tool to turn your island into a bee. Garcia would be so jealous and…” he trailed off.

 “What’s the matter?”

 He looked back at you with big puppy dog eyes. He chewed on his bottom lip a little before he spoke. “I’ve gone too far, haven’t I? This was your game, your private space, I never meant to take over. You really have done a great job…”

 All you could do was laugh. You leaned over and planted a reassuring kiss on his cheek. “Honestly? I’m really happy that you’re into this now. It means I can talk to you about it. Just you wait until you see Garcia’s island!”

“Really, you’re not mad at me?”

“It would be impossible to be mad at you, Spence. Maybe we’ll set up your own character now.”

And with that, you kissed him again, nuzzling into the comfort of his arm. “Show me what else you’ve been doing…”

[hotchley]

(Teen Hotch and Haley prompt)

She knows better than to startle him. Haley knows what that monster does to Aaron, she has patched him up too many times to count. But she figures a hug would be okay, so she comes up behind hotch (Idk what the setting for this would be) and Haley wraps her arms around him and he lurches forward flinching and starts to have a mini panic attack despite her gentleness.

Basically Haley starles Hotch and he has a panic attack and she calms him down. (Feel free to change or alter some of the prompt a little bit) like maybe one of Haley’s friends “play” punches him and he freaks out. Either way Haley comforts him.

seven 

(because that was the song that I listened to the most whilst writing this)

tw: child abuse, panic attacks

Haley Brooks loved Thursdays'. In fact, if she had to choose, she would say that Thursday was her favourite day of the week. Nobody would ever ask her that, but it was. She knew it was strange to pick such a random day, but it was the one day of the week where she felt like she could relax and enjoy herself.

The theatre club met on a Thursday. She loved theatre. It was fun. And it was the one thing Jessica had never done either, so it was entirely hers. No comparisons. No competition. Just her, her friends, and a musical that she already knew she would hate after the final show.

And of course, Aaron Hotchner. Haley loved Aaron. She knew that already. People may have said that it was ridiculous for her- a seventeen year old- to say that she loved someone like that, but what they didn't understand was that this was Aaron.

He was different. There were a million different parts to him, and she seemed to be the only one that ever got to see them all. 

She saw him stumbling through dances, but trying his best and she saw him flustered when people complimented him. She saw him smile- a real, genuine smile- whenever he realised she was staring. She saw him when he was debating, real passion on his face.

She also saw him when he was terrified that his father would find him hiding in her room and take his anger out on her. She saw him when he was so angry with the world that it terrified him because what if he turned out exactly like his father, he couldn't do that and he needed to leave before he damaged her just like everyone else.

It was painful to watch him wince as someone touched his shoulder. It took every ounce of her self-control to not march down to the police station and demand that they arrest Mr Hotchner because he was an evil, evil man that should never have been allowed to have children.

But she couldn't do that. They wouldn't believe her. Aaron had begged her to not say anything. He had tried once. His father had broken his arm and he had ended up in the hospital because he wasn't allowed a hospital.

So she kept his secret. And the window to her room opened all through the evening, even in the winter.

That was the other reason she liked Thursdays'. Mr Hotchner worked late. By the time he came home, Aaron was already hidden away in his room, away from angry fists and alcohol-scented breath. On every other day, there was a chance he would be climbing through her window, blood staining his shirt and tears drying on his cheeks.

Nobody had ever wiped his tears away. The first time she did, he flinched away from her touch. She had thought it was her. Then he apologised, and her heart had ached for him. He spent more time in her house than his own, without anyone knowing, of course. It was stupid, and impossible, but the words were always on the tip of her tongue.

She thought he should live with her. It would be impossible until they both graduated, but she knew her parents would get over themselves eventually. His dad was always angry, even when there was nothing wrong, and it was unfair.

It was unfair that Aaron had to suffer, and it was unfair that nobody was willing to do anything, and it was unfair that his childhood had been torn from him, leaving him a broken shell of the person he could have been. It was unfair that all she could do was clean up the blood and make sure he ate enough.

She liked Thursdays' because she knew Aaron would eat enough. That he would sleep through the night. 

She knew Aaron was not the violent and aggressive man that the teachers treated him as, nor was he the trouble-maker Jessica and her parents believed him to be. He wasn't the strange and weird kid that the rest of the cheerleading squad liked to tease him for being. Aaron was soft and sweet, always sticking up for the younger years and he was smart and funny.

That was why she was so happy that he did theatre with her now. It was one of the few moments where other people could see the version of him that she knew existed and loved with all her heart.

He was talking to one of her friends' about the choreography they were learning. His back was facing her, but she could tell from his hand gestures and generally relaxed stance that he was enjoying himself. That made her smile. He deserved to enjoy himself, and to have something good in his life.

She slid off the table she'd been sat on and headed over. Aaron seemed far less tense than he had in any of the previous rehearsals, and it was nice. Cute, because it meant he didn't care about his rambling or poor dance skills.

They weren't officially together- they'd only been on one date that had been cut short because Aaron had needed to run home- but she liked to think they were dating. Or at the very least, good friends. Sometimes she wanted to kiss him, if only to convince him that he was worthy of love, but it was never the right moment.

A hug was okay. Friends hugged all the time. And besides, Aaron could always do with hugs, but there were very few people that were allowed to give them to him. His brother didn't count, because most of the time, Aaron was the one hugging him and that was different. His mother hardly touched him now. 

She stepped forward, pressing a finger to her lips when her friend went to say hello. Her friend nodded and turned her attention back to Aaron, who was still rambling about something or other. It sounded like he was talking about Les Miserables, which impressed her.

Haley took one more step forward.

Aaron felt hands wrap around his stomach. His stomach which had bruises forming because his father hadn't even bothered to take his shoes off before taking his anger out on his eldest son. He flinched, but it was too slight for anyone to even notice. Haley pressed her forehead to his shoulder, hugging him tightly.

Her touch was gentle. Her hands were soft. But Aaron did not feel that. He did not feel the love or joy that she did at having him close. He just felt the fear and dread that he always felt when his father came home before he could escape. He felt calloused hands that were harsh and unforgiving.

Before he was aware of what he'd done, he had twisted out of her grip and ran out the room. It was a habit he wasn't even aware of anymore- always standing as close to the door as he could. He had no idea where he was meant to go, only that he needed to get away.

Haley remained frozen in position. She looked down at her hands. Mr Hotchner's hands were much larger than hers. Rougher too. When they touched Aaron, it was to inflict pain and hurt. She knew how that monster touched him. She'd cleaned him up enough times. She should have known better.

But she'd just assumed he would be fine, and now she was here, frozen in position whilst he fled, probably that somebody was going to hurt him.

"Is he okay?" her friend asked.

That shocked her back to reality. "I- give me two minutes okay?"

She ran out the room without even waiting for a response. This had happened once before. It had been terrifying, but they'd gotten through it together, and afterwards Aaron had been so grateful. It made her sick to think that he'd been going through it alone.

Without an ounce of hesitation, she entered the boys' bathroom. Only one door was open. She immediately ran over to it and sat down.

Aaron was struggling to breathe, tears streaming down his cheeks as he rested his head against the wall.

"Aaron," Haley said, fighting to keep her voice steady. This wasn't about her. She needed to be strong for him.

He shook his head. Haley longed to touch him, but they were both still just trying to work out what worked for him. Touch was not one of those things. So she sat opposite him instead, close enough that he could hear her without having to struggle.

"Baby it's me. Haley. We're going to get through this. I need you to listen to me though. Can you do that?" The term of endearment slipped out by accident, but she wasn't about to take it back. Short sentences that were easy to understand were key to helping him through whatever happened to him in these moments.

He nodded, once, slightly hesitant.

"Good. I'm going to breathe in. Can you do that with me?"

Aaron nodded, and she just prayed she was doing this right. She inhaled, slightly relaxing when he did the same. She counted to five and hoped that was the right number, before exhaling. Aaron did the same.

"You're doing so good for me Aar," she assured.

She had no idea how much time passed. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. But eventually, Aaron's breathing returned to normal and he didn't flinch when she held her hand out for him to take. The pressure grounded him.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"You should come and live with me," she blurted out. Immediately, she cringed. Aaron was already so much older than he seemed. Saying that would only make him realise just how immature she was.

He smiled slightly, drawing circles over her knuckle. "Yeah?"

"Mhm. We could do whatever we wanted. Like eat pancakes for dinner, and dance round the kitchen whenever wanted, and watch those rom-coms that you love so much," she said, smiling slightly.

"That'd be nice. Tell me more about this life of ours together."

She could never tell him no. It was halfway through her spiel about the way they would decorate their hallway that she realised exactly why he wanted her to speak. He found her voice soothing and it was helping him.

So she decided to be brave, and she took a chance.

"Aar?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you. And I think we should go on a date," she said, all in one breath.

"What?"

"You don't have to say yes. It's just- I'm sat here, planning out what our future home looks like but you don't even know how I feel and I needed you to know that."

"I don't think anyone's ever loved me," he confessed quietly.

"Can I hug you?" she asked, not sure what she was meant. Because saying that wasn't true would be an insult to everything that he had been through. Love hurt sometimes, yes, but not in the way that he was.

He nodded. He still tensed when her arms went to his stomach, but she took her time, making sure he knew it was her, not someone else. When she finally embraced him, he sobbed into her shoulder.

She just ran her hand through his hair. "One day, we're going to get out of here, and it's going to be the best time of our lives."

They did eventually get out of that small town. And they ate pancakes for dinner, danced to ABBA hits in their tiny kitchen that wasn't even made for two people, watched silly rom-coms that never failed to make Aaron tear up, and they decorated their hallway with photos of them and their friends.

[writingjoycebyers]

Twice in her life — or: the last days he saw her smile

(Joyce Byers x Jim Hopper - observations of a friendship — a one shot)

warnings: a bit angsty, mentions sex (not explicit)

Reblogs, comments and feedback make me really happy. Let me know if you like it or what else you'd like to read. No one asked for this. My brain just came up with it. ✨❤️👀 There's a little bonus at the end and I gotta say it's a little off canon maybe. Have fun✨❤️

Enjoy the read...

Joyce Byers had been left twice in her life.

One might think it's a story about Lonnie. But no, it's most definetely not. Lonnie doesn't count. Lonnie is a side character. She left Lonnie, kicked him out all by herself after all those years that would have been wasted if they hadn't been for her boys. Her boys were her gift, and the only thing she'd ever thank Lonnie for, to some degree. He helped create them, but she had been the one to form them. She was the one she should thank for, really.

No, Joyce Byers had been left twice in her life, and it had been much more subtle events than her large fights with Lonnie, making her the main topic of the gossip all those midaged ladies were spreading at the grocery store, the doctor's office, the elementary school. You heard it? someone called the police to Joyce Byers house.

Joyce Byers had been left twice in her life, and nobody had really noticed, but her.

The first time, she had just turned nineteen. It was a rather warm day in September, and life in Hawkins couldn't be easier. High-school was done, the heat of the summer was still lingering in the air, and her dark hair was still damp from swimming in the lake as she rode around Hawkins with her best friend, Jim Hopper. Or... Was he her best friend still? She sometimes couldn't tell, couldn't put a label on it, when he was kissing her senseless in the back of his dad's old truck, parked in the dark at Lover's Lake, parked in the shade of a large oak tree — so that although it was the middle of the night, and no one would come there anyways, they'd have a bit of privacy, a roof of leaves covering their clumsy attempt on passing first base. Friends didn't do that, right?

They rode along the streets of Hawkins, and Joyce had her legs propped up on the dashboard of his car, puffing away on one of Hop‘s cigarettes. They tasted awful, but she did not mind as long as it were his. She felt connected to him through that cig. Tonight was the night. Tonight, she‘d tell him - tell him that she wanted to be more than friends, more than friends who make out occasionally. She wanted to finally look into his eyes and work up the courage to say Jim, I like you a little more than expected.

She looked at him from the side, his hands holding the steering wheel, his gaze fixed on the road as day turned into night with a wonderfully orange sky. Tonight was the night she‘d say it. Jim, you make my fucking heart race.

Jim looked beautiful to her, peaceful and innocent, like he didn‘t know that outside Hawkins there was a whole world — both good and bad — that was waiting for them and looming like a dark shadow at the same time. For him, this dark shadow could mean draft cards, his ticket off to fight a war he himself hadn‘t started, a conflict neither him nor Joyce would ever support or understand. She knew it could be his duty to leave one day, but she could still breathe every day his number didn‘t come up. As long as Hopper didn‘t have to take the trip, she wouldn‘t have to take hers either: Her trip down the road of loneliness, facing the fact that she couldn‘t afford college, being left behind with the mess she had to call her parents. She knew he wasn‘t all that innocent though, stealing booze from his dad‘s wine cellar, sharing the bottle with her shamelessly on a friday night. She knew he wasn‘t all that innocent when he pressed his body into hers, parked under that old oak tree, and she could feel his need and want press against her while he silently accepted her wish to explore second base, but not enter the third one just yet. He kissed her, and told her that it didn‘t matter how far he had gone with other girls - that all that mattered was her needs. That specific night under the oak tree though, Joyce had realised that the tingling feeling in her belly was growing more and more, and that she wouldn‘t be able to hold back for much longer. I‘ve never done it, Jim. Her whispers had been low and husky, and he had caressed her cheek as she had thought of the moment she had once caught him and Chrissy Carpenter in the back of the blonde cheerleader's car. I know, Joycie, don‘t worry about that, one day we‘ll take it slow, just give me a sign. Tonight would be the night she‘d give him said sign, she thought, as he took a turn into the road she lived on.

He pulled up into her driveway, slowing down to park in front of her house. Tonight was the night.Tonight he‘d tell her - tell her that she meant the world to him, but that he‘d have to go, and that he‘d understand if she didn‘t wait. Tell her that he‘d try to write, no matter what. Joyce, I should have told you sooner. He had kept it to himself for weeks, had just not found the words to break the news to her. The letter had been in his mailbox one rainy Monday afternoon, telling him to fight a war he neither could nor wanted to understand. A war that would send him to hell and leave Joyce in the small little bubble of a heaven that was Hawkins, Indiana. He was a coward, he couldn‘t tell her, not when they were riding in his car, or munching on a burger at the diner, not whilst smoking on her windowsill and especially not whilst kissing her in the dark, parked in the shadow of the old oak tree. He just couldn‘t, but tonight was the night. Joycie, I gotta go to Vietnam. My train leaves tomorrow.

Jim pulled the keys, and she looked at him. It was a ritual already: They’d spend their day at the lake, he‘d drive her home long after dark and as her parents were barely ever home anyways, he‘d follow her up to her room under the roof and they‘d sit by the window, smoking and kissing and exchanging little secrets. Jim loved Joyce, and Joyce loved Jim. They both knew it, they just never said a word.

The two friends, him, tall and blonde and her, small and brunette, took their usual spot by her large window. He was just about to light the last smoke from his pack, when Joyce reached for the cigarette, her hand grazing his as she took it, putting it aside. She kissed Jim with such force than that he nearly lost track of time and place. Was this still Hawkins, Indiana?

They kissed, and kissed ... and kissed some more, before she finally pulled away, taking his large hand into her small one. Their fingers were intertwined, her thumb drawing small circles to the side of his hand. Dark doe eyes met blue ones, and she breathed in once more before saying it: “Jim, I think... you‘re my best friend. But I also think... I‘m in love with you.“

Her words came out all in one breath, more a sighed whisper than a real sentence, but she had said them. Her pulse was pounding as she waited for him to respond. She had practiced the worst case already: That‘s okay, Jim, you do not have to love me back. I just hope we can stay friends?

But then his hand found her cheek and he pulled her closer, whispering an I love you, Joycie, right onto her lips as he found hers, grazing them softly. It felt like a gentle hello to Joyce, like this was the start of something new, although she had kissed him a hundred times before. She couldn‘t know it was a goodbye. Quickly, their kisses became more passionate, hungry and loving. Does he love me, she wants to know, how can she know if he loves her so?

That night, Jim Hopper made love to Joyce Horowitz — sweet, gentle and slow love. He touched her in a way he had never touched anyone before, softer, more tender - out of love and out guilt, his conscience forcing him to treat her even better, to worship her body to balance out the fact that he couldn‘t be true to her. His feelings for her were so strong that they held him back from breaking her heart - although it would in the end have to be broken, if he wanted that or not.

They shared that last cigarette afterwards, the one that had been waiting on the window sill. They‘d not share another one until almost twenty years later.

That night, Joyce Horowitz made love to Jim Hopper — sweet, gentle and slow love. She touched him in a way she had never touched anyone before, soft, tender and a bit shy as she explored his body and her own, further discovering the hot, tingling feeling in her lower belly as their clothes sprawled out on the floor and their bodies intertwined under her comforter. It‘s in his kiss.

Joyce fell asleep in Jim‘s arms, breathing softly as she felt safe and secure of the fact that he loved her too, that they were more than friends and that this was just the start.

Jim watched Joyce fall asleep in his arms, pulling her as close as he could once more. He wanted to remember this moment forever, capture every little detail for the nights to come in which he‘d sleep somewhere in the jungle of the war, with so many miles separating him from the girl he loved. He studied her face in the dim light of her room before falling asleep for a few hours himself.

When Joyce woke up the next morning, she already began to smile with her eyes still closed. It was a rainy Monday morning, she could hear the raindrops fall against her window in a steady rythm - It was soothing and she was ready to cuddle up again. She turned around, reaching for Jim, only to find the bed empty. She sat up, confused and still half asleep, stumbling across a note.

- Joy, I should have told you sooner. I won‘t forget our summer. My train leaves today, I‘m gone into training for Nam. Please don‘t come looking for me at the station. I’ll be gone already. I‘ll write. Jim. -

Joyce Horowitz had been left for the first time in her life, broken and flustered, unable to move or cry for hours and hours. She sat in bed, the note in her hands, and she cursed Jim, the world, the war and love - and even herself for falling for him. She didn‘t believe there was a feeling on earth that could be more horrible. Joyce Horowitz had been left for the first time in her life, and she had no clue there would be a second one.

......... 20 years later.........

Joyce looked at Jim one more time as he stood next to the machine, tears in their eyes, both his and hers.

I love you.

I love you.

Leaning to the side, she reached for the keys once more. She stopped breathing as she turned them, held her breath as lights blended her vision, time stopping around her and then... he was gone.

Joyce Byers had been left twice in her life.

_____________________________________

Thanks for reading everyone. I appreciate every kind of constructive feedback. Feel free to send asks or messages if you wanna talk about this little piece here, or if you have any other Joyce asks or prompts!

Bonus: a little mood board I made

Sources: there's a reference to the shoop shoop song. Pics are all from pinterest if anyone Needs the sources. I don't own anything related to ST or Winona Ryder. Credit goes to the respective owners and creates, I just wrote this little fic for fun.

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

I Hope That It Was Worth It | Sweet Pea

A/N: gonna try and dive back into writing on tumblr since I get these ideas for aus and fics and stuff that won’t fit into the big thirty-chapter fic I’m writing (if anyone is interested in that, please, let me know!)  So, starting off with a song based au. :)

Summary: you and Sweet Pea have a complicated relationship. You started out as friends, best friends. But by High School, you made a friends-with-benefits-deal until one time, you leave town for a couple of days during summer and Sweet Pea decides to fuck someone else. 

Warnings: cursing, angst, mention of sex 

Words: 1545

Song: Josslyn by Olivia O’brien 

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader 

You and Sweet Pea have been friends since forever. Both of you grew up on the Southside and met at Kindergarten. You were being picked on by some other Serpent kids and he saved you from them. Ever since, the two of you were inseparable. You stuck by each other’s side through elementary school, middle school and now high school. Especially through the transfer to Riverdale High.  That’s when it all started too. It was the first day at Riverdale High and you were frustrated beyond repair. All because that stupid Bulldog had to draw a deformed snake on the school’s emblem on the floor, blaming the Serpents for it of course, and thus the Principal banning all gang paraphernalia. You knew they hated you, but this was just idiotic.  “I can’t believe once again, we’re being cast out,” you said when pacing Sweet Pea’s trailer after school that day. “Can’t they see they’re the culprits in this? We’re doing nothing. The biggest mistake we made was being born.”  “I get that you’re frustrated, Y/N. But look at it like this; Riverdale High has flushing toilets, computer labs, textbooks. Everything we didn’t have back at Southside High. If that means leaving the jacket at home and covering my tattoo from 9 to 4, I’m okay with that,” Sweet Pea told you. But it didn’t help to calm you down. “I know what you need.” He then stood up and walked towards the kitchen to get some food, making you stop in your tracks right in front of him.  “Fuck me,” you blatantly said. Sweet Pea’s eyes widened. He couldn’t deny the fact that he’s thought of that multiple times. But they’re best friends, they can’t do that, can they?  “Y/N,” he said in a scoff. “We’re best friends.”  “I know,” you sighed, “But I’m incredibly frustrated and I really need to work it out on something or someone. We could look at it as just a casual thing. You know? No strings attached.” Sweet Pea mulled over the thought for a second. But only a second. He then nodded defiantly and grabbed your hand to lead you to his bedroom. And exactly then and there, all of it started.  It began as once, that one day. And then a couple days later, you found yourself knocking at his door again. It became more regularly. Every time either one of you got frustrated about something, you called or knocked on each other’s door for the exact same reason. It even got so far that you had started to develop feelings for him. But you wouldn’t tell him that. 

For months you two kept on going, upholding your friendship while having sex pretty much every day. You even kept it a secret for a while until the one faithful day when Fangs accidentally walked in on the two of you.  “Hey, bro, FP needs us --” he stopped in his tracks when he found Sweet Pea on top of you on the sofa, both of you buck naked. He screamed and brought his hands to his eyes while the two of you screamed out his name in terror. “Sorry, sorry!” Fangs ran out of the trailer to go and tell Toni about his trauma. The two of you then decided to call it quits for the night since the mood was gone anyway. After getting dressed, the two of you went to the Wyrm where you found a shocked Fangs and Toni trying to calm him down.  “So, you two are boning now?” Toni asked when you approached their table. Fangs whimpers as if seeing either one of you naked was such a big traumatic experience.  “I will never unsee it,” he whispered dramatically.  “Oh, come on, dude,” you began, shaking your head, “You just saw us naked, it’s not like we were already doing it.” Fangs just whimpers again.  “What is this? You guys dating or just fucking?” Toni asked.  “Just fucking,” the two of you respond, earning another whimper from the smaller Serpent. 

Even after that faithful day, you kept doing the ritual daily. Come back from school, do homework, go to bed, then one would call the other to come over, wake up in the same bed, repeat. Your feelings for Sweet Pea have just increased every damn day. And he couldn’t deny he was feeling the same thing, but neither of you wanted to ruin anything between the two of you. It worked the way it was.  Until you left town during summer for a couple of days. You never told Sweet Pea about your feelings or if he could see other girls while you were away. And when you came back to Riverdale, you find out Sweet Pea and Josie have been fucking around the entire summer.  “He’s at the pool with her right now,” Cheryl told you cautiously as the fire in your eyes nourished. You walk away from Cheryl and Toni, and up to the pool where you, indeed find Sweet Pea and Josie making out at the edge of the pool.  “So, that’s why you could never call me while I was away,” you said when you reached them. Your arms were crossed, and a scowl was plastered on your face.  “Y/N, welcome home,” he said, sounding insecure about what you’d expect to tell him.  “Welcome home? Seriously, Sweet Pea? You spent your summer fucking her, telling me you couldn’t even call me while I was up in Greendale visiting my family, and now I get a ‘welcome home’?” The volume of your voice raised with every word that rolls off your lips.  “I’m leaving,” Josie said and wanted to get up, but you stopped her.  “Don’t bother, Josie. I’m leaving. I don’t want to fight; I just don’t ever want to talk again.” The words were addressed to Sweet Pea while you answered Josie.  “Y/N, please, let us talk,” Sweet Pea said whilst running after you as you had already turned on your heel to stalk off.  “No, Sweet Pea, I don’t ever want to talk to you again.”  “I don’t get you. We were never together, why are you suddenly so mad at me for going with other girls while you’re gone.” His voice now raises too, matching yours perfectly.  “But we were more than friends, Pea! I just thought you might feel the same about me since we spent every night together. But I guess I read the signs wrong. There’s nothing left, Pea because you did nothing right,” you started to walk off again, and this time, he didn’t stop you.  

A few hours passed since you left Cheryl Blossom’s party and went to the Wyrm to drink away your sorrows. Sure, alcohol wasn’t the answer, but it sure did make you forget the question in the first place.  “Thought I’d find you here,” Sweet Pea’s sudden voice buzzed through your ears. Just hearing his voice broke your heart. Oh, how you wished things were different.  “You really had to go and ruin it, just to get a quick fuck,” you mumbled while twirling the cheap vodka in your glass. “I mean, I’m sure you had fun doing it, so I won’t make a big fuss about it. I just want to know why? Why her? Why a Northsider of all people? What happened to ‘I don’t date Northsiders’?” Sweet Pea sighed deeply and took a seat on the stool beside you.  “Josie isn’t half as bad. Besides, since Cheryl joined the Serpents and Betty’s kind of the Serpent Queen, we sort of merge with the Northsiders over the summer. It’s not that big a deal anymore.”  “Were we a big deal to you?” You tried your hardest to keep your voice from cracking as the tears stung at the back of your eyes.  “Yes, of course we were. You’re my best friend, Y/N.” You finally looked him in the eyes, just so he could see how much he’d hurt you. Even those words that had just rolled off his lips broke you.  “Was that all I was to you? A best friend you fucked almost every single night?” A tear rolled off your cheek. Sweet Pea’s mouth opened and closed, making him look like a fish, before he sighed deeply.  “No, you were always more than a best friend to me, Y/N.”  “Then why’d you do it?” Your voice grew louder as it saddened you less and angered you more. “Why’d you go and fuck Josie?” The sharpness of your tone makes Sweet Pea flinch a little.  “I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t know why I did it. She was just there when you weren���t.” You scoffed, shaking your head.  “So, you’re blaming me for having left the town,” Sweet Pea wanted to protest, but you cut him off by continuing, “Please, don’t ever call again. I hope that it was worth it, fucking Josie.” You chugged the rest of your vodka before gathering your stuff and leaving the bar to head home. Angry and sad tears mixed on your cheeks as you walked all the way to your own trailer. And there, everything suddenly came to you. You’d just lost your best friend, the one you’d fallen in love with. Your everything. 

[sombreboy]

Love Maze »1

Series masterlist  » Next ▎ 18+  ▎ pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook  ▎ genre: School AU, crack humor, smut, angst, ETL, slow burn. ▎ word count: 7.4k ▎ ch.warnings: They’re basketball boys in the school team lol, cursing, mxm, two dumb boys trying to figure their feelings, smut, anal (pls use lube irl this is fiction!), mentions of alcoholic father, some angsty feelings. Idk what else lmk, just, don’t read this if you’re sensitive to messy angsty feels, mxm smut, dumb humor & lots of cursing. A/N at the end of the post!

Taehyung didn’t know what kind of response he was expecting from Jungkook. Perhaps something like, ‘Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone, let’s forget about it.’ That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less. But what he didn’t expect to read was what he received, and his body language proved that. His shoulders were tense, and his jaw was locked in place. Tae ran a hand through his damp hair, repeating Kook’s words in his head. ‘But you didn’t say we should stop..’ What the fuck kind of dumbassery was that? And why wasn’t Taehyung opposed to the idea of it?

‘‘Taehyung, the hell’s wrong with you today? Get your head in the game!’’

Those same series of words kept on repeating themselves in the back of Taehyung’s busy mind, almost taunting him in a way.

Namjoon, their team captain, had made it very clear this early morning—Six o’clock, to be exact, that Taehyung was out of it, and was lazily dragging his feet across the court.

The latter knew that Joon’s only intention was to help him, but if he hadn’t bit down on his tongue, Taehyung would’ve lost his shit. 

Who the fuck thought that it was a good idea to start practice so goddamn early in the morning?

Tae was a mixture of surprise and thankful that he didn’t just fall asleep right then and there. 

Truth be told, there was a strong urge to..

Because of this, Taehyung almost regretted staying up so late into the night slashing zombies left and right, searching for ammo, yelling profanities out of anger when someone would sneak attack him—almost. He was way too invested in his gaming to truly feel any guilt.

But, much to his shock, the boy felt a sense of guilt begin to gnaw at him throughout the day, hence why he was making his way towards the familiar gym once again. This time not half-dead.

Tae knew how much this upcoming game meant to Namjoon.

As he began to get settled in, glad that he was the only one there, Taehyung casually practiced his free throws. He challenged himself to make it from different spots in the court, succeeding in most of them.

Minutes later when he was beginning to get in the groove of things, in waltzed Jeon Jungkook.

Fucking great. Just what he needed.

Tae let out a defeated sigh, meeting the other boy’s gaze for a split second before continuing with what he was doing.

“What the hell are you doing here.” It was a mumbled question, no trace of enjoyment laced in his lower tone.

Jungkook glanced at Taehyung, their eyes met for a split second as he walked in. Tae's snarky comment had Jungkook roll his tongue on the inside of his cheek with annoyance, glaring with furrowed eyebrows as he went to the opposed side of the play field. He brought his own basketball, bouncing it a few times to make sure it had enough air, "To practice, what the hell does it look like?" He scoffed before the loud echo of the basketball was the only sound coming from his end of the court.

A sour scoff originated from the back of Taehyung’s throat, whom in response to Jungkook’s presence tried to show off by shooting the basketball from a further position.

“Yeah,” The boy began, extending out his arms, “you need lots of practice, alright.”

He successfully made it into the net.

Call him childish, but the little smile tugging at the corners of his lips was getting hard to ignore..

Ever since the age of eight, when Jungkook was introduced to his group of friends, Tae enjoyed finding different ways to irk him.

From chasing him around the playground with a worm in his hand, bumping shoulders into him whenever he felt like it, to making fun of his Basketball skills.. it was amusing, he couldn’t lie.

“Hey, you.” The taller didn’t bother referring to ‘you’ by his name, “We should play against each other. You could learn a few things from me.”

Jungkook grit his teeth, dashing towards his hoop to jump up and slam dunk the basketball into the hoop, much harder than intended. He’d been working out a lot lately, and his strength was finally showing, and he couldnt wait to wipe that grin off Tae's face.

"Eat shit," he frowned, but he accepted his challenge, "Fine." He threw his ball to the side, getting ready to sprint towards him with a speed completely new to the elder. Taehyung would be lying if he said he wasn’t the least bit fazed by the look of determination in Jungkook’s eyes.

This wasn’t the Jungkook he knew, who the hell was this person?

However, he wouldn’t let the younger scare him, no matter how often he tried to play the “Big Wolf”.

It was pathetic, really.

Those pretty eyes didn’t compliment that facade at all.

“Nah, I’ll pass,” Taehyung smirked, sharp eyes hooded as he studied the other’s every movement.

Tauntingly bouncing the ball in front of the younger, Tae managed to dodge the figure coming towards him and instead charged towards the opposite net. Nothing but determined to one-up Jungkook.

It was always a struggle, it didn't matter if Jungkook was stronger, Taehyung would always seem to be faster, one step ahead of the game. He quickly turned on his heels, the sole of his shoes squeaking against the floor as he sprints to catch up with Taehyung, trying his hardest to push himself to use his strength to attempt to jump in front of Tae before he'd be able to throw the ball.

Much to his dismay, Jungkook actually manages to bat the ball in a different direction midair, preventing Taehyung from scoring his shot.

Now he just feels like a dumbass..

He doesn’t stop there, though. 

Instead of backing out, Taehyung’s drive only soars through the roof. The latter wasn’t about to let Kook show him how it’s done.

He was the one in charge.

In a swift movement, after running across the court whilst dribbling the ball, Taehyung jumped up in the air and made it even.

“Back in the game, baby!” The taller cheered, pumping a fist in the air.

Time seemed to get lost the more time they spent playing against each other, and surprisingly, Taehyung didn’t seem to mind it.

Jungkooks dark curls was clinging to the sweaty skin of his face, heavy shallow breaths taken as they kept playing against one another for quite a while. It was rather fun, and it gave Jungkook the energy and drive to keep going, keep trying his best. They were both extremely skilled, so the game kept going even back and forth, the competitive tension stronger than ever--but he was getting tired.. his muscles ached, his body coated in a layer of glistening sweat.

“Getting tired already, Kook?” Taehyung playfully snarked, completely disregarding the fact that he was also drenched with sweat from running from one end to the other over and over again.

“That’s weak.” He wouldn’t admit that, though. “Come on, one last match.” The boy stated, his defined stomach on full display as he used the end of his Jersey to wipe at his face.

Not bothering waiting for an answer, Tae hoped that the challenging look in his eyes was enough to draw Jungkook in.

As he began dribbling the ball, waiting to see what the younger’s next move would be, Taehyung began charging towards the familiar net, passion evident in his face when—POW!—He tripped on his undone shoelace and fell on top of Jungkook.

“Fuck..” He hissed, feeling some minor pain emerge from his lower leg but thankfully, Kook’s body was there to act as a cushion.

After the taller managed to redeem himself (to the best of his abilities), he brought up his face from Kook’s chest to look down at the other.

Taehyung’s hands were placed on either side of Jungkook’s head, chest heaving and sweat beads streaming down his temples.

He didn’t know why, but his body wouldn’t move away from its position. It was like he was stuck there.. face so close to Jungkook’s..

Everything happened so fast that one moment Jungkook was preparing to charge towards Taehyung, and the next he was on his back on the floor, something heavy weighing him down. He opened his eyes, and they blew wide as soon as he saw the view above. Taehyung was so sweaty, and he looked... incredibly good up close. Jungkook froze, holding his breath and it felt like his heart skipped several beats, his arms laying limp above his head in such a position that had him feeling vulnerable. The tension between the two was so strong, at this point he wasn’t able to differentiate whether it was pure anger or pure lust that flowed through his entire being.

‘What the fuck is going on..?’ Taehyung asked himself, swallowing down all of his remaining questions in the shape of a strong gulp.

“Uh..” Was all he had to say, continuing to stare down at Jungkook like an intrigued weirdo, eyes skimming over the little details on the younger’s face. From the small scar on the side of his cheek, to the beauty marks perfectly placed on his skin.. Tae was infatuated.

He would never, in a million years say that out loud, but was he thinking it..

The boy wanted to say something like, “Wow, you’re even uglier up close,” but that was so far off from the truth, it would be a sin.

The heat erupting in Jungkooks body made itself known through the shade of red creeping on his cheeks, feeling himself getting flustered. Why wasn't Tae moving away? Why didnt he say something? But then again, he was completely frozen in place as well, having nothing to counter with. His lips fell open, a quiet breath escaping his lips, unable to find the words he was so desperately seeking.

Before he could tell right from wrong, Taehyung’s lips met Jungkook’s in an awkward kiss, hesitating at the start before finally gaining the courage to move them against the younger’s a little more naturally.

It was slow at first, Tae’s bigger hand cupping the side of Kook’s face, not wanting him to pull away by any means.

His thumb found itself caressing over that same scar he took notice of not too long ago, Taehyung’s own cheeks overtaken by a rosy hue.

Then, like the spell had been broken, Tae broke the kiss.

“Fuck.. uh..”

He looked like an absolute dumbass, didn’t he?

“You should use some lip balm, or something.” The boy cleared his throat, still not parting their bodies.

Something was wrong with him.

Jungkook was dumbfounded, staring at Taehyung as if he was a deer in headlights. Fuck, this was confusing. He had been struggling with how he felt towards Tae, trying so hard to suppress his feelings for him, and now feeling his lips in a kiss, his hand gently touching his cheek, it was as if all of the walls he had been building up around this enigma called Taehyung was slowly crumbling down. It was terrifying, and it clouded his thoughts, now all he could think about was the desperate need to feel those lips on his once more, "A-again..." He whispered, so quietly it was barely audible, almost hoping Taehyung wouldnt hear it.

Taehyung heard it. Clearly.

And he didn’t budge when it came to giving Jungkook what he wanted.

Tae kissed the other once more, gently sucking onto his bottom lip as if asking for entrance, for permission to take it one step further.

The older’s hand slowly traveled down to Jungkook’s waist, snaking under the boy’s Jersey, gently squeezing at the bare skin, feeling Jungkook’s sweat against the palm of his hand.

Suddenly, a drive to feel more hit Taehyung like a truck. 

Teasingly, the taller’s slender fingers brushed over Jungkook’s nipple as he stared down at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Searching for a bigger reaction, Tae squeezed on the perky bud, lightly tugging at it here and there. Meanwhile, his hooded eyes were set on studying every movement in the younger’s face.

Jungkooks parted his lips even further in a gasp, allowing the kiss to deepen. He whimpered quietly, extremely responsive under Taehyungs ministrations on his nipple. His cheeks were more than just pink now, but a shade of rosey red, his chest starting to heave up and down heavier. His entire body was aching for him to do more, anything, and he was almost ready to beg at this point, eyes pleading with tae to continue

The sight of the younger’s body reacting in such a way was enough to awaken more than just Taehyung’s inner want for more; he felt himself begin to envision what it would be like if they took it a couple steps further, Jungkook whimpering.. just like he was now, so quiet yet so loud to Tae’s ears.

By now, the tent in the latter’s shorts had made itself obvious as his fingers continued to rub over Jungkook’s nipple, pinching the tip just for the fun of it.

“Let’s get the hell out of here, hm?” The older’s already deep voice seemed to get an octave deeper. 

Taehyung finally pulled himself up from his spot on the ground, before extending out a hand for the other to take. If he wasn’t so clouded with lust, Tae would’ve been embarrassed at the fact that he had a massive boner in front of Jungkook.

But, as he led the younger downstairs, smaller hand in his, that was the least of his worries.

Jungkook nodded, eyes flickering between their joined hands and the floor as he blindly followed Taehyung to whever he'd take him. At this point, he'd go wherever for this man, his heart pounding heavily as he felt his own erection strain the fabric of his pants, lips pressed tightly together to keep his whimpers in check.

Taehyung halted in his quick steps upon reaching the familiar locker room, hand letting go of Jungkook’s as he peeked his head around, trying to make sure they were the only ones around.

Thankfully, no one else was in sight.

The older reluctantly turned back around to face Kook, hesitating on whether or not to place his hands on the latter’s waist.

At the end, he said ‘fuck it’ and needily pulled Jungkook close to him by the waist, trying so hard not to listen to the consciousnes in the back of his head..

With a bit of hesitation, Taehyung’s lips aimed for the crook of the younger’s neck, nuzzling his face into the warmth before beginning to press open-mouthed kisses along the skin.

He gently sucked on a spot, nibbling on it teasingly, wanting nothing more than to make Jungkook enjoy it just as much as he did.

“Tae...” Jungkook breathed out his name with a quiet moan, sensitive to every single touch. He places his hands palms flat on Tae’s chest, granting the man access to his neck by moving his head to the side. His needy erection grew harder, leaving little to the imagination through his basketball shorts. The aching throb between his legs was screaming for attention, however he did enjoy the slow buildup

The older, as much as he was turned on, didn’t quite know how to tackle this sudden.. urge to feel Jungkook; all of him.

Sure, he’s had sex in the past, too many times to keep track of. But he’d never gotten this close to another guy before.

It was one thing to watch gay porn, but when it actually came to showcasing what he’d seen through a screen.. it was nerve wracking.

Tae didn’t know where to begin.

The taller pulled his Jersey over his head, leaving him shirtless in front of the younger. 

He guessed that was a better start than none.

However, almost as if someone else had taken over him, Taehyung drove Jungkook’s body back against the lockers, his kissing more rough, and his leg placed in the middle of the younger’s.

Jungkooks back hit the lockers with a loud thud, a yelp drowning in his throat, muffled by Tae’s lips. His jaw fell slack, granting the man access to his mouth. His body was almost shaking, this feeling and need so overwhelming that his skin is hypersensitive to every bit of attention it receives. This was like a dream, it felt surreal, how did he end up here? What was going to happen later? His thoughts were drowned out when he felt the friction of Tae’s leg against his crotch, and he wishes so desperately to be touched, rutting subtly against his thigh.

Growing needier by the second, Taehyung pulled away from their heated kiss to undo the strings in his shorts, hands shaky as they fumbled with the fabric.

The older’s bottom lip got caught in between his teeth in concentration, overgrown fringe falling down on his eyes like a curtain; a lot of secrets hidden behind his intense gaze.

Once he was left standing in just his boxers, Taehyung’s hands now tugged at Kook’s clothing, wanting to make it even.

In the heat of the moment, a little chuckle slipped past the older’s lips, “What the fuck kind of boxers are you wearing..?”

His eyes amusingly skimmed over the patterns engraved in the soft fabric, holding back his laughter.

Jungkook frowned, his cheeks on fire as he averted Taehyungs eyes, “fuck you...” he hissed, but his voice came out weaker than he wished it did. It cracked at the end into a whine, only causing his embarrassment to grow further. He was so vulnerable like this, exposed to the man that he’s been pining for, the very man he’s been trying to suppress his emotions for, trying to hate him. But he couldn’t. His hands were clawing at Tae’s shoulders, pressing his back against the wall to get some room to breathe within the thick intensity of the moment.

If he wasn’t such at a loss for words, Tae would’ve taken this opportunity to make fun of Jungkook, but it seemed like his mouth was too dry to even utter a letter.

His gaze traveled from the younger’s dorky boxers to his small waist, then to his abs.. his chest, neck, and lastly to his face.

Suddenly, Taehyung got the confidence to speak at the sight.

“You shy, Kook?” He smirked, not failing to take notice of the splash of red dusted on his cheeks.

He looked so.. vulnerable. Taehyung wanted to jump at the chance to corrupt him.

The older parted their distance, looking down at Jungkook with so much hunger in his eyes before swiftly turning him around, pressing his bulge against the younger’s ass.

Tae’s lips hovered above the other’s shoulders, pressing more kisses onto the side of his neck as he teasingly grinded his hips into Jungkook, getting that desperate friction he needed.

''N-no, a-ah...!'' He gave up on trying to argue him, another small noise drowning in his throat when he gets turned around, placing his palms flat against the lockers, his chest pressing against the cold surface. He whimpers when he feels Tae's lips on his neck, shivers running down his spine, goosebumps appearing on his skin. If anybody saw him in this state, his whole image as a jocked bad boy would be completely ruined. But at this moment, nothing mattered. Nothing mattered more than the greedy desperation he feels for Taehyung, he couldn't be physically satiated until he got everything. Jungkook bit his lower lip to prevent more whimpers from escaping, but to no avail, his pathetic noises muffled as his hips press back against Taehyung, his plump ass rubbing against the large bulge pressing on his behind.

Even Taehyung struggled to hold back his noises of pleasure as he stared down at the way Jungkook’s ass moved against him.. 

“Fuck..” The older grunted, increasing his pace as he continued to grind against Kook, but, that wasn’t enough.

He needed more.

In one swift movement, the boy’s underwear found itself down to his ankles, his cock springing up to slap against one of Jungkook’s cheek.

Now that various of thoughts rushed into his head, 90% of them were questions.

Had the younger even been fucked by a guy before?

Was he okay with this?

Shit—Taehyung didn’t want to think about that.

So, he settled for dismissing all of his thoughts and worries. How much more different could it be?

In a hurry, Tae soon tugged at Jungkook’s boxers as well, now leaving them both naked to the eye.

Fuck, Jungkook had a nice ass.

After gulping at the view in front of him, Taehyung brought two fingers up to his mouth, coating them with his warm saliva before aligning them to the smaller’s hole.

Without thinking twice about it, the older’s digits pushed past the initial rim of muscle.

He began curl and uncurl his fingers inside of Kook, making scissoring motions as well.

“You like that?” Taehyung leaned in to breathe onto the nape of his neck, the squelching noises of his fingers now pumping in and out of Jungkook bouncing off the walls of the locker room.

Jungkook held his breath at first, his body tensing up, but as he felt the wet digits against his ass he took deep, slow breaths to relax. Slowly, as Tae thankfully worked him gently, his wet fingers warm and thick, it wasn't uncomfortable. He wasn't unfamiliar with the sensation of fingers, as he's done it to himself countless of times, but Taehyung's fingers were larger, and with the obvious fact that they weren’t his own, they reached so much farther than his own ever could. Jungkook pressed his cheek against the cold surface of the locker, whispering out 'yes' to the question thrown at him, lips fallen apart as he no longer can remain silent, a sudden high pitched whimper rolling off his lips when Tae reached a certain spot inside of him. Jungkook was surprised by himself, not aware he could even make such a lewd noise.

As a response to Jungkook’s unexpected whimper, Taehyung’s fingers only worked faster than before. He pressed them further into him, wanting to reach Kook’s deepest places in hopes of hearing more of his moans.

The younger was so fucking tight; his cock couldn’t wait to get a taste of it.

After a few more minutes of Taehyung stretching him out, adding in an extra finger or two.. massaging Jungkook’s warm walls, he decided it was time to climb up the ladder.

Without any proper lube in sight, Tae opted for spitting onto the palm of his hand before beginning to jerk himself off, wanting to ensure all of his length was covered.

Taehyung might hate Jungkook’s guts, but he didn’t wish to hurt him.

Resting one hand on the younger’s shoulder, Tae used the other to direct his throbbing cock into the smaller’s entrance.

He could only get the tip in at first, as Kook was that tight.

“Shit.” The boy cursed, having to re-align himself before using some force to hopefully fit all of the remaining inches.

“A-ah.. fuck yeah..” Taehyung breathed out, biting down on his lip as he gradually planted himself deeper into the younger.

This felt.. new.

He was overtaken by a sudden blanket of warmth as he slowly began to move his hips, sinking his nails into Jungkook’s shoulder.

''Oh my g-- f-fuuck....'' Jungkook cried out as Taehyung moved inside of him, the feeling so overwhelming, he felt so full. His hands curled into fists against the locker, the urge to almost punch into the metal surface because he didn't know what to do with every feeling that was overtaking him. It hurt a little, and the whines he makes were a mix of pain and pleasure, but with every slow stroke against his insides, the pleasure overtook the pain, and his breathing turned into needy, shallow gasps.

When seeing Jungkook begin to visibly relax in front of him, the older’s thrusting gradually increased in speed. The hand that wasn’t holding onto Kook’s shoulder sneaked it’s way to the latter’s heaving chest, freely roaming around the soft skin before stopping at its desired destination.

With a harsh slap of Taehyung’s pelvis on Jungkook’s cheeks, the sound of their skin clashing against one another became more audible as Tae picked up his harshness. 

“So tight..”

He hastily licked over his index finger before placing it back on the other’s nipple, multitasking while quickly flicking the perky bud and ramming into Jungkook’s hole.

Tae found himself holding back a bit, not using all of his strength just yet. 

Just from the way the younger’s body had reacted to his fingers, Taehyung could tell this was new for Jungkook as well.

“So fucking good,” He hissed, hiding his sweaty face in the crook of the smaller’s neck whilst continuing to pound him from the back.

Jungkook's moans gradually became louder and breathier with every few thrusts, his hips starting to move on their own to meet Taehyung's advancing hips, sweat dripping from his face down his neck, his dark curls clinging to his skin, ''T-taehyu--ung..'' He cried out, glancing down to see the sinful sight of his nipple being played with, then down to his untouched cock, swollen and needy for friction. But even if he didn't receive any attention on there, he feels like he could still cum from the way his insides were abused either way, and it was an amazing feeling, he never wanted it to end, ''H-harder, harder, please...s-shit...'' His words were barely coherent, his voice higher in pitch, his legs starting to shake in bliss.

“Harder, huh?”

He repeatedly rubbed against Jungkook’s prostate, not sparing the latter any mercy as Taehyung began to unwind; he was letting down his defenses.

If Kook was ready for more, then he was going to give it to him.

The taller’s broad chest heaved from exhaustion, but he pushed through it nonetheless.

He wanted to catch a glimpse of Jungkook’s expression as he came, knowing it was bound to come soon.

Taehyung’s hand traveled down to the dip in the other’s back, pressing down on it so that Kook’s ass could press further against him. 

The taller took notice of how Jungkook’s peach had taken on the color red, the corner of his lip inching upwards proudly.

“Ah.. fuuck,” Taehyung cursed out, feeling a familiar pooling of warmth begin to settle in his lower stomach the more his hips snapped against Kook.

Jungkook turned his head to the side, leaning his cheek against his arms that now served as protection from having his head repeatedly jolting against the lockers. His knees were growing weak, but it got easier when he had his back arched, however it changed the way Tae's cock was angled, and he felt himself being brought closer to the edge with every snap of their hips. His cock was desperate, aching and dripping with precum, it was more than ready to explode. When he couldn't take it anymore, he reached down with one of his hands to squeeze his shaft firmly, easing the painful aching by just a tad bit, ''I'm g-gonna.... '' His voice cracked into a sob, being so on edge but not quite able to get over the hurdle just yet was such a powerful feeling.

Taehyung’s cock snapped harder and deeper into Jungkook, feeling his energy falter, his thrusts lazy and out of rhythm.

The taller was close to his peak, and it was clear by the way his eyebrows were pinched together, lips slightly agape as heavy puffs of air slipped past them. 

Every inch of Taehyung’s body was enjoying this.

“Are you..?” Before he was given the chance to finish his question, Kook’s broken voice was his answer.

Wanting to drive the both of them to ejaculation, Taehyung didn’t hold himself back. Not one bit.

After many curses, grunts, and moans later, the older’s cock twitched inside of Jungkook like a volcano before breaking loose, some of his cum seen trickling down the boy’s entrance.

“Fuck..” Tae whispered, having trouble regaining his breath.

Still panting, Taehyung pulled himself out of Jungkook before leaning his sweaty back against one of the lockers, thankful for the cool touch on his skin.

Jungkook came hard, his insides filled with cum and the floor beneath him stained with a pool of his own flowed, his cock twitching heavily in his hand as he jerks himself dry, a loud, drawn out cry echoing in the room. His voice was hoarse from all the moaning. Jungkook gasped quietly, breaths shallow and quick when he feels Tae withdraw himself, pulling out from his ass. The wet, thick sensation of Tae's seed dribbles down on the back of his thigh, and he could no longer hold his body up as he dropped to his knees within the mess of their cum, holding on to the bench. He didn't dare to look back, not yet. The way he had acted, and spoken was completely new. He didn't know how much he enjoyed being the subsmissive in this scenario, and now it'd just be another thing Taehyung would bully him for. Unless... Maybe, this was a changing point. Jungkook glanced back at the taller man, still working on catching his breath.

The second Taehyung had been caught sneaking a glimpse towards Jungkook’s direction, he quickly snapped his head the other way, jaw clenched.

“Uh, I um..” He didn’t know where to begin. 

Should he begin at the kiss they shared on the dirty gymnasium floor?

..At the way he nipped at Jungkook’s skin?

When he toyed with the younger’s nipples..?

Just where the hell should he start?

“I’m gonna go.” Taehyung cleared his throat, not sparing the other another glance, suddenly feeling disgusted with what he’d done.

He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing back the strands that once stuck to his forehead when he began to dress himself, not wanting to spend another second naked in front of him..

‘What the fuck did I do?’ 

Taehyung repeated to himself, his back facing Jungkook as he struggled to make sense of his actions.

Without another word, he left Kook in the empty locker room, eyes trained ahead as Tae only had one motive: To get the fuck out of there.

Jungkook quietly watched as Tae left him, naked and alone in the locker room. He felt disgusting, used. On wobbly legs, he got up, groaning quietly at the wetness between his cheeks. He decided to take a quick shower, using the one by the locker room, turning the heat up so high that steam filled the room, letting the water boil at his skin, ''Fuck...'' He hissed, still unable to focus as all his mind keeps going back to, is the way Taehyung sounded while ramming into him, the rough but delicate ministrations of his hips, ''Get out of my head.. Fucker, fucker..'' Jungkook turned the water ice cold, numbing himself from thinking, freezing seemed to help better. After a long while, he got out, dried himself and got dressed in his normal clothes, packing his basketball outfit into the backpack he'd brought and exited the locker room. How was he ever gonna face Tae again? Were they a thing? Did they still hate eachother? Jungkook himself wasn't sure, but he never did hate him. He needed to find this out eventually, or it'd gnaw at his mind.

When Taehyung made his way to the school’s parking lot— about to angrily throw his backpack onto the backseat of his crappy car, he was met by Namjoon as he pulled up into the spot next to him.

“Yo, Taehyung!” Joon’s voice rang, stepping out of his car when he was met by a harsh welcome.

“Listen, if you’re gonna continue to bitch at me about this morning, I’m not in the fucking mood, alright? I already stayed after to practice.”

The younger drifted off, failing to catch the look of confusion attached to Namjoon’s face as he focused on remaining his cool, hands unconsciously balled up into fists at his sides.

“Tae.. I was just gonna say hey?”

The older’s brows furrowed, internally questioning why Taehyung’s panties were in such a twist.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?”

Namjoon crossed his arms over his chest, “You okay?”

He hoped that if he asked enough questions, it would be enough for Taehyung to give in.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” 

Apparently Joon forgot he was talking to the Kim Taehyung, he should’ve never expected Tae to open up to him.

The only time the younger actually told him something somewhat personal was in fourth grade, when he admitted he, “needed to go poop.”

Not believing him for one second, Namjoon struggled to drop the subject. But, he noticed how much Taehyung looked like he wanted to get out of there, so he let it go.

“Well.. fine. Just know you can always talk to me, alright?” Joon said as he watched him get in his car, meeting Taehyung’s dimmed eyes for a split second before the latter drove away, far too fast for a school zone.

With a sigh, Namjoon brushed off their encounter for the moment being and made his way into the familiar doors. He’d forgotten his basketball uniform in his locker, and it was safe to say, it was time for a deep cleaning.

Just as he was about to make his way downstairs, he took notice of Jungkook.

“Kook!” He called out, waiting to meet him at the top.

“What are you doing here?” Namjoon didn’t fail to notice Jungkook’s small limp, hesitating whether or not to ask him about it.

“I saw Tae leaving as well, he was pissed off— wait a minute,” The Captain’s eyes widened, “you guys didn’t get into a fight, right? Is that why you’re limping?”

Nine times out of ten, Joon was the one who broke off their stupid arguments. It wouldn’t surprise him if things had actually gotten out of hand this time around.

Jungkook tensed, looking up at Namjoon with surprise. He quickly straightened his posture, ''Hi, I uh...'' He's never been a good liar, but he knows he couldn't tell anybody about this. Could he? Should he? No fucking way, Taehyung would literally strangle him to death. Jungkook's eyes flickered between Namjoon's before nodding hurriedly, ''Yeah, we got into a fight, it was nothing,'' He bounced on his leg a little, gritting his teeth to endure the small pain jolting through him, pretending his body is fine, ''I'm fine. I uh, I have to go now, so.. '' He shifted his weight between his feet, muscles in his legs aching as he just wanted to get away, starting to walk past Namjoon as he grips the strap of his backpack harder.

Namjoon let out one of his ‘shocked, but not surprised’ sighs, “Just ignore each other, how hard can it be?”

He mumbled, rubbing at his temples in utter frustration.

Joon wanted to say more, but Jungkook insisted he had to go.

So, he pressed his lips together, knowing he tended to overstep in people’s personal problems. It was a little flaw of his, but really he just wanted to help.

“Alright well.. see you tomorrow.” Namjoon waved the younger off, waiting until Kook was out of sight to do all of his pondering.

With a light shrug of his shoulders, Namjoon stayed put for one more second before making his way downstairs.

He just needed to remind himself to talk to Taehyung and Jungkook tomorrow morning, more like scold them.

Joon couldn’t have two of his best players take their anger out on each other, not when a big game was near.

Plus, they were his friends, so part of him worried about their own safety.

Jungkook was exhausted, and he had no car, so he sighed loudly as he opted to simply walk towards his place. It wasn't terribly far, but a good 20 minute walk. Actually, with a limp, make it 30...

As he finally made it home, he threw the backpack on the floor, and laid down on his stomach on the bed with a grunt. He had no energy left, but yet his mind went on to think about Taehyung. Where was he now? What was he up to? Did he think about him too? What the fuck is going to happen from now on... 

Namjoon on the other hand, had gone through the lockers to grab his forgotten clothes, but also making sure nobody forgot anything. As he made his way towards the door to get out of there, he almost slipped, catching himself last second, ''What the hell..''

Joon looked down on his feet, a sticky mess stuck to the sole of his shoe, smeared along the floor in a small puddle. He crouched down, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. He took off his shoe to wash it, and before putting it under the tap water he smelled it and scrunched his nose, making a face, ''What the fuck is thi-'' His eyes widen when he realized exactly what it is, it's fucking cum. He washes it off, luckily he's got a very strong stomach, not easily disgusted by the liquid itself. However, he was wondering why the hell it was there in the first place. He pondered for a long while as he cleaned it up, being the way he is, and took his things and started leaving. His mind would rewind to when he met Taehyung earlier, he had just left the practice hall... Just moments before Jungkook, ''No way...''

He countered himself, but before he knew it, he had connected the dots for a possible scenario. So, Taehyung did not want to talk about something he was upset over, and Jungkook was limping, obviously in a hurry to leave... And then there was cum on the floor. Namjoon felt dizzy, rubbing his neck as he blinked several times, ''So they weren't fighting?''

Taehyung dreaded going home; he despised stepping into an environment that, in fact, didn’t feel like home at all. But, the more he drove further away from the school, the anger in his mind not having quite evaporated into nothingness yet, Tae figured ‘home’ was his only option.

He just prayed his deadbeat of a father wasn’t there, or if he was, that he wasn’t drowning his liver with one alcoholic beverage after the other.

It was a long shot, but the boy could hope.

After countless road rage moments later, Taehyung managed to pull up to his driveway without a single scratch.

Considering what happened last time, this was great news. 

That reminded Tae, he needed to get his left view mirror replaced. It’s been a couple of days that he’d driven without it.

His heartbeat began to pound wildly against his ribcage after stepping foot into the medium-sized house, asking himself if he was the only one home. 

Well, Taehyung guessed there was only one way to find out. Shutting the door behind him and carelessly letting his bag drop to the ground, the latter’s sharp eyes carefully raked around the living room, glad to see it was left untouched.

Then, for the biggest test of all, he opened up the refrigerator door.

Yes. The pack of beers were still in tact.

Without thinking twice about it, Taehyung reached for a bottle. He /needed/ some alcohol, having grown tired of thinking too much into things. Maybe this way he’ll learn to loosen up, his head hurt like a bitch.

For the remaining of time, Tae spent it up in his room, mindlessly browsing through his social media while occasionally downing the cold beer in his hand. 

Sooner than he expected, the day’s light no longer peaked through the curtain cracks, and Taehyung couldn’t tell if it was because of the light alcohol in his system, or his inner fear of what could happen, but his finger found itself hovering above Jungkook’s contact.

Being a part of the basketball team, everyone was told to exchange numbers on the first day. 

Namjoon made him and Kook cooperate, and now Taehyung might actually have an excuse to use it.

[Taehyung]: JK, don’t tell anyone about what happened, got it?...Use some panthenol on your butt, I read somewhere it should help with the pain or whatever.

Taehyung hesitated whether or not to include the last part, but he couldn’t be bothered to question himself anymore, so he pressed ‘send’.

Jungkook was laying in his bed when the phone chimed, groaning lightly as he stretched out to reach for the device laying on the floor next to his bed. When he saw the contact name, he coughed as he almost choked on his own breath, and out of reflex he threw the phone across the room, “Oh fuck...” 

He was anxious, not knowing what this text would contain. It could be anything! What if he told him to never fucking come back to practice? Or that he’s going to kill him!... or.. something else?

Jungkook sighed as he got up off the bed, slowly walking over to fish his phone back into his hands that were shaking as he unlocked the screen. 

“Don’t tell anyone about what happened...” he read it out loud to himself, and he felt like his chest tightened. Of course he’d say that. But, he didn’t say it couldn’t happen again.. he didn’t say to fuck off out of his life forever.

He read the ending of the text and almost felt like his lips were twitching into a dumb smile, because it was so unlike Taehyung to sound like he almost cared about him. Or at least his ass.

Jungkook hovered over the texting pad before he started to tap at the screen, 

[JK]: Got it. But you didn’t say we should stop.. p.s thx for the butt tip.

Jungkook cringed at his own text, but was too tired at this point to overthink it as he tapped the send button. He had to know, or his soul would disintegrate. He already wanted more, and he hated himself for it. Why would he fall in love with the most emotionally blocked person on earth! Jungkook sighed with a frustrated groan following before throwing his head into a pillow to scream out his overwhelming feelings.

With a towel loosely wrapped around his waist, and toothbrush still in his mouth, Taehyung had just gotten out of the shower when he heard his phone’s familiar chime on the bedside table. Unable to put off his curiosity for after he was done getting ready for bed, Tae carelessly jumped onto his mattress, reaching over for the device before taking a look at who it was.

‘JK’

He felt that all knowing sensation of tightness in his chest, anxiety piercing through his veins. But, deciding that he wasn’t a pussy, Taehyung quickly tapped on the younger’s message.

After reading over it multiple times, he found himself still at a loss for words.

Honestly, Taehyung didn’t know what kind of response he was expecting from Jungkook.

Perhaps something like, ‘Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone, let’s forget about it.’ 

That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.

But what he didn’t expect to read was what he received, and his body language proved that. His shoulders were tense, and his jaw was locked in place.

Tae ran a hand through his damp hair, repeating Kook’s words in his head.

‘But you didn’t say we should stop..’

What the fuck kind of dumbassery was that? And why wasn’t Taehyung opposed to the idea of it?

..Why couldn’t he stop thinking about it ever since he got home?

It got to the point where every time he looked down at his dick, he would be reminded of Jungkook.

God, his whimpers..

Taehyung was definitely out of it, surely the beer had something to do with it.

“Fuck.” He groaned out loud, closing his eyes for a moment. 

He should just forget about it, pretend it never happened..

But something told him that was easier said than done.

Throwing his phone to the side, Taehyung decided he’d thought enough for one day, mind starting to blank every few seconds because of it.

He needed to sleep it off, and hopefully by tomorrow morning, everything would just blow off.

Shit, he was already dreading having to face Jungkook at practice, but it was a given.

Jungkook kept glancing over at his phone from time to time, sighing when he realizes that Tae wasn't going to answer him. He wasn't surprised though, why would he? This was a lot, he should've just said something else, anything, that wasn't putting their entire dynamic on the table. But he had to do it. He couldn't not do it... After a while, Jungkook's eyes felt heavy, burying his face into his pillow until he fell asleep, still replaying the way Tae's skin felt on his.

A/N: Surprise! This is part one of a series co-written with @velvetwicebang​, (whom also made the banner!) this is a DM rp we’ve had going on for a while and I really wanted to share it(and keep it for myself to re read) because their writing is just too amazing!

Also, this is NOT Yandere! This is vastly different from my other content, but I hope many of you will love it either way.

© sombreboy 2020. Do not repost, edit or translate.

[spc4eva]

Morning Wind: Life Debt

Another brief chapter in the continuation of a preface between two bounty hunters. Please enjoy. I had a lot of fun writing out thoughts and imagery. After this chapter, the story will be a bit more linear to the seasons and include more conversation/action. I wanted to make certain there was enough preface between the two bounty hunters before just tossing it all to the main storyline.

Word Count: 2,674

Rating: T

Cross posted on AO3 & Fanfic.net

"Mando. I owe you one."

 On the frozen surface of Hoth, he heard words from a stranger he never expected. Bounty hunting was a lucrative business and others rarely played nice. Killing other hunters was frowned upon, but that didn't mean it wasn't a common occurrence, especially for him. Other hunters would get in the way or attempt to swoop in like a ravenous carrion picking a corpse while the predator still gnawed at it. Din Djarin had killed plenty of other hunters that had gotten in his way, but this time is was different.

He had noticed the Ronin a few times before this and partially because Karga seethed about them, comparing Mandalorian to Jakonan. Blood red robes accented by ash and gold, hidden beneath a mask frozen in a snarl. Naturally, as predators did, they steered clear of one another. There was no business to be had with the samurai and he wasn't the type to begin small talk over the fabled Tamahagane sword the Ronin wore, just as the figure respected his own inclinations and the beskar he donned. Still, he duly noted that the Ronin had the highest stakes in the bounty game when compared to him, the only other predator strong enough to take multiple pucks at once and turn them over in the curt deadlines that Karga insisted on dealing.

 Despite Din's lack of knowledge of the Ronin, he could respect the hunter's prowess and was gracious that they'd never needed to cross paths until this point.

 That was until Karga duped them both, dealing dual pucks for the same elusive bounty.

 Hoth was a wasteland decorated in a beautiful sheathe of pristine white, gilding the desert with a blanket of purity, constantly being turned over by the shrieking tundra winds. Wailing like a banshee, footprints quickly eroded on the snow dusted surface of thick ice, rarely having melted more than an inch or two within the last few centuries.  Despite the inhospitable hell that Hoth was, creatures still found a way to survive in the glimmering ice encrusted mountains and caverns.

 Half the battle of finding a bounty here was the environment, the plummeting temperatures, and fauna in desperate search of its next meal. The other half was following a cold trail before the screeching wind erased it. Tracking fobs only worked within a certain proximity of the bounty, so establishing an area to search within the white fingers tried to pry past his visor, choke underneath his flak suit, and strip at his offensive durasteel like a rabid lover.

 Finding the correct cave had been the least of his worries. Aside from the fading mint of large boots, a second set was more innocuously hidden, utilizing the original prints to mask their own. However, he was able to discern the soft bite of a toe, the second individual's foot considerably smaller than the bounty's. His quarry was already being hunted and that hastened his pace, unwilling to part with the high payment, nor the irritation of losing out to another hunter. He was the best at his trade and some upstart hunter wasn't going to circumvent him by being light on their toes and a few paces ahead of him.

 Crunching through the permafrost, each step grinding ice into snow, he ducked into the cavern, the wailing wind subsiding within the shelter of the stone walls. Despite the coverage, inside was just as frozen and frigid. Stalactites and stalagmites were encased in cloak of ice, chomping down to create the image of a throat of magnificent diamond teeth of a beast, illuminated only by a fallen torchlight.

 A guttural roar echoed deep within, rattling the icicles and setting his teeth on end as his blood began to pulse in his ears. Before him was a detailed story of what had happened, written in the language of footprints in the frost. One had entered, another had followed. Deeper, the story continued until a set, thrice the size of either original paces, joined the ballad. Droplets of crimson blossomed like poppies in the scant grey light of the cavern, brightened by his own light as he frowned deeply, grazing over gouged stone where claws had shorn rock. Another glance at the enormous paw prints reminded him that Hoth possessed rather terrible fauna and he had an idea of what the quarry and hunter before him had encountered.

 Drawing his pulse rifle, he glided forward, carefully rolling heel to toe to mask all the noise he made. Stealthily, stealing into the darkening depths of the unknown, he swapped the safety off and kept his finger ready by the trigger. Scarlet flowers of blood lined the path, tiny little buds winking freshly, indicating that they'd only bloomed recently. Movement made him jerk instinctively, leveling the rifle as an ashen cloak fluttered like a raven's wing and a silhouette danced away from a hulking, behemouth shag carpet of ivory. His visor caught the glint of the Tamahagane blade first, striking the light of his torch and throwing crackling stripes of pearl where the steel was lanced with lightning-like folds.

 The Ronin.

 Fleeing from the Wampa, the samurai treaded lightly, gliding elegantly as the robes beneath the fold of their cloak whipped. Din observed from his perch up toward the incline of the cavern, eyes raking over the yeti and then to the Jakonan. He doubted that such a hunter, rumored to be on equal grounds with himself, required assistance. Eyes narrowing, the Ronin swiped their sword down, air whistling where the blade passed and kept the Wampa at bay from tackling them. Then he saw it, the slick liquid trailing down from the hilt of the blade, over the guard, and dripping against the charcoal steel. Whatever trauma was there, it was hidden beneath the wide brim of the kimono sleeve, whispering only in the form of ruby liquid dripping and staining a wake where it trailed.

 The Ronin had been injured, hefting the long curved katana as they back themselves into a corner without realizing. Remembering the story in the dust, Din realized that the Ronin had not anticipated crossing the Wampa and had been ambushed, the wound a telltale sign that the yeti had gotten the better of them if only for the briefest of moments. The fact  they were still alive was a testament for their speed and agility, but such luck was running thin and the Ronin seemed aware of this. Drawing a second blade, the Ronin turned it toward themselves, poising it over their heart, more willing to commit suicide than be ripped apart by the monster.

 Din raised his pulse rifle and fired.

 Crashing and echoing like the mighty smash of cymbals, the shot took the Wampa on the side of the heat, incinerating the skull and causing it to collapse in a white mound just ten feet from the Ronin. The blade clattered from the Ronin's hand, head whipping up to leer at him from behind a snarling countenance, pausing as they shuddered and reached over to grip their wounded arm, an attempt to staunch the flow of blood that had led Din to them like a trail of crumbs.

 "Mando," the gravelly, demonically modulated voice had rarely been leveled his way. In fact, this might have been the first time they had officially spoke other than a few muttered words that their vocoders never properly translated.

 Shouldering his rifle, his T visor listed down to meet the darkened pits of black sit into the wolf's face. "Ronin." A silent stalemate, leering between two hunters, and the obvious predicament they were both in. Perhaps not so much Din, as he was uninjured and had the comfort of two dozen feet between him and the swordsman. And yet, he drank his fill of the bottomless abyss of the Ronin's mask and wondered what the creature behind it was thinking.

 "The bounty is hiding deeper in the caves," Ronin informed him eventually, sheathing their sword and glancing over to their injury still obscured by the copious amount of fabric that they somehow moved as if made of wind when the samurai stirred. "It would seem Karga gave both of us the same puck." No suggestions were made, just a plain statement that this might have been a setup to see which hunter would return victorious and if their counterpart would ever step within the cantina on Nevarro. A petty game on Karga's part.

 "It would seem," Din agreed solemnly.

 Another terse quiet slipped over the caverns, interrupted only by the heavy mouth breathing of the Ronin who appeared to be more gravely wounded than they were letting on. "Mando. I owe you one," they proclaimed, bending down to pick up the fallen dirk, sliding it into the plethora of multicolored obi sashed wrapped around their waist. "The bounty is yours, but-" Ronin fell to their knees, not out of faintness or blood loss, but in a respectful manner. The rim of the ashen rice hat tilting toward the ground as they pressed their uninjured arm over their heart. "I owe you a blood debt. Had you not shot the beast, I would be dead."

 The legacy of Jakonan honor was not a matter to be taken lightly. He knew enough of their culture to be aware that any debts incurred were always paid in full. Saving the Ronin and expecting payment aside from the quarry, had not been his intention. However, in the few moments whilst he stood there regarding the cloaked silhouetted, he realized the debt he'd carved for the samurai.

"The bounty is payment enough," Din shifted uncomfortably, disliking the idea of being owed such a favor. He didn't need help, nor any indentured servitude from the Jakonan. What he had done was purely to create a means for an end. The Wampa needed to die regardless and letting it kill the Ronin did nothing but cost the galaxy the skill of another veteran bounty hunter. While they were not friends, he had passed the Ronin in the cantina for nearly 8 years now and they were the only hunter not to press his patience.

 "A debt is owed," the Ronin repeated, the gravel in their voice softening and becoming disconcertingly soft compared to the imposing swordsman Din had warily watched from a distance. "And it may be paid in any manner which you see fit. Now or in the future."

 He spared no other words to the Ronin as he stalked by, continuing to eye the figure as he slipped by, wondering if the samurai would ambush him while preoccupied with the bounty. However, upon returning with the wilting quarry in tow, the Ronin had departed, making well on their relinquishment of the bounty and leaving behind a few more droplets of blood. Despite how ominous the Ronin had always seemed, they could bleed.

 "Did you offer the Ronin the same quarry?" Din asked tersely, leering down at Karga as he spoke of a Client in need of very particular and talented help. Two years had passed since his encounter with the samurai on Hoth, the snarling wolf's mask tilting toward him questioningly when they did manage to cross paths, a debt not forgotten. He had no intentions of ever making good on what the Jakonan felt they owed him. It had been a job and the Wampa was in his way.

 "Ronin isn't interested. Fellow's got a list of jobs he won't take and this one falls under that category. Real shame, would've liked to see you beat him at his own game again," Karga yawned, glancing at his nails in disinterest over the finger details of why his other premier bounty hunter wasn't willing to take the job. This should have been an obnoxious red flag to Din, but instead a pang of relief echoed in his chest, glad that he wouldn't be crossing the swordsman again. Apparently, Ronin had given Karga an earful about passing the same fobs between them and had set boundaries that Din didn't care to discuss.

 As far as Karga was concerned, Din had beaten Ronin to the punch with the quarry on Hoth. The disgruntled magistrate was unaware that the Ronin had been paces ahead of him and had their roles been reversed, it might've been Din getting his durasteel crushed in by the Wampa in place of the Jakonan. Most of the other hunters in the Guild were under the assumption that there was a bitter rivalry between the two of them. Ironically, they couldn't have been more incorrect. Both warriors kept their distance and respected each other's abilities. There was an unspoken line neither crossed and until Karga had decided to play his games, no necessary requirement for either to interact.

 Despite the masks they both wore, the modulated voices, and the predatory prowess both of them moved in, the Ronin was different. On many afternoons, Din had entered the cantina to find the Ronin sitting at tables playing sabacc and conversing gently to other hunters. Despite the metallic and earthen tone the demonic mempo spoke with, there was something rather quiet and soft spoken about the samurai. He supposed that was why the majority of the hunters in the Guild preferred the Ronin to him. Din did not spend any longer within the grimy cantina than required, ferrying himself out to the next job unlike Ronin who tended to loiter and collect stories.

 It had taken Din the better part of three years to glean why Ronin did this.

 Despite being quietly charismatic, the Ronin did nothing without a reason. Subjecting themselves to the teasing of other hunters, to having to share a few stories of their own, it was minute payment in exchange for the tales and information other hunters adored vomiting up. Most bounty hunters, while guarded, loved to brag about their endeavors. While Din ignored his competition, the Ronin got to know them when they were least suspecting, over a hand of cards and with a few drinks in their system. Not once had Din ever noticed a drink in front of the samurai.

 The Jakonan was playing them like they played sabacc, gleaning the intentions and ambitions of any hunter that stepped foot on Nevarro. Had Din the patience or social skills, he might have entertained the idea of making a futile attempt to commit the copious amount of time and credits that the samurai did.  Though his patience had waned long ago and Din did not gamble. Despite this, the Ronin's intellect was not lost on him and he respected his adversary - who, until Hoth, had never failed bringing in a quarry.

 Not until the fated day that he had donned a suit of full beskar did Din ever contemplate speaking to the Ronin about the incurred debt. Only when he sat up in his cockpit, staring forlornly through the observation shield with a silver orb rolling in his gloved palm, did he notice the flapping of the crimson kimono as the hunter trotted toward their own small starship to depart on a mission, did he consider it. Aside from his Tribe, he rarely put weight into the words and promises of others. Carrying him as if his legs were wind, he was outside his ship and following in the wake of the sandal imprints the samurai had left in the sand, peppered with ash.

 "Ronin!" he called brusquely, the figure freezing, slowly craning to glance at him with the bottomless eyes, tusks peeled back in a menacing snarl. A palm rested calmly on the hilt of their katana, a gesture he'd noticed was natural rather than defensive. "Your debt."

 The wind danced across the space-port, kicking up a haze of dust and ozone from the sulfuric lava flats less than a kilometer away. Neither figure felt it, their respective masks filtering the haze. A questionable tilt declined their hat and Din knew what it was they were wondering, without voicing it outwardly.

 "I require payment."

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Is The Breakup done? Or might we get more? (Please?)

The Breakup is, I’m afraid, complete for now. 

But have a new one instead

Deep Within The Darkness Peering: Part i: Chapter One:

Tension hung thick in the air like an acrid mist, clearing the A&E waiting room slowly as the crowds of waiting patients dissipated in an eerie calm. Silence, an odd ebb in the usual rush, filled the large room as a group of nurses waited expectantly by the closed front doors of the hospital. It was a rare occurrence, the ringing of the blue phone, but one that made the whole place still when its shrill tone echoed along the corridors.

“Do ye think it’ll be someone dangerous?” Someone whispered from within the group, the breathy tone making it almost impossible to discern who’d voiced the question.

The group, small and made up of recently qualified and transferred nurses, all looked at one another, their glances a mixture of worried and intrigued. In the centre of the busy hub of the nurses station, the innocuous phone sat - hardly ringing - a dark contrast to the red emergency phone that was never silent. It was the central line from the city’s prison to the hospital and signalled the arrival of one of the inmates. Usually, minor injuries could be treated by the onsite doctors and it was rare for anyone to need external support. Which made it all the more interesting when it did ring.

“Beauchamp!” With the secondary waiting room devoid of life, the doctors’ voice rang out clearer than usual, making the collection of nurses jump and turn as if in tune with one another.

Claire raised her hand, timid at first until her confidence renewed and she felt more able to identify herself from the rest.

“It says in your file that you’ve a background in trauma? You published a paper, yes?” He was clear, his tone steady and sure. He already knew about her pre-med training but was clarifying the fact loudly as if to assert himself, making his decision seem solid to the rest of the staff.

She nodded, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Yes, doctor. I did.”

“Then you’ll assist on this one. It’s tricky, be prepared. Have you ever seen a transported patient before?”

“No, I haven’t…”

“They, depending on the severity of their offence and their priors, come with a swarm of guards. These tend to get in the way- it being their job,” he continued talking as he turned away from the room, expecting Claire to follow in his footsteps and not waiting or turning back to see if she’d done as he’d assumed she would, “not to allow their charge to make a bid for freedom whilst they’re here recovering. That means they have the opportunity to get in the way. Be forceful with them. They won’t be offended by you being brusque, in fact they probably prefer it that way. In return, if they’re not in the way, you’ll ignore them...studiously. We have a job to do, no matter the crime, he’s being punished for that. We don’t judge, just heal, that alright?”

“Yes, doctor.” She said again, convinced that her interest had been piqued too much to be interested in judging the man - rather, she just wished to collect as much experience as possible and this was a step in the right direction.

As they turned the corner, a flurry of activity caught her eye and it quickly became clear that the original code had been a false positive. A ruse designed to draw attention away from the real entrance of the affected prisoner.

“Ready, nurse?” Another colleague asked, appearing with her hands coated in foam from the sink.

“As I’ll ever be.” She returned, smiling courteously as she began scrubbing in.

Once cleaned and redressed, she stood quietly with the rest of the team as they waited for the head of surgery to arrive. The mask covering her face made it far more difficult to breathe than during her initial training and residency, and she had to hold her hands together in front of her to stem the shaking. It wasn’t the task that was causing this initial panic, but the build up. The calm before the storm which allowed silly niggles to escalate doubts within her mind.

But as the door slammed open and the prostrate man surrounded by paramedics and prison guards entered, all non-medical thoughts cleared from her mind and she immediately stepped into the breach.

Noise levels rose as machines beeps vigorously and doctor began passing tools and hurling instructions and observations at one another. Swept away by pure instinct, Claire made sure she kept her ears open, her hands passing various pieces of intricate equipment and dabbing open wounds with cloth as her well-trained mind swung into action.

It was only afterwards, the swirl of chaos extinguished in the small OR, that she noticed his hand -limp and pale- chained to the bed. Her stomach rolled and she had to swallow back the bile as the heart rate monitor beeped, it’s anguished howl calmed for now by the sutures and stents inserted by the doctors and nurses.

With the procedure at an end, Claire couldn’t help but step back and look over at the young man lying in front of her. He couldn’t have been older than twenty-four, the bruising and excess swelling adding something darker to his otherwise friendly looking face. His high cheekbones were tinted red, the fresh flush of blood flowing freely beneath his skin as his body began to heal. He was handsome, in a rugged sort of way but even with the lofty presence of the cuffs and the guards standing silently around her, something niggled at her. He didn’t *look* like a dangerous criminal - although, of course, looks could be deceiving. Unable to quite put her finger on it, she stepped back, being careful not to knock into one of the accompanying wardens, took a deep breath and turned to free herself from the stagnant air gathering in the room.

He looked innocent, she told herself, muttering the word to herself as she joined her fellow nurses out in the wash room. Her uncle Lamb had often poked fun at her innate ability to discern individuals’ characteristics - it didn’t happen as often anymore, not like when she was a teenager - but every so often she’d get a glimpse into someone’s soul, their aura calling to her like a colourful ghost as she stood cautiously beside them. The prisoner had been in pain, that would’ve been obvious to even the most casual of layman’s, but there was something besides that. A more prominent pain, an anguish set apart from the physical element of his wounds. And beyond that, a sort of goodness that only inhabited the rarest of humans.

“Claire?” Nurse Fitzgibbons nudged her arm, bringing her back to the present as she shook off the thought and looked over at her boss. “Did ye hear? Yer to stay wi’ him, aye? Be close by and tend to him as he wakes. Doctor Bain says he’s no longer in danger but it’d make me feel happier if he were being closely monitored. Just dinna mention it to him directly.” She winked as she walked off, as if divulging a wee secret though they’d all been made painfully aware on their first day how truly irascible Bain was. Not a man to be crossed.

“Of course…” she returned, a thankful smile covering her face as she pulled the cap from her head, throwing it into the bin with the other discarded clothing, “...I’ll make sure he’s well tended to.”

-- --- --

Despite her usually busy schedule, Claire had managed to keep her promise to Glenna. Whilst taking her lunch break, she had snuck her sandwiches along with a small cup of tea into the suite, skirting the fatigued guards as they sat playing as many games of snap as they could.

On the first day she had read his chart. She knew most of the injuries, having seen them first hand in the OR; she had, however, learned his name and his age and part of her was almost brave enough to ask his entourage what he had been incarcerated for (they certainly seemed friendly enough) though, for now, she was happy to just put a name to the face.

James Fraser was just twenty-four. He had multiple lacerations to the back, sides and neck that had clearly been embedded into his flesh with something far more punishing than hands and feet -but nobody seemed to be talking abowere the level of brutality to which he’d been subjected. Her heart twinged at the thought and she developed a deeper affection for nurse Fitzgibbons who seemed to have silently realised that before anyone else.  His face had been swollen enough that one of his eyes wouldn’t have been open had he been conscious, his cheeks covered in mottled bruising.

On the second day she had taken some reading material to accompany her during her breaks. Continuing with her task, she read to herself at first, carrying her charity shop literary finds with her on her rounds before ducking in to sit for a while with young Mr Fraser. By the end of her working week she had taken to reading aloud much to the prison officers amusement.

“Do ye think Fraser can hear ye?” One had asked just as she’d gone to leave on the seventh day, just as her midweek weekend was about to begin.

Scratching her head she turned to glance at his much healed face. “He can hear, I’m sure of it.”

“How can ye tell?” The taller of the two men replied. “I used to read to my mam afore she passed. I hoped she could, but she never gave any signs that she did. It all felt a wee bit hopeless.”

It was the first hint at conversation any of the stationed guards had given making Claire late for clocking out as she placed her book back in her pocket and shrugged her shoulders. “He moves, shifts a little. And his mouth lifts as if he’s smiling. It’s happened a few times, but especially when I come to a funny part. His coma is induced though, and it’s light. He’s reacted more as the week has progressed so it gives me hope, it’s a sign that he’s fighting through the worst of it.”

The short, older of the guards scoffed, rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath before turning and walking away.

“I take it he isn’t fond of your charge?” She asked the remaining guard, the question she really wanted to ask burning holes into her tongue as she bit the inside of her mouth to stop herself from asking it.

Twisting to glance at his friend and colleague, he waited until he’d turned the corner to answer. “Nah, do you ken what he’s serving time for?”

Claire shook her head and took in a hefty gulp of air. Her heart was racing at a million miles per second, her palms sweating madly as she wiped them against the side of her scrubs.

“He assaulted a cop, someone close to him. Did a damn good job of it too, if you ask me. That’s how he came to such harm. Some of the guys, wrong as it may be, dinna take too kindly to prisoners who are guilty of hurting our own and although they don’t encourage inmate on inmate violence, they’re no’ exactly going to rush to their aid either.”

“What about you?” She asked, breathlessly, not knowing exactly what she was asking.

“Between you and me?” He returned, his voice lowering even further, waiting for her to signal her agreement before continuing. “The guy he’s supposed to have brought to harm isna a nice man, nor is he pleasant to work with. Not that he deserved it, o’ course, but on that alone I’m willing to suspend my own judgement on the poor guy. He’s serving his time, for better or for ill and I willna be a part of anything that sees any man left in this state.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.” Holding out her hand, she shook his firmly, passing him her pager number as she did so. “I’m Claire, Claire Beauchamp...and if anything happens whilst I’m away, or Doctor Bain comes back to bring him around, I’d be really grateful if you could give me a buzz, please?”

“Mackenzie,” he returned, placing the wee card in his top pocket and tapping it lightly as he smiled across at her, “Rupert to my friends. It’s lovely to meet ye, Claire. I’ll make sure I do.”

With that she waved a short goodbye and headed straight for the break room, her weary legs buckling as she pushed the heavy door and fell into the small space.

[antigenius]

A/n: DJJDNFM SECRET SANTA FIC PART 1 NSFW PART WILL COME LATER SINCE TUMBLR WONT LET ME FO THE KEEP READING THING- @bnhabadass I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS KSKFMFMF

I'm Better

Bakugou X reader X Todoroki

Warnings: slight cussing, makeout sesh?

“Hey, how do I look?”

The scarlet halter dress flowed gently behind you, red lace enunciating your figure beautifully. A crimson satin bow tied around your waist to draw some curves, paired with gold ear cuffs and white flats with a bit of a wedge, just to keep your posture straight. Your auburn dyed hair was done up with a cute holly scrunchie, matching with the golden holly bracelet you had gotten while impulse buying online. The only formal winter wear you had was a leather jacket though, so you just had to hope it would go well with everything.

Toru’s jaw dropped at the sight of you, not that you could see though.

“Noraaaa!!!” She gushed. “You look so prettyyy!!!!”

You laugh, smiling at her. “Thanks, you too. Now let’s go before Mina uses all her credit to give me missed calls.”

It was a frosty Christmas eve. The snowflakes were floating down, leaving a white carpet in its wake. It had been a while since you all graduated and went your separate ways. The girls did meet up every once and a while, but with all of you being pro-heroes, that once in a while slowly became once in a blue moon. You never really kept up with lots of the boys, exceptions being Sero as you both worked in the same hero company. Basically, you had all grown distant in person. You all talked in a group-chat though, and through that, someone suggested that you’d all meet up for Christmas. Cue Momo sending her address, Sato saying he’d bake, cheers from all students and Mineta quietly rejoicing from the thought of getting kissed by the girls under the mistletoe.

And so here you were, standing outside Momo’s mansion of a home. The lights were leaving you awe-struck and unable to move due to your nostalgic whiplash.

Also due to the fact that it was literally three degrees celsius outside and your feet were probably frozen to the ground.

Once you did get inside though, your jaw hung at the subtle, yet tasteful decorations inside her house. Holly was hung literally everywhere, and you had to make sure you weren’t standing underneath one or that Mineta wasn’t close by if you wanted to survive.

The party was actually quite fun. You were standing idly, talking to Tsuyu until you were suddenly tugged by the invisible force that is Toru.

“Wh-“

“They’re playing seven minutes in heaven!! C’mon!!”

You were led towards a misshapen circle, consisting of the bakusquad, parts of the dekusquad, Jiro, Momo and Ojiro, who was just spectating. Mineta had, thankfully, passed out from drinking too much eggnog. The rest of the class were more content playing cards someplace else or chatting than to contend in such childish games. You shrugged. You had just been drinking and chatting the whole night, some games and laughing would be fun right?

Well you weren’t wrong…

“Step up, step up!” Mina called, pink hair bouncing in excitement. “All of you playing seven minutes in heaven, put in a little something something for the boys to pick!”

As soon as she said that, she produced a cute satin number from behind her back, twirling it around her finger with a wink. Your cheeks warmed almost immediately. Ooookay, maybe not what you had in mind with fun, but with alcohol in your system, decent decisions were thrown out the window. You followed the rest of the girls to the bathroom so you could all deposit your undergarments into the cloth bag. Mina grinned.

“Thank you!~”

She then shook the bag vigorously, mixing the content inside like she was making a martini for James Bond himself. Once she was done, she opened the bag and mixed it around manually, just to make sure.

“Alright boys, take your pick!”

Bmp bmp, bmp bmp, bmp bmp, bmp bmp.

Your heart thrashed against your ribcage as you watched the boys plunge sightlessly for a lucky dip.

“Right, shall we go clockwise?”

… Guess it wasn’t such a bright idea to sit at the edge.

“Nora!~ Which of these lucky boys has got yours?” Mina asked with a tipsy giggle. You got up, looking at the boys who had the panties in their hands. When you found yours, you sucked a quick breath between your teeth, eyes slowly locking with the vermillion ones that stared you down. You could feel everyone’s gaze on you as you pointed at Bakugou. Oohs and whistles erupted from both sides as Mina grabbed the both of you by the collar.

“Alright lovebirds, into the closet you go!”

Before you could even react, the doors were closed behind you, muffling the chatter from the group. The closet was dark, you could hardly see your own nose, let alone see Bakugou. You were glad though, it meant he wouldn’t see your beetroot excuse of a face.

“You gonna make a move or what, slowpoke?”

His grunt made you blink out of your daze. Your next words tumbled out of your mouth pretty quickly, without really thinking.

“You actually want do this properly?”

He was silent, then he laughed, a barking laugh that only made you fear for your life more.

“I’m no wuss. Plus, I made a bet, and I’m not willing to lose it.”

You were about to ask what bet this was, but he had pushed you against the closet wall with a thud.

“This’ll be your best kiss yet.” You could faintly see him smirk in the pitch-black darkness. “So savour it, stretchy.”

With that, he smashed his lips onto yours, hot, silky tongues curling together like a messy tango. His hands roamed your figure, leaving you to writhe and whine under his touch.

“Kat… Suki…” You pant as he moves from your lips down to your neck, biting harshly, then soothing it with a couple licks and open kisses. His treatment was intoxicating, it took you everything not to just crumble under his touch. You run your fingers through his hair and grip tightly as he snakes his hands down your inner thigh…

“Time’s up guys!! Come on out!”

The door opened, bright light blinding you. The marks on your neck were as clear as day. Bakugou walked calmly back to his spot. You, on the other hand, were flushed. Face stained red, you sat back down, hiding your face in your hands.

“Wow… He really went for it, huh Nora?” Toru said as she examined the marks curiously. The statement only made your face grow redder.

“Hey stretchy,"

You look up from your embarrassment to be hit in the face by your panties. If you could feel anymore humiliated now, you’d probably just stay red forever.

The rest of the pairs made you calm down and laugh again though, joining in with the oohs and aahs, watching everyone come out of the closet all scruffy and roughed up. Mina waved the bag around again, eyes twinkling.

“Who’s up for another round?”

You were about to get up and just spectate, but Toru raised your hand for you.

“Hey!-“

“Come on Nora!! One more round!” She pleaded. “You probably won’t get Bakugou again, so it won’t be that embarrassing, right?”

You hesitate, then sigh, back hitting the couch wearily. Toru cheers, hugging you tightly while Mina announces the next round.

“Alright!!” She shakes the bag again. “Boys, it’s your turn to put in something for us girls to pick!”

Cue the boys putting in their boxers for Mina to mix up in the bag. The girls carefully felt around whilst you just kinda took one out. It was a Calvin Klein branded boxer, in simple black and white. You wondered whose it was, but you figured it was probably Denki’s or something. It was… Big though. Lewd thoughts scattered through your mind as you shook your head. There was no need for those thoughts! Not like you were gonna get laid anyway. You watched the pairs go in and out, the closet seeing much better days than this.

“Shouto, you’re up!” Mina was pretty much a firecracker at this point, hyper and bounding like an energetic puppy.

The bi-coloured male got up, walking towards the girls to find his boxers. He stopped dead at your figure, glancing at the undergarment in your hand. He didn’t seem miffed about that though.

“Nora, huh? Luckyyy!!” Mina shoved you once again into the darkness. “Don’t have too much fun you two!”

The pitch-black darkness encased you again, but you were already accustomed to the feeling, having done it once. You bit your lip, guess you had to do something, right? You felt a hand beneath your chin, tilting it up.

“I hope you can forgive me Nora.” His deep voice sending tingles down your spine. “I’m not too experienced when it comes to romance.”

His lips press gently against yours, stealing all the breath in your lungs. His touch was soft, unlike Bakugou's. He let his hands wander down to your ass, squeezing it softly and making you gasp. His hands were cold, making you shiver into his touch while your whole body felt hot and flustered. His swollen lips then suckled your neck, making you hold onto him firmly for support.

“Shouto, fuck…”

Your core was pulsing dully, arousal pooling at your legs. Almost too soon, the light shone upon the both of you as Mina opened the doors.

“Seven minutes are up guys!”

… Inexperienced your ass.

You sat back down, warm and bothered. You were not going to be able to concentrate or talk properly for the rest of the night, that was sure. The rest of the party went pretty good nonetheless, laughter and cheer prominent. You were enjoying your umpeenteenth glass of eggnog by yourself to cool down when you were suddenly grabbed by the arm.

“Don’t ask. Just follow.”

You gulped the remaining eggnog in your mouth while following Bakugou to a room far away from the other patrons of the party. It made you feel hot again, but you were more terrified than anything.

He led you in, locking the door behind him. Shouto was sitting on the bed, watching the two of you from since you walked in. The two stare at you.

“So, who’s better?”

…

…

…

… What?

“I’m sorry, come again?” You say, wondering if maybe you were just so drunk you couldn’t hear right.

“Who’s better?”

“At what?”

“Don’t play dumb stretchy.”

You blink. “I have literally no idea what you guys are talking about.”

Shouto pressed his lips together to try and suppress his laughter at how angry Bakugou was getting. “Yaoyorozu told us you liked the both of us in high school, so we decided to bet on who you’d like better.”

It took you a moment, then you felt your ears burn with shame. “A-ah… That.”

“So,” Shouto got up from his position and stood in front of you. He had grown taller since your first year together, towering over your figure, “who did you like best?”

Your mouth was dry, unable to speak.

Bakugou tsked. “Obviously it’s me.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Quit whining Half’n’half, just accept you lost.”

“When it’s so clear that I’ve won? Please.”

The two bickered as you softly mumble an answer. They stopped as soon as you spoke, looking at you.

“What did you say?”

“I… Can’t choose.” You screw your eyes shut. “I dunno, you were both good? A tie?”

The silence that hovered over the three of you was heavy. The air was so thick with tension that if you had a knife, you were certain that you could essentially cut out a piece of the air if you wanted to. After a few minutes passed, Shouto looked over to Bakugou, lips curling.

“Rematch?”

“It’s on.”

You gulp.

[shadowturtlesstuff]

Perfect Christmas

So I wasn’t going to do a Christmas fic because I just don’t like or celebrate Christmas but I have a fandom war on Instagram and it was Christmas themed so I did actually write a fic for it. Enjoy

~~~

It was Christmas again. Another year where Christmas had snuck up on feyre causing more panic than she needed. But at least this year the people she surrounded herself with loved her as much as she loved them.

It had been a long year, Tamlin had ruined her completely and feyre was still taking her time to heal. Her father had passed away, her eldest sister had created such a hated distance between them she didn’t think they could fix it. Not soon at least. At least Elain was happy with her new boyfriend, her soul mate, she claimed. Feyre was happy that both her sister and her friend had found each other. Lucien, even if he hadn’t helped her enough with Tamlin, deserves to live a happy life.

After Mor had found out about how bad Tamlin was treating her, she had stormed to his house and demanded answers. He played dumb which only meant more pain for feyre later when mor left. And when she did she got the worst beating he’d ever given her. He claimed it was out of love, that is taught her not to tell such lies. It left her more broken than ever. She was pale and thin, tired and lethargic. Painting seemed like a task that she couldn’t even think about anymore. Not only did she not paint or draw she didn’t even look and consider how things were made. It was all bare and pointless, just like her life seemed to be.

Yet she say with her new family, watching as they decorated the house. Mor had not only told her cousin, but she told all her friends. She’d met them all beforehand, but when mor and Rhys came back to Tamlin s house another time demanding feyre she couldn’t help but see the world again. Even if it was only a small portion. It had been a struggle to escape, rhysand had to keep Tamlin back as mor dragged her out of the apartment. But they had done it, had kept her away and kept her safe.

They even made her want to paint again.

After four months of them being in her life, she had gained weight, the bruises were gone and she smiled. Rhysand has taken the role of looking after her the most, his job being self employed. He made his own hours that were flexible for feyre as well. Day by day he made her smile. He brought her back. So when she was lucky enough to get him for secret Santa this year she knew what his gift would be.

It was small compared to the rest of the presents under the tree. It seemed that they all loved to buy each other gifts. Sometimes when feyre look at them all together, laughing so freely she still couldn’t believe that she was now apart of this.

Rhysand took a seat next to her, his arm draped over the back of the sofa. “You’re awfully quiet darling.” He states as they both watched mor and Cassain argue about the tree. “Everything all right?” There was such sincerity in his voice that she made her heart ache. Darling was a silly pet name that he called her once to cheer her up. It was one of her worst days, her mind lost in her horrid. Rhysand has somehow snapped her out of it, with a few silly and flirtatious comments. It was ridiculous the effect he seemed to have on her.

“It’s a lot to take in. Last Christmas I was still with him,” him,she couldn’t even stomach his name anymore, “we watched Christmas movies until his friend called and asked us to go to a party. I didn’t want to but he did. So we went, he put me in such a shitty dress that I ruined it as best as I could whisky there.” The night flashed in her eyes. She had bumped into two different people with full cups of alcohol just so that it would settle and she would not be able to get it cleaned. Tamlin had been furious when he saw her state, made her pay him back for the amount the dress costs. It was meant to be a gift, something she would wear on more than one event but she ruined it instantly.

“Now you are here with us. And I know what you see right now is a little hectic,” and to prove his point Cassain had thrown an ornament as a snarky Azriel who made even amren smile at his comment, “but I promise it’s worth it. Christmas for us is special. We’ve all had terrible lives but now, even if it gets tough, we know that we have each other to rely on. Now you do too.” His hand fell onto her shoulder and he traced random patterns there. She smiled as tears threatened to spill. She look at him to find his eyes already on her. His usual smirk replaced with a smile. She loved that smile more than the smirk. It seemed so rare and genuine that it made her feel happy he and mor had risked saving her.

“Thank you Rhysand.” Feyre managed to say as a tear slipped down her cheek. He brushed it away instantly whilst his smile remained.

“Anything for you darling.”

~~~

“Can we open the presents yet!” Cassain asked for the thousandth time.

“No you ungrateful bat.” Amren scowled at him from across the dinner table. Feyre liked amren But was still terrified of her, as it seemed they all were. Except maybe Azriel because they seemed to share a common theme of distancing themselves from the loud mouthed mor and cass. Those two seemed to argue as much as possible. However, it always seemed to end with them laughing or targeting someone else at the table. Somehow they managed to twist it on rhys, making amren fell the story of how he tried to flirt with her when they first met. It had them all in stitches, aside from rhys who seemed to be bent on revenge. He selves into stories of Cassain and Morrigon, not daring to test Amren. Azriel sat in silence with a small smile on his face. He seemed at peace in this chaos and as there eyes met through the story she smiled brightly at him, thankful for his quiet presence.

“Either way I want my present so let’s go.” Mor agreed with cass as they both stood and started walking towards the living room not even waiting for an answer this time. Azriel followed quickly to make sure they didn’t break anything. Amren pulled another bottle of wine out and filled her glass. “Gone crazy yet child.”

Feyre looked up and smiled. “Yes but I think I like it.” She stood next to the woman and realized just how small she was. It made her even more terrified of the fact that even though all the men in the house where taller and more muscular they were still terrified.

“Don’t get to used to us. Soon you’ll be wanting to jump of the nearest bridge. Especially when cass get rhys to join him and mor singing those awful Christmas songs.”

“Guys hurry!” Cass shouted towards the three of them. “Az said no present till were all in the room!”

Feyre saw amren roll her eyes at the childish behavior but she just smiled. “Merry Christmas feyre.” Was all amren said beige she walked away with her very full wine glass.

Rhys took her place as she filled her own glass. “Having fun?”

“Very much.” She dated a glance at him as she passed the wine bottle. “Although I have one question.”

“Which is?” His eyes narrowed as her smirking face.

“Why did you continue to flirt with amren if she quite clearly turned you down? Do you think your truly that good?”

Rhys’s face widened in horror. Only for a second before his usual smirk came back. Gods she was is in trouble now. An idea had formed and she prayed she could out think him.

“Darling you have no idea how good I am. And as for amren, well I don’t think anyone would be able to win her heart.”

“You two get your sorry asses in here! Mor screamed out at them. Rhysand chucked but feyre could do nothing but give a weak smile. He sauntered out of the room with his glass and left feyre standing there.

She joined them in the living, sitting in between rhys and mor. Cass day right next to the tree on the floor and amren and Azriel shared the other sofa. “Your an idiot.” Amren murdered and they all laughed at his pouting face.

“Rhysand should go first seen as it’s his house.” Azriel said as cass reached for his. His head snapped at the words but rhys smirked and stood to get his. It was something she had gotten him. Well not gotten but made. Feyre caught onto Azriel an idea that cass would get his gift last and smiled at him, excuses already forming in case he needed them.

Rhys sat back down and inspected the small box. It was in black wrapping later, with stars all over, his name painted onto. A clear indication as to who was his secret Santa but she didn’t care. He’d know anyway when he saw it. Slowly he opened the gift and his eyes widened as he saw it. He shoved the part on the floor and brought the painting closer. Everyone looked at it in shock as well but feyre only look at rhys with an anxious face. She didn’t know him that well yet so she struggled to get him anything but one day he was making her breakfast and reading her again. She let slip that she used to paint and when he asked why she stopped her breath caught in her throat and she nearly cried again. Being the caring and snarky person he was he managed to make her smile. He told her she could paint him at any point and that nude would be better. She threw her spoon at him but they were both smiling.

Now he sat dumbstruck. She didn’t know what he thought of it. Gods she hated it. At first she thought this would be a good idea but now she didn’t know. Her head was thinking of a million things and her heart was in her throat. Then he looked up. Straight at her. She could see the flickers in his deep violet eyes that gave away nearly every emotion. He gave a soft smile. “Thank you.” Is all he said before he looked back at the portrait of himself. He didn’t read the note yet that she slipped at the back of the painting. He definitely could’ve but she saw him slip it into his pocket as mor took her gift. The note was a thank you, for saving her and for making her see the color and beauty in everything again. For wanting to paint.

Feyre sat back, her heart still pounding but happy nonetheless. He didn’t hate it. He didn’t hate it. She repeated as she tried so hard to clear her head.

Feyre felt Rhysand moved and look slightly to see his focus on her hand. Debating. So she moved her head and opened it for his own. To her amazement he took her hand, sending a warm streak through her. She placed her head on his shoulder as they all opened their gifts. Even through all the shouting and screaming her heart was filled with love. When she opened her present she saw a new sketch pad and paints. At first she looked at rhys but then remembered he brought Azriel. She looked around and found a smiling mor. She matched it as the women hugged her tightly. She was her best friend, her other saviour and held her tightly before letting go. She thanked her profoundly and asked how she knew. Rhysand hadn’t told anyone she used to paint. But mor had managed to find out. When mor spoke to Tamlin the first time in her own she had glanced at the painting displayed in the hallway. Tamlin had made her put it there even if that piece wasn’t her favorite. It was flowers in the night sky, with a silhouetted tree that was on fire. All her sisters in one painting. When nesta has given up on her she hated the painting and how much it reminded her of her sister. It hurt to look at but he wouldn’t take it down. Now she’d love to have that painting back. To have her sister back.

“I expect you to maint me next.” Mor said with a wink. “I am the prettiest so it makes sense.”

“Maybe I’ll paint you all.”

@fang1rling-again @yafa-towers

(Comment if you want to be tagged in my work or message me because I really don’t know who I’m meant to tag. It’s been a while since I posted something 😂)

[artificialqueens]

Bring It On (Branjie) - Ashley

A/N: Branjie lesbian high school au inspired by the cinematic masterpiece that is the Bring It On franchise. Multi chapter. Brooke, a sophisticated and hard-working high school ballet dancer’s world is thrown upside down where she’s forced to move to the other side of the continent. Longing to express herself in any way she can Brooke turns to her new school’s cheer squad despite her off-kilter relationship with her new schools head cheerleader… ps: I haven’t written fanfiction in 2 years and know this isn’t great but I had the idea and needed to execute. I realise there is an overload of branjie at the minute and mine probably isn’t up to par but I’m having fun writing it! Drink every time there is a cliche… you’ll be mortal by the end of this chapter don’t you worry.

TW: alcohol, homophobic slur

21 hours. Brooke spent a deceptive 21 hours in the car with her parents saying goodbye to the bright city lights of Toronto and hello to the jungle of Tampa Heights. It seemed like such a long time to be on the road but when 17 years of ballet, boys, friends and family was being torn away – 21 hours seemed like nothing. Training every single day till she finally broke through with being cast as Odette and it was gone in less than one. Brooke’s blood, sweat and tears were suddenly and swiftly wiped away – all gone without a trace. Yes, Brooke could start training again in Florida but it wouldn’t be the same; she’d have slipped right down the bottom of the ladder with not a hand to pull her up. The thought of dancing anywhere but her studio left Brooke with an uncomfortable feeling- guilt? Longingness? Maybe it was just that darker voice telling her that there were always better things happening that she was not a part of. The same voice that she tried to shut out the next day as she made her way to her first lesson at R.A Charles High and scanned the room for a place to sit.

Brooke was the type of person whose cogs were always turning. She didn’t need to come into a room guns blazing. She took deep breaths, she observed, she catalogued and she always came off as pristine. That’s why the clean-cut prima ballerina surprised herself when she stood at the back of the class – the unfamiliar environment closing in on her – with not a thought about composure crossing her mind. Throwing herself into the closest seat she could, Brooke looked to her left to see one of the most visually intriguing people she had ever come across in her life. With heavy eyes, a protruding brow and a shaved head, the boy was a strange mix of breathtaking and frightening. Fascinated by his prominent features and the way in which his lips moved, it took Brooke a few moments to realise the boy was talking to her.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” She asked, her confidence once again faltering and finding herself questioning every pause, emphasis and even her own accent in the simple five-word sentence.

“I said I’m Jovan, you must be new.”

“That obvious?” Brooke smiled whilst belittling herself on the inside.

“No existing student here would sit with me” the boy let out a hearty laughed that Brooke wanted to catch and keep in a jar forever.

The utter antithesis of her friends back in Toronto, Brooke’s mind dabbled across the thought that two days ago she wouldn’t have even spoken to the boy. Nevertheless, this was a fresh start, the boy seemed nice and this Brooke wouldn’t pass up the opportunity of a potential friend to show her about - apparently she had a lot of catching up to do. Hence her reason for accepting the invite to watch a film at Jovan’s house later that night despite the lack of similarities in their lifestyles. This lack of similarity between the two friends being outlined clearly when it got to lunch time and Brooke asked Jovan if the school had any dance teams or facilities; resulting in the return of the hearty laugh she’d met earlier.

“I guess you could say we do,” Jovan rolled his eyes, “Come see for yourself”.

Making their way into the cafeteria it was already evident to Brooke who Jovan was going to show her, a gaggle of girls clad in tight blue cheer uniforms. Skirts short. Pony’s high. Legs lotioned to perfection - this was the first time Brooke lay eyes on the Amazons. Before she could fully take them in they were already up on the table performing for the school- not an eye glancing anywhere but the three girls.

“My names big Silky, yeah, get out my face, cause when I shake it, it’s like a hurricane.”

The three clicked their hands and stomped their feet so in sync they commanded everyone’s attention - especially Brooke’s.

“My names Akeria, yeah, you use three wishes, you see me shake it, cause I’m delicious”’

Though both pretty and commanding- it was immediately clear to Brooke who the leader of the trio was. Her dark hair was tied back in a pony showing off her strong bone structure and deep brown eyes. A few strands of hair falling out of place to frame her face just perfectly. She was a butterfly emerging from the group, simultaneously dark and feminine. The royal blue of the uniform impeccably matched her skin tone; the girl exuded a sense of confidence, significance, importance. A wave crashed over Brooke and she was finding it incredibly hard to stay afloat. Despite having such a petite frame she managed to show dominance over the other girls and steal away any eyes that wandered away from her- “my is names Vanjie, yeah, I like to party, and when I shake it, the kids say hi mami” she jumped from the table down to the floor and flipped seemingly effortlessly onto the ground in front of her.

Before giving a flirtatious curtsey and sitting back down with the other Amazons, the girl made dead eye contact with Brooke and winked - for the first time in years Brooke felt utterly aware of herself as though she was stood fully naked. There was that wave again - Brooke was now without a doubt drowning. Her inner monologue questioned why she was so drawn to the girl and why that wink sent her into internal hysterics before being snapped back to reality by Jovan’s voice; “And that is R.A Charles’ answer to dance,” he laughed before shaking his head in clear disdain at the cheerleaders, Brooke noting something in his tone deeper rooted that she was afraid to question. Despite having a deep curiosity about “Vanjie” she held back from asking Jovan with fear of losing the only potential friend she had at her new school so kept quiet for the rest of the day - her thoughts nonetheless congregated with images of the girl. Every lesson she innocently scanned the class, telling herself it had nothing to do with the cheerleader yet being contrastingly disappointed every time her face failed to appear in any of Brooke’s classes. Brooke was a bee already trapped onto a flower’s pollen despite only one ounce of exposure to it and no suggestion as to why it pulled her in so much. Brooke was feeling the power of instant attraction coercing her in a way she had never experienced before, even if she couldn’t quite discern herself what that attraction was. Yes she had looked at girls before and felt a desire to be liked by them, a want to be friends with them but this was different - whatever it was Brooke felt about the girl, it was more than a want, it was a need.

***

Although Brooke had the preconceived notion that Jovan’s bedroom would be nothing like her old one in Toronto - clean and organised with her wardrobe colour coordinated with sections and subsections for patterns and materials, her windowsill gleaming enough to see her own reflection - she didn’t expect this. Chaotic. The walls had so much writing scrawled on them that you could barely make out the words and letters, everything blending together like one silver line drawing. If Brooke could describe it in the simplest of literary ways it would be if an interior designer on ket and an interior designer on weed made a room together whilst also drunk- even her attempts to describe the room in a simple simile overcomplicating itself in Brooke’s mind. The utter antithesis of what she had seen of the rest of the house with its clean-cut simplicity, something Brooke was a lot more accustomed to.

“Where’s your family tonight?” Brooke asked, trying her best to get to know her new friend.

“My moms working late and my stepdads out with a friend, I don’t know about Vanessa.”

“Vanessa?”

“My stepsister,” Jovan replied, his tone implying he had no interest in discussing her further, once again pushing Brooke back into that space of holding back, not wanting to get on the nerves of her new friend. “Want some?” he pulled a bottle of vodka from under his bed.

Although Brooke’s automatic answer to this question had always been a firm yet polite no, she was an athlete, something made her want to say yes. Whether it was the fact that she’d essentially been picked up from her old life and dropped somewhere completely new or unfamiliar, the fact that she knew she wouldn’t be able to dance the way she used to, Jovan’s blunt and innocent way of asking or simply that she wanted to fit in, Brooke didn’t know. Maybe it was a combination of all of it - nothing to hold her back.

***

She felt warm. And cold. Not particularly drunk. Maybe just euphoric. She didn’t know, and she couldn’t work it out. It scared her, the thought of not being in control of herself and her thoughts, yet she also felt relaxed, like it didn’t matter. A walking oxymoron of paranoia and level headedness she made her way out of Jovan’s room and downstairs to find some food, leaving her new friend giggling to himself on his bed and staring at the ceiling as though it were that of the Sistine Chapel. Walking into the kitchen she was surprised to see someone already raking through the fridge. Immediately transported back to the school cafeteria, Broke was frozen, sheepish, suddenly self-conscious of everything: her stance, her smile, the body she’d treated as a temple for years. It was her. Turning around with a diet coke in each hand, the cheerleader started talking without fully taking Brooke in, “Jovan how many freaking times have I told you not to loiter in the doorways like some sorta ant-” she stopped mid-flow as she looked up to see Brooke.  “Oh.”

“Hi,” Brooke smiled at the girl, feeling the weight of the world on her head when she titled it the slightest degree, scared she’d sound utterly pissed if she spoke anymore, she just smiled at the girl - in the end looking even more pissed.

“I know you,” the girl, Vanessa, grinned. Brooke’s head was stuck in a loop. I know you. I didn’t imagine it. I know you. It was hard to fathom how those three words sent Brooke in such a tailspin - all she wanted to do was walk over there rip the scrunchie out of her hair and hold her. Never in her life had she felt such an instant attraction. And too a girl. Always too focused on ballet to spend time dating, Brooke was not one to fall into the trap of romanticism, yet her she was throwing herself headfirst into the rocky waters for a girl who spoke 3 words to her. Vanessa. The butterfly. The beautiful sea witch who stole her voice. Slinky, small and seductive - Brooke was under her spell.

Stuck in a trance, Brooke and Vanessa’s session of eye-fucking was interrupted by the sound of voices coming into the room. Thud. Vanessa’s coke hit the floor.

“Vanjie can you hurry up I don’t want to be stuck waiting around with your faggy brother?” A boy Brooke hadn’t seen before sighed, glaring impatiently at Vanessa.

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything,” Jovan muttered under his breath before rolling his eyes and grabbing Brooke’s wrist to take her upstairs. “This is my friend Brooke by the way, thanks for the hospitality” he scoffed as they left the room. “You can’t go home tonight, you’re way too drunk”

“Your sister is the cheerleader?” Brooke asked mid-stumble up the stairs to which Jovan laughed in response. “And that’s her boyfriend?”

“Winner winner chicken dinner,” he sighed before tucking Brooke into his bed and making himself comfortable on the floor; Brooke asleep before they could even say goodnights.

***

Brooke woke up startled about where she was, and even more startled to see her peculiar looking friend sat watching her.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a weirdo?” Brooke squinted at the light above whilst sitting up.

“Every day,” Jovan laughed, throwing Brooke a toothbrush and sachet of paracetamol, “Hurry you’ll need these.”

Immediately disgusted at the bitter aftertaste of alcohol in her mouth and the thought of going to school without having showered nevermind completing her full morning routine, Brooke dragged herself to bed and allowed Jovan to show her the way to the bathroom.  Looking at herself in the mirror she began to pick apart her general ruggedness that morning, god she looked rough. Hearing the door creak open, she was surprised to see Vanessa stood in front on her instead of Jovan, looking like a Disney princess just rolled out of bed with her hair perfectly coiffed and not a bag under her eyes in sight. Keeping her cool she tried to continue brushing her teeth normally as Vanessa grabbed her own brush and started to clean her teeth. Switching glances between the mirror and the girl next to her, Brooke only realised how aggressively she had been brushing until Vanessa began to imitate her, spitting and giving Brooke a quizzical look. Soon they were enthralled in their own mini-contest, Vanessa remaining stone cold and she sped up and brushed harder before giving the sink one final rinse, dropping her toothbrush in a draw and walking out without uttering a word in Brooke’s direction - gone with the flick of her hair. Vanessa - 1, Brooke - 0.

***

It was not until 5th period on the Thursday of that week that Brooke saw Vanessa again. Gym class. On being informed that her teacher was absent that day, Brooke was told that her class would merge with the neighbouring one for a game of dodgeball in the gymnasium. Low and behold there was the girl she’d been unable to escape for the past two days, the centre of gravity in the room, her hair in its signature ponytail, tanned legs on show. Too distracted by Vanessa’s presence she hadn’t even noticed she’d walked into someone until she heard: “watch where you’re going, white girl.” Looking up she matched the voice with one of the two girls Vanessa had been dancing in the cafeteria with the Monday before, Silky. Unsure of how to react Brooke just backed away but only seemed to make matters worse. “Hey Vanjie,” the girl yelled, “think I’ve found an easy target for today’s game,” she mimicked throwing a ball at Brooke. Expecting Vanessa to at least acknowledge their meeting on Monday before or encounter the next morning with even a smile or look, Brooke was surprised to see the girl simply laugh at her friend, acting as if Brooke didn’t exist. If there was one thing Brooke thrived upon it was being underestimated, her competitive nature from years of ballet rising inside of her. She was channelling every piece of fear and fight that she’d felt in her battle to become Odette last term. Let the games begin.

Though putting up a fight, the cheerleaders were no match for Brooke- twirling, kicking and behind out of the way she managed to dodge every throw until she was the last one on her side, opposed by none other than Vanessa.

“C’mon Vanjie!” She heard the girls friends chant from the sidelines, determined to stick it back to the popular girl, Brooke clenched the ball between her hands. All of a sudden she saw the opposing ball fly towards her legs, quickly leaping into a box jump it swung right under her body, Brooke took the opportunity of Vanessa being off-guard to throw her own ball mid-air - colliding forcefully into the other girl’s chest. One point to Brooke, she thought to herself as she watched the girl walk over to her friends and chat frustratingly with glances in her direction.

“Hey white girl,” Vanessa’s other friend, Akeria, shouted over. Contemplating on ignoring her, Brooke realised she would probably only make trouble for herself walking away from the most popular girls in school so doubtfully decided to make her way over to them.

“You’re pretty flexible,” Akeria said as she came over, eyeing Brooke in a peculiar way, as though he was looking up and down an outfit she was going to try on.

“Thanks, I guess,” Brooke replied, she may be intimidated by the girls but she had always portrayed confident and never let her cracks show.

“You know were holding tryouts for the Amazons tomorrow, one of our girls broke her leg and we need a replacement before we compete, you should come along,” Silky smiled at Brooke, showing a completely different side to when they had first entered the gym.

“Just because she’s flexible doesn’t mean she can cheer,” Vanessa joined in the conversation, “I highly doubt this girl’s gonna be able to yell or flip,” she added as though Brooke wasn’t even a part of the conversation.

“Vanjie, we need a new girl or else we can’t compete,” Akeria made faces at her friend that Brooke could clearly read as “what are you doing!!!!”

“I’m sorry girls and no offence Brandy but I think you’re underestimating our hustle. Cheer is hard work and I don’t think she’s cut out for the team,” Vanessa fake smiled before turning on one heel and strutting away from the group.

Brooke was stunned at Vanessa suggesting that she had little work ethic, she wanted so badly to follow the girl and give her a piece of her mind…along with a piece of her full stop. Because no matter how much a of a bitch the girl Brooke had spent the last four days enthralled with turned out to be, she only wanted her more and more. She was going to find a way to be up there with the Amazons. And she was not going to back down.

[darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts]

Devil’s own luck pt8

Warnings: strong language, mobstyling war lords 

Masterlst link

---

Chapter 8 – Forgotten Instincts

After the doors had closed [Name] let out a noise that was a mixture of a cry and groan causing Mitsuhide to look to see if she had somehow hurt herself on something in the few seconds it had taken him to press the button on the wall.

“Sing for your Master! What the Hell!? First, I get told I’m being ‘kept’ here as a kind of puppet. Even knowing that I still get shocked by the fact that he wants to take me out to give a performance of God knows what, to where, and for who.” The air around her was buzzing and her voice was a controlled mixture of rage and confusion.

“Nobunaga is normally like that and once his mind is set…” Mitsuhide had begun to try to smooth out her mood only to be interrupted.

“It’s not about him. I mean he is an arrogant, demanding jerk, but it’s not about him at all it’s me.” Her voice still had an edge to it that could have cut glass but she was calming down and her shoulders rounded as she hung her head.

“You? I’m afraid you’ve lost me my dear.” Mitsuhide kept his small comfortable distance from her so as not to exasperate the situation. No good has ever come from getting too close to a woman in an emotionally agitated state. Tell them to calm down they simply get angrier, but he had a new urge to reach out and touch her. Look up.

“Yes me. I have never in all my life felt to completely useless. I can’t do anything. I can’t go home I can’t work, I can’t see my cat, I can’t go outside, there is nothing for me to do except sit in my room looking out of the windows. I’m in a situation I can’t escape from and I can’t change it… I’m so frustrated with myself that I even got into this mess in the first place.” Desperation leaked through her words as she plainly spelled out what she was thinking and feeling. It was a jumbled mess but she was still processing her thoughts.

Mitsuhide suddenly understood she wasn’t just angry at Nobunaga and his plans he made without consideration for others, she was lashing out at herself internally. Well I know how that feels, that is a feeling I can work with. He had never been good with crying women, but angry, hurt, damaged those things fell right into his skill set.

“Well little mouse it might be best if instead of focusing on what you can’t do and instead look at what you can.” He was speaking from experience with that at least. He knew it was difficult to be in a situation you cannot avoid but it helped to focus on when you can control rather than what you couldn’t.

“What do you mean?” She looked up at him her questioning eyes glittering before him and he really wanted to move closer but forced himself to remain in place. Teasing is all very well and good but it is only fun when they aren’t already upset.

“You can ask for anything except your freedom. If you wish for new clothes, make up, games… they are all but a request away.” Mitsuhide remined her. You have either forgotten this or you really are just a simple little creature content with very little.

“And you honestly expect me to be happy playing dress up, doing girly stuff day in day out… I’m going to go even crazier!” The glitter in her eyes turned to sparks as she pushed back verbally against him. It wasn’t exactly a fight but she was defiant to the last.

It was true that when he had visited her apartment there had been enough to comfortably live but nothing that he would have said screamed she was that kind of girl lying around. Her clothes were meticulously organized in their appropriate draws and cupboards and her vanity table had a bare minimum of make-up. There was obviously a woman there but not one that spent a lot of money on either her clothing or her own vanity. Low maintenance isn’t so bad, not like she needs a lot of make up anyway.

“Point taken… well then what would you usually do that didn’t involve going outside to entertain yourself?” Curiosity started to kick in now and he found himself asking a genuine question without any under lying motives. When did I care so much about making one person comfortable?

“Well I watched DVDs, read some books, I also had my cat, my mobile, laptop, oh and I had my hobby.” She looked a bit nostalgic as she remembered how she coped with spare time. It was strange to see that look when she had only really been with them all for nearly a week. But he knew how time seemed to drag when you had nothing to do, a day felt like a week a week a month and so on. They just blurred and time itself felt like it had stopped. If time flies when you’re having fun, it dies when you aren’t.

“Mobile and laptop completely off limits I’m sorry but I must control communications during this time and those are a big no no. But this hobby of yours… it wasn’t going out running and locating gun fights now was it?” He couldn’t stop it he teased her and she gave a little huff to his words but still answered him.

“No, I paint and draw.” Calmer now it looked like she had suddenly remembered where they were as she went quite balling her fists up at her sides looking at the sliding doors in front of them.

The elevator stopped and opened once more onto the corridor that ran to the other rooms in the building and she removed herself quickly from the metal box.

“I didn’t know that.” Mitsuhide said thoughtfully as he moved to her side and they began walking once more.

“Did you ask?” Her little jab was a tiny bit biting but from her face he could see she was just poking back at him.

“Touché.” Muttered Mitsuhide as he looked down on her.

They remained in a comfortable silence until they reached her room. It was curious, Mitsuhide had never taken an interest in anyone unless it benefited him to do so and yet he found himself wanting to dig deeper and find out more about this slip of a girl that obliviously puts herself in danger, speaks her mind without a filter and whilst she was undeniably fragile she showed such strength.

“Thank you.” Her quite words caught him off guard and he looked at her again.

“Emm what for? I haven’t done anything that warrants thanks.” Mitsuhide asked clearly perplexed by the gratitude. It was true he hadn’t if anything she could probably blame him for a lot of her situation but instead she wasn’t.

“I just wanted to say it. Anyway… Good night Mitsuhide.” She flashed his a genuinely vibrant smile that sucked all the air from his lungs. She appeared to be moving in slow motion as she entered her room and closed the door behind her but all to fast it was over and he was rooted to the spot by her door staring at the memory of the first smile she had ever shown him replaying it over and over before his eyes. Well that is incredibly unfair.

He managed to move his body away from her room and back to his and he went straight to his kitchen and grabbed a bottle of red wine pouring himself a large glass of it before deciding on put his lips to the bottle and chugging a few gulps instead. He let out a deep sign before setting down the bottle and picking up the glass moving towards his balcony for some fresh air.

As he lent on the railing gazing out into the city still alive and buzzing he took a deep breath before sighing once more. It wasn’t like him, it wasn’t like him at all not once in all these years had he let someone get under his skin. But out of no where she slid in like smoke seeping into his pores and running into him until she came to his frozen heart and made it beat once more.

“This could be very, very bad…” He recalled the feeling he had had when he first brought her here and contrary to his words and negative tone of his voice he was smiling.

---

The sun had set hours ago and the long shadows of the night had all joined up blanketing the area in darkness. He moved into the buildings foyer and collected the mail from the wall of post boxes. Junk mostly but a few envelopes promised to be something that required reading. He dumped the junk mail into the recycling bin before moving to the staircase to begin his climb to her apartment.

She told him she didn’t get in elevators even in this building it was clear she was terrified of them so it didn’t shock him. He preferred staircases as it limited the chance or time he might be caught on a camera. In a lift you were more than likely on camera from the second the door opened, however in a staircase you could see it and maybe move to avoid it if you wanted too. Blind spots… we all had them and our technology wasn’t much better.

He reached the level he was looking for and quickly found her front door. He pulled out her keys that he had taken from her when she was passed out in his arms, he also had her mobile phone. He didn’t remember doing it, it was in some way a reflex of his, a secondary unconscious motion that had saved his neck many times before.

He smirked at the collection of cutesy keychains as he turned the key in the lock. How adorably predictable. Inside the tiny apartment it was the same as she had left it, clean, tidy and if he was honest comforting. He felt it when he first found the place that her presence in the small abode was like walking into a welcoming hug. How long had it been since that had happened? Did it ever actually happen?

His experience with relationships was tainted he knew that. You don’t grow up in their world and not meet your fair share of schemers, blackmailers, would be assassins or collection of other people who are trying to get what they can before it’s too late. Rewards for deeds best left forgotten. If he had found warmth in someone else’s arms it was normally an act of some sort. Never fall in love, never get deeply attached, hell he was damned now if he could remember the names. Shaking his head slightly he moved towards the living room and sat on her sofa and checked her mail for her.

He flipped his phone open and typed out a few names and numbers before closing it again assured that the bills had been paid without even having to check. He saw her laptop sitting in the corner and was tempted to pick it up and look but decided to leave that for another night.

– Purrwow –

Her cat jumped up on the sofa next to him looking at him with a pair of deep green eyes. Pets in general didn’t interest him, he knew that Masamune had a pet tiger that he rescued from a black-market dealer when he was buying supplies for his company. Nobunaga had that big black bird that he was told was a hawk of some sort, Ieyasu had a deer so some unknown reason, Hideyoshi had a monkey which always got a few laughs from Nobunaga as “the resemblance is uncanny. Must be in the DNA.” Mitsuhide had no pet, he was barely around so having one seemed like it might be unfair to the creature so he never bothered. Mitsunari had brought home a kitten one day he found by a dumpster and if Mitsuhide went to see him in the library the cat would normally curl up and let him stroke it.

This cat, her cat, just seemed to stare at him. If he was another sort of man he would possibly get unnerved by it but he just stared back into those emerald eyes and waited for this staring game end.

He had arranged for one of his men to pop in and check on the cat as part of basic duties. And he could see that the litter box and bowls were all clean and filled.

“Well what do you want?” He asked the purring creature.

The cat hopped down and walked into a different room and he followed. It was her bedroom. Crisp white sheets with delicate cherry blossom patterns on the edges on the bed, neatly arranged furniture around the room feminine in a minimal and modest way. Just like her, He thought to himself as he watched the cat move to a mirrored door beside it clawing at it lightly before looking at him.

“What you go a toy in there of something?” He chuckled lightly at the animal pining for its trapped plaything and he slid the door back to see a couple of portfolios. That’s right she did say she drew. Without staying any longer, the cat walked off with a tiny swagger as if to say it’s work here was done.

He picked up the portfolios and placed them on the bed and opened them. Inside drawings and paintings in pencil and ink mesmerized him slightly. Landscapes, mythical creatures, people, there even seemed to be a few that looked like dress designs. She was good, there was an innocent, naive quality to it all and it was so very her and very charming. After admiring them for a while he carefully put them away again and left the apartment. In his car he took out his phone and left a message for one of his contacts to get in touch in the morning.

“Did I just take orders from a cat?” he asked himself as he started up the car. He shook his head laughing to himself as he made his way downtown.

In the darker shadows across the street from the apartment block hidden from the pools of light cast down from the street lamps, a figure dressed in black watched as one of the six pulled away. After a few minutes they too left the scene without a trace and headed to a warehouse outside of the city.

---

[parkbearum]

Absorbed

Sehun X Reader

“Falling leaves didn’t help while her eyes searched for an explanation...”

Taking a look at the sky,you could gather how late it was.Being left with all the work for the week had its perks and you could feel them when your neck started to hurt.College was nice,people surrounding you were quite refreshing as well as the teachers.What you didn’t really expect was the amount of work required after the first year.

Getting up in the empty drawing room,you approached the palette to wash it.You were the last one in the class as your pace was quite slow compared to the others,but you knew your destination.You heard a few footsteps approach you while you hummed a song.

When your eyes met his,there were sparks.You weren’t sure if he saw or felt them,but you did.You could feel their solid presence around you.You smiled back at his sparkly eyes as he walked to you.He was your closest friend of all.

Sehun touched your waist and continued walking towards the window.He sighed as you studied his features over again.Friends were ought to be close,no matter how different or unusual they were.You were like that,too.

The only difference was the definition of the word,’friends’.

People called each other friends after a few talks or smiles.People who hung out together,ate together and laughed together were called ‘friends’.You did all of those things with Sehun.

The definition used by all people didn’t suit your relationship,because there was more to it.

Normal friends wouldn’t find each other exhausted in the bed when the morning lights hit the curtains.They wouldn’t make out after a long break or sneak out in a room at a party because they only needed each others’ company.They wouldn’t hold hands under a table or shiver when their back hit the cold wall.

But sure,you were friends.

He took a long look at the sky before facing you.You washed your hands in the process,wanting to get rid of all the paint on your hands.You heard him chuckle first,rather darkly.Soon,his snicker could be heard.

“You’re getting out late these days?”he said with a low tone that made you question his expression.Sometimes,his expressions and words didn’t go well together.

“Hmm.”you said,not taking another look at him.He was there for attention,you knew him well enough.

“I wonder why.”he said,clearly dropping hints.It was either that he needed you physically or he was just bored.

“I got loads of work to do.”you sighed when you both walked outside the class.

For someone blended in like you,Sehun was a gift.You were normally a quite girl who minded her own business.You had a small group of friends but no other attachments.He,on the other hand,was very popular.Not just in school but also in the city.Being very handsome and rich made him the perfect guy for many girls.

But not you.

You caught his eye after sculptor lessons.He had friends there and liked the girl who took art,as a fan of the branch himself.He wasn’t sure he saw you before but after checking with his ‘friends’,he had enough information about you.They told him that you were quiet yet hardworking.Having to be all by yourself made you a strong person,especially in a big city like this.When he asked them whether you had a boyfriend,one of them scoffed.

No attachments,they said.

After that,he was all over you.Not because he wanted an attachment but you were interesting to him.In fact,he had many attempts to hit on you,failed regardless.You either ignored him or just scoffed and kept walking.After a certain amount of time,you got close.

You realized he wasn’t that bad.You both started to hang out and have fun together.Until you found yourself laying on his large bed one morning.’I hate alcohol’ you cursed under you breath and just when you were ready to escape,he brought you breakfast and opened a movie.

And now,there you were,waiting for the elevator to stop so that his annoying hand could find its place.He was a patient boy but not when it came to you.He endured every second but despite taking his time,he also wanted to have all of you,so he was quite fast sometimes.

You saw his jaw flinch as he tensed under each passing second.The reason why his actions were so rapid was because he lived quick.His father’s company was ought to be his and since he was on a road to become someone powerful and rather important,he had to live fast.

You took his hand while walking towards his apartment.In a residence so big,he lived on the 16th floor and the wait was quite a test for you.You saw a few woman giggle at him as he smiled.He was everyone’s favorite boy,unlike you.

When you saw his door,everything went by too quick for you to capture.In the blink of an eye you were pressed against the wooden door with his heavy breathing on your neck,travelling up and down.Your hands reached his hair,silky and soft as you caressed it with the tips of your fingers.

His breath it your ear when he finally lifted your dress up to caress your thighs.It hadn’t been too long since you were on his bed,practically screaming but he wanted more.That was the thing you didn’t quite get when it came to Sehun.He wanted more and more,no matter how many rounds it had been.

You sighed when his hands traveled to your upper thigh.When you felt shivers all around your body,you moaned.It was a slow,rather low moan that made him go crazy.You knew how to make him beg and loved it when he was obeying your every sentence,that was something you benefited from.

He chuckled after your moan,understanding your intentions at last.You smiled at kiss he started,devouring every piece of you.While he explored your body once again,your mind drifted away.No matter how much you hated to admit,a part of you belonged to him.Maybe as a friend or a lover but it was his.Deep down in your heart,he was smiling at you.

And that broke your heart.

You said no attachments after your first night with him.Made sure that he didn’t get too close but when you went to bed with a person,being close was inevitable.While you tried to ignore his feelings,yours got out of hand.It was something you couldn’t get rid of an knew that when the time came,you were going to be hurt.

When his finger brushed your core,you were back in reality.You felt his tongue against your neck,sucking and marking it.Your dress fell on your shoulders,the straps were too loose after his attack.The cloth hit his skin while he carried you to the bed,gently putting you on the silky sheets.You couldn’t help but look at him in awe.

Unlike most girls,his face or money wasn’t why you were attracted to him in the first place.They were there,too.His good looks and expensive car were hard to ignore,but you liked how unpredictable he was.He would walk in a straight line and just when he was about to finish,he would either turn back or start walking in a weird way.

What you’ve also realized was how lonely he actually was.Being surrounded by smart and pretty girls as well as cool guys seemed like a plus from the outsider’s view,but there was so much more to his life.He refused to get too close with people so when you said that you were going over to his,one of his ‘best friends’ looked at you with a shocked expression,he didn’t even know where Sehun lived.

His shallow breath his your bare skin while you shivered under his touch.It felt like electricity roaming through your body.He slowly removed his shirt when you took your dress off.It was always a show for him,especially when he undressed himself.You smiled at his cockiness and pulled him in for a kiss.

It was rather slow compared to your usual kisses.The heat slowly spread through your whole body while he kept you in position.You felt his heartbeat while your tongues fought for dominance,fast and excited.When you both started to search for air,the kiss stopped.

A slow yet wide smile formed on his lips,telling you how much he was enjoying this.He liked to tease you but when you were left breathless,he enjoyed it much more.His small chuckles turned into a loud laugh while you tickled his neck.At times like these,you got the best of him as much as you could.

He started to chuckle deeply when you stopped.Your breaths got heavier and heavier by the second while he kept planting kisses on your bare skin.The room suddenly felt small,you felt suffocated by his beauty in the wide room.He kept caressing you,showing affection before the main act.

When his face got lost in your body,you sighed.Knowing what was coming was both relaxing and tense.His breath hit your inner thigh and that’s when your hands held his hair.The air was thick around you whilst he kept exploring your body.

“Ugh”you moaned while he kept his smirk on his face,he was enjoying this way too much.

Having a handsome face benefited him in many ways.He was popular in school and everyone admired him.Another plus of that was also having many girls in bed.You could see many girls in the hallway get excited when they even smelled his perfume so getting one into bed wasn’t that hard for him.

Years of hard work in the bed made him a master.He knew many types of girls and also knew how to act when it came to them.That was the reason why he was flustered after your first time.You didn’t feel like any of the other girls.You were rather a combination.He respected the fact that every girl was beautiful in their own way and appreciated that but you,it was a whole different story.

Your skin started to get sweaty with his fastening movements under your body.His face was trapped inside your legs,moving ever so slightly and that was when a moan left your lips.After he was done with your core,he smirked and kissed your collarbones.

Having him do these little things were becoming a burden for you.You couldn’t help your stupid heart and started to develop feelings for him.It would be okay if you just liked his looks but despite all that,you loved his small actions.They made your heart flutter.

When he would kiss your forehead before going in the car or his hand would touch yours slightly when he saw you in the hallway.He would help you clean your palette and take you out to midnight dates where you would find a spot an talk for endless hours.

He made it impossible for you to not have feelings.

His small chuckle at your dreamy state pulled you back into reality.He slowly hovered above you once again.You touched his cheeks as he leaned onto your touch.If anyone saw you like this,they would think you were lovers.He leaned closer to you,until you felt his eyelashes brush yours.

The kiss was soft this time.It was slow and like a talk.You felt like he wanted to say something and with that,broke the kiss.When you made eye contact,you something foreign in his eyes.He looked fascinated.Your heart started to race when his lips parted but it was only another peck on the forehead.

When he kept kissing you and stopped touching your body,you saw where this was going.He either had to leave or meet someone.He was busy,you knew that and that his work was the most important thing for him.He let go of you in the bed after apologizing,you didn’t even know what that was for.

You laid in his large bed,facing the ceiling while tears gathered around the corners of your eyes.Feelings were bad right? Especially for him.You mustn’t feel anything.He’s just a playboy,or at least he was until he stopped seeing other girls because of you.

His eyes came into your vision again when you broke the kiss.They were sad but deep inside them,you could see fireworks.It was impossible to see.You got up on the bed when you realized what you actually saw.

You saw his long and strong boundaries made of glass.They were shattering.You were the one who broke them and now,he felt insecure to let someone in.You buried yourself in a bunch of pillows and cried your eyes out,not knowing what to do with a sad boy.

He walked outside with a cigarette in his hand.His heart was racing when he got out in the balcony.He never smoked,unless there was something bothering him.This time,it was his feelings.He buried them deep inside when his mother left him.Promised to never open them up again,unlike his father.

He made sure to hang out with different girls each time,so that he wouldn’t get attached.He didn’t tell his friends about his life but nevertheless,there was fun.He drank all night when he felt a small feeling surface.It was forbidden for him.

That’s where you came in.He was sure you would he another hookup that he would forget.When you felt his apartment for the first time,he couldn’t help but smile.He admired you from the outside first.He was busy so back then,he didn’t have much time to care about feelings surfacing.

“I should’ve told her from the beginning.”he thought while the smoke disappeared.He knew you weren’t just a hookup nor a friend.You were much more than that but he never told you.He knew that sometimes you were hurt,and you cried because you didn’t know what to do.It was your first time having a relationship like this.

It was his first time,too.He had countless amount of girls in his bed.Hours spend on bars but you were exclusive.It didn’t feel like sex anymore.There were feelings within it and when he tried to ignore them,it just didn’t happen.He got addicted to you.When he was in a party with his friends,he wanted you.

Not your body but your talks and small gestures.You small dimple on your right cheek and how you had bun on wednesdays.Your small giggle after eating something delicious and how you couldn’t use chopsticks and he had to teach you.

He shook his head.Took the cigarette in his mouth again and sighed.All that could be heard was his loud footsteps approaching the door.He walked fast.His feelings exploded in that moment.He wanted to be in your life,to protect and love you.A small tear left his eye when he realized what he felt.

It was love.