#hANG ON YOUR TAGS ANOTHER???? FROM PART SIX????? what. what if i cried oh my god. oh my god. oh my god.

[swordsmans]

OH??? OH MY GOD??? OH MY GOD???? [[SCREAMING]]

I read the sea makes bones of bodies by @swordsmans and guys. GUYS. I’m.. hhhhhhh. this fic!!! I have so many things I want to draw but of course luffy and sabo mer designs escaped first

[leighsartworks216]

The Viper (Part 5)

Jaskier x gn!reader

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve

I am once again writing this late at night instead of sleeping

Warnings: swearing, death, allusions to hypothermia, allusion to torture, unaddressed trauma (/hj), two idiots being soft and being friends

Word Count: 2165

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Jaskier was quiet. He’d hardly said a word since Geralt blew up on him. His fingers would rub against each other every now and again, as if he wished to pluck the strings on his lute, but he did not reach for his instrument, even after you settled down in a makeshift camp for the night. Instead, he just stared into the fire, thinking. He only came back to his senses when you were holding a roasted hare on a stick in front of his face. He took it with a brief, weak smile, but even then he just seemed to look at the meat with a frown.

“You need to eat something,” you urged. “You won’t have the strength to make it down the mountain if you don’t.”

“I didn’t even have the strength to stand up for myself!” he cried. The energy from his outburst vanished into the night immediately after. “Sorry.” His nimble fingers picked at bits of the hare. You watched as he pulled off a bit and ate it. It eased your worry slightly.

Once he began eating, you did, too. You ripped off small pieces much like he did. Your eyes didn’t leave the bard. “So you learn how to.”

He looked up. “What?”

“You learn how to stand up for yourself, for next time.”

He sighed. His whole body was hunched over, closing himself away from the harsh world he found himself in. “Next time…” He stared back at the fire. It reminded him all too much of those nights spent with Geralt, chasing after some beast and freezing in bedrolls when they didn’t have coin for an inn. “Next time, I’ll tell him to shove it up his arse.”

You chuckled. He lightened up a bit at the sound. “That’s a good start.”

You missed the sound of the chirping crickets not found at the higher elevations of the Continent. They filled the night with their songs, a sign that danger was not around. And, oh, the owls. As trees became more frequent, so too did birds. You could hear owls in the distance - their silent wings carried them in the air as they searched for mice to eat. Bats, too. The high-pitched clicks not perceived by humans were easily picked up by your sensitive ears as they hunted mosquitos and other small insects.

“Thank you, by the way.” Pulled from the sounds of the night, you turned back to Jaskier. He looked at you with soft blue eyes, worn out from the day's events. “For, erm, yelling at Geralt, like that.” The gratitude came from him stiff and stumbled, but it was genuine.

You smiled. “It was my pleasure.”

He grinned, too.

-

Even as you traveled in front of him, you could still hear Jaskier’s boots slipping on the uneven gravel and rocks of the mountain. Sure enough, when you looked over your shoulder, he was holding an arm out to balance himself as he slid, clutching to the strap of his lute so it did not get damaged. Some steps he took were accentuated with grumbles and winces, undoubtedly from sharp points of rocks poking through the thin soles.

“After all this time traveling, you never thought to get better boots?”

“Ah, well, I thought about it.” He reached even ground and came to a light jog by your side. “Never had the extra coin to actually get any.”

You did not need to see his face to know just how exasperated he felt when another slope came into sight. Before he could start for it, however, you placed a hand on his chest and stopped him.

“What?”

You looked around, eyes scanning the rocky terrain for something in particular.

“What is it? Did you hear something?”

Shaking your head, you made your way to a boulder and sat down. Jaskier watched, astonished, as you began removing your boots.

“Now, wait- Hang on!” His boots scraped along as he rushed to stand in front of you. His hands waved all over, trying to stop you without actually touching you. “You’re going to need those! Viper, wh- You don’t even know what size I am! Your boots might not fit! Or my boots might not fit you!”

His arguments fell on deaf ears as you slipped your feet out and rested them on the uncomfortable gravel. You pressed your boots to his chest as you stood, giving him no choice but to hold on to them and accept the gesture.

“Put them on. We’ll worry about new boots when we get into town.” You stepped out from in front of him, raising an eyebrow and waving a hand to the rock. “C’mon, Jaskier, my feet are hurting.”

He glanced down, realizing fully that you were barefoot up on a rocky mountain. He rushed to sit down and take off his boots so you’d have something to walk in. All the while, his mind ran rampant.

Had Geralt ever done anything this nice? Had Geralt ever done anything to help Jaskier? Anything that didn’t involve the bard’s near death, that is. The White Wolf never even let him touch his steed, no matter how long he had been walking or how much his feet ached. But you! You just took off your boots and gave them to him like it was such a simple thing. You didn’t even think twice about it, no matter how many complaints he brought up. Hell, he hadn’t even complained about his boots! You just noticed!

Another voice, less astonished but just as bitter toward his past companion, spoke up. They are not Geralt.

He handed over his boots, still in a daze by your altruism, and watched as you slipped them on without even sitting back down. You kicked the toe onto the ground, as if measuring how much space you had, before giving him a nod.

“Better?”

He slowly nodded. The boots felt odd on his feet, but he could already tell they were built for traveling. His, well, they were mostly for appearance.

“Good. Let’s keep going.”

-

Your feet were hurting by the time you reached the base of the mountain, but sweet relief was found in Bayard. The speckled horse had greeted you both with loud whinnies and dramatic head bobbing. Truth be told, the bard had no idea how to act around your horse; he had only really been on a horse once, and that was when he was dying from a genie attack. But once you saddled up the playful mount, you simply pulled him up on behind you, and off you went to the capital of Caingorn: Hengfors.

The first stop was to the first armorsmith you saw. You almost slid off the saddle before Bayard even had a chance to stop.

Once you were both saddled with new pairs of comfortable traveling boots (“You shouldn’t have to pay for my own boots, Viper!” “Please, Jaskier, it’s not like I’ll be done in by some shoes.”), you were falling back into one side of the large bed the single room provided. In fact, the boots cost more than anticipated. You were lucky to have a larger bed at all.

“Oh ho ho ho! You beauty!” Jaskier’s voice came from the corner of the room. You raised your head to see just exactly who, or rather, what he was praising. In the corner was a large bathtub, tucked away behind a screen divider for privacy. Steam wafted from the basin, already filled with hot water. “I have not bathed in days,” he groaned. He rushed to his bags and pulled out various bottles of oils. He practically dumped all of their strongly perfumed contents in.

You huffed out a laugh at his enthusiasm and dropped your head back to the bed. When was the last time you had a soft bed? Hm. Your eyes closed as you tried to recall. The water shifted and sloshed as Jaskier lowered himself in, all content hums and satisfied groans.

“Is that sandalwood?”

“Mhm.” He sighed, spreading out in the water and resting his head on the edge of the tub. “And vanilla.”

You were just glad he wasn’t beating himself up over Geralt, at the moment. “It smells nice.”

His head shifted to look at you. You looked quite peaceful, sprawled out on the bed where you landed. “You think so?”

You hummed, nodding. “I don’t get much chance to smell something sweet on my travels.”

“Hm.” He thought about something for a moment, but it truly did not take him long to come to a decision. “Feel free to use it then, if you’d like.” You heard water shifting as he gestured. “Wash away all that Witchery-ness.”

You grinned. It was sleepy. The soft, warm bed sheets were beginning to draw you in. “I wouldn’t wish to waste your expensive oils,” you said. “I would only squander them trying to cover up the stench of monster guts.”

“Besides,” you sat up with a yawn, dragging your body further up the bed until your head hit the pillow with a dull thud. You curled up onto your side, ignoring how uncomfortable your armor felt pressing against you. “I think it smells much nicer on you.”

You were asleep by the time he remembered how to speak.

-

Cold, but not alone, you woke up. You were back in the cellar. You turned to look at the boy in the darkness. Your hands were still desperately intertwined, fingertips blue and numb. His striking blue eyes were hidden behind pale eyelids. Something deep inside you knew already.

You squeezed his hands. They didn’t respond at all. Your hands slid out of his too easily. His hands remained open. Still. You cupped his face and turned it to you. His head was limp and heavy. Your hands, shaking with cold, felt warm compared to his skin.

The cellar door opened. The man didn’t even look around. The cellar was empty save for you and the cold corpse of the boy. He didn’t say anything. He just grabbed you by the back of your raggedy shirt and dragged you to the door. You kicked and screamed with what energy you had. Your fingers curled around the boy’s shirt. Your fingernails clawed into his pale skin. His body fell over the further you were pulled away. The man grabbed your wrists and ripped them away from the boy. You were crying. The cellar door shut.

The trip through the keep was a blur. In mere seconds to your child mind, you had gone from that dingy cellar to being strapped down to a table. All manner of things were fed and injected into you. You screamed just as loud as the children before you. Unlike a majority of them, however, you survived.

You woke up to a dark, empty room. Jaskier and his lute were nowhere to be seen, but the smell of sandalwood and vanilla lingered in the air. Sleeping in your armor may not have been the best idea, as the leather had dug lines into your skin and made your body much stiffer than it would have been normally after a nap.

You found yourself studying the darkest corners of the room.

The door slowly opened, creaking on its rusty hinges. Jaskier poked his head inside, but stopped trying to be sneaky once he saw you were awake.

“Ah, good! I,” he sang the word with pride as he sauntered inside, dropping his lute to the bed, “have just earned enough money for dinner.” To accentuate his point, he dropped a full coin purse onto your lap.

You opened the bag and looked inside. It was so full, coins pressing so tightly against each other, they barely made any noise. You raised an eyebrow at the amount. “And drinks.”

He waved his hands about. “Yes, well, I may have stopped by a few of the taverns around town.”

You looked up at him. He cracked under the pressure.

“Or, maybe, all of them.” He sighed, dropping to sit next to you on the bed. He gestured to his new boots. “You spent all yours on boots and a bed! I felt bad!”

You cinched up the purse and tossed it back over. “You go on without me. I’m not hungry.”

“You sure?”

You hummed. He stared at you, waiting for any reasons or excuses. You didn’t offer any. He sighed dramatically. “And what about all that ‘You need to eat, you need your strength’ talk?!” His lame impression of you had you grinning, even as your mind lingered on the past. “C’mon, Viper, just let me buy dinner! Or at least an ale!”

He was too damn persistent for his own good. But his dramatic enthusiasm was welcome. You rolled your eyes and agreed, with the half-baked excuse that you would only go for a drink and to look for contracts. You ended up eating more than you had in perhaps months.

---

Tag List:

@kmuir1

@writeawaythepain

[artxyra]

The Story Of How Marinette Became Mamie Mars

Marinette had been in the Bahamas enjoying her vacation when she received the phone call. It was Bruce. Upon hearing her son’s, in everything but blood, voice, she had sat up on her lounge chair and swing her legs to the side. 

Bruce couldn’t speak coherently. That’s how much he had worried her. It’s not often that she would get a call from a panicking Bruce, especially on her vacation. 

“Brucie, honey, calm down and speak clearly.” Her voice was sweet enough to calm her son down. “Is Alfred nearby you?” She asks, knowing that her son’s surrogate father would be close. Then again, Alfred was scheduled for his vacation soon. 

“No, he’s tending the reason why I’m calling you. I may or may not have taken in a ward.” Bruce tells her, sounding off. 

The words slowly register in her mind. 

“I have a grandchild.” She squeals, so glad that she was sitting down instead of standing up. It’s already embarrassing that her squeal reached the others at the beach. Had she been standing, she would be dancing along with the squeal had she been standing up. “Oh Bruce, tell me about them? How are they adjusting?” 

“That’s the problem, mom! I have no clue what to do. Can you come home? I rather explain all this to you in person rather than on the phone.” She can sense the longing and desperation in his voice. It warms her heart that he still needs her. 

“Of course, I’ll be on the next flight out of here. Is there anything else that you want to talk about?” 

Bruce murmurs a yes. And they go into a discussion more about business rather than the newest Wayne addition.  

As Marinette books a plane ticket for the last flight of the night, she couldn’t help but think about her son’s ward. Never have Bruce expressed any thought about having children due to him being Batman. Though, she herself has thought about taking in another child. However, Marinette’s ability to have her body age slowly has been a blessing and a curse and keeps her from going through with it. It’s a blessing because she has a chance to look younger and experience more but it’s a curse as it means that she’ll live longer and see the people she cares about dying before her. 

Nearly six hours after booking her flight, she is on a three-hour flight to New Jersey. Her vacation ended the second her butt touched the seat of the plane. It was a lovely time off from everything in Gotham, her ever-growing business dubbed Miracles Designs & Crafts, and her duties as the guardian of the Miraculous, but family always comes first. 

“Alfred! It’s so good to see you again.” Marinette wraps her arms around the man. He returns the hug. 

“I as well, Miss Marinette.” He responds once the embrace ends, taking her bags and loading them into the car. Marinette pouts; she could have done it herself, but she doesn’t say a word. 

The drive was sweet as the two begins to catch up. Alfred enjoyed hearing about her adventures outside of the United States. Though, he fears what Bruce will say about her travel to Tibet. 

“So, tell me Alfred, what are your thoughts on our son’s ward?” She inquires, looking out the window. The sky never changes in Gotham, but it certainly is a vast difference from the sunshine and clear skies that she was experiencing in the Bahamas. 

“He’s determined.” Alfred states with a glance at her in the rear window. Marinette nods and continues to look out the window. 

Meeting her grandchild could have gone many ways, but him winging on the chandelier was not something she was expecting. He seemed to be mourning, like him swinging on the chandelier was holding him together. 

Bruce sends the boy a quick word then escorts her to the living room. The second the door closes, Bruce breaks down what happened. The boy’s name is Richard Grayson, but he likes to go by Dick. Of course, Marinette gasps upon hearing that, as she has never been around a person who calls themselves Dick. And that he was a part of the circus with his family until their demise. Dick has no family outside of the circus. There was also a chance that he’ll be the target for a mob boss. 

After hearing the basics of Dick’s situation, all she wanted to do was hug the boy and give him lots of love. The same as she has done for Bruce. 

“When can I officially meet my grandson?” She questions with a smile on his face. Bruce rubs the back of his neck and sends her a sheepish smile. Wrapping his arms around his surrogate mother, he guides her towards the double doors. 

“Hi, I’m Marinette, but you can call me Mamie, if you want.”

Dick looks up at her, swaying in place, “Mamie?”

Marinette chuckles. “It’s one of the French versions of saying grandma.” 

“Cool, but you don’t look like you’re old enough to be a grandma.” Behind them, Bruce fails at holding in a chuckle. Marinette purses her lip and keeps her eyes on Dick, even though she wanted to send her son a glare. 

“Yeah, I do, but don’t be fooled. I practically raised Bruce since he was eight. Now, what do you like to do for fun?” She nudges him to talk about himself, hoping that it will help from sending him down a mourning spiral. 

Bruce disappears after that, hunting down the person that sabotaged the tightrope and giving Dick his closure. 

Once Dick is asleep, Marinette finds herself in the cave, watching her son’s nonstop researching process. 

“You know spending time with Dick would really make him feel welcome.” Marinette pulls up a seat and sits beside him. 

“I can’t.  Zucco is out there, and if I can’t find him before he leaves Gotham…” Bruce trails off, turning his attention back to the screen. 

Marinette shakes her head, “At least try and get to know Dick before you do something stupid. There’s only so much that I can do, but I wasn’t the one that took him in, Bruce.” Marinette turns to Alfred and gestures her head towards Bruce. 

“I saw that, mom.” Marinette scoffs then gets out of her seat. “I promise that I’ll hang out with Dick before all this is over.” 

“And somehow, that doesn’t make me feel that much better. He’s your problem now, Alfie.” Marinette takes her to leave, grabbing a cup of tea from Alfred before leaving the Batcave.  

“Joy.” Alfred sighs, but there was an underlying hint of love there. 

Life with Dick in the household was an interesting transition, especially for Marinette. Usually, when she's here, it’s silent, as Bruce is either working as Batman or being for Wayne Enterprise. The only sounds were her and Alfred talking during their afternoon tea sessions. With Dick, the manor is full of laughter and ambitious feet, running around; practically, Mimicking the sounds of the past. 

With Marinette in the house, Dick didn’t feel so alone. Even though he didn’t have it in him to call Bruce dad yet, he'd definitely called Marinette Mamie on more than one occasion. When it first happened, she cried. Poor Dick, he thought she was upset or something. That day, she took them out for ice cream and to the gymnasium. 

Marinette did not hide her disdain when Dick became Robin. There were a lot of baked goods in the kitchen from her stress baking. It got so bad that Alfred had to ban her from the kitchen. 

Of course, once she did become comfortable with the idea of Dick out crime-fighting, she places strict rules in place so that Dick wasn’t out late at night on a school day or dealing with highly classed villains. Marinette had her fair share of fighting crime as a child, and she did not want to place that down on Dick. 

On top of that, she refused to have Dick going out at night in underwear in the name of pants. That was a big no-no in this household. 

Bonus: 

“Mamie Mars, has there ever been a time you benched Bruce?” Dick asks one day while Marinette was helping him with his homework. 

Marinette thinks for a moment. “Yes, it was within his first year of being Batman, actually. He challenged me and you know how I am when challenge, Dickie. Gotham was without their hero, excuse me, vigilante for about a month. Ladybird sure had a fun time in his stead.” She chuckles at the memory, causing Dick’s eyes to widen. He quickly finishes the rest of his homework.

-----------

Masterlist | Maribat Masterlist | Tagging System |

*THIS STORY COLLECTION WILL NOT HAVE A TAG LIST, PLEASE DO NOT ASKED TO BE TAGGED.*

[its-me-im-coraline]

Temporary Bliss // Damiano David // Playlist series

words // 1441

warnings // lots of angst fuck, mentions of sex

pairing // Damiano David x GN!Reader

author's note // here's my taglist, add your name loves. this took a while till i finally made it but now that i did i feel kind of proud haha

requested // yes, here

summary // Damiano and reader have a friends with benefits relationship but Damiano has caught feelings. This is what happens when one of them denies the truth.

2.15 AM, Saturday

The clock had struck quarter past two, yet one more night the two were entangled in sheets, hands all over each other and bodies united. Damiano was kissing up and down their body with so much adoration. Soft kisses around the neck and that one very specific spot behind their ear, soft caresses of the waist and chaste kisses all over those lips; those wonderful lips Damiano was dreaming of asleep and awake alike.

They had come over again in one of those infamous “late night emergencies”, all too eager to be assisted by Y/N. Truth be told the man had feelings. It had taken him a while to understand but he had caught feelings for the wonderful person; for his nightly endeavour. It was not part of the plan, not a part of the agreement they had. Well, technically there was no agreement, they never specified a thing.

In that moment he found himself on his knees, hands roaming Y/N's body as his lips traveled all over their legs, dangerously close to where they wanted him most, and man did he want it too. His kisses were sloppy hands rough while touching their body. "You taste like heaven," he commented while finally giving some pleasure.

"Mhm, I know. You tell me that a lot, " they responded, a taunting smirk on their face.

The man was utterly fucked at these words. He knew he should not be doing this any more, he knew that very well, but being here with them was an addiction; an addiction worse than nicotine and drugs. No escape, no way out -at least not an easy one. Thus Damiano continued his moves, fucking them with all he had in him, taking his frustrations out just like they did.

“That was fucking amazing,” Y/N would say every time, this time being no exception. They meant what they said, and it’s what drove Damiano back again and again and again… All in hopes that one day the feelings he had would be reciprocated.

He was not even sure when these feelings began. Somewhere between the four to six month mark of this whole situationship. That’s when he noticed, that is. He was sitting there, watching them get dressed -it was the very rare occasion that they had stayed over- just so calm, so soft. Damiano knew then that he would not mind this being a common occurance -waking up to them in the morning.

6.26 AM, Saturday

The clock was now indicating twenty six minutes past six. Y/N decided they had overstayed their welcome, thinking the best idea was to get away from the dark room.

Clothes were scattered all around, their underwear lost somewhere in the mess, making their smooth escape all the harder. They did not want to open up the light, in fear of waking the sleeping man, and the half open blinds provided only a fragment of sun - not that there was a lot to begin with. At the time they were leaving the sun was not even fully up yet, although it was going to be soon.

Only cowards leave before the sun even rises, their friend had joked once, but maybe she was right.

Y/N was only leaving out of fear. The fear of catching feelings. Oh boo hoo you big baby. Such a great fear you got there, they’d say to themselves, but deep inside they did know how big of a fear it was. They never meant to hurt Damiano but they could not allow themselves to get hurt instead.

With a last glance towards a sleeping Damiano, Y/N walked out the room.

11.30 AM, Saturday

A yawn was the first thing to be heard in the spacey bedroom that morning. The man had woken up by his phone going off with a call.

“What,” said the man (knowing very well who was calling him at this hour), another yawn escaping his lips.

“Good morning to you too,” joked Thomas, “get up, dolcezza. Ethan and I are coming to get you. He says he wants to do something nice for us today. If you ask me, he just got bored of his latest hook up and is now lone- hey hey don’t hit me!”

“I don’t know if I can,” he mumbled, turning around on the bed, only now realizing that it has been empty, and for some time. “Nevermind. Give me half an hour.”

“Are you ok, Damiano?” Thomas was genuinely concerned by his friend’s tone. He did not sound very eager before, but now… Now he was disappointed.

“Yes-yeah, it’s nothing,” he replied, dragging his hand down his face, “just call when you’re almost here.”

“Alright!”

He was truly hurt by the absence of his… well, they were not really something to him, but oh how he wished they were. There was no point to this dismay, and he knew, but this empty and sorrowful feeling could simply not be helped.

With that thought he got up to get ready, knowing very well his friends would not be happy if they arrived and he was not done.

12.58 AM, Monday

The same all distinctive ringtone came from Damiano’s phone, the screen lighting up. The name displayed on the screen let the man know exactly what it was about. He knew what they called for again and he was so done with it. He was going to end it once and for all.

“Hello.”

“Damiano,” they cried. Something was wrong, great, thought Damiano.

“What’s up baby,” he questioned in a moment of weakness. Damn addiction.

“I’m just not feeling alright… Can I come over?” The singer was not sure anymore… Not sure if these tears were real or fake, but he simply could not just leave them alone when they were crying. If something was really bothering him and he was not there to help when asked for it, Damiano would be beating himself up for days on end.

“Sure. Give me a bit.”

One last time, he thought and hung up.

3.23 AM, Friday

Last time this happened it was for comfort, it was a way of comforting their violent thoughts. Damiano was done with those excuses and reasons, he was done with this ordeal. Too far, he thought, it has gotten too far.

“Stop it,” he said as he answered the phone.

“What?”

“I said stop it, Y/N!” He had grown frustrated with them and their late night needs.

“I did not do anything-”

“Agh,” he groaned exasperated, “you can’t fucking see it, can you?”

This had to end, and now. He was not willing to put up with it any longer. He could not continue on this temporary bliss, he wanted something more, something stable. They either hopped on this train together or they would part ways.

“Damiano wha-”

“I can’t do this any more, Y/N,” he breathed out. “I don’t know what you are feeling here (cause you don’t ever tell me!) but I-I am in love with you. I can’t just hook up and then act that those feelings don’t exist. So, I will ask once: what are you feeling about me?” He was thorough, sharp, leaving no room for persuasion. He truly just wanted to be done with the uncertainty and the pain.

“I… I can’t do this right now, Damiano,” they said, abruptly hanging up the phone, leaving a hurt Damiano to process what just happened.

6.49 PM, Thursday

“And they just hung up?” Thomas was shocked at the revelation.

“Yeah… They didn’t say anything, just… It kind of stings,” Damiano confessed. That phone call had hurt him much more than he ever thought it would. After the call he could not sleep all night, sleep would just mock him every time he tried. He found it hard to move out of bed or do anything else. He just sat there, staring at the ceiling and attempting to figure out what had just gone down.

Yet another conversation was interrupted by Damiano’s ringtone. It had started disturbing him now - this ringtone - considering the phone calls he had gotten recently.

Unknown number. A blocked number, huh. He was unsure of whether he should answer it, but after a second he did. But as he heard the voice on the other end of the line he started regretting it.

“Damiano,” said the wavering voice. They were crying, that much he could tell.

“Y/N?” Agh, don’s show worry, Damiano, keep it together. But he knew very well that was impossible.

“I- I am sorry. Can we talk?”

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11 @teenyweenynightghost @superchrystaldrug

playlist fics tag list: @cheese-toastie-11

[qianinterprises]

WayV Reaction: finding out their S/O has Borderline Personality Disorder

Pairing(s): WayV x Reader Genre: angst, fluff Warnings: mention of mental health, depression, anxiety, symptom's included in BPD. Trigger Warnings: depression, anxiety, hostility, mention's of self-harm, self-doubt, low self-image Word Count: 3.9k

Author's Notes: I'll be honest and say that I had to research Borderline Personality Disorder. I knew what it was/had heard of it before, but in order to write something accurate, I tried to educate myself. If you believe that you have BPD, please don't be afraid to go to a doctor or a trusted friend/family member. Your mental health is important.

Author's Note 2.0: I also want to mention that (as per earlier request), I am also working on a YangYang fic that features a reader with Borderline Personality Disorder. I'm not entirely sure when it will be posted (soon hopefully), but it is in my WIP's.

Author's Note 2.0: Kun's is a little different, I apologize for the difference and the shortness. Tagging:@treasuretaeil

Kun:

Kun was in the middle of dance practice when his phone began to ring. At first, he let it go to voicemail, but by the third ring, Ten paused the music and Kun grabbed his phone out of his coat pocket, expecting to see your name popping up on the screen. You were at home today after a particularly rough week at work that had left you feeling spent. Kun longed to be home with you, holding you tight in his embrace. As his eyes met your next door neighbor's name on his phone screen, his stomach dropped. Mrs. Huang only called when it was really serious. "Hello?" he asked into the receiver. "Oh thank goodness!" she cried, voice laced with anxiety enducing agitation. "What's wrong?" "It's (y/n)! They've brought me five big tins of muffins! I can't possibly eat all of these! And they've gone to the store twice with ingredients! I think something's wrong! Kun sighed. This morning, you had been so happy. You were practically singing to the birds. He knew it wouldn't last though, especially with the week you'd had. "I'll be there soon!" Kun left practice without another word and when he got home, he found you in the kitchen, covered in flour, vigorously mixing a creamy liquid in one of your metal mixing bowls. The kitchen was covered in ingredients; flour puffed on the counters and floor, broken egg shells on the table, a half empty measuring cup of milk teetering on top of the fridge. It was bad this time. Kun knew you had borderline personality disorder. It had been something you'd told him in the beginnings of your relationship. He had seen you at your worst, and at your best, but it still broke his heart every time he witnessed you at a breaking point. "(y/n)?" You paused in your vigorous mixing, eyes glancing up to meet his. He didn't say anything, eyes locked on yours, but his eyes held no pity. Instead, they held pure, unfiltered love that had you putting the whisk aside. "Do you love me?" you whispered. A small wisp of a smile reflected across his face as he crossed the room, arms wrapping around your body. "More than anything," he whispered.

Ten:

You and Ten had only been together for a short amount of time; three months to be exact. It was an exhilarating three months. Time you wouldn't give for anything in the world, even though you didn't get to see each other often with Ten's very busy schedule. However, after the "Kick Back" album released, WayV was allowed to take a break as SM turned their attention to the scheduled release of NCT Dream's first album. Normally, Ten would then be whisked away for some SuperM promotion, but with Baekhyun's enlistment, SuperM was also allowed to take a break as the company decided what to do. Which ultimately meant you got to spend more time with your boyfriend, which, most would deem as a good thing and, you were happy he was there, however, it became a lot harder to hide your little secret from him. Your best friend, Kun, had introduced you to Ten (and the rest of the members), when Kun officially became a member of NCT. Kun and Ten had immediately hit it off as friends, which meant you also spent a lot of time with Ten, thus leading to a blossoming friendship and later attraction. So Ten lying in your bed snoring softly wasn't that far of a stretch from a common day encounter. The difference was, today, you didn't feel like yourself. Being in a friendship with Ten meant that, yes, you saw him often, but not often enough that you couldn't keep parts of yourself private. Which is exactly what you did, especially as your tiny crush on Ten grew into something mutual, eventually leading to a relationship. The truth you were so afraid of revealing was your disorder. Borderline Personality Disorder. A disorder you'd been diagnosed with since you were a your teenager. You'd been teased and bullied for it when a classmate you'd once called a friend announced your disorder to the entire school. This, in turn, had terrified you of ever telling anyone, which you had gotten away with. Ten didn't know and, if you had it your way, he'd never know. He was an idol. What did he need with a girlfriend with this disorder. However, with him hanging around a lot... "Hey? What's wrong?" Ten's voice snapped you from your thoughts. You'd been so distracted you hadn't realized his soft snoring had ceased. "Nothing," you said softly. His lips pursed, perplexed as he softly reached a hand up to brush across your cheek, something he'd done several times. But today, you didn't want it. You shied away from his hand, curling yourself up on the opposite side of the bed, cursing yourself for acting different than usual, but you couldn't help it. Ten didn't bat an eye. He simply gave you a soft smile and sat up in the large bed, but he didn't try to touch you again. "Feeling sad today?" he asked. You nodded meekly. "Would you like to talk about it?" he asked. You paused for a moment to think it over. You truly didn't. You wished you could keep it a secret forever, because Ten might leave you. But you also knew that the stress was taking it's toll on you. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder..." you whispered. He didn't say anything at first and you were preparing yourself for him to call you a freak and leave. Instead, he stretched his arm out and softly wrapped his pinky around yours. "I don't know much about it. But I promise I will learn," he whispered. Tears brimmed your eyes because finally, someone wasn't going to leave you.

WinWin:

You had never been much of a touchy person. Holding hands was one thing, and even then, something you weren't wholly comfortable with, but hugging was completely different. You didn't care much for hugs, especially from complete strangers that often found you rude for rejecting their hug. You barely even hugged your own family, let alone a total stranger. This was possibly what spurred on your relationship with Sicheng who, also didn't care much for physical affection, despite the fact the other members of NCT practically drowned him in it. Your relationship was just... different. At least in the minds of society because you didn't cuddle against Sicheng's chest constantly or plop down on his lap just because he was sitting down. Instead, you preferred wrapping your pinky around his or draping one of his sweaters over your shoulders. This worked for the two of you though others found it strange. However, there was an anomaly that Sicheng, though you had been together for a little over two years, had no idea about. This anomaly included the fact that sometimes, you liked hugs. Sometimes, all you wanted to do was drape yourself over your boyfriends lap and let him hold you until your mind screamed at you for the overload of affection. Sometimes you wanted him to wrap his arms around you in bed and fall asleep with you on his chest. That's what happens when you have Borderline Personality Disorder, and it wouldn't have been that big of a deal if Sicheng had known, but he didn't. It started out you longing to keep it a secret in the early days of your relationship. It wasn't something you advertised very often. However, as your relationship progressed, you knew you should have told him, but as five months turned into six, it became a crushing weight of guilt for not telling him in the beginning. Sicheng had already invested a lot of time and love in the relationship when you had not been wholly honest with him. And the more time that passed, the harder it was for you to get the words out. At this point, it wasn't even your fear of rejection because of the disorder, it was a nagging fear that your dishonesty about the disorder would drive him away from you. That would truly be a crushing point. However, as Sicheng began spending more nights at your apartment, it was getting increasingly harder to hide, especially as your mood dropped or when you suddenly began to crave affection. Times like today. The moment you'd rolled out of bed, you knew you needed some type of affection, but as Sicheng made no advance to give it to you throughout the day, your mood dropped. It really wasn't his fault. He had no idea how you were feeling, but as you finally had had enough and wrapped your arms around him from behind while he was washing the dishes after dinner, you felt him stiffen before grabbing a towel to dry his hands. "What's up with you today?" The question was an honest one, but it still felt as though you were making him uncomfortable by touching him. As your arms slacked from around him, a tear sprang to your eye but you were quick to wipe it away as he turned to face you. "I need to tell you something..." Your voice was wavering. You had no idea how he would respond. He nodded for you to continue, one of his hands gently taking hold of yours, playing with your fingers as a soft sense of relief washed through you. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder." His once blank face morphed into one of confusion. "What's that?" he asked tentatively. You sighed. You had been expecting the question but that didn't make it any easier to define. "Its like having mood swings. One day I feel happy the other sad... Sometimes anti-hugs, sometimes super affectionate." You could tell he was still confused, but as he nodded and wrapped his arms around your body, drawing you against his tall frame, you let out a shuddered breath, body relaxing against him.

Lucas:

Books were never Yukhei's strong suit. He preferred numbers and basic information plotted out clearly in front of him. Books were too all over the place with too much information. He wished they could be like websites that gave him the briefest of explanations with a "read more" feature. Yet here he was, flipping through slightly crinkled pages because he wanted to truly understand, and books were always credited with having the most information. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder," you had explained earlier that day when you had ducked out of the way of one of his mega bear hugs and proceeded to slump your shoulders and beg him to give you time alone. You'd locked yourself in your shared bedroom after that and, although you had texted him to apologize for your behavior, you added that today was just an off day, your disorder really affecting your mood. "Well how can I help?" he had asked. It was your response that prompted him here, pouring over books in the local library hoping to find anything that would help him understand Borderline Personality Disorder in the best way possible. As he flipped through pages and learned, he had begun to feel several different emotions. On one end, he felt sorry that you'd had to go through the disorder alone, but on the other, he questioned why you'd never told him, even after a year of being together. However, a big part of him wondered if maybe you had been telling him, just without words, especially because you'd never tried to hide any of your mood swings. He'd just always assumed you were on your period. As the hours ticked away, Yukhei's eyes remained glued to the startlingly dry books stacked up around him, but as he learned more about the disorder and, by default, more about you, he couldn't seem to stop. At least not until his phone vibrated in his pocket and, as he fished it out, your smiling face met his eyes. He answered the facetime request and gave you a tired smile that quickly morphed into concern when he noticed your bloodshot eyes. "Baby? What's wrong? Did something happen?" "My boyfriend left me! That's what happened!" Were you... pouting? "I didn't leave baby, I'm at the library." Confusion flashed across your face. "Why?" "To learn more about Borderline Personality Disorder." A giggle erupted from your lips and Yukhei sure was glad to hear it, especially after reading texts about BPD leading to depression. "Why didn't you just google it?" His mouth gaped open as he dramatically clutched his chest. "Googling something so important in my significant other's life?! That's scandalous! I should do enough research to write my own 20-page essay!" This time, it was a full blown laugh. "You're a dork!" "I'm your dork!" "Well come home, dork! There's a lot we have to discuss!" Your smiling face alleviated any fears that may have been swirling around Yukhei's chest. With a nod, he slammed a book shut so hard it send a loud, slamming bang throughout the library, prompting nasty looks sent his way. Sheepishly, he waved them off and stood up. "I'll be home soon," he promised, blowing you a kiss before hanging up. Yukhei had taken the hastily thrown news a lot better than you'd expected. You knew he couldn't have learned everything, specifically because it varied person to person, but you knew that he would be there for you, even on your bad days. And that was all you could ask for.

Xiaojun:

Dejun was incredibly perceptive, even if he was incredibly dumb sometimes. He could tell when you weren't quite feeling yourself, even though he often didn't know what was causing it. It was at those times that he did everything he could to put a smile back on your face and make you feel "normal" again. He didn't understand how counter productive that actually was. It was really your fault. You were the one keeping secrets, but as the smile fell from your face the second Dejun traded the couch for the shower, you couldn't help but think that maybe he simply preferred you to be happy rather than deal with you when you weren't. Somewhere in the back of your head, you knew he was just doing what he thought would help, but now, especially in your state of mind, you couldn't shake the aching feeling in your head. "Hey, are there towels- are you crying?" Dejun's voice yanked you out of your thoughts and you brought your hands to your cheeks, rapidly trying to wipe away the clear droplets painting your face, but it was too late. Dejun had already seen. He was shirtless when he perched on the couch beside you, face etched in concern. He opened his mouth, likely to retort off some lame dad joke or tell you some funny story you'd heard a thousand times. "Can you not?" You hadn't meant to snap. The words had simply flown out before you'd had the chance to them. His face fell into a pout that you knew you often fell for, but today, it only upset you more. "Stop Dejun!" The pout fell away. "Stop what? I'm not doing anything!" "You're trying to make me smile!" He blinked, staring at you for a moment. "That's a bad thing?!" You sighed, slumping against the couch cushions, resigning yourself to the fact that he didn't understand. Then again, you didn't let him understand. "Just tell me why I'm upsetting you," he begged, all traces of bad humor gone, replaced with sincerity. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder! My mood fluctuates! And when you try to make me smile when I'm sad or mad makes me feel like you don't like me when I'm not always happy. But I can't always be happy." He stared at you in shock for a moment, mouth opening and closing as if he didn't know how to respond. An appropriate response, you supposed. You'd been friends for a while now and dating for several months, yet this was the first time you'd told him. You were about to get up from the couch, sighing as he didn't respond after several minutes, when he placed a hand on your thigh to stop you. "Why didn't you tell me?" You shrugged. It wasn't that simple. "Can you tell me the best ways to comfort you?" Again, you shrugged. A sigh released from his mouth and your head hung low. "I'm going to do some research. As your boyfriend, I want to make sure I'm making you feel better, not worse. So, while I'm doing that, I also need you to tell me if something I'm doing is making you feel worse. Can you do that for me?" His words were sincere, his intentions true. Another tear fell from your eye, dropping against your cheek, but a smile broke out across your face. "Thank you for caring," you whispered. He pulled you onto his lap and pressed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck. "Always."

Hendery:

Waking up this morning had been such a struggle, even as the delightful scent of your boyfriends cooking wafted under the cracks of the door, greeting you. Usually, this would rouse you from your slumber, prompting you to creep into the kitchen and sneak a taste of the delightful breakfast. Today, however, you rolled over in the blankets and pulled the duvet over your head. Today was a lay in bed day, you just hoped your boyfriend would accept that. "Come on sleepy head! It's time to wake up!" Kunhang's annoyingly chipper voice spouted, pulling you from the confines of sleep in a less pleasant way. "No," you groaned, rolling over, burying your face deeper into the pillow. "Come on! Breakfast is ready!" He pulled the blankets off your body and you let out a loud hiss, eyes turning to bore into him. "I said no!" He dropped the blanket and backed off, lifting his hands in surrender, but you could tell he had questions. You never acted like this. "What's wrong?" You grunted, not responding, turning away from him, but he wasn't having it. "Yah! I asked you a question!" he pouted at being ignored. A growl whipped it's way from your throat. "Go look up BPD," you snapped. You could tell that he had more questions, but, after a long moment, he seemed to think better of asking them and, instead, made his way out of the room, leaving you to fall back asleep. It had to have been a few hours later when you were waking up on your own this time, the anger you had felt earlier completely gone now, replaced with your normal, chipper self. You turned over to look at Kunhang's side, releasing he wasn't there and the memories came flooding back to you along with a strong wave of guilt. You shouldn't have treated Kunhang the way you did. There was nothing out of the ordinary with the way he'd reacted to your sleeping for. With a sigh, you threw your legs over the side of the bed and stood up, padding over the floors to the door. You made your way out of the bedroom and down the hall, finding Kunhang sitting on the couch, television with the volume turned down, playing some movie he didn't look too interested in. As the floor creaked slightly under your feet, his attention shifted from the television to you and he was quick to shut off the device. "How are you feeling?" he asked. Your heart dropped into your stomach. Had you really affected him? "I'm sorry for how I reacted..." you mumbled. A sigh rolled past his lips as he patted the couch next to him. You made your way to him, flopping beside him, but keeping your distance, at least until he pulled you against his side. "I understand why you did after looking up Borderinel Personality Disorder," he said. "But you couldn't have expected me to know without knowing." With a nod, you hung your head. "Why didn't you tell me?" "I thought you wouldn't like me if you knew I had a disorder..." you mumbled. Saying it out loud, it felt ridiculous. You knew he loved you. The fact that he waited for you to wake up even after how you'd treated him proved that. But it had been a fear nevertheless. "Now that I know, I can help you rather than making things worse. But in the future, please let me know. I hated watching you so upset without knowing how to help." You leaned against him, burying your face in his chest as you nodded.

YangYang:

(full fic coming soon) YangYang's youth was what truly scared you the most. He still had so much to learn. He was so naive, about some things at least. He could make you feel so good, so loved, when he'd hold you in his arms and kiss your head or when he threw himself across your lap and begged to be pet. You were scared that the second he knew the truth about you, he'd leave, or worse, treat you differently. Your older brother, Kun, had advised you to just be honest with him. To let him know when you had bad days. Yet, here you were, hiding out in your brothers bed, hoping practice would run late so YangYang wouldn't see your crestfallen face. It seemed luck wasn't on your side that day, not entirely anyway, because the door to the room opened and Kun walked in half shirtless, belt unbuckled. "Please don't strip anymore," you'd begged. The boy nearly jumped out of his skin at your words. "(y/n)?! What are you doing here?!" "I missed Yang..." "So why didn't you come to practice? You know you're welcome." Your silence was his answer and he sighed, sliding on another, not sweat-soaked shirt, and sat on the bed beside you, reaching out to gently stroke your arm. "You really should tell him," he whispered. "But what if he rejects me?" "He won't. Sis, I know him. He's not like some dirtbags you've dated in the past. And he might just be able to help you better than I can," he whispered. You knew he was right. He was always right (as annoying as it was). "Will you send him here? I don't want to get out of bed..." "Of course," he said, patting your arm one more time before getting out of bed and making his way out of the room. It was a few minutes later when a sweaty YangYang walked in, searching for your figure before sitting down beside you on Kun's bed. "You wanted to see me?" he asked. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder..." The words just rushed out before you could stop them, but you were thankful. This saved you from yourself. For a long moment, YangYang didn't say anything and you were beginning to think Kun had been wrong for once. "So that's why Kun had me do all that research..." Ok, that definitely wasn't what you were expecting. "Not long after we started dating, Kun made me do all this research on BPD. He even quizzed me once a week! I just assumed it was punishment for dating his sister!" A loud laugh fell past your lips. That was absolutely something Kun would do!

"Are you mad I didn't tell you?" you asked.

"Well, why didn't you?"

"I was afraid you'd leave me like my exes..."

"Then yes, I'm mad!" he said.

Your face dropped.

"I'm sorry..."

"I'll just have to teach you a lesson!"

With that, he threw himself on top of you, pressing his sweaty clothes against you as you shrieked, attempting to get away.

"Guys... not on my bed..."

[razorblade180]

Interdimensional Moms pt3

Part 2 right here! <-

Team RWBY continue their interesting chat about their respective worlds. After the emotional roller coaster that was Weiss’s, a bit of light hearted stories would be welcomed.

Yang:Okay, does anyone have some real feel good things to talk about for their world? Just run of the mill pleasant life?

Ruby:Guess I’m going last....

Yang:Oh no!

Weiss:We’ll circle back to you then. Blake, I guess you’re up.

Blake:Wouldn’t you want calmer stuff at the end?

Yang:Blake, I would very much like to go at least ten minutes without wanting to cry.

Blake:Hmmmm I can guarantee you like...six I think.

Yang:I’ll take it! Blake Belladonna, tell me about a world where you and Jaune Arc are happily married. How did such stars align?

Blake:You make it sound crazy?

Weiss:Blake, there’s list of people I could see you with. Now I’m not saying Jaune couldn’t be one of them, but he’d have to fight his way up that list.

Blake:You...that’s kinda fair. It’s a bit hard to explain really. It happened back at Beacon initially, or our bonding did. Some days his team was busy and I didn’t tag along for the crazy antics you three wanted to do all the time, so we occasionally bumped into each by circumstances. He’d go to the library for a book, I’d do training and he was there, or sometimes he’d knock on our door and not realize I was the only one around.

Weiss:Was he trying to sing to me?

Blake:That plan did show up at our a few times, yes. One of those times I asked him out of nowhere to sing the song anyways because I just had to know if it was any good. Hehe, it wasn’t sonically pleasing at times, but you could tell it was genuine. Eventually though...he just sort of gave up on you. It was actually a little sad to see, even you thought so. It was strange. Jaune was definitely stumbling through his flirting and it came off as childish, yet the day he gave up, it was easy to see his heart was breaking a bit. Like all his insecurities ate even the faux confidence away.

Yang:Ma’am, it has barely been three minutes and I’m getting sad about thinking of Jaune being sad.

Weiss:Yeah don’t tell me I broke his heart!

Blake:Whoops, sorry. It’s important though. Jaune kinda kept to himself a little more after that. He still chatted pretty regularly but it was easy to tell he dived more in studies as a way to keep his head clear, which lead to us being on a project together. I was the only person in our friend group that wouldn’t actively try to make him open up about how he feeling. At first I thought it was a bit rude when he told me that, but I didn’t room to talk when it comes to socializing.

Yang:One more time for the people in the back.

Ruby:I’m the back.

Blake:*smirks* I was very against socializing about my feelings at Beacon.

Ruby:Yeah you were.

Weiss:I couldn’t even ask if you slept well without a lukewarm answer sometimes.

Blake:I’m better now. That’s all that matters. Romance and feeling love is a personal thing and talking about it is uncomfortable. I think we both recognized that in each other during our project. Trouble is, there’s only so many conversation starters and small talk subjects. Talking only about the project was dry and eventually all the facts a person could say about themselves ran out. Favorite food, color, hobbies, etc. We eventually had to dig a little deeper into those topics. To our surprise, we actually more in common than we thought when it came to how we felt about certain pieces of literature and music.

Ruby:Awwww, bonding over smut.

Blake:*red* It wasn’t all adult literature! Some were poems and stuff. Even when the project ended, we began being less formal around each other and hanging out. We went to the bookstores we mentioned and he even got us tickets to bands I liked. It...it was nice. I never really got to have just a normal teenage experience before without it being political. He always felt bad about being average compared to everyone but average was so foreign to me that I welcomed it. I liked having a normal time out. It was a thing we all took for granted. Especially when Beacon fell.

Yang:Yeah, that probably put a real bind on your relationship.

Blake:Actually....we technically never officially started to date.

Ruby:What? You courted each other all of Beacon.

Weiss:Ruby, who the heck says courted? I’m a Schnee and even I have never used the word courted.

Ruby:Hush, I read a lot of bed time stories to a five year old.

Blake:We were a bit shaky on labels. Me for obvious reasons. As for Jaune, it’s really true about what they say about guys when they get heart broken.

Yang: “Never again.”

Blake:Hehehe, it’s funny to look back at it but he’ll tell you it’s a bit cringy. He was so on gaurd. I could tell all the time when he was mentally telling himself to not be excited whenever we hung out or I complimented him.

Ruby:Hey it takes guts to shift feelings to a teammate of your first crush. That could blow up in your face.

Blake:Yeah...about that. *looks at Yang* you...were another reason why nothing was official. You uhhh, we actually had some jumbled up emotions.

Weiss:*sarcastic gasp* You and Yang, liking each other? Who could’ve seen that coming?

Yang:Was it mutual or...

Blake:Very mutual. Also...intimate at times.

Yang:*red* Oh....yeah. Yeah that tracks.

Blake:That jumbled mess was only more confusing after you got hurt trying to rescue me from Adam. Meeting up with-

Ruby:Question, so was Sun just not on your radar?

Blake:Sun? We’re just friends. He’s cute and I’m glad he was there for me when I needed help but things between us were always pretty calm. I think he noticed how confused I was with other people in my life and chose to not add to it.

Ruby:Bless him. Please continue.

Blake:Learning about Salem and reconnecting with you all was a lot. I’d really been out of the loop and my Yang and I were on....shaky ground.

Yang:That’s what happens when you leave someone who’s been left their entire life.

Blake:Sigh...yeah. It was a trying time, but not with JNPR. It’s funny, Oscar and I also hit it off quite well from the jump. I think we were both glad to have each other learn on the craziness at once. Even with readjusting, Jaune and I fell back into a groove naturally. Instead of doing average things we day dreamed of the things we did. Once again we become this little slice of simple life in this crazy adventure. Still didn’t date.

Weiss:What is this, a slow burn!?

Yang:Weiss, you literally didn’t date your Jaune until Atlas.

Weiss:There’s a difference. I didn’t make any heart eyes at him until around Atlas. I say I may have been a little quick. These two were “courting” for over a year at this point.

Ruby:Stop making fun of me!

Blake:Well anyways, I wouldn’t say much was too eventful in terms of romance with world destroying things happening. Salem, she was way too much to deal with. Every move age did was calculated and unrelenting. Keeping our head above water wasn’t easy. In fact, it was boarder line impossible. Yang and I barely beat Adam after all.

Yang:How’d you two feel about that?

Blake:Relieved. Huge weight off my mind, and yet...a piece of me still wishes things never got so dire. At least now I know that in another world, things aren’t.

Ruby:Sounds like your world was put through their paces? You survived though.

Blake:Not conventionally. I gotta say, hearing the ages and how you beat Salem so far makes me feel more than a little embarrassed. To be frank, we didn’t have this grand battle that involved the entire world making a final stand. We had Atlas, and then we had Haven. With their might and a plan to gain more time, we managed to seal Salem in a vault.

Yang:*chokes on water* Y- cough what!?

Ruby:You put her in a vault!?

Weiss:Thah sounds harder than a last stand honestly.

Blake:No matter what way we looked at things, we just weren’t ready for her, so we locked her away until we were. Two years on constant defense from her followers and grimm until Ruby had trained enough to use her silver eyes and we were all strong enough.

Ruby:Two years!? How old was I then?

Blake:Twenty I believe.

Weiss:Hey, you beat mine by a year.

Yang:Not mine, I think we either tied or just narrowly beat yours by like a year. Honestly it hard to keep track of birthdays and stuff.

Ruby:Wow. No offense to myself, but that’s a little disappointing. I guess being the same person really doesn’t mean we were all at the same level.

Blake:Hey, my Ruby put everything she had into saving the world. There wasn’t a second she wasn’t trying her best to defend it!

Ruby:My point exactly. If that was her at her absolute best then by all accounts, she doesn’t hold a candle to me; at least back then anyways. But I have no reason to believe she would be at my level now.

Yang:Okay little miss prideful, care to tell us when you saved the-

Ruby:Seventeen.

The reaper took a long swig of coffee while the others processed that information. It took a her a couple of seconds to realize she may be acting just a tad bit arrogant.

Ruby:Uhh, sorry. I think I was tooting my own horn a bit there.

Weiss:Seventeen....why so soon?

Yang:Why? Don’t you mean how?

Blake:That’s....almost unbelievable.

Ruby:Really? I don’t think so. I’ll dive into it when it’s my turn but for now all I really gotta say is people needed help, and I was going to answer those cries. I bet your Ruby had a similar urgency in her, but for some reason or another just had different limitations. I got hurt a lot as a kid. Maybe an injury did more damage in one universe than another? Who can say?

Blake:I...wouldn’t know. Odd, I know if my Ruby heard this, then she’d probably be more than a little upset. Saving lives is still what she’s all about. I know when she put everything she had into fighting Salem when the day came. All that training paid off. Her skills were polished and her silver eyes eradicated the grimm essence in Salem.

Ruby:Wait, she’s not dead?

Blake:No. Salem roams Remnant with Oz keeping an eye on her until one day she can finally grasp the lesson the gods wanted her to have.

Yang:That uhhh sounds risky.

Weiss:Yet oddly okay?

Blake:Funny, my Weiss said that too. Those two get checked on in secret. Can’t be too careful. With Salem beaten though, Remnant entered a state of...let’s call it average chaos. All in all, it’s way more peaceful but you know, people will be people. Downside about a secret war is you don’t get the unity of the masses. Atlas and Haven working together was still a great step in the right direction though.

Yang:Woah, I’m a little jealous. My world felt like a race against the clock. The pressure either broke you or made you harder than diamond, with most people crushing under it.

Weiss:Yeah. The tension and meet of extremes I had on the frontlines was beyond imagination. The unity was great, but to feel it on the battlefield against the odds was feeling with way too much adrenaline and stress. Can’t say I enjoyed it. I simply lived through it.

Blake:Well it isn’t like I had a walk in the park. But I guess in comparison, my experience was a tad more mellow. Still, people were lost and hurt. Oscar isn’t himself anymore, don’t have Penny, former classmates and a few enemies turned allies fell in battle. Family.... it took a bunch to get the plan of containing, then it took a lot more to do it. In a way though, the two years of training is time I can’t regret. It tested bonds, strengthening and reestablishing others.

Ruby:I take it since love couldn’t bloom on the battlefield, it bloomed in the training yards?

Blake:*red* You can say that. That’s when Jaune and I got serious. *frowning* But.....

Yang:We fell apart?

Blake:Yeah. I didn’t learn my lesson well enough the first time about the potential problems of dating a partner. Only difference this time was I felt like I was the one being cruel. We had gotten into arguments and apologized more than once. Your fear of being left and my own insecurities just kept butting heads. I’d cry, you’d cry, our friends would be concerned. Then the day came where you put it all on the line. You confessed genuinely how much you loved me and how you felt a bit jealous when it came to Jaune. I had never seen you look so vulnerable; letting your gaurd completely down. And though a piece of me loved you and wanted you in my life for ever....this sense of genuine comfort Jaune gave was something I want-needed for so long. So I did the one thing I didn’t want to do. I broke your heart. I hurt you again.

Yang:Sigh....*leans back in chair* Okay, let’s see how well I know myself. My eyes went red automatically, followed by tears. I lashed out at you angrily out of pain and embarrassment until I was probably blue in the face. But to take make things worse, somebody probably overheard. No matter who it was, I yelled at them too for trying to calm me down and then I eventually run off leaving everyone unhappy. A good old meltdown. Sound about right?

Blake:To the letter. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so distraught.

Yang:Of course not, I’ve never been in love before meeting you. I....did a similar thing with my Blake over the stupid Adam shit. *covers face* of all the things to be similar, it had to be my temper. Please tell me our team didn’t suffer too harshly?

Blake:The good thing about two years of training was it didn’t have to be together all the time. Team RWBY didn’t fall apart, but it didn’t feel comfortable either. Outside of missions, the four of us didn’t hang out as much. It was three at the most. Nobody pinned blame on me or Yang for it but it was obvious.

Ruby:I mean how can you blame someone for feeling sad or not in love with someone? Pointing fingers doesn’t do anything. However, I bet missions were rough.

Blake:Bumblebee was shelved. We did any other team up we could. When push came to shove, Yang and I did put feelings aside. Neither of us wanted our feelings to get anyone killed. That’s probably what kept us connected for awhile, especially with Salem. I don’t think we questioned each other when it came to watching one another’s back. Slowly, our relationship got a bit better. Until....we stopped speaking to each other altogether about a couple years later.

Yang:Wait, why!?

Blake:I got pregnant.

The three listeners’ faces scrunched up and they let in a sharp breath like they just got cut. No one had considered that bombshell.

Blake:Marriage was rough enough. Having Jaune’s kid and starting a family just...cut deep I guess. You didn’t make a scene or anything if that’s what you’re worried about. One day you told me “I just can’t do this” and exited my life. I wanted to keep you close to me, but you wanted to be closer. That was a thing I couldn’t do. Hehe, I can’t tell you how weird it is talking to you like this again.

Yang:So that’s it!? We just don’t see each other at all!?

Blake:Certain events and celebrations have us in the same room, but that’s all. Ruby is the only thing that regularly links us, but she’s busy living life too.

Ruby:Is it a good life?

Blake:The best. You’re the huntress you always wanted to be and a hero to many.

Ruby:*smiles* Really? That’s good. May she ride that high for as long as she can. Though I bet she wished she had a special someone to share that with.

Blake:Huh? Oh, you married Weiss.

Weiss:*red* What!?

Ruby:Aye, nice.

Weiss:Weren’t you upset about thinking of other people with Jaune besides you!?

Ruby:Yeah, but I won’t deny if I am going to be with someone that isn’t him, I’m very happy it’s the other special person in my life. I mean come on, the only reason we don’t get weird in your universe is because I married your brother and you already invited my sister.

Weiss:I mean...it’s mainly the brother portion. The second part...

Ruby:Weiss, that’s weird.

Yang:Eh...

Ruby:IT’S WEIRD! YOU CANNOT TELL ME OTHERWISE!

Yang:*sips coffee* Eh.

Blake:Anyways, Weiss, you’re running your company. The Schnee Dust Company was scrubbed top to bottom to remove as much corruption as possible. No department was overlooked. In times of money, there’s a notable decrease in how much the company used to make.

Weiss:Gee, I wonder if that’s because the other me is doing oh let me guess, paying all their workers and not cutting corners in safety?

Blake:The SDC people approval has gone up considerably, just so you know that too. Turns out people like it when the company they buy from have good morals.

Weiss:Am I happy though? I make time for my social life and hu- I mean wife?

Blake:Yea, you’re happy. In a way I think we’re all happy, but....

Yang:We’d be happier if we were all happy together? Yeah, that’s how it works. You’re only as happy as the most miserable person in a family or group; if you all care about each other that is. Ugh, I wanna punch the other me. I get how she feels but it’s fucking immature to just ignore years of teamwork and family. At the end of the day, team RWBY is a family! Can’t believe I’d runaway from it instead of figuring out...I don’t know! Something!

Blake:*small smile* Well if you feel that way then there’s no reason to believe she doesn’t. My Yang just struggles with it more I guess, but I hope she can come around one day. Not really for my sake, but for her own peace of mind. As well as Lucas’s.

Ruby:Lucas? Your son I take it?

Blake:Mmhmm. My strong and lazy young man. He got his father’s hair but my eyes and ears. I can’t think of a person who warms my heart quite like him. He acts uninterested in a lot of things, but his heart is so big.

Weiss:Ah, so he’s just you?

Blake:More or less hehe. Though I’d say I was passionate about things all my life. Lucas will sleep all day if he could and doesn’t like going out without a reason.

Weiss:Still sounds like you if I’m being honest. Teenager?

Blake:Seventeen, almost eighteen.

Yang:You said he’s need peace of mind too? I’m not...hostile towards him am I?

Blake:No, not by a long shot. On the occasions you two have meant, you were polite. It’s just he knows why you don’t visit or talk to me. That’s rough, knowing your parent’s closest friend stopped being apart of their life because you were born. I think sometimes he believes it’s actually his fault.

Yang:I really, really want to meet this other me and have a few words. She needs to know she isn’t trying hard enough. I’m proof.

Ruby:Yeah, but you’re only well off because the person that helped you get over Blake, was Jaune. Yeah she still can find love, but who that person will be would be uncharted territory for everyone.

Blake:Also I’m not entirely sure exactly if my Yang is even bi like you.

Yang:Sigh....

Weiss:Love.

Blake:Huh?

Weiss:As long as a person shows your Yang genuine love and a place in their heart where she’ll remain forever, Yang would fall for them. They just have to make it a point to make her feel like they’ll stay. Yangs are softies like that.

Yang:Wow, you an expert on me and all the versions of me now?

Weiss:No, you’re just a bleeding heart that’s super emotional. Let me guess, you fell for Jaune the moment you realized just how relaxed and vulnerable you could allow yourself to be around him.

Yang:*red*.......he holds me when I’m overwhelmed.

RWB:Awwww

Yang:Shut up! Blake, take the heat off me.

Blake:Not too much more. Lucas is a smart kid who generally stays out of trouble. Unfortunately, trouble finds him. Mainly because of his semblance.

Ruby:Don’t tell me...

Blake:No no, it’s not bad luck like your uncle, but Lucas can’t always control it so their similar in that regard. Premonitions, that’s his semblance.

Weiss:Like...the future? You child can see the future?!

Blake:Yeah. *sips drink* it’s terrible.

Ruby:What? That sounds so handy! Man, if I could someone fighting me before it happened, I’d be a monster on the battlefield.

Blake:Lucas isn’t a fighter. Well, he’s not aspiring to fight. He can fight, pretty dang well in fact.; but randomly seeing the future is not a gift. Imagine picking up a book and you suddenly know the ending, or watching a movie and you start seeing the middle of it right after you press play?

Yang:Ahhh, that’s why he’s lazy and unmotivated. His semblance is massive spoiler alert. Half the fun of new things is not knowing what will happen.

Ruby:Oof, you have a point. I’d be paranoid to no end.

Blake:To a point, he was. Ever since he was ten. Disasters happen at the drop of a hat. Lucas isn’t the kind of person to watch bad things unfold, so whenever it was possible or even if it was risky, he’d do whatever he could to prevent said disaster. But.....there’s only so much anyone person can do. There’s only so much information he sees. The constant strain and guilt that came from failing ate him up. The. There’s the incidents he’s seen that didn’t show him how it began or how it will end. *rubbing her hands* It’s bad...

Weiss:Hey, I...I’ve noticed your hands and frankly even your face are a bit....slim. Your skin isn’t as colorful as I’m used to either. Almost like it’s regaining color.

Blake:Hehehe.......I guess you were bound to notice of all people.

Weiss:Of course. I may not run a a company in my world but I keep tabs on my brother and have had my fair share of visits to a doctor. Why wouldn’t I notice.

Yang:So can we talk as if there are people who have no clue what’s going on?

Weiss:Blake has had one of two things happen to her. She’s either worked way too hard to the point she’s not taking care of her health, or she’s fallen very ill and her body is still recovering.

Blake:Yeah, it’s more of the second one, but probably because of the first one as well. Forwarding equality, I was overzealous with it. One day Lucas just started shaking and crying when he was twelve and I couldn’t understand why. Turns out he kept seeing me bedridden and unconscious without a reason. Day in and day out he simply cried and tried his best to get another premonition to learn more, but couldn’t. A week later I started feeling a little dizzy, and then blacked out after vomiting. At first I thought maybe I had the flu or something. Nope, a tumor.

Weiss:What?

Ruby:Blake!?

Yang:Oh shit, are you-

Blake:Perfectly fine! *smiles* I’m fine. Liver cancer, but it was caught early. No more tumor what so ever, but the meds and the entire process was really draining. Got sicker a couple of times. Not once did I feel like I was dying necessarily, more like...slipping? I felt myself getting drained. The whole time Lucas was so scared; blaming himself for not preventing this or knowing how to fix it. Though simply knowing he saw me like was a warning most people wish they got. I know I said seeing the future is terrible, but the scariest part through all of this was not knowing how it ended. Choosing medicine, doctors, surgery possibilities, it made me crack under pressure a little. I think he noticed that. I wasn’t sure if I picking an option that lead me dying or getting better. The stress alone may have killed me. Ever since then Lucas hasn’t been so outgoing.

Ruby:....

Weiss:....

Yang....It was already said, but there was no way this wasn’t going to get sad was there?

Blake:Take it from me, there’s joy in pain. So many people came to visit me when I was recovering. Even Yang dropped by for a bit. After I got out, I don’t think Lucas ever hugged me so hard. Jaune tried to stay calm through the whole ordeal but it was rough for him too. He was all but spent emotionally when I came home.

Weiss:I’m surprised Lucas didn’t become an older brother.

Blake:The last thing a recovering patient needs is a pregnancy, but as far as missing me goes...

Ruby:You can stop right there with that tangent.

Yang:We’ll talk about that in private. I wouldn’t mind that story.

Blake:*playfully rolls eyes* These days I try not to over do things. I’ve only officially been deemed completely cured for about a year. I can feel that I’m still not entirely up to strength. It’s fine though. It gives me an excuse for Lucas to dote on me a little. He’s a mama’s boy at heart. My biggest worries these days is peeling him out of this shell his semblance had put him in. At the very least I want him to smile like he used to and find away to live in moment when possible. His entire life is ahead of him. Hopefully he doesn’t see all of it.

Ruby:I guess too much of anything really is bad. Knowledge included. I hope things work out.

Yang:Me too. A happy life is something you definitely earned.

Blake:Thanks. That seriously means a lot, which is why I made sure to not end this on a sour note.

The happy faunus pulled out her scroll to scroll through pictures and her friends eyes lit up. The first one was a beach photo. This Jaune was different from what they were used to. He let his hair grow a little bit longer and the back went down his neck, but it was definitely still him. This jaune was pretty toned and went for a lean look than bulky like Weiss’s, but a tad slimmer. On his shoulders was an adorable toddler with wide amber eyes and big blonde cat ears. Both men were enjoying the sunset on the waves.

The next photo was more recent with Blake right in the middle of hopping into Lucas’s arms. Weiss noticed the girl still had on the hospital bracelet. She must’ve just gotten cleared. Lucas had grown like a weed. He was now roughly Jaune’s height. His hair was messy and looked like Jaune’s in his younger years. Also like his father, Lucas was jacked! His sleeveless purple shirt should off his biceps as they wrapped around Blake’s torso for a hug. His baggy purple shorts had black and gold trim through the seams and the shorts stopped right below his knees; but showed of his well defined calves. A smile of pure joy and what could’ve been a few tears were visible as he looked lovingly at his mother. It warmed all of the ladies hearts. Still, the girls also could tell under his eyes were a little dark. Lucas must’ve been very tired.

The final picture had to be the most recent. It was Blake and Lucas sparring. Both looked at each other with excitement and ease as their wooden blades clashed. Their clothes mirrored one another by being black and white kimonos. They even wore the traditional shoes and everything.

Weiss:Yeah, that’s your kid.

Blake:Damn right. Unfortunately that makes him a little too stubborn. But I guess that’s okay. Without a doubt, someone’s gonna break through that shell of his.

Yang:Oh? It sounds like you already know who?

Blake:Well....I have a hunch.

xxxxx

RING! RING! RING! Lucas’s scroll chirped, in the middle of the night. The boy let out a long, agitated groan of sleepiness as he rolled over in bed; reaching for his scroll on the nightstand to answer.

Lucas:Hello?

???:Did you know you are mathematically more likely to choke on a hotdog than get attacked by a shark?

Lucas:....Serenity, who gave you my number?

Serenity:Your parents, and it’s Serendipity!

Lucas:Too many syllables. Also a bit ironic given who you are. With the way you act though, my name for you is better.

Serenity:Ooooo so we’re moving on to pet names? How forward of you.

Lucas:Five seconds before I hang up. Three...two-

Serenity:You’re late! You promised to guide me around the beach at twelve. That’s now.

Lucas:.....P.M. Twelve P.M. Serenity. Why in the world would I mean midnight!?

Serenity:It’s romantic and personal. Nobody else is around. I thought you were trying to use that Belladonna magic on me by acting all cool and aloof in the moonlight.

Lucas:.....

Lucas:Please delete my number.

Serenity:Not on your life, my whiskered bodyguard!

Lucas:Don’t have whiskers-

Serenity:If you don’t wanna move that butt of yours to hang out with a pretty girl in a floppy hat and sundress with a bikini underneath, that’s your loss. I’m still going for a dip.

Lucas:Do not go in the water when nobody is around.

Serenity:Pfft, I’m a strong swimmer.

Lucas:Sharks.

Serenity:It’s more dangerous to eat a hotdog.

Lucas:Sharks feed at night.

Serenity:Are you trying to tell me the statistics aren’t as reliable just because it’s nighttime.

Lucas:That’s exactly what I’m saying.

Serenity:Then you better move your butt just in case. Either you get a snack or the sharks do. Either way, I get attention.

Lucas:Difference is one wants to eat you.

Serenity:My goodness Lucas, oh brazen of you.

Lucas:......

Lucas:Tell the sharks I said hi.

Serenity:Okay! Byyyyyyeeeee! *hangs up*

Lucas:(She’ll be fine.)

..........

Lucas:*putting on shoes* This is bullshit. Who thinks midnight!? *walking down stairs* Can’t have a peaceful day or night....

Jaune:*watching tv* Hey Lucas, going some-

Lucas:I’m giving out your phone number to a homeless man the first chance I get! *walks out door*

Jaune:.....(Whatever gets you outside more.)

It took about fifteen minutes of aggressive walking for Lucas to wrap around to the back of his house towards their section of the beach. Where Serenity walked around humming and collecting seashells without a care in the world.

Lucas:The next shell you grab will have a crab in it.

Serenity:Huh? Oh hey you’re finally-ahhhh! Ow ow ow ow ow ow!

Lucas:Should’ve listened.

Serenity:Have a better warning!!!! It won’t let go!

Lucas:Pull it off.

Serenity:That’s hurt!!! Lucas, help!

Lucas:Fine, if you delete my number.

Serenity:*sniffling* Stop being mean!!! This really hurts, it’s breaking the skin. Isn’t a young and pretty girl’s tears payment enough!? I thought you were getting paid to-

Lucas:Oh my goodness! Okay, just shush. I’m too sleepy for this.

Serenity:You’re mean when you’re sleepy. At least your waking up voice sounds handsome though.

Lucas:Please....stop. Stop everything. *removing crab* Happy?

Serenity:No, you’re not happy. Also my finger is bleeding.

Lucas:Yep, looks like you can’t go swimming now for real.

Serenity:Eh, I lied anyways. I’m not getting in that water. There are sharks in that watery grave.

Lucas:So. Why. Did. You. Wake. Me. Up?

Serenity:....*red* I...don’t really, have friends here. Besides you. Umm *points to pail and shovels* sandcastles?

Lucas:*inhales*......I’ll get the water.

Serenity:*smiles* Yes! I’ll delete your number later.

Lucas:*red* You....can keep it of you really want.

Serenity:....Kek, okay Mr. Tsundere

Lucas:You can remove the next crab alone.

Serenity:Don’t joke like that! That was a joke, right?

Lucas:Welp that pail isn’t gonna fill itself. *leaves*

Serenity:What!? Lucas!!! You were joking right!? Right!? *looking around the sand* you’re a lousy bodyguard!

Lucas:Good, fire me.

Serenity:I...you....ugh!

Lucas:Cheer up, I’m happy now after all. *smiles*

Serenity:*pouting* This is why I’m a dog person.

[marvelbbyx]

Can I Be Him? (Carol Danvers x Fem! Reader) Part two!

Summary: You and Carol have been the best of friends for years and years, to you it’s simply platonic. Whereas for Carol, she tortures herself constantly pining after you. The situation only gets worse when you get engaged to your boyfriend of three years and Carol has to leave for a mission (that could more or less take her six years to get back from).

The day before Carol has to leave, she admits her feelings for you, giving you two choices: to leave him and go with her or stay with him and get married.

Who will you choose and what will be your outcome?

Author’s Note: Second part to Can I be Him? You guys seemed to really like it as much as I did, so thank you all! And enjoy!!

Warnings! ANGST

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

“Hey, Kevin,” Carol greeted bitterly.

“Carol? Oh, I didn’t know you were here,” Kevin comes into sight, a puzzled expression on his face when he sees both of you with tearful eyes.

“I was just leaving,” She replies dryly, moving towards the door and pausing near Kevin. “Congrats on your engagement, I’m sure you’re both very happy.” She stole a passing at you before walking out the door.

“Hold on,” You say to Kevin as you followed Carol out the door, closing it securely once you were in the hallway. Carol had made it down two flights before you shouted her name. “Carol! Carol, wait!” She stops mid-step and looks up at you as you descend the two flights. “Don’t walk away from me, not like this...”

“What’d you expect me to do, stay? Stay and watch you move on with your life?” Carol bit harshly. “I’m sorry, but that’s not happening.”

“I don’t want—“

“You don’t want what? Me to leave?” She prodded. “Well, you know what I wanted? I wanted to be the one you’d tell stories about—to be the reason why your eyes would light up—I wanted to be the person everyone would hate hearing about, because you’d talk about me so much. I wanted it to be me.”

You were silent for a few minutes before you finally opened your mouth to say, “...it is you.”

Carol had a wild urge to throw her arms around your waist and kiss the sorrow from every square inch of your face, but she couldn’t.

On second thought...

Screw it.

She moved in close, moving her hands to your cheeks, cradling your face gently. And you let it happen, anticipating the thing that would now seal your bond forever, you closed your eyes as did she and awaited the warmth from each other’s lips. You nuzzle into each other, the tips of your noses bumping against each other as you both went in close. Behind you, though vaguely, you heard a door open followed by approaching footsteps, before your lips were able to touch you gasped and pulled away, turning to run, but she reached out and grabbed your hand.

“Don’t go...please, don’t go.” She whispered.

“I’m sorry...” You cried, tears filling your eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

With that, you pull yourself out of her grip and run up the stars. You stopped by your apartment door, now too sick to go inside and face Kevin. Your heart sank when you heard her footsteps stride away from her spot, it sank deeper once you finally regained the courage to go back inside. As you opened the door, you heard Kevin on the phone, he sounded excited about something judging by the lilt in his tone. You stood by the doorway fiddling with your ring until you heard him hang up the phone.

“Oh, Y/N! Good, you’re back! I’ve made us reservations at the restaurant on 5th—“ He comes into your vision, taking notice of your eyes and the way that your lip quivered. “What’s wrong?”

“We need to talk...”

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

I swear that every word you sing, you wrote them for me.

Like it was a private show, but I know you never saw me.

When the lights come on and I'm on my own

Will you be there to sing it again?

Could I be the one you talk about in all your stories?

Can I be the one?

Can I be the one?

Can I be the one?

Oh, can I, can I be him?

Won't you sing it again?

Oh, when you sing it again,

Can I be him?

Oh, sing it again, yeah,

Oh, when you sing it again,

Can I be him?

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

3:30 a.m.

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

You ran as far as your legs could carry you, feeling sorry for any disturbances that you could’ve—did cause. Your talk with Kevin ended on a note that you didn’t expect for a long shot. You told him the truth and gave him the ring back, you’d thought that he’d be offended, proposing to you the day before and the day after receiving the ring back. But Kevin—sweet Kevin—took it with class.

“In a way—I’m sorry too. I made things worse for you and Carol,” He said to you. “I was so determined to be that person for you...even though it was her the whole time.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

“I’m mad at myself. You two belonged together and I ripped you apart, you still belong together.”

“Kevin—“

“No, Y/N, go to her. And tell her I’m sorry.”

Now you were at the Avengers compound running like someone lit a fire under your ass, you had to find Carol, who most likely was asleep in her room. Resting up for the mission. You ascended the stairs with a quickness, the elevators took too long and you weren’t about to wait another second to be apart from Carol. Exhaustion be damned.

You made it to her floor, your legs warm and tense from the workout of the stairs. You knocked on her door with haste, no answer. You knocked again, still no answer. Now you assumed that she was ignoring you, which you felt you deserved after today.

You spoke up, now, “Carol? It’s me...Y/N, I know that you probably don’t wanna talk to me. If I were you I wouldn’t wanna talk to me either. But it’s over now—me and him—I wanted you to know that. I just had to let you know...even if—“ You twisted the doorknob to find that it was unlocked, making your way into the room.

Carol was always a neat person, drilled into her from the Air Force. Her bed was made, the small kitchenette spotless, and the floor looked like it had just been vacuumed. Disbelief spread across your face. No, she couldn’t have left. Not yet.

You walked around the room, scanning for any evidence that Carol was still here. You opened the closet searching for clothes, boots, ripped jeans, her super suit, anything of hers. But the only thing that was there...was an old Aerosmith t-shirt of yours hanging by itself.

Your mouth dropped open, and sadness crossed your features. You take the t-shirt holding it close to you. “No...”

You heard someone knock on the door quietly, you poked your head out to see Sam and Bucky standing there at the door. They’re tired, it showed in their eyes, they probably came over to tell you to shut up and stop making so much noise. But judging by the regrettable glance they shot you, it was nothing like that.

“Hey,” You breathe out, giving a half-smile.

“What are you doing here?” Sam inquired. “It’s three am, you okay?”

“We heard a noise,” Bucky says, his voice deep from his slumber.

“Where’s Carol?” You ask, clutching the t-shirt tighter.

They sigh in unison, looking to you with pity. Bucky was the first to speak up,

“She left, doll.” He says quietly.

“As soon as she got here...” Sam added.

You shake your head. “No...no—no, she said tomorrow morning—so she should still be here. Right? Carol wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye. She wouldn’t.” You were telling yourself more that you were telling them, and the more you said it, the more heart broken you became. “Please...tell me that you’re joking and she’s still here.”

They were quiet. Watching the two of them, it was all you could do, you could hardly contain your own tears, falling to your knees and sobbing hysterically...the realization that this was partly your fault, filled you with immeasurable guilt.

Knowing that now, you wouldn’t be able to see her until next time...whenever that was.

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

I swear that every word you sang, you wrote 'em for me.

Like it was a private show, but I know you never saw me.

When the lights come on and I'm on my own,

Will you be there, will you be there?

Can I be the one you talk about in all your stories,

Can I be him?

Can I be him?

Can I be him?

Can I be him?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Tag list: @captains-simp @blackluthxr @your-my-mission @wolfyalice-x @natblidaclexa @an-evergreen-rose @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

Read Part One Here!

[shutteredislands]

REYLO MODERN AU FIC RECS

Hi!! I spent my entire winter break reading reylo fics and I feel like I’ve found some gems! I’m boring and don’t like angst, so most of these are pretty fluffy, however, always read the tags before reading. Anyways, happy reading!

Already Home -  College, Roommates, A/B/O, Soulmates AU - Complete - Rated E - 79k

“Oh stop being all Alpha-y.” She flexes her foot, rolling her ankle as if to prove a point, and he doesn’t miss the wince that crosses her expression. “You aren’t my Alpha, and you definitely aren't my soulmate,” she mutters.

He can’t help but let out a dry laugh. “Thank god for small mercies.”

Okay so this is a trope fest but it was so good! I’m not gonna explain the plot in depth because I think going in blind is best for this!

Baby, It's Just Biology - Professor/Student, A/B/O AU - Complete - Rated E - 113k

For Rey Jackson, trying to finish your degree in Biomedical Science at Harvard is difficult enough when you're one of the few Omegas on campus.

It's made even more difficult when your Professor is the one to trigger your heat. You can't help it, it's just your biology.

An Alpha Omega love story.

This is the perfect balance of angst, fluff and pure smut. This one Is a lot angstier than anything else on this list, but you can see every stage of this relationship and I loved it so much! Please read the tags on this one!

I’ve got you (under my skin) - Nanny/Single Parent AU - On Hiatus - Rated E - 81k

“Hi, I’m Rey. I’m here for the—”

“Nanny,” Ben blurts out dazedly, still trying to remember how to form coherent thoughts. “You’re the nanny.”

Her smile hitches up a little wider. “Well, I might be.”

Suddenly, Ben thinks he might be in for a whole new world of problems.

Because Rey Johnson is still most likely the only thing standing between him and disaster, that much hasn’t changed, not by a long shot.

And Ben can’t seem to stop staring at her mouth.

In which Ben hires Rey to watch his son... but he can’t seem to stop watching her.

Okay so I almost never read WIPs, but this one was left off in a pretty good place so don’t worry about cliffhangers or anything. I am a sucker for single dad!Ben so expect more of these. I loved this fic so much and get ready for a SMUTFEST.

Light My Fire - Rivals to Lovers, College, A/B/O AU - Complete - Rated E - 20k

When rivals Ben and Rey break into a professor's office together, it comes out that Rey might not be the Beta she thinks she is.

I’ve never been the biggest reader of enemies to lovers, until this. This was so so so good! I loved their banter so much, and this is another smutfest lol.

Peacock - Fake Dating, Enemies to Lovers, Neighbors AU - Complete - Rated E - 72k

Thanks to a series of misunderstandings, failed attempts at flirting, and loud Katy Perry music, Ben grows to hate his new neighbor.

Proposing to her wasn't the best solution to his problems.

This is, hands down, one of the funniest fics I have ever read. I cried actual tears because of how funny this is. Slowish burn, but their banter will keep you engaged the whole time. I love this so much!!

An Unexpected Vacation - Scientist, A/B/O AU - Complete - Rated E - 62k 

“You don’t care that someone, that people will watch you fuck?” He looks two seconds away from puking. “Like multiple, multiple people will be able to describe your vagina. They’ll probably analyze it in a boardroom. Someone will feel proud about a shitty PowerPoint full of annotated pictures. They will use words like ‘arousal fluid’ and consult charts and these things will never not be digitally saved. That doesn’t bother you?”

“Are you suggesting my vagina is unworthy of analysis?”

--

In which Rey attempts to bolster her bank account by volunteering to fuck an Alpha in a scientific study. Plans go pear-shaped when she accidentally triggers scientist!Ben’s first Rut.

This was a really funny smutfest and I loved that. I loved Rey and Ben so much, and Ben was the perfect “I hate everyone but you” boyfriend! I love this!

She Doesn’t Normally Bite - Single Parent/Teacher AU - WIP - Rated E - 37k

Ben Solo is a single dad to 6-year old Ellis. Her teacher isn't the old-cat lady that he expects and naturally, sparks fly when they meet. Rey helps show Ben that he is allowed to be happy and the romance is DELICIOUS. There will be the happy ending we all deserve.

Both Ben and Rey have a lot to navigate, and of course - things are never straight forward.

Tw: Bens wife died when their daughter was born - whilst it is mentioned periodically, it does not form a significant part of the story. There'll also be warnings in the notes for the particular chapters it'll be mentioned in.

THIS THE ONLY WIP I WILLL EVER READ REY AND BEN ARE SO FREAKING CUTE AND ELLIS IS SUCH A CUTE KID AHHHHHHH! That is all.

Down an Inch, Up an Inch - A/B/O, Soulmates, Gym Rats AU - Complete - Rated E - 60k

Omega instructor Rey has always been the master of her domain at Rebel Belle Barre and wouldn't dream of dating an Alpha.

When her new neighbors at Supremacy Bootcamp start ruining her classes with their terrible music, she storms over to give them a piece of her mind. She challenges the beefy ex-Marine owner Ben Solo to a plank-off and the loser has to take the other's class. When they spark an unusual connection, can Rey stay away for long?

Has she bitten off more than she can chew with the gentle giant Alpha with the warm, sad eyes?

SMUT FREAKING FESTTTTT. Okay but I loved these two so much, even though I am opposed to working out in any shape or form! I love the non-traditional soulmate part, and I really loved Rey in this. 

Tea for Two - Enemies to Lovers, University Setting AU - Complete - Rated E - 67k 

'"This is a tea house, you know." The plummy, ultra-posh voice startled Rey Kenobi from her day-dreaming, almost spilling the scalding hot coffee over her chest.'

Rey, an American former hacker, turned cyber security expert, has been commissioned by Oxford University to protect their systems from hackers. Unfortunately, she has to work closely with Professor Ben Solo, Merton Professor of English Literature who also happens to be Lord Ben Solo, member of the English peerage. And an unmitigated snob.

She drinks coffee. He drinks tea. He only reads classic literature. She reads Marvel comics. He is nobility. She is a nobody.

Things should go swimmingly, shouldn't it?

SO. MUCH. UNRESOLVED. SEXUAL. TENSION. I loved the slow burn aspect because I sat in bed because I was waiting for them to bone for so long. And after they bone its a smut and fluff-fest I loved this so much!

And They Were Roommates - Roommates, A/B/O AU - Complete - Rated E - 49k

“This isn’t going to work.” He points a finger between the two of them. “This arrangement.”

Her eyes narrow. “You didn’t put any specifications on who could apply.”

“Yeah…” He rubs the back of his neck then, the action making it look longer, making her wonder what it might feel like under her fingers. “You have to know that this isn’t a good idea.”

She knows what he means, she does—but she’s so tired of being brushed aside for her designation that she challenges him anyway. “And why not?”

His eyes bore into hers, his expression blank as he says, “Because I can tell how much scent-block you put on—and I can still smell you.”

In which Rey’s new roommate turns out to be a lot more than she bargained for.

EVEN. MORE. UNRESOLVED. SEXUAL. TENSION. Like these two would be eating cereal and I would be chanting, “bone! bone! bone!” the whole time. I loved these two, and the family aspect of this one was so good.

Imprints - A/B/O, Boss/Employee AU - Complete - Rated E - 74k

“I was happy you’ll be working with someone you know. He’ll take good care of you.”

Take good care of you.

The words send a shiver down her spine, sparking memories that flood her with embarrassment. She feels a strange itch just below her ear, her gland giving a phantom pulse as if her body remembers the incident even still.

Suddenly her triumph fades into dread, the idea of working here leaving a hollow pit in her stomach. Poe is still talking, but she doesn’t hear most of it. Her mind is firmly trapped in the vivid memories of six years ago— in a moment she wishes she could forget.

By the time she hangs up the phone— she isn’t sure anymore if she can do this.

Okay so this is pretty popular so I wont say too much, but it lives up to the hype. Smutfest, fluff and angst rolled into one beautiful fic! 

Bespoke - Enemies to Lovers, Boss/Employee (?) AU - Complete - Rated E - 38k 

When new stylist Rey Jackson receives a request to dress the hottest (and most unfashionable) new actor in Hollywood, she gets a lot more than she bargained for.

Mentally AND physically.

Because Ben Solo is freaking massive.

THIS WAS SO HOT OMG! Smutfest but also super cute. Another “I hate everyone but you” version of Ben I fell in love with. Loved this!

Incognito - Coworkers AU - Complete - Rated E - 30k

“Somehow Rey’s coworkers find out about her Daddy kink. They all kink shame her for it, except her coworker Ben. He has something else in mind.”

This was so funny! Ben and Rey were so cute, and I love Finn and Rose in this too! This was great!

A Home For Christmas - Single Parent, Sugar Daddy AU - Complete - Rated E - 109k

Rey is a struggling single mother who needs to do right by her daughter, even if it means she needs to steal. Ben is sad and lonely, recently divorced for the second time. When Rey's daughter picks him to help her find her mom, their paths cross and their Christmas becomes a little more bright.

This was so freaking cute OMG!! I know I say that a lot, but this was so adorable! I loved Ben and Rey so much, but Nova was obviously the star of the show. I cannot recommend this enough!

Unsuppressed - Office, A/B/O AU - Complete - Rated E - 49k

Rey had only ever encountered two Alphas in her entire life that had been unsuppressed. And now this third one that stunk up the entire building. Not that it stunk, his scent. In fact, it was the most delicious thing Rey had ever smelled. ///////////////////////////////////// Ben Solo closed his eyes as he rode down the elevator from the 40th floor to the lobby, trying not to reach up to his glands to scratch them. Somehow, it felt like he always caught the elevator that was dripping in the Omega’s scent. The one that wandered around the building without any suppressants. The one that smelled better than any Omega he had ever smelled before.

STRAIGHT FLUFF AND SMUT OMFG!!! I loved this so freaking much! This was whatever the opposite of unresolved sexual tension and slow burn. Like Ben and Rey tried to make this a slow burn but they could not keep their hands off of each other. I loved this!

Sunshine and Gunpowder - Hitman, Surprise Parents AU - Complete - Rated E - 48k

She’s a teacher who would do anything to protect her student. He’s a glorified hitman with a heart of black gold.

Together, they make up odd halves of a beautiful whole.

THIS WAS SO CUTE!! Like, yes, I know Ben is a hitman, but when I tell you he was the softest hit man I have ever read, Temiri was so cute in this! I loved Ben and Rey, and their UST made me love them even more. Han and Leia are also hilarious in this! 

It Takes a Village - A/B/O, Surprise Parents AU - Complete - Rated E - 40k 

Who knew that all it would take for Rey Johnson to interact with her enigmatic Alpha neighbor without wanting to melt into a puddle of hormones was a baby being abandoned at her doorstep?

Not her. That was for sure.

THIS IS THE CUTEST ONE YET! I REREAD THIS QUITE OFTEN! LIKE AHHHHHHH SO FREAKING FLUFFY! NOT EVEN A WHISPER OF ANGST AND A LOT OF SMUT I LOVED THIS SO FREAKING MUCH AHHHH! AND THE EPILOGUE MADE ME CRY!

Sensual Storytime - Office AU - Complete - Rated E - 23k

When Rey Johnson starts a new job, her initially antagonistic relationship with Ben Solo from IT turns into friendship... and maybe something more.

Little does she know he also moonlights as Kylo Ren, the creator of her favorite audio erotica. One day at the office, worlds collide, and she realizes the sweater vest-wearing nerd of her dreams is also the tattooed fantasy man she listens to while getting off every night...

THIS IS MY FAVORITE REYLO FIC EVER. I RECOMMEND THIS TO PEOPLE WHO DON’T EVEN LIKE STAR WARS! THIS IS COWORKER BANTER LIKE NO OTHER. AND THE SMUT ? UNPARALLELED. READ THIS NOW!

That is all I have time for right now, but I’ll make another list later if anyone would like that! Please take care of yourself and have a great day! 

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Six

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: nsfw sort of?? barely

***

Cassian is going to kill Nesta.

He’s never met a woman so stubborn that she would rather throw herself under a bus than accept help from others.

“What happened to your rants about universal healthcare and redistributing wealth?” He gestures furiously between the two of them while keeping one hand on the steering wheel. “I’m trying to redistribute the wealth!”

She scoffs from the passenger seat. “Nice try, comrade. I’m not letting you dangle your wallet over me while I live with you for free. It’s disgusting and manipulative.”

Cassian wants to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. “Why do you automatically assume I’m trying to manipulate you?” he says incredulously.

“You don’t get to pay for my things,” she snaps. “They’re mine.”

“I know you’re already broke from that MRI—”

“That’s none of your business.”

They pull up to one of the university buildings. “Oh, great argument.” Cassian brings the truck to a stop. “Are you gonna use that one in court?”

Nesta buttons her blue blazer and furiously grabs her things, not saying a word.

“What are you thinking now?” Cassian pokes, the hardness dissolved from his voice a little.

She shoves the passenger door open. “How much longer it’s going to take to get my car fucking fixed,” she bites, hopping out of the truck and slamming the door shut on Cassian’s face.

Clenching his jaw, he watches her walk sharply for the building, tension ratcheting her figure. Impossible woman.

She does look damn good in a pantsuit, though.

***

Nesta has to take deep breaths before she enters the mock courtroom, refusing to let Cassian get to her head right now.

It's not his offering to pay for her endometriosis treatment that pisses her off, but it's that he won't take no for an answer. She wishes he could just let her dig herself into a hole of debt and despair like millions of Americans already do every day. She wishes he wouldn't demand an explanation from her every time she screams and cries about getting her way.

Later. Her mind clears through an imaginary filter. You’ll deal with him later.

Now, she has a case to win.

Nesta strides into the courtroom with her file of documents and takes the speaker’s bench, her opponent already seated on the other side of the aisle. Emerie Nikolis is five feet nine inches of Mediterranean goddess, and the only student at Prythian Law who’s been able to challenge Nesta for her spot at the top of the class. Not that she’s succeeded.

Nesta’s never been up against another woman for a moot court, though, and it adds a buzz to her nerves. Men always come into the courtroom with too much confidence and not enough research, and from there Nesta can steadily dismantle their arguments until they’re left spluttering. From Emerie’s cutting hawk eyes, Nesta knows she doesn’t function like that.

As student judges file in and head for their seats, Nesta leans over and mutters to Emerie, “Good luck defending the side that represents everything morally corrupt with this country.”

Emerie brushes back her ponytail and smiles mockingly at Nesta. “You mean the side that powerful white men have chosen since the beginning of time? I won’t need luck.”

Nesta scowls at the panel of student judges. They are all white men.

“You’re lucky I enjoy a challenge,” she hisses, and sits back in her seat as they start calling oyez.

***

Cassian doesn’t mean to fall asleep.

He’s cleaning up around the house while Nesta is gone, and ends up finding a worn paperback trapped between the leather cushions of the couch. Pulling it out, he takes one look at the cover and nearly chokes. A half-undressed man graces the cover in regency-era clothes, his flowy shirt unbuttoned to reveal toned abs. A woman with golden curls clutches onto him passionately, only dressed in a corset and underskirt.

A slow smirk spreads over his face and he snickers. He didn't know people read these anymore. A glance at the back of the book proves his point: published in 1999, a true vintage piece.

Plopping onto the couch and laying back, he opens the paperback. If Nesta doesn't want him reading her books, she shouldn't leave them lying around the place.

Flipping to a random page, he frowns when it isn't a smut scene. Boring. He keeps flipping until he finds one, and props his feet onto the armrest to get comfortable. Now what exactly does Nesta Archeron get off to?

Over an hour and a hundred pages of surprisingly tender romance later, his aching eyes finally slip closed. The open book falls onto his face, and the scent of faded ink follows him into sleep.

Cassian is in a dim candle-lit room. Foiled wallpaper and overstuffed furniture decorates the space, and there, by the small window, she waits.

She turns her head to speak over her shoulder, “You came.”

“I did.” The line comes to him naturally.

Without turning around, her hands reach up for her hair. She starts removing pins from her updo, golden curls falling apart one by one. Once the last pin drops, she finally turns around.

Gleaming locks now frame her soft face and shoulders; her pale breasts rise and fall above the low curve of her thin nightgown. Under the candlelight, she looks freshly forged and porcelain-like at the same time.

“Could you help me?” Nesta says.

Cassian is stuck in his spot, unable to move. He's never seen Nesta like this: so heavenly, but so different.

“Cassian?” she asks again.

“Oh,” he stutters, “um— what do you need?”

She steps closer. “You.” His breathing stops. Nesta slips her slender hands up his arms, to his shoulders. She's holding him close. “I need you to tell me something.”

“Anything.”

Her breath fans over his face. “Do you want me?”

Cassian is very still.

“Do you want me like I want you, Cassian?” she repeats, pressing closer to him. He can feel her nipples through the wispy fabric of her gown.

“Yes,” he breathes shakily. He doesn't know which hurts more: wanting Nesta or being wanted by her.

“Have you been very lonely, Cassian?” She drags her hands back down his arms, finding his hands and placing them on her shoulders. “Is that why you like having me around so much, because you’ve been lonely?”

This Nesta knows him… a little too well. His breath hitches as his hands, directed by Nesta’s hands, slowly pushes down the sleeves of her nightgown. In a flash, the fabric has dropped to her waist, baring her unblemished chest and stomach. Before Cassian can even absorb what's happening, her arms are winding around his neck again, and now she's pressing entreating kisses into the crook of his neck.

“Tell me,” she mutters onto his skin. “Do I make you feel heard, or am I just a pretty face to you?”

“Nes—Nesta.” Cassian tries to swallow air.

She smells so good. She feels so good, and she's not even doing anything to him, just holding him.

“Heard,” he gasps when she goes for the buttons of his shirt, her mouth finding his chest. “You make me feel heard. I like it when we talk and you listen to me. Nobody listens to me.”

She pulls away from him, mouth shining. He just now realizes how jarring the gilded ringlets of her hair are.

“That’s so good,” Nesta purrs, reaching up to clasp his face. Her hands feel thin and rough, like paper. “You’re so good.” She reaches in, her lips chasing his, and—

Awareness seeps into the corners of Cassian’s reality, and his eyes peel open. He blinks between two different worlds until he finally realizes— it was a dream.

Of course it was a dream. Nesta doesn't have blonde hair or curls. And her skin isn't porcelain smooth, but dotted with freckles and moles. And yet, the arousal stirred in him is very much real, evident by the ache in his dick. Fuck.

A throat clears softly and Cassian jumps. The romance book is still on his face, he notices, and his world is darkened by the rough pages. Batting it away, confused, he fully awakens when he sees who’s in front of him.

She’s still in her pantsuit from this morning, but her hair is undone and her cheeks carry a rare flush. Her clothes are rumpled.

“Nesta.” He scrambles upright, painfully aware that he was just dreaming about her half-naked. He carefully arranges his elbows on his knees, his hands dangling between his legs. “You’re back,” he says casually. Taking notice of the blackness outside the windows, he becomes concerned. “You’ve been out this whole time? Oh God, I was supposed to pick you up—”

“No, no,” she says quickly. “Didn’t you see my texts? I went out with some people from moot court.”

Cassian widens his eyes. He’s never heard her mention any friends from school, much less leave the cabin to hang out with other people.

“I totally kicked this girl’s ass in the Title IX case I was telling you about,” Nesta goes on, “and she wanted to take me out for afternoon drinks, and some other guys ended up tagging along too…” She twists a piece of hair around her finger, the experience sounding as brand new to her as Cassian suspects it is. “And yeah, then she got me a cab.”

He raises a brow and leans back. “You willingly let someone else pay for you? Wow, you really are drunk.”

The smile blossoming on her mouth drops and the cold veneer returns. “So you go through my stuff while I’m gone?” she scolds. “How many times are we going to have the boundaries conversation?”

Cassian picks up the paperback still on the couch. “Oh, this? This was just a little light reading. You know, since I share my Netflix and Prime with you, I figured you could share your period-piece smut with me.” He fans through the pages, trying to find the spot he left off on. “I didn’t even know people read physical romance books anymore. That’s like me keeping VHS tapes of porn instead of using my phone.”

Nesta stomps over and snatches the book out of his hands. “It’s not like I enjoy owning books with ugly covers,” she hisses. “I get headaches reading e-books. And this is a classic.” She carefully wipes at the cover as if Cassian got dirt all over it.

Cassian tries to snatch it back. “I wasn’t done with it,” he grits. “Nesta, give it back.”

“I’m glad we brought up boundaries,” she says instead. “Because we need to talk about this morning.” Shoving the book into her pants waistband, she peels off her blazer and takes a seat on the coffee table in front of Cassian.

Cassian blinks, gripped by the authority in her movements. Nesta pokes a finger at his chest. “What you said bothered me all day. Nearly ruined my night. So I’m telling you now, I’m not taking your money for anything, ever. And if you bring up the topic again, I’m moving out.” She sounds dead serious.

He’s not afraid of her. “I’m bringing up the topic now,” he pushes back, his tone hard. “As someone who considers you a friend, I don’t like to see my friends struggling.”

Nesta blinks, and maybe finally accepts that she can’t fight her way out of this, because she drops her finger. “I can’t be financially dependent on a man, Cassian,” she admits, refusing to look away from him. “I’ve done it before, and it’s no way to live life. I don’t care how nice you are; I’m not taking your money. And you can’t make me.” She doesn’t shout or hiss that last part. It’s said with a quiet strength, and it makes Cassian want to concede everything. If this is about her ex-boyfriend, then he doesn’t want to be anything like him.

But it doesn’t change the fact that her health is still on the line. “What if you don’t take my money?” he says quickly. “What if I make you work for it?”

Law school doesn’t allow for part-time jobs on the side, and Nesta’s been scraping by with scholarships and leftover money from her father’s will. The suffering is worth it now, she told Cassian once, if she’s at a law firm the year after next with a starting salary of 100K.

Nesta purses her lips, skeptical. “What kind of work?”

“You can be a legal consultant for Night Court.”

“Do I look qualified to be a legal consultant?” She’s glaring now.

“Well, it’s either that or you get to be my personal assistant.” Nesta looks even more outraged at that, and Cassian holds up his hands. “I respect your need to stay independent,” he says, “but you can’t convince me that a handout or two is worse than going broke.” Cassian himself would be dead right now without all the handouts he got over the course of his life. “Please, Nesta,” he says quietly. “Think about it for me. And if you still hate it, I’ll never bother you about it again.” Even though it would kill him.

Nesta stares at him, the gears in her brain visibly turning. Finally— “Rhysand’s company does run on handouts anyway,” she mutters, glancing away. “What’s one more?”

Before Cassian can drop to his knees and thank her, she whips her head back to him. “But I want to do real work, Cassian. Not the pretense of work while I get a fat paycheck.”

He bursts into a grin and grabs her arms. “I’m gonna work you so hard.” He kisses her hard on the cheek.

Nesta makes a choking noise and starts coughing, and Cassian realizes how that sounded. “Did I say something wrong?” he plays innocent.

Nesta’s face is red for reasons other than alcohol now, but she covers it up by shoving Cassian hard enough to send him into the couch cushions. “Asshole.” She pulls her book out of her waistband and throws it at Cassian’s chest. “Have your romance back, I’m going to bed.”

“Hey— wait, it's six p.m. What about the puzzle?” he calls after her. She ignores him and keeps walking.

“Fine,” he says to her back, “but don't go to sleep with your contacts in again; you're gonna hurt yourself.”

As she reaches the stairs, he adds, “I’m proud of you for the moot court, by the way. I’m telling everybody you're the smartest person I know.”

Nesta pauses briefly at that, before saying, “Goodnight, Cassian,” and continuing up to her room.

Later that night, Cassian does want to tell everybody that Nesta is the smartest person he knows. She's the smartest, coolest, and wittiest person he knows, full stop, with killer looks and a criminally underrated personality. But something is holding him back from sharing his feelings with the rest of the world.

It's the same feeling that's had him avoiding Feyre these last few weeks. The unspoken knowledge that not everybody sees Nesta the way Cassian does, paired with the fierce desire to protect her from any sort of criticism.

He doesn't have any definitive proof to justify his feelings, but he knows he can't stop thinking about Nesta. He knows his friends will take notice of the change in his behavior eventually, so in a fit of restlessness, he reaches for his phone to test a theory.

Scrolling through his contacts, Cassian eventually settles on Mor. She's close to Feyre and Cassian both, has an inclination to gossip, and she’s never interacted with Nesta. Perfect.

Cassian: what do you think of Nesta?

He's straightforward with her the way he always is, the way she always is with him.

Mor answers quickly without question: didn’t she let feyre work her ass off at age 14 while she sat around and did nothing?

Mor: she sounds like a bitch and i have yet to see anything to the contrary.

Mor: she has very nice eyes though

Mor: if u know what i mean ( . )( . )

Cassian wishes he hadn’t even asked. He doesn’t even know how to reply to that, so he’s about to turn his phone off when another message from Mor comes in.

Mor: why do you ask? how are things going with you two?

Cassian sighs deeply, not in the mood to start a fight with one of his best friends. He never told Feyre about taking Nesta to the doctor, or the following MRI and diagnosis. The last time he had a real conversation with Feyre was the first night of Nesta’s period, when he was worried sick over how to take care of her.

“What should I do, Feyre? She's crying herself sick upstairs and all I have is this stupid hot towel.”

“You don't have to do that,” she sighed tiredly over the phone. “Nesta goes through this every month. She’ll survive. Don’t get yourself worked up over nothing.”

That was when he decided he was calling a doctor no matter what.

And now… He’s confused and upset and he doesn't know why. Instead of arguing with Mor, he texts back, it’s nothing. A second later, he adds, but she's not a bitch.

He wants to say more, but texting Mor an essay on why she’s wrong for judging Nesta without knowing her would make him look crazy, among other things. He doesn’t know why he has to clarify that Nesta isn’t a bitch in the first place.

Either way, Cassian’s theory was proven correct.

He decides not to mention Nesta to his friends anymore.

***

Nesta lays in bed, thinking about the absolute day she’s had.

If getting drunk with Emerie Nikolis and Eris Vanserra at two in the afternoon wasn’t enough, stumbling back home to find Cassian like that finished her off for good. Her cheek has been tingling for hours.

She remembers how this housing agreement between them first started: I need you to know you can enforce whatever rules and boundaries you want while you’re here.

Nesta huffs a laugh. Boundaries are for strangers. Cassian seems content to poke and tug at Nesta’s boundaries whenever he wants, and Nesta… is okay with this. A mere month ago, this would have been her worst nightmare— living with a man who pushes her on every decision, who never does what she wants but somehow always knows what she needs.

But now they're friends, and Nesta is slowly learning that the rules are different with friends. Not everything has to be spelled out, because Cassian will understand what she's trying to say anyway. Not everything that is unknown has to be scary, because Cassian is never scary.

He’s allowed to read her books because he won’t make fun of them. He's allowed to know about her personal health matters because he won’t tell anybody else. And apparently, he’s allowed to give her a job so she doesn’t go broke trying to afford endo treatment.

These are the new rules.

She’s ridiculously glad that she told Lorene she won’t be coming back to the apartment for a few weeks. She doesn't know what she'll do after then, but for now she is okay.

***

a/n: hello i love writing cassian pov and learning more about him so much :) also thinking about having cassian call nesta 'baby' when they get together more often than 'sweetheart' just bc i think it would be a good look on him. pls share ur opinion.

tagging: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies

[stutterfly]

Swipe Right 01 | Context Switch | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst [later on], humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 12.8K

Fic Summary: Jungkook wasn’t always like this. Or maybe he was and you don’t want to admit that he had you fooled. You quickly discover he has a lot more to offer than exchanging pleasantries and awkward small talk. In fact, he never seems to shut up.

For the better part of a year, he’s held your irritation hostage, never passing up an opportunity to deliver savage one-liners at your expense. When he discovers you’re on Tinder, he turns up the brattiness factor and intentionally seeks you out. Who knows? Maybe if you gave him a chance he could charm the pants right off of you. Then again, maybe he’s just a fuckboy.

Tags: Fuckboy Jungkook, like cannot stress enough Fuckboy Jungkook but gets soft later, dirty jokes, talk nerdy to me, PUNS, friendship feels, sexual tension, Jin being bad at copying Mario’s accent, Namjoon being bad at accents

CW:  panic attacks, filthy language, this whole chapter is setup so like nothing too bad i dont think???

Series: Activate your SIMCard Fic: Swipe Right (1/?- Ongoing) Do not repost. masterlist // next chapter

(A/N: This is part of my “Activate Your SIMcard” series. Each member of BTS has their own AU in which IT/TechSupport/NerdReader gets dating help/advice and ends up falling in love with them instead. As with a dating sim, the same characters are utilized--same professions, similar scenario placement-- but different interactions/pathways lead to different romances. ~Anyway here’s the Jungkook route.~ The Namjoon route, “Love Bytes” is currently in the works.)

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Nerves wrack your stomach as you make your way down the hall, clinging to the man beside you. His strides seem gigantic next to yours and you find yourself struggling to keep up with him. “Stop walking so fast, Namjoon.”

The man laughs, but slows his pace just enough to allow you to walk side-by-side. “Sorry. I’m just excited for you to meet them.”

Digging your fingernails into the flesh of his elbow, you swallow hard. It’s been a couple months since the young English professor stumbled into your life holding the pieces of some very expensive, very shattered college property. State of the art technology, brand new, busted in less than a week of his arrival. He’d get the biggest chew-out of his life if he presented it to your boss, and you were too sympathetic to let that happen.

While you’d willingly paid for the whole thing out of pocket to cover for the newbie, it had definitely put a strain on your finances and what little social life you had. Within a week he’d worked up a repayment plan than spanned the course of a year. He even started buying you a coffee every Friday as an apology for how long it was going to take.

After a few months of bonding over kung-fu movies, life before Namjoon’s friendship seemed like a distant past, a hazy dream. It was natural that your new bestie wanted to grow your pitiful social circle. But there was a reason you didn’t let people get close to you. The fact that Namjoon had slipped past your defenses so fast made him an anomaly worth dissecting for scientific discovery.

Just the thought of having to now socialize with people you don’t know has your temperature boiling and your head spinning.

He attempts to tug his elbow away from you, and you stumble forward, keeping your death grip on him. “I know, but talking to people isn’t exactly my strong suit. Are you sure it’s best I meet all six at once?”

“You’ve already met Jimin,” he begins, clawing at your hand with long, veiny fingers until you release your hold on him, “but he’s not coming tonight, so don’t worry... you can relax a little.”

Your face twists into a sour grimace as you try to sputter out a response. “I-Pfft. I mean. Jimin’s a model. His face is on billboards and shit. Like… how is that supposed to not be intimidating?”

“Jimin is the world’s biggest sweetheart,” he laughs, shoving his hands into his pockets as you continue down the hallway. “You don’t have anything to be afraid of. I have a feeling you two will get along fine once you stop being so shy.”

You huff and tick your jaw a few times before wringing your hands together. Maybe.

“Anyway. Taehyung is out of town on business, but you can meet him another time. He’s kind of quiet when meeting new people too. Hoseok and Yoongi texted they might be a little late. It’ll just be Jin and Jungkook you’re meeting now. And it’ll be just the four of us for a bit.”

A deep breath escapes you as you hook your elbow with his. “Okay. I just… I’m nervous.”

He stops at the door at the end of the hall and looks down at you. “Give them a chance. If you’re still feeling bad in an hour, then we’ll leave, and I’ll hang out with y’all separately from now on. Deal?”

You eye his extended palm peeking out from beneath the crook of your twined elbows before a smile creeps across your face. You shake his hand. He always knows what to say. “Deal.”

As Namjoon knocks, you leave the comfort of his side, realizing how your anxious clinging might be mistaken for a romantic gesture. You begin to shrink back, trying to hide in his shadow before the door opens. You’re about halfway there when a young, well-built man appears, prominent leg muscles bulging from beneath his basketball shorts as he props the door open with his foot. There’s a cup of instant noodles in his hands, and you’re pretty sure at least half of its contents are dangling from his mouth.

The scent of garlic and rosemary drifts into your nostrils, and you freeze as you cower behind Namjoon, realizing how long it’s been since you last had a decent home-cooked meal. You were promised free food so maybe it won't be so bad after all.

“Ah, Namjoon,” he greets and gestures with his head towards the domicile. “Come in--Oh!”

He chokes a chunk of noodles back into the paper cup as he notices your figure standing behind the tall man.

“Jungkook, this is Y/N,” Namjoon says, stepping to the side and pushing you out into the light of the apartment “I told you she was coming tonight, remember?”

Jungkook’s dark brown eyes widen and he pumps a fist into his chest a few times as he tries to get the remnants of spicy noodles dislodged from the back of his throat. Namjoon sent a bunch of texts this week making sure it was cool to bring someone to hangout night since he’d made a friend at work and wanted everyone to meet them. The way the texts were worded definitely didn’t give any indication that the friend he was bringing tonight was a woman. Maybe they did. Maybe he should have read more of them.

The muscular man before you holds the remaining food in his cheeks and waves bashfully with two fingers as he swallows. "Jungkook," he mumbles, as if the name itself is introduction enough and all but sprints from the room.

Seconds later, a new voice shrieks out from the other room. “What are you doing eating that?! Dinner will be ready soon! Jungkookie if you don’t put that down--!”

A dull smacking sound accompanies the clattering of silverware and plates. You swallow hard, trying to think about anything other than the way the young man had rushed out of the room at just the sight of you. Maybe you’re just that ugly.

“Hey! I’ll eat! I’ll eat! I promise!” Jungkook cries out. His voice drops an octave. “Namjoon is here.” Their conversation becomes indiscernible, but you can’t shake the feeling that you are definitely the subject of their quiet discussion.

You throw a worried glance in Namjoon's direction. "Did I do something wrong?" your voice is hushed as you work your sneakers off, trying to hold in the crazy amount of anxiety that threatens to unscrew the top of your head and send your brain exploding into the ceiling.

Namjoon shakes his head, unbothered by his friend’s odd behavior. "Honestly, I texted him a bunch this week to make sure it was cool and I got one-word replies so I'm wondering if he even read them." He bites his lip and spares a glance back at you, knowing he probably should have kept that to himself.

"Oh," your heart sinks into your stomach and threatens to fall out your butt as you straighten your spine. "If that's the case, should I... leave?"

"Leaf?!" A bright green piece of lettuce is thrust into your face. "How about a whole salad? You can't go before you try it! It's unbe-leaf-able."

You blink in rapid succession, trying to stifle a laugh at the cackle emanating from the man whose bony fingers are holding the lettuce. It sounds like a... windshield wiper? A giggle slips out, stronger than your will to keep it tucked behind your lips, and it only seems to make the grin on his face stretch impossibly wider. Heavy shoulders rise and fall with his laughter, causing the bright pink apron across his chest to wrinkle.

Namjoon groans. "This is--"

"Now do you smell that delicious flavor in the air? Because this just a taste of what you will find at my amazing restaurant 'Heart and Seoul'," he announces, cutting off the man beside you as he clutches the lettuce to his chest with eyes closed. "Where I give you a piece of my heart and soul... Some refer to me as Worldwide Handsome, others call me the God of Cookery. Some call me an angel and believe I fell from heaven." He bows with a flourish and takes your hand in his. "But you can call me..." He finally looks at you, a dark smoulder in his features that sets your cheeks on fire. "Later?"

He seals your fate with a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. Your jaw, which has been hanging open for some time, finally decides to snap itself shut.

"This is Seokjin, and he's going back into the kitchen to finish making dinner." Namjoon is already ushering his friend back towards the kitchen and chiding him as you purse your lips together to hide the smile spreading across your face. Did you just stumble into some alternate universe where all of the men you meet are ridiculously good-looking?

"It's nice to meet you, Seokjin," you call after them before letting your eyes wander around the room.

Paintings line the walls and photos sit on the bookshelf in the corner. As you approach the shelf to get a closer look, you realize those aren't books, but video games. There must be hundreds. Don't people use cloud storage for most of their games now? Your eyes curiously scan the photos on the top shelf. The man who had introduced himself as Jungkook is in all of them. There's another man in a couple that you don't recognize, but his gaze is piercing and cold when he's not smiling. You're able to pick Jimin and Namjoon out in a few, but it feels like looking at a family photo. Everyone seems so close; it makes you envious.

You lick your lips and can't help but admire the collection of video games underneath. You crouch to get a better look at the ones lining the bottom shelf. You're surprised to see there are games for all types of consoles: PS4, XboxOne, Switch, WiiU, Nintendo DS, SuperNintendo, PlaystationVita, PC... The list keeps going. Jealousy spikes your gut as you note a Mass Effect "SSV Normandy" ship figurine on the shelf above your head. You eye it with wonder and pride as your memories flood with the hours you spent playing the trilogy. Your fingers reach out to brush against the raised letters on the side of the ship.

"Have you played Mass Effect?" a quiet voice asks from behind you.

You jump in place and spin on the balls of your feet in a fluid motion that nearly sends you careening into the basketball shorts in front of you. Surprised by how close Jungkook is standing, you gasp and stumble back into the bookshelf, causing it to wobble and bring some of the frames filled with photos tumbling down onto your head. You wait for the impact but it never comes.

As you look up, Jungkook has several frames balanced on his arms and between his fingers, carefully maneuvering them away from you and back onto the shelf. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you! Namjoon told me you liked video games too and I saw you looking at the Normandy and I thought maybe you've played it. Ah, I'm sorry."

It's hard to miss the crestfallen way he rubs the back of his neck and stares at the floor once he places all the photos back on the shelf. You're still in shock that he caught everything before it smacked you in the head, but you force yourself to respond anyway. "No, it's okay. I'm just a jumpy person. It's my fault. I'm just glad I didn't break anything. I'm... asari? Get it? 'Cause like, I'm sorry... but also hot blue alien chicks, am I right?"

He smiles wide and laughs softly as he offers to help you up. As you take hold of his hand, you're quickly thrust to your feet with an ease you weren’t quite expecting. You steady yourself by reaching out to grip his arm, a movement you reverse the moment you feel the firm muscles beneath his t-shirt.

"Thanks," you mumble. Feeling his hand tense around yours, you take it back and twiddle your fingers. "So what decisions did you make? Renegade or Paragon? Rachni Queen? Samara's mission? Quarian and Geth dispute? Genophage?" You pause only to take a breath. "If you let Wrex die, we can't be friends."

He blinks at you a few times before breaking into a relaxed smile. “Of course not. What kind of monster do you think I am?”

You allow a relieved sigh to pass your lips. Maybe this wouldn’t be so painful after all.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You must have made a good impression that night. It’s been nearly a month and Namjoon’s friends have started pulling you into their group texts and Saturday night plans. This had been fine by you since you rarely had anything going on. Honestly it was kind of nice to be included.

While you still don’t exactly know everyone, you feel fairly comfortable talking with your new friends. Seokjin is absolutely hilarious. He’s so full of himself that his cockiness rides the line between charming and annoying; it’s hard to decide which aspect overwhelms his personality more. But you know that you find him irrefutably, irritatingly attractive because of it.

Jungkook is still polite and rather gentlemanly towards you. Your conversation about Mass Effect was enough to tide over any residual awkwardness regarding your initial meeting. He’s just a muscular, nerdy introvert who seems genuinely nice. However, Namjoon insists that Jungkook is still hiding a louder, brattier side when you’re around. He’s got this theory that since you’re a friend of a friend, Jungkook is holding back his usual antics for some reason. The harmless little crush you’ve developed on him has you secretly holding out hope that it’s because he wants to ask you to be his girlfriend. You’ve considered asking Jin what he thinks, but that man has no tact and honestly you’re afraid he’d just ask Jungkook with you standing right there.

Hoseok is a ball of smiling energy, one who has been begging you to visit his dance studio. It’s hard to say no, but you’ve managed for this long because of the very real possibility that you won’t be able to do anything but stare at the dazzling way he moves. He seems to take pride in his ability to make others feel good and absolutely beams when he’s the cause of his friends’ happiness. You can easily see yourself talking to him without Namjoon around to act as a buffer, which is amazing for someone with your level of social anxiety.

Yoongi is quiet, but when he speaks his words are sharp with purpose. Some people might mistake that for coldness, but you can tell he has good intentions and a soft heart underneath. His pointed remarks in the group interrogations have poked fun at you, but never in a condescending or cruel manner. And it’s certainly not in the way you see him absolutely roast the others. Maybe he’s taking it easy on you.

Jimin is still so beautiful to look at it devastates you, leaving a flustered, stuttering mess behind every time he leaves. Now that he’s become aware of the effect he has on you, he’s been testing the waters of your friendship with some teasing that borderlines flirtation. But you have a feeling he’s just screwing with you because he finds it funny to see you squirm. You’re hoping to build the confidence to dish it back some day.

Taehyung has been a little standoff-ish, but Namjoon had already warned you about that. You wonder if it’s because he’s a hundred times richer than you’ll ever be. Despite seeming like he’s in a different social class, he still seems deeply fond of his friends, and relatively down-to-earth. He’s a bit quirky, but he’s an artist, so you expect that kind of thing.

Namjoon says that he’s known almost all of them since college, so he’s been able to absorb most of the discomfort associated with meeting new people. He’s sweet, and more relatable than you originally would have thought for an English professor. He’s kind of like a pillar that you never knew your life had been missing. And now that he’s got your back, you can’t go back.

The smell of coffee pervades the air as you skim an article on your phone regarding the latest Halloween skins for Overwatch. You’re supposed to be meeting Namjoon here but Seokjin, and Jimin showed up and have been chatting about their plans for the weekend. Apparently they throw a Halloween party every year and it’s Jimin’s turn to host. Seokjin is supposedly in charge of planning the decorations due to his love for theatrics and has been discussing the possibility of a haunted house walkthrough. You smile at the thought of Seokjin popping out of the shadows to drop fake spiderwebs on people. It sounds like the kind of thing he’d get off to.

Namjoon flops down on the couch next to you. “You’re coming, right?”

You’re broken from your thoughts as you scroll further down the page. “E-Excuse me?”

“The Halloween party. You coming?”

You look up from your phone, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. “I mean… I don’t want to intrude on your group thing.”

“You’re not intruding!” Jimin, Jin, and Namjoon’s voices all stack upon each other and you’re taken aback by the sound.

Jin frantically scrambles to make you feel included. “Y/N, we just assumed you were coming. Of course you’re invited! You can help me get everything set up for the scary walkthrough. Please come.”

“Don’t give her work to do that you should have already figured out,” Jimin hisses before sending a warm smile your way. “I’ll text you the address later. It’s a costume party so make sure to dress up!”

Your bottom lip unconsciously protrudes in a pout as you pass a discouraging look Namjoon’s way. “What are you going as?”

He gives you a heartfelt, dimpled smile. “Sherlock Holmes,” he says with the worst british accent you’ve ever heard in your life. “World’s greatest detective.” He drops his accent and starts gushing. “The tweed suit is fairly iconic and most people will recognize the costume so I think it’s a safe option. Originally, I was going to go as Judge Di but Jimin kept telling me no one would get it. It would take some research to really get a feel for how he’d dress, but I’d be willing to put in the work.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Judge Dee? Like…. Judge... Ju...dy?” you trail off in confusion, immediately regretting your decision to ask.

Jimin throws his hands up as if this is the proof he’s needed to convince his friend that he’s wrong. “You see? I told you no one knows who that is.”

“Judge---! Really?!” Namjoon looks like he’s about to go off, but he shakes his head and sighs. “You know what? It’s okay. I look really good in a tweed suit. That’s all that matters.” He finished his statement by gesturing towards his chest.

You can’t help but laugh. “You’re such a dork.” You turn your attention to the others and raise your eyebrows at them. “What about you two?”

Jimin drags his teeth over his lip and shyly smiles. “I’m going as Iron Man. Tae’s been helping me build my costume for a while now.”

“Jungkookie and I are going as Luigi and Mario,” Jin proudly states he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees while tenting his fingers. “I’m Mario, of course, since everyone knows he’s the best.”

You roll your eyes. “Sounds like you, Seokjin.”

“What will you come as?” he questions with a smirk, cocking a mischievous eyebrow at you.

“Well...” you hesitate, knowing that most costume shops will be sold out of anything interesting or slutty; at this point your options are limited unless you want to be a Crayola shit brown crayon. “I’m not sure yet,” you mumble, scratching your cheek sheepishly. “I only found out just now so I don’t have anything ready. I usually go over Jennie’s place, hand out candy in my pajamas and watch scary movies, so I don’t know if I should bail on her like that.”

Solid excuse. Great job, brain. Really. Can I sound like more of a loser?

“She can come too,” Jimin offers with a thoughtful tilt of his head and a warm smile. “It’s a very open party. Lots of people will be coming and going, so it’s no trouble if you want to invite more of your other friends, if that makes you comfortable.”

Other friends. Like you have more than this group and Jennie. You’re going to just pretend like you didn’t hear that part. You can already hear her shrieking at you to say you’ll be there. She loves dressing up and would be more than happy to exchange a night of handing out candy for a night of partying. You suppose you can always get some vampire teeth and dab some fake blood on your mouth, but it feels like a cop-out. It’s a solid back-up plan at the very least.

“Okay. I’ll think about it,” you murmur with a fleeting look of panic directed at Namjoon.

He offers a sympathetic smile and pats your shoulder. “It’s okay if you don’t come. I’m just saying there will be free food.”

Your spine straightens and you perk up.

“Free food?” The words on you’re about to utter spill from a different source. A chin drops into the space between Namjoon’s shoulder and yours. Jungkook’s hair is still wet, but thankfully it’s not long enough to brush against your skin. The soft, sweet, almost floral scent of his body wash wafts into your nose as you turn your head to look at him. You surmise he’s come directly from work if he’s showering in the late afternoon. You internally swat the butterflies playing with your ribcage, trying to remember how to act normal.

Jungkook smiles sweetly, his eyes nearly closing with how high his cheekbones have risen. “Where is this food?”

“At the Halloween party,” Namjoon comments with a dismissing wave of his hand. “I was just telling Y/N that she’ll miss out if she doesn’t come.”

Jungkook raises his eyebrows and drops his smile as his surprised stare pierces your periphery. “Oh, you’re not coming?”

“I was thinking about it.” You immediately feel the need to defend yourself. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

“So don’t wear--” Jungkook catches himself before the word anything comes out. “A costume,” he finishes simply, straightening his spine and clearing his throat. “I mean we can make an exception. No one’s gonna kick you out.”

A devilish grin spreads across Seokjin’s features. “I’m sure I can help you find a pink dress and crown if you’d like to be our lovely Princess Peach. We can give each other items.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at his friend and Jin stares back with anticipation, waiting for him to make the mushroom joke he clearly set him up for. Jungkook purses his lips and quietly regards you. As the moment passes, Jin’s brow furrows and he crosses his arms in a huff, wishing that he’d said it instead. It’s been too long since you’ve blushed for his liking.

“Maybe I’ll show up in a leotard, spiked collar, and fishnets as Bowsette instead.” You nearly snort at your own joke.

Jungkook and Jin spill their surprise over one another.

“Whaa? Really?” Jin’s mouth hangs open, the image already permanently searing its way into his brain.

“You what?” Jungkook clamps his hands over the edge of the couch, hulking figure looming over you.

While Jimin and Namjoon are both oblivious what a Bowsette is, the words “spiked collar and fishnets” have certainly grabbed their attention as well.

You blink a few times, realizing how serious everyone has become as you sputter out a nervous laugh. “Kidding, guys. Kidding.”

Jin tuts in disappointment, slinking back into his chair. Jimin simply smiles. Namjoon breathes a relieved sigh. Jungkook starts walking away, distracted by the signage on the counter promoting a cinnamon chocolate chip milkshake.

“Besides, I’m more of a…” A lightbulb flicks on in your head and the thought comes spilling out your mouth before you can process it. “Oh, I have a cosplay from the gaming convention I went to a year ago. Maybe I can wear that.”

All three men lean forward, suddenly very interested in the concept of you using a cosplay as a Halloween costume. Jungkook’s head snaps in your direction just as he extends his hand to give his money to the cashier, but he drops it prematurely, sending coins scattering across the counter.

The sound causes all of you to look over at him and he quickly turns back to the cashier. She raises her eyebrows at him as he scrambles to recover all of the money for her. His ears turn bright red from the attention and you can’t help but put yourself in his shoes, cringing at the embarrassment coursing through your veins at the thought of swapping places.

Spinning back to face the others, you find Jin and Jimin on the edge of their seats, staring at you. Namjoon blinks at you and tilts his head expectantly. “You were saying?” he prods. “Something about an anime costume?”

Suddenly you’re embarrassed for yourself rather than Jungkook. “Don’t be weird, Joonie. It’s just a Princess Zelda cosplay.” You scratch your cheek in contemplation, murmuring, “Actually, I don’t even know if it still fits since I’ve gained some weight since then.”

Namjoon pats your shoulder assuringly. “Ah you’re fine. Don’t worry too much about it, ok?”

“He’s right. Just bring your smile, cutie,” Jimin says encouragingly.

You blush at the nickname and grin in response. He said it innocently enough, but you get the feeling that you reacted exactly as he had hoped because he exchanges a smug smirk with Seokjin. “See? Bring that.”

“Ah, you guys are embarrassing me,” you mumble, diving back into the article on your phone. “I’ll talk to Jennie about it later.”

Jungkook listens carefully as he tongues his cheek and waits for his drink to arrive at the counter. Are you really going to show up in that? He pulls out his phone and starts skimming amazon. There’s no way he can pass up the opportunity, regardless of what’s at stake.

A familiar veiny hand sets the drink down on the counter, and he outstretches his palm. “Service was good, yeah?”

Jungkook looks up from the checkout page and locks eyes with Yoongi. He scoops a large portion of whipped cream from beneath the lid and pops it in his mouth thoughtfully, smacking his lips as he washes it down with a sip through his straw. Yoongi raises his eyebrows at him expectantly, but remains silent.

“Hmm, I’ve had better. Maybe if I had some more whipped cream?” Jungkook suggests as he tilts his cup forward and gives it the tiniest shake, shit-eating grin strewn across his features.

Unblinking, Yoongi squirts a puff of cream into the top of the container before loudly setting the can on the counter. Satisfied, Jungkook reaches into his pocket and fishes out some money for a generous tip. “See this is why you’re my favorite barista. You always make it just how I like it.”

Yoongi forces a smile as he stuffs the cash into the half-filled tip jar. “The Java Stop values your patronage, customer.”

He catches a glimpse of Jungkook’s phone screen before the younger man snatches it from the counter and walks away. What the hell is he up to?

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You curse your past self for choosing Zelda’s outfit from Twilight Princess rather than Breath of the Wild; style over comfort rarely is a good choice, but it’s a choice you often repeat without forethought. It’s tighter than you remember, and not just because there’s a corset sewn into the chestpiece. As you sit in the passenger’s seat of Jennie’s Civic, you fidget with the hem of your dress. Without taking her eyes off the road, she reaches over and slaps your hand.

“Stop it. You look great.”

You rub the back of your wrist and pout, knowing it does nothing to change her mind. You eye her tattered dress, wishing you could pull off something so slutty with the same confidence she does. White contacts make her look even more ethereal than she normally does. Natural waves and curls poke out from beneath the bent witch’s hat atop her head and you can’t help but admire her beauty.

“I look like a nerd,” you say, feeling shittier the longer you compare yourself to her. It’s not her fault. You’re just insecure and wish that you could be more like her rather than the you that you are.

“You are a nerd,” she laughs. “What’s wrong with that?”

You smile. “Nothing, I guess. I don’t know why I’m so worried about it. It’s not like I’m gonna be getting laid any time soon. This costume solidifies it.” Negativity is something you’re used to dosing yourself with, but you know it’s an action you need to work at correcting.

“Hey if no one wants to fuck you in a Zelda costume, do they even deserve to fuck you?” Jennie asks, wagging her pointer at the ceiling as if scolding some invisible source above. “I don’t fucking think so.” She tuts for a second. “So speaking of… Which ones are off limits?”

You scoff and stiffen in your seat, trying to play dumb. “What? What’s off limits?”

“Y/N,” she starts in an accusatory tone. “I’m sure there will be lots of hot people there, but I’m talking about seven hot people in particular. Now if they came up to me and said ‘hey Jennie you so fine you wanna suck all seven of our dicks?’ I’d be like hell yeah I’ma suck all seven dicks. Get in a circle and let me at ‘em.”

You smack your hand to your forehead, wishing you could purge that image from your brain.

“Now I’m just saying in this hypothetical situation that I would never turn down going down on any of them if they asked. Unless I remembered that one time you told me you were crushing, maybe, just maybe I wouldn’t suck that particular dick.”

“We’re about to go see these people. I don’t want to be thinking about this while sipping my drinks across from Seokjin. That man can smell fear, shame, and insecurity,” you mumble, looking out the window at the trees lining the side of the road.

“So that’s why we get it out now before we get there. Can’t possibly slip out if you’ve already got it out of your system,” she explains with a confident smirk.

You cross your arms and give yourself a moment to truly think about the seven men. You certainly find all of them attractive, but crossing that line might make things weird. But maybe, hypothetically… “I don’t know… They’re all pretty hot in their own way…”

“You’ve got to be attracted to one more than the others,” she prods. “Come on, Y/N. Which one does it for you?”

Your tongue clicks against the roof of your mouth before you sigh. “I guess…” You subconsciously lick your lips and give it a few seconds before the memory of falling picture frames surfaces in your mind. An embarrassed smile flickers across your face as you give your quiet, honest answer. “J-Jeon… Jungkook.”

“The young one!” Her mouth falls open. She drums her fingers against the steering wheel excitedly and spares a delightful, yet surprised look at you for a fraction of a second before her eyes return to the road. “Really? I never would have guessed. But I haven’t talked to him much honestly. Doesn’t he work at that nerdy-looking gym you almost joined? What was it, Iron Kingdom? You could always sign up for personal training. Ya know, get some one-on-one time with those muscles...”

“He’ll think I’m dumb for not knowing how to do anything,” you mumble. “Besides that’s not why.”

You shake your head and pause to start counting the list on your fingers. “Okay so he’s got muscles, a cute laugh, he likes video games, he literally always smells so fucking good, he has a great smile, he’s nice, and like he’s so mature for his age. I’m so surprised.”

“I mean from the few times I’ve seen him, I thought for sure he’d be a tool and a major shithead,” she admits.

“I know, but seriously don’t judge a book by its cover. He’s been so chill and respectful and has made me feel so welcome over the last few weeks. None of that fuckboy shit you’d expect to get with younger guys like, he doesn’t talk over me, no mansplaining, he looks me in the eyes and not at my tits, and listens when I say something, even if it’s just me talking about my day.” You pause, registering the words you just said. “Wow, the bar is really low, isn’t it?”

“Sad, but true.” She nods, glancing at the GPS on the dashboard. It’s says you’re nearly there, but it’s kind of further out from the city than you’d both been expecting.

She laughs, mulling over everything you’ve said. “He seems kinda shy. You probably need to make the first move. Maybe you should tell him you have a big fat crush on him. Tell him you wanna hold his hand. Do you think he’d blush? I bet he would. I bet he has a cute flustered face. You should totally do it.”

Recalling the way his ears turned red at the cafe causes you to purse your lips, but the action can’t hide the smile curling at the corners of your mouth. So you have a little crush on Jungkook. Who wouldn’t? He’s practically flawless and totally swoon-worthy. Your heart races as you imagine his reaction to your outfit. Would he be taken aback by how good you look as one of the hottest, most iconic female characters in gaming history? He’s a huge geek so you know there’s a possibility that he could appreciate it. Sweaty fingers work their way down your wig, carefully smoothing out any loose strands. You hope he does.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Walking into Jimin’s place feels like entering a mansion. He told you that he lives with two other people from the same modeling agency, but you didn’t realize how big the place would be. Seokjin’s ability to gather this many decorations and display them with such attention to ambiance is certainly a feat worthy of praise. You find yourself lost in the orange and yellow lights that border each doorway and drape along the walls. Their soft glow is comforting as you walk down the dim hallway, exploring the house just enough to find the table filled with fruits and snacks.

Jungkook is nowhere to be seen and you find yourself breathing a sigh of relief as you sip punch out of a red plastic cup, filling a plate with an excessive amount of strawberries, peaches, and other sweet fruits. Contrary to your previous belief that admission would mean freedom from the thoughts swirling in your brain, uttering the words out loud has made you paranoid that everyone now knows about your secret crush. You’re hoping that drinking will remove the worry from your brain, so you do your best to down the liquid fast and refill your cup.

Jennie immediately hit it off with one of Jimin’s roommates moments after walking in. You’re envious because holy fuck that guy is tall and jacked, and he’s wearing a Captain America outfit. Jennie is about to make out with Captain America and you’re gulping down spiked punch from a little plastic cup. You appreciate being able to silently agree to split, but know that you have each other’s back if either of you were to suddenly express interest in leaving, even if Captain America is balls deep.

She’s an extrovert. She loves socializing. Tossing a strawberry into your mouth, you eye the table of snacks again. You don’t. You love food. Food or sex would be a tough toss-up for you depending on the menu, and in this situation food definitely wins. There’s a buffet table of appetizers looping around the room and into the kitchen. It doesn’t get much better than this, especially knowing it was catered by Seokjin’s restaurant.

You remove a glove and tuck it beneath your armpit as you stuff your face full of sweet treats and survey the amount of people on the dance-floor. There are a good amount of people here --some with ludicrous costumes-- and it makes you feel better about being able to blend in.

You had arrived fashionably late only because Jennie may have passed the house a few times, thinking this place couldn't possibly be it. A hand skates around the periphery of your vision and you frown as it attempts to surreptitiously claim a peach slice from your plate. Following the hand to its owner, you find a smile quickly claiming your mouth in place of the previous sour grimace.

"There's plenty of peaches left over there," you say, pointing to the table of snacks beside you.

"Mmm," Namjoon hums as he pockets the fruit in his cheek. "But this pile is better. I can deduce that you've already picked out the best pieces, Zelda."

You look him over from head to toe, examining the details of his tweed suit. You hate to admit he's looking dapper as fuck in this outfit. Despite often wearing three-piece suits to work, you rarely have time to stop and really appreciate just how flattering they are on his frame. Your eyes settle on the dark brown silk carefully knotted around his neck. "Don't you get sick of wearing ties?"

His eyes widen and he blinks at you as if you'd just told him that he sat in some gum. "Do you think I should have gone with the bow-tie? I spent hours weighing the pros and cons to both and which would be more quintessential to the whole ensemble. Did I make the wrong choice?"

You open your mouth to respond, meaning to allay his concerns and tell him that he looks fine, but he interrupts rather quickly. "You know what, don't say anything. I brought the bow-tie as a backup. It's upstairs in the guest bedroom. I'll go put it on."

You grab his arm just as he's about to leave, noting the plate full of chicken wings precariously balanced on one hand. "Namjoon. Chill. Your tie looks fine. I was only asking because I would strangle myself if I wore one all the time. Now gimme some of that chicken."

His eyes dart from you to the plate in his hand and his anxiety seems to visibly melt away, replaced with a soft smile. "I'm overthinking again, huh?"

The words have never come easier than they do now. "No shit, Sherlock."

At that he offers a laugh. "How about a trade? I share the wings for access to the princess's treasury of peaches."

"Deal," you agree with a smirk, wiggling your eyebrows up and down. "Wanna people-watch with me?"

He nods enthusiastically as he tosses a handful of fresh fruit directly from your plate into his mouth. "I was gonna wander aimlessly and socialize but this sounds way better."

"Glad we're on the same page," you murmur into the chicken wing at your lips, sucking the sauce off of it and scanning the room for any particular eye-catching costumes.

The flash of red, flowing satin catches your eye. Is someone wearing a bathrobe? Seriously? The taste of hot buffalo sauce causes your lips to tingle as you note the soft, fuzzy edges of the robe. It looks comfy, actually.

You elbow Namjoon in the ribs, directing his attention to the slender, black-haired figure gliding across the room. Namjoon opens his mouth as if to identify the stranger, but the flourish of the robe beats him to it. As the material spins, you catch a glimpse of tan skin peeking out from the chest, long legs exposed as he reaches for the sash at his waist.

The silk billows as it comes undone, cascading to the floor like a river of crimson. There's no mistaking it. You're now staring at the nearly nude, half-painted body of Kim Taehyung. You can't help the way you jaw drops open at the sight of so much skin being flaunted seemingly without a care in the world. Namjoon's hand flies up to cover your eyes, as if he's going to spare you the sight you've already taken in. Now that you've seen Taehyung in a thong, there's no going back.

Sauce-covered fingers pry his away from your eyes just in time to meet the piercing gaze of the man across the room. Is it mirth or anger that graces his features? It's hard to tell with a paintbrush trapped in the box his teeth make. He takes lazy strides across the room as you struggle to keep your eyes off the unforgiving fabric outlining every last curve of his dick. It's not until he's closer that you notice the thin belts crossing his hips, which appear to be holding six tubes of paint, three strapped to each side like gun-holsters. You have to admit they frame his crotch rather nicely.

It takes every ounce of willpower you possess to keep your eyes trained on his face. He carefully takes the paintbrush out from between his teeth and extends it to you. "Draw something pretty on me, Y/N. You too, Joon. Tonight I'm a human canvas on display for the universe."

Your eyebrow quirks as you exchange a look with Namjoon and set your plate down. "You know people are just going to draw a bunch of dicks on you, right?"

He scoffs, waving off your concerns. "Don't be so negative. I will have a beautiful mural by the end of the night. Mark my words."

"I think you're putting too much trust in the goodness of human nature," Namjoon comments, his lips pressing together in an attempt to hide the amused grin that is quickly spreading across his features.

Taehyung cocks his head to the side and leans forward with a lopsided grin. You're afraid he's about to get even closer and whisper some dirty secret into your ear. Instead he asks in a breathy, low tone, "Princess Zelda wouldn't draw such dirty things on me, would she?"

Twirling the thick handle of the paintbrush between your fingers, your eyes dip to the paints secured at his waist. His eyes chase the trail yours make down his side and his delight splits his mouth into a goofy grin. "Oh. Help yourself." He gestures to the colors available with a sweep of his hands just above his hips. "Feel free to use your fingers instead.” He pauses when your mouth falls open slightly. “You know, to paint... Just be careful what you grab, Princess," he jokes.

Removing your other glove with your teeth, you drape them over your shoulder and reach out for the tube of yellow paint, trying to hide the way your hand trembles. He looks down and smiles as the cold paint touches his skin. Before long you have the faint shape of 3 triangles at the center of his chest.

“How fitting,” he murmurs, offering an amused hum as you fill in the last triangle with a glob of yellow that threatens to run down his torso.

“Oops, sorry,” you apologize, moving to tap the brush against the excess, but he grabs your wrist before the bristles can make contact with his skin again.

“That’s alright. Let it do what it does. I like it like this,” he says, watching the clump of paint slowly slide down his midriff. “Besides I’m sure someone else can use it.”

“Like Sherlock!” you suggest, holding the paintbrush out for your companion.

Namjoon takes it begrudgingly and uses the excess yellow to draw a small smiley face beside the triforce symbol.

“Cute,” Taehyung laughs as he takes the paintbrush back from Namjoon. “I love it. Thanks guys.”

Just as he turns to find his next artist, a long object bars his path, pressing against his chest just above the collarbone. You follow the shape of the bar to its owner, revealing a grinning Hoseok clad in an officer’s uniform.

“That’s a bold choice Taehyungie,” he says, securing the faux nightstick into a loop at his waist. “Just make sure you keep that thing on…” He gestures to the small bit of material at Taehyung’s crotch and holds up a pair of handcuffs with his index finger before continuing, “or I’ll have to arrest you for indecent exposure.”

“Impersonating an officer is a crime, you know,” Namjoon says, even as he’s reaching out to touch the shiny metal. “Wait. Where did you get these? Are they real?”

You squint at the device in Namjoon’s hands, looking for the safety release latch like the cheap pair you bought to use with your ex. You don’t see it. That can only mean that these are the kind where losing the keys would have real consequences. But you’re not about to out yourself as the kinky freak you are, so you bring your nearly forgotten drink to your lips and guzzle what’s left in the cup.

As the empty plastic hits the table, your eyes happen to trail across the room and land on a crowd of people gathering around a very impressive, fully-lit Iron Man costume. Jimin seems to be soaking the attention up as the crowd grows ever larger. The massive room has begun to diminish in size, and it’s as though the once comforting lights are now wilting and closing in on you, threatening to strangle the air from your lungs. The adrenalin spiking your veins is telling you it’s time to seek the comfort of open space and solitude. Fast.

You duck beneath Namjoon and Hoseok’s arms, carefully sidestepping around Taehyung to avoid brushing against the wet paint on his skin. “I’m gonna get some air. Try not to get cuffed, Sherlock,” you manage to joke with a smile before turning on your heels and booking it from the room.

If anyone responds to your joke or even acknowledges your exit at all, it’s lost on your ears. Sweat beads on the back of your neck as you hastily attempt to make your way down the hall. If you can just get outside, you can breathe. You’ll be fine. You know it.

Warm bodies clutter the path to your freedom and you can’t help but feel more and more breathless by the never-ending apologies spewing from your mouth as you squeeze past each blockade. You don’t feel like yourself, even as you speak. Taking in sharp, greedy breaths like this isn’t helping. Why is this place so devoid of oxygen? Your body moves on autopilot, seeing the faces of the people you pass, but not feeling their eyes on you.

You float out of the front door, your head as light as a feather, but your eyelids feel like they’ve been anchored. You’re positive you’re about to gracefully glide down the front steps, legs becoming amorphous blobs beneath you that will surely allow you to fly. Just as you’re leaning into the momentum of gravity, two pairs of hands steady your shoulders and criss-cross around your midriff.

“Deep breaths,” Jennie’s voice briefly cuts through the ringing in your ears.

“Do you need to sit down?” The other voice spills into your eardrum as a rushed whisper, one that’s dripping with concern.

Huh? You work on steadying your breathing instead of trying to answer.

“What did she drink?” the familiar voice asks Jennie, the brief flicker of panic quashed by the evenness of his tone. “How much has she had?”

“Relax, Yoongi. Not even our lightweight champion gets drunk that fast,” Jennie reassures him as they help you seat yourself on the top step. “Are you familiar with panic attacks?”

Yoongi rubs the back of his neck and nods silently, backing up to give you some space.

“Jennie. I’m fine now. Thank you,” you mumble, shaking your head and regaining your sense of self. “I’m glad you have my back.”

“Of course. I saw you in the hall and I just knew.”

You jump when you meet the gaze of her white, eerie contacts, which causes both her and Yoongi to laugh. You look up at Yoongi. He shoves his hands into his pockets, long flowing shirt obscuring any flesh poking out from beneath it.

“Hey, you’re not dressed up,” you blurt, realizing he’s sporting a very goth, natural Yoongi look.

He scoffs before bending at the waist and baring his teeth. A single vampire fang is affixed to one of his canines.

You tilt your head like a dog hearing a strange noise. “What, only one fang?”

“Just as dangerous, princess,” he warns with a smirk, standing up straight.

You swear you see a wink, but then again maybe you’re imagining it. You have been known to exaggerate things in your head. Still your stomach somersaults and you focus your attention on Jennie. “I’m okay. I think I’m gonna chill out here for a bit. Get back in there and dance with… god what was his name? Jackson? Jae-beom?”

“Jin-young,” she corrects before biting her lip and glancing back towards the house.

“Go. Hottie McYoungie won’t wait forever,” you tease and point your thumb over at the man hovering above you. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine with toothless over here.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at the nickname but nods at Jennie. The answer seems to be satisfactory and she gifts you with a tight hug. “Text me if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay. Love you. Now go get laid.” You whisper to her before playfully pushing her back. Before you know it she’s scrambling up the steps and slips back inside, tattered dress swinging wildly with the sway of her hips, revealing just enough of her fishnet-clad thighs to draw Yoongi’s attention. There’s a fraction of a second where he wets his lips as he watches her go, but it’s gone in the blink of an eye. You don’t have time to tease because his dark eyes fall to you.

“Is there anything I can do?” His face is stoic but you can hear the sincerity in his tone.

“Wanna take a walk with me? I’d like to keep away from the big crowd.”

“I know the perfect place,” he says, hopping down from the steps and offering you his hand.

You take it with a smile and rise to your feet, carefully moving down the steps as you dust off your butt. The night air is a bit chilly and you start to work your gloves back up your arms to fight the goosebumps forming there.

That’s when you hear it. You want to misread the sound for a flute, recorder, oboe, or even someone’s radio, but you know those are all incorrect assumptions. It’s an ocarina: an ocarina playing a crude rendition of the opening to ‘Gas Pedal.’

Turning slowly, nothing can prepare you for the sight before you. Jungkook stands on the top step of the porch dressed in a green cap and tunic, tan leggings, and the ugliest dark brown boots you’ve ever seen in your life. He’s got the ocarina nestled between his lips, slowly descending each step with a roll of his hips that accentuates the definition of muscles behind the thin material hugging the shape of his legs.

Your eyes are wide, mouth falling open in surprise. “Jungkook?”

As he jumps down the last step he stops the tune and cups the ocarina in his hands, bowing slightly. “Princess.”

“What are you doing?” you ask, biting back the intimidated voice in your head that’s telling you you’re being picked on.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he asks in a low tone, a crooked smile crossing his features as he takes a few tempered steps towards you.

You swallow. How are you supposed to answer that? You take a deep breath, trying to drive off the urge to run as he advances on you. Yoongi takes a few steps back and folds an arm over his torso, cupping his elbow as he brings a knuckle to rest against his mouth with intrigue. He couldn’t hold out for one more day? Should I step in? He brings his weight to the front of his foot, ready to diffuse the situation.

“It looks like you’re trying to fuck with me.” You stand your ground, clasping your gloved fingers and calmly resting them against your dress in true Zelda fashion.

Yoongi’s weight shifts back, retracting the step he had taken. A direct accusation isn’t exactly something he would have expected from you, but he finds himself pleased nonetheless. He certainly chose a difficult target this time.

Jungkook gets close enough that you can see the tick of his jaw and the part of his lips as he drags his eyes across your form, settling on the cleavage created by your corset. “Some of those words were right.” He pauses, leaning to whisper against the shell of your ear. “Can you guess which ones, Princess?”

Heat consumes your face as his posture straightens. He doesn’t budge past the space he’s already claimed as his, but he doesn’t move forward again to invade yours. He watches, basking in the full on show your face puts on for his own entertainment. First comes the confusion, next realization, and then shame.

It’s hard to tell if he’s coming onto you or picking on you. You swallow, throat growing drier by the second. “You knew I was coming as Zelda. Weren’t you coming as something else?”

He throws his head back enough to feign exasperation while keeping his eyes trained on you. “Come on. You don’t like my costume?”

Instead of giving you time to answer, he brings the ocarina back to his lips and blows an obnoxious amount of air through the hollow space inside, producing a piercing rendition of ‘Talk Dirty to Me.’

Your shoulders raise as you inhale, suppressing the irritation bubbling within your belly. You wince, turning your head as a particularly shrill note escapes the instrument. Yoongi’s expression sours as he plugs both ears with his fingers.

Jungkook immediately stops playing and offers a sheepish grin. “Oops. I learned that one for you. Maybe I need more practice. Do you want to help me?” He briefly pauses to wet his lips, presenting the ocarina to you. “I can show you how to blow.”

You grind your teeth as your jaw ticks back and forth a few times before answering, “No thanks.”

Yoongi silently tents his fingers over his forehead and tries to massage the secondhand embarrassment from his skull. This is a trainwreck waiting to explode and at this point there’s no looking away.

Jungkook raises his eyebrows at you as he stuffs the ocarina into a small brown pouch hanging from the flimsy belt at his waist. “Ah. Sorry, Princess. I don’t mean to insult you. You’ve probably already mastered the art. Hah. Maybe you could show me a thing or two?”

Unable to form a proper response, your lips purse as the wheels in your head spin. Say something clever. Think of a comeback. Something. Come on. But here you stand, mind blanking for even the simplest of clapbacks. You’re having trouble coming to terms with the fact that your innocent little crush on the once “sweet” Kookie has come crumbling down with his facade, leaving your chest aching with the humiliation of your naivety.

He looks you over, admiring the artistry in the gown you’ve lovingly crafted. For a moment he’s lost in the embroidery stitched into the sash swaying in the breeze of a chilly October night. “I love your…” he trails off, eyes darting across your shape to capture every last detail of your attire.

He pays special mind to the gems adorned at your hips, and the heavy-looking chain belt which links the sash to your dress. He marvels over the color and velvet texture chosen for the purple corset at your torso. The sheer attention to detail and craftsmanship in your costume stuns him into silence for half a second.

His eyes reach the perky mounds of flesh peeking over the top of the corset. Miraculously his voice resurfaces. “...costume.”

The way his dark eyes linger on your chest isn’t lost on you. Your cheeks burn in the cool air, despite the goosebumps littering your arms. You cross your arms over your chest, higher than you normally would to combat his lurid gaze. The green hat atop his head folds over itself as he cocks to one side. Dark, hungry eyes snap to yours, voicelessly pouting at your blockade. For a split second a guilty excitement pulses through you, but you’ll be damned if you’re the cause of an obviously already inflated ego.

“You never said what you think of mine,” he prods. His eyebrows wiggle up and down as he slowly runs his hands along his torso, as if feeling himself up is going to sway your opinion.

You tell yourself not to fall for it, that he’s playing you for a fool right now. Still, your jaw is tight as your eyes helplessly follow the flow of his fingers down his body. His pinky purposefully catches on the flimsy pleather strap acting as the belt at his waist. An impish grin spreads across his face as he notes the way your chest stutters out the breath you’d unknowingly held. Satisfied, his hands continue their languid journey down his body. Your eyes are glued to the way he traces the contours of his thighs.

Finally his fingers dig into the meat of his those muscles and you feel the need to look away before answering. “I hate it.”

He sighs. “Hate is a strong word. Are you sure that’s how you really feel? Why don’t you look at me when you say that?”

Strengthening your resolve, you force your eyes back to his smug face. Stupid doesn’t even begin to cover how you’re feeling at this point. Biting back tears, you swallow hard and do your best to remain composed. Here he stands, a crooked smile amplifying the air of arrogance surrounding him. He’s playing you. He’s been playing you this whole time hasn’t he?

“I don’t even know who you really are, do I?” your voice cracks, only adding to your humiliation.

“I’m the bad guy. Duh.” With that he cackles as he pulls the ocarina from his pouch, proceeding to play the melody from ‘Bad Guy.’

You spin on your heels and storm past Yoongi, the blood rushing through your ears in a distraught rage, drowning out the bitter sound of the notes. A pang of guilt strikes the half-assed vampire as he stares at his friend. “One more day. You couldn’t make one more day?”

Jungkook shrugs, making his way back up the stairs. “If you see Hobi, tell him I’ll have his money tomorrow.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Dragging your hands across your face, you keep your gaze cast towards the ground.

How fucking idiotic, how self-absorbed have you been to assume that he’s been nice because he likes you and not because he was playing some game with you? He's probably just been waiting for an opportunity like this and you fell right into his trap. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

A hand clamps down on your shoulder and you spin, ready to deck the person you assume to be Jungkook. Yoongi's eyebrows raise as you stand poised to punch. He ducks to the side just in time. As you realize your mistake, it's too late. The momentum brings you forward.

His arms come up around you in a soft embrace, one that you're quick to return. "It's just me," he mumbles, kneading his thumb against your back. "...Sorry."

You bury your face into his shoulder, allowing the tiara to slip from your head and hit the soft ground with a dull thud. Why is he apologizing? He didn't do anything wrong. You want to tell him that, but any sound you make might bring about a slew of tears you've been holding back. Instead you just squeeze your arms around him even tighter.

He awkwardly pats your back a few times, not quite knowing what to do with the hug that's lasting longer than anticipated. Sensing his discomfort, you pull away and adjust your wig as you offer an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry."

A figure approaches, bending down to pick up the forgotten adornment. Out of the corner of your eye you see him rub the dirt off the tiara. Jin carefully places it on your head. "A princess should have a crown."

You look him over, noting the giant overalls, red newsboy cap and hideous fake mustache. You can't help but laugh as he forces a hard blink and puckers his lips, alternating lifting sides of his mouth so the mustache comically tweaks itself in a seesaw motion. "I like your costume," you manage between giggles.

He grins back, donning an over-the-top Italian accent. "I a-like-a yours too! A beautiful costume for a beautiful a-woman."

"Please stop," Yoongi groans.

Jin ignores him, fiddling with the corner of his mustache. "I don't-a know where my brother went. I think he's a-scared of the haunted mansion."

You roll your eyes at the joke. That's right. Jungkook was supposed to be Luigi. "He's busy playing a dick for the night."

A look of realization washes over him and he nods, puffing out air through overly inflated cheeks. "Hmm. You know what might-a make you feel better? Helping me scare-a the pants off of people!"

He folds his elbow and holds it out for you, tempting you to lace yours around it. Channeling your bruised ego and hurt feelings into scaring people for fun? That might just work. You feed your elbow through the crook in his. "Zelda and Mario working together."

Jin laughs. "The dream-a team!" He makes a motion to skip towards the outer entrance to the basement that he's dressed up with spiderwebs and a large, hand-made sign that says "MARIO'S GHOST HOUSE." Beside the entrance is a giant blown-up decoration of King Boo, its pink tongue flapping in the breeze.

As you're tugged in the direction of his creation, he stops abruptly. "Oh, we haven't had that many people though. So we have to make the few that come through count!"

Yoongi's eyes light up. "Hey. I’ve got an idea. I’ll get you a the best customer. But you have to really scare him. I promise it will make your night."

Puzzled, you furrow your brows and tilt your head. “Okay…?”

Jin grins like a maniac as Yoongi makes his way towards the front of the house. “Come on. I’ll show you the best spots to hide.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

About twenty minutes have passed since Yoongi left in search of his promised customer. Only a few people have wandered in. You have to admit it’s therapeutic to watch people scream and jump when you bang on the false walls within the maze Jin has somehow constructed in this basement. Watching people run up the final stairs to safety leaves you with a feeling of satisfaction, always giving Jin a prideful high-five before returning to the beginning to await more guests.

“Ah! My-a new-a guests!” you hear Jin enthusiastically greet the latest people to stop at the entrance. “Are you a-ready to have fun?”

There’s some hushed whispering that you can’t quite make out from your hiding place within the set.

“Don’t be such a pussy,” Yoongi chides loudly. “Seokjin made this. Do you really think it’s that scary?”

“P-Pussy?” Hoseok stares wide-eyed at his friend and scoffs. “Don’t be rude. I just know Seokjin. It will be worse than whatever I think”

Is that Hobi? You were kind of hoping Yoongi would get Jungkook to walk through. Knowing what you do now though, you have no doubt that Jungkook would be unphased by something like this. All you can hear in your head is the echo of his obnoxious laughter and a pang of hurt slices through your heart. God, you’re so stupid.

Yoongi points to the Boo’s tongue flapping in the wind. “It will be like that, probably. It’s silly to be so afraid.”

Hoseok bounces from foot to foot in uncertainty. Even a police uniform can’t steel his spine or guarantee safety. “Why should I do this to myself?”

Yoongi sighs. “I’ll help you look at new places and… help you move. I’ll even be your roommate if the rent is too high.”

Hoseok is beaming. How long has he been asking for help searching? Jin looks from one man to the other, hiding the subtle smile beneath his mustache. He knew Hoseok wouldn’t go in so easily, that something had to be offered up, but he really didn’t expect Yoongi to go so far.

Hoseok points at Jin. “You’re my witness. I go through this and he’s my roommate.”

“If the rent is too high only,” Yoongi tries to reason, but it’s too late. Hoseok has heard what he wants to hear. He grabs his friend and marches into the depths of the basement.

Immediately you bang the walls on their journey down, feeling Jin rush past you to set up for the next scare. Hobi screams. “Never mind! Never mind!”

Yoongi scoffs, dragging his friend forward. “Come on, officer.”

You listen for their footsteps as you circle the walls behind the maze. Hobi’s frantic yelling breaks through the room, slipping into loud curses. You pull your glove up and wait, peeking through the hole you’re hoping he’ll get close enough to. Even shrouded in shadows, Yoongi’s form peeks out from around the corner.

“Don’t think about the dark,” Yoongi says, slowly shuffling towards the wall with Hoseok crouched behind him, using him as a shield from any more scares. “Think about how you bet Jungkook he couldn’t stop himself from trying to get in Y/N’s pants, not even for one month.”

You freeze. Yoongi knows you can hear him, right? He has to know.

“Think about how well he was doing. You would have been cleaning his house tomorrow. Maid Hobi, bound by servitude.”

“I know…” Hoseok groans. “It would have been awful. He’s so messy! I wouldn’t even be getting paid! What was I thinking?”

“But instead, he bet you a month’s rent that he could,” Yoongi continues loudly. “He blew it tonight for the chance to dress up as Link and tease Zelda. He only had one more day.”

“He’s a dumbass,” Hobi comments with a nod, turning to look at the ceiling and making sure nothing is going to drop down on him.

You swallow, taking in the revelation Yoongi has just bestowed upon you. All this time you had spent thinking Jungkook was a sweet gentleman was actually due to Hoseok making a bet with him? You would rather have known Jungkook was a dick straight up because now the innocent, harmless crush you have on him feels so dirty and foul that you wish you could swipe it from existence.

It’s Jungkook’s fault. He lied. He pretended. You know this. But still you can’t help but partially blame Hobi for the bitter taste in your mouth. As Yoongi passes, you reach out, letting your fingers swipe down Hobi’s forearm and retract through the hole in the wall as he lets out a high-pitched scream.

“Hoseok, get off.” Yoongi tries to push away the man climbing onto his back.

“Something grabbed me! Something grabbed me!” Hoseok wraps his legs around Yoongi’s waist and huddles close to his neck pointing. “Over there! It grabbed me from over there!”

“Let’s keep moving, then.”

“No! No more! I’m standing right here until the sun comes up.”

“How is it standing if your feet aren’t touching the ground? I won’t carry you all night,” Yoongi says, adjusting his stance to compensate for the weight on his back.

“You will, too,” he pouts.

Jin helps you position a furry spider decoration above them, slowly dangling it lower until it finally hits Hoseok’s shoulder. The wail that escapes this grown ass man almost makes you feel bad. Almost. He swats the creature into darkness as he spurs Yoongi on by digging his heels into his belly. “Get me out of here! Please!”

Jin’s shoulders move up and down with the sound of his laughter as he slaps your hand in victory. Scaring Hobi made you feel a little better at least.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

The party has died down quite a bit and at this point Jimin has been passing you far too many drinks as he and Namjoon regale you with tales from college. Namjoon is clearly feeling toasty, laughing like a dork at every memory Jimin brings up. Apparently they were roommates and Jimin has a liberal arts degree from four years of being undecided.

Your head lolls around to rest on Namjoon’s shoulder, your backs pressed against the bottom of the couch as Jimin sits cross-legged in sweats and a t-shirt on the floor before you, his costume laying discarded beside him. He’s spinning his latest story of how Namjoon had accidentally thrown up on some girl he really liked. Yoongi silently lays on the couch behind you, smirking with his eyes closed. You can’t tell if he’s sleeping or just relaxing as you struggle to stand, using Namjoon’s shoulder as leverage to prop yourself up.

“Bathroom?” you ask distractedly, searching the room like a door will appear if you look hard enough.

Jimin smiles pointing at the doorway across the room. “Go out that door, take a left down the hall. It’ll be on your right.”

Your head dips a bit as you try to take in the directions. Namjoon looks up at you as you stumble forward, clearly off-balance. “Do you need some help, geeksquad?”

“I’m fine,” you mumble, hating the nickname he’s given you from work. “I’ll be right back. Don’t drink my drink.” You narrow your eyes at Jimin and he blinks at you in surprise, like you’ve accused him of such a heinous, unthinkable crime.

Rounding the corner, you pass a grinning Taehyung being led upstairs by a cute girl in a red beret, black and white striped shirt, and miniskirt with suspenders. Art hoe? Mime? It’s hard to tell what her costume might be. While his skin is covered in a beautiful mess of colors, your tri-force symbol still stands untouched at the center of his chest. You smile as you watch him climb the steps, clearly distracted. But as his back is revealed, your eyes widen at the sight of a mural of painted dicks. Well. At least he can’t see them.

You walk down the hall for what feels like an eternity, passing a few closed doors on either side. Maybe you should try one? Knocking on the one closest to you once, the door swings in and you lose your balance, not expecting it to open.

“What took you so long? I almost came without you.” The voice is pouty and low, somewhat familiar. He gasps when he realizes you’re not the person he’s been waiting for.

You stumble forward, falling to your knees and catching the bed frame before your face smacks into the wood. As graceful as you can manage, you pull yourself up. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to! I didn’t realize it was open and I was just looking for the---” The will to speak leaves you as soon as you see him.

A very sweaty, very naked Jungkook crosses his arms and he leans back expectantly, smushing the pillows behind him into the headboard. Your eyes take in the pleased expression on his face, quickly scanning the muscles of his folded arms, his chiseled abs, his bulging legs. The pointy green hat he had been wearing earlier tents across his sculpted hips and pelvis, thankfully obscuring any shape hidden beneath it.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again tonight,” he says, licking his lips as he watches your form tremble, practically falling apart in front of him before adding, “...Princess.”

A devilish grin overtakes him at the sight of you spinning around a little too fast, staggering towards the door and holding onto the frame for dear life. “I hoped I wouldn’t see you again tonight.”

“I can’t say it isn’t a nice surprise. You don’t have to leave,” he coaxes. “Do you wanna see my Master Sword?”

“Grow up!” You make sure to slam the door shut behind you. You hate him so fucking much it hurts.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

“Jennie, how could I be so wrong about him?” you sigh, dropping your forehead against the kitchen table. It’s been three weeks since you’ve talked to him, but it’s still the only thing you can think about.

Jennie takes a sip from her beer. “Sweetie, you’re not good at reading liars. Maybe you should look at some dating apps. You could get good read quick.”

“But I don’t wanna,” you whine into the coated wood. “Why can’t people just be nice?”

“Because. People suck. Come on, Y/N. Jungkook ain’t worth the headache. Drink with me. I’ll show you how Tinder works. It’s not so bad.”

When you don’t say anything, she tugs your chair across the floor, dragging your form close to hers and setting her phone down on the table. You peek out at the screen as you raise your head and rest it on a lazy elbow.

“Swipe right on the hotties. Swipe left on the fuckboys and losers. Jungkook? He’s a swipe left. But look at all these good ones on here. These are all swipe righties.”

You nod as she goes through a few profiles and begin downloading the app on your phone. Maybe she’s onto something.

[beholdme]

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 9

Chapters: 9/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

On a Tuesday in the middle of November, not long after Gerry's 28th birthday, the three of them eat dinner at Gerry's flat, as they often do these days. Jon cooks for them and after, Martin and Gerry wash the dishes and debate the book they both just finished reading.

Jon has been twitchy all evening, so they leave him to read his own book in peace.

He wanders in at one point, leaning against the counter. "Gerry, do you know what day it is?"

Gerry looks over at him in such a way as to indicate that he really doesn't.

"Our six-month anniversary?" He tries.

"No," Martin pipes up, "That's not for weeks yet."

Jon and Gerry both look at him askance. "What? Your boyfriend starts dating another man, you remember the date. I can't believe you two don't know." Martin says as if that about covers it.

"Nevermind that." Jon snaps, and even with his previous moodiness, the others are taken aback at his blunt words and even harsher tone.

"Something wrong, Jon?" Gerry asks quietly, leaning against the opposite counter to Jon and crossing his arms. His tone suggests what he actually wanted to say was 'Do we have a problem here, bitch?' but he manages to reign the actual words in.

"I want to know why you left without saying goodbye." Jon's words are filled with a multitude of frustrations, none of which are actually conveyed in his limited words.

"Yesterday?" Gerry asks, incredulous. "You were asleep!"

"No! Not yesterday." Jon snaps back. "When we were younger. It's been ten years today since you disappeared off the face of the planet."

"Oh," Gerry responds quietly, his defensive posture dropping. He leans his hands back on the table behind him, bringing his shoulders up around his ears. It’s a rare display of confident, edgy Gerry trying to shrink himself.

"I thought we were, you know. Together. Then one day you were just gone! As if you had never existed. Your mother wouldn't tell me anything at all, just sat there smirking at me, said that you were gone and she didn't know when you were coming back, or if you were ever coming back. Which you never did, actually." Jon has been pacing, his voice rising with each new word until the final words are shouted accusatorily into the space between them.

Gerry knew Jon had wanted to talk about this since the day he walked in the library and back into his life. He had waited, been patient, and Gerry had put it off in the hopes that he would never have to choke the words out. Now, that patience was obviously over, and he knew he owed Jon this explanation.

"We were together Jon. I loved you."

"So why? What did I do so wrong, that I got to wake up one day and find you gone ?" Jon's voice has become desperate, and they can all hear the tears that he is trying to hold back.

"Don't say that. You didn't do anything wrong. We weren't perfect, but we were always so good together. I... I had to get out of there. And I couldn't leave any clues behind, so I couldn't tell you anything, because it wouldn't have been safe for either of us." Gerry reaches towards Jon to soothe him, but he flinches away and Gerry doesn't pursue him.

"I don't understand." The tears have come, and Gerry desperately tries to hold back his own when he sees them.

Martin had up until that point been standing resolutely in the corner, trying not to interfere in their pre-Martin argument. At the advent of tears, Martin moves to stand at Jon's back, gripping his shoulder for comfort. Gerry looks bereft and Martin holds out a hand to get him to come closer as well. They huddle all together, both Jon and Gerry taking comfort in Martin's steadiness.

Gerry leans into Jon, sliding his hand around his neck and pressing their foreheads together. "I'm so sorry, love. I've never forgiven myself for just disappearing on you. I thought about you every day."

"I love you," Jon whispers as Martin rocks them both gently. "But I need to know."

"I love you too." Gerry shuts his eyes and wishes more than ever to erase his shitty legacy of pain and blood.

*

Martin drags them to bed and offers to leave them alone to their talk.

"Please stay," Gerry says, grasping his hand. "You both need to know, and I don't want to have to talk through this twice."

So they all pile into Gerry's bed together, sitting in a vague circle like teenagers at a slumber party.

As Gerry starts to talk, Martin drags him over toward him and begins braiding his dark blue hair. It's both an offer of physical comfort and affection (easily Gerry's main love language) and a simple way of letting him off the hook for eye contact.

With Jon staring at him quite intently, Martin doesn't think he needs any further pressure.

"Jon, you-" He starts and then halts abruptly. Jon reaches over and grasps his hand, attempting to further ground him. "You remember my mother. I know you saw how, how just off she was. Manipulative and controlling. By turns demanding and completely uninterested in me. One day I would be free to run wild for weeks at a time, the next she would have a meltdown if I wasn't exactly where she wanted me, every second of the day and night." Gerry blows a breath out, shuddering at the memory of a particularly bad incident with a vase that had left him needing several stitches over his left eye.

"Well, she wasn't always like that. I remember her being a pretty good mom when I was young, if distant. She was always far more interested in being a wife than a mother, and she loved the way my father adored her.

“When I was 7, my father was blinded in an accident at work. I remember the day the phone call came. She spoke very calmly to the hospital, before hanging up the phone and shattering every picture frame in the house." Martin is finished with Gerry's hair and simply leans into him, offering silent comfort. "He coped okay with his new disability actually, and I liked helping him learn the world again with no sight. My mother never recovered from her initial breakdown though. She was angry and petulant that she needed to help and support him for the first time in their entire relationship and became more and more unhinged over the course of a year.

"One day I came home from school to find a puddle of blood soaked into the floor of the living room. She said there had been an accident and my father wasn't coming back. She hit me for the first time when I cried. She told me that I was a man now, and tears were for useless girls and disgusting… Well, you get the picture."

Gerry pauses and glances between them. A few tears have started to run down his face, but he doesn't seem to even notice them.

"We moved a few days later, and that was all I ever knew about my father's death until I was eighteen, almost ten years later. I'll spare you the horrid details, but as I'm sure you've already guessed, she murdered him. She explained very, very graphically what she had done with the body, and that she would never be caught, no one would ever think to blame her, even if anyone could ever prove that he was dead at all."

The words hang heavy in the air between the three of them. Gerry feels the comfort of their touches, but can hardly stand the affection anymore. He gets up off the bed and goes to look out the bedroom window, arms crossed and posture hard.

"Then she looked me right in the eye. And she told me that was exactly what would happen to Jon if she ever caught me with him again."

Dead, cold silence fills the room.

Gerry turns back around to find them both watching him. "So, I packed whatever I could fit into my duffle bag, and I got the hell out of dodge. I ran. I ran because I couldn't close my eyes at night with seeing your face white and cold and covered in blood and," he breaks off and takes a shuddering breath, covering his eyes and sinking to his knees. "And I couldn't stand that she would hurt you because of me. That all your light and potential would be ripped away from you in blood and pain and nothing I felt for you could make even the risk of that worthwhile."

He lifts his head to look up at them, where they’ve moved to the side of the bed towards him. “And do you want to know what the worst part is, actually? I can’t get over the idea that even though I haven’t seen Mary Keay in 10 years, the ghost of her demons lives inside of me. That I'm really just… Her. That one day my mind will snap and I'll be a danger to you both and I'll be the one hurting you, just like she hurt him. And then I'll just be the same monster who has always haunted my dreams."

Martin and Jon exchange a heavy look. They can scarcely believe that Gerry had endured so much and yet is still… Gerry. Happy, flirtatious, loving Gerry. Gerry, who fills their lives with colour and spontaneity, always showing up when they least expected him, pushing himself into their gravity and asking for space in their lives.

Despite the rather violent nature of Gerry's confession, it doesn't change anything for either of them. Things are not yet settled between them, but they curl around Gerry on the floor and they cry together over shattered innocence and sacrificed futures, and Jon promises himself that he will never let Mary Keay come between him and Gerry ever again.

[jjyusmile]

room for one more? | lee juyeon

lee juyeon | room for one more?

pairing: lee juyeon x {gender-neutral} reader!

word count: 5k

notes: this is the kinda fluff that everyone wants, be prepared. a smidgen of angst bc why not and also slightly suggestive but we don’t get into the ~hmm hmm~ if you know what I mean? lee juyeon holds a massive spot in my heart and i wanna show how goddamn great he is in my mind so here ya go.

_______________________________________________________________________

The wind slowly brush your hair across your face with another gust setting it back into place – you were content. Every summer your family came down to the beach for a weekend of camping. An annual tradition. A tradition that slowly turned from thirteen families coming together for a weekend, to just you and your twelve friends for a night by the beach. You were around 17 when your parents stopped tagging along, with the boys’ parents slowly following suit. You didn’t mind so much though; some thought you were strange to hang out with twelve boys, but they were like brothers to you. Except one…

The crackling of the fire brought you back to reality, as tusks of smoke gradually rose from the open flame. Younghoon and Sangyeon were chopping vegetables and grilling meat, the smell made your mouth water as you swigged from your cup to fill the empty void in your stomach. It didn’t take long for Hyunjae to continue filling your cup further from the crate of beer he’d gotten from his uncle as a graduation present. This was the second year that your parents hadn’t joined; last year, you had gotten quite carried away with the strength of your alcohol tolerance, as Hyunjae loved to remind you.

“You don’t need to fill it up you know, I can barely get two sips in before its filled to the top again” you grumbled, holding back a smile at his cheeky grin.

His hand slowly retreated away from your cup. “Sorry, cupcake. Or should I start to call you Budweiser – King of Beers?” he retorted, his eyebrow lifting to taunt you further.

Hyunjae had called you cupcake ever since he and his mother found you hiding in their pantry at his 7th birthday party, icing smeared around your mouth reinforcing the evidence at the scene of the crime. You huffed and shoved his shoulder – he began to lose his balance and fell off the log backwards from where you were both perched on it. Your laughter filled the small area that you and the boys occupied, a sound unbeknownst to said boys. Except one…

You could feel his gaze, as he sat beside Sunwoo, humming along to the inaudible song he was practicing on his guitar. You turned to meet his gaze, which he quickly dodged and turned his attention back to the instrument in his hand.

Oh, Juyeon… You kept your gaze on him just for a moment longer than usual. His hair glistened ever so slightly under his cap in the light from the flame. You were sat directly opposite him, a prime position for the attention you hoped from him, but never got.

Your heart swelled a little, knowing that he had been looking, but gradually deepened once more when you realized he never actually wanted to be caught. The weight of the log shifted as a figure occupied the space that Hyunjae had just fallen from. You turned to face Changmin, who returned your gaze with a knowing look. He knew how you felt, he was the only one who you had spoken to about Juyeon. About how frustrating it was that the boy who used to sneak into your tent as his parents fought would now avoid you like the plague.

You were close to each of the boys, but Juyeon and Changmin held a special place in your heart. Their own life-long friendship didn’t mind being interrupted when you entered the classroom as the new student with no friends. Walking into your new class, your slightly discoloured dungarees and Power Rangers lunch box in hand made the girls turn away from you – you didn’t fit in with them, at all. But the empty space on the table with those two boys, at the back of the classroom, opened your heart to realise there was good in the world for a six-year-old. They were your first friends, and that held so much importance for you. This feeling was confirmed, 13 years later, by the slight nudge of Changmin’s shoulder onto yours, followed by a sip from his own cup.

“You know,” he began… “you can always approach him.” His eyes reflected in the orange flickers too; if you weren’t his best friend and subsequent pain in the ass, you probably would’ve fallen for him. His shy smile but courageous personality shone like the stars in the sky. You smiled at him gratefully, with a nod of acknowledgement, but not necessarily understanding. You knew you could approach him, you’ve known that for the last year or so that Juyeon started to avoid one-on-one interaction with you. It began when your Friday night sleepovers turned into just Changmin turning up at your doorstep with the latest horror movie he could find and a tray of freshly baked cupcakes, courtesy of Hyunjae’s mum, Mrs. Lee.

Sighing, you stood from your crouched position by the fire pit announcing that you’d just be a minute, before heading the opposite direction to the commotion you could hear near the tents. Changmin went back to helping the rest of the boys put up their temporary homes for the night, and you followed the shore to a quiet spot where you could watch the sunset. You could feel a particular set of eyes on you once more, but you were too tired to do anything about it. If he wanted to interact with you, he’d have to do it himself.

A cluster of rocks was placed perfectly in the sand for you to perch on as the sun turned the sky from a luminous orange to a dusty rose with stars randomly sparking across the skyline. You took your phone out of the kangaroo pouch of your hoodie to play some music, but halted at your lock screen. Your favourite smiles looked back at you as the picture of Juyeon and Changmin appeared – their eyes crinkled like crescent moons with their smiles wide, standing in front of the scary ride they had just pledged to go on at the funfair. This picture meant more to you than any other, because an excitable Changmin’s attention was on the ride itself, but Juyeon was focused on the person who took the picture. Your heart swelled again – a little more this time at the fond memory of your trip to the fair. You quickly locked the phone again before you let your emotions get to you. The boys cared about you a lot, and automatically knew when you had cried from the puffiness of your eyes and blotchy cheeks.

The faint sound of Sangyeon’s call for food grabbed your attention, and you realized time had passed quickly. You were sat alone staring at the sky, with a fond memory but heavy heart. You knew you didn’t have a shot at grabbing the food you wanted as the boys crowded around the make shift food table like scavenges, as you approached the table you were proved right. But your longing and heavy heart meant that you didn’t have the energy to care. Changmin reached over and placed a chicken thigh on your plate with a big smile that washed away some of your heavy emotion; you returned the smile thankfully and scooped the last of the rice onto your plate and grabbed the final pair of chopsticks that remained. You saw the boys munching on the corn on the cobs that you brought specifically for yourself, but again, you didn’t have much energy despite Changmin’s attempts. They were your favourite, but it was your own fault for walking away from these demanding and ravenous boys.

You took your spot next to Changmin once more. He and Chanhee were arguing over which part of the chicken tasted the best, an argument they’ve pondered many times. Their light-hearted attempt to spark conversation with the group distracted you for a moment. But the sudden weight that made its way onto your plate grabbed your attention. A perfectly charred corn, exactly how you liked it. You were quick enough to catch the figure that continued their route behind you, too familiar for you not to recognise. But Juyeon sat back in his spot and pretended like nothing had happened. But it did happen, and that’s what confused you the most.

With your attention captured, the content of your plate was left long enough to go cold. The change in the sky made the flames enhance the melanin of his skin that made you want to stick your finger in it. The way his oversized grey t-shirt rose a little as he sipped at the beer Sunwoo had passed to him, and the way his baseball cap was angled slightly that caused a shadow on his jawline was too much to ignore. It took a few moments for him to notice you staring, by that time his stare was just as intimidating – you wondered whether you should have chosen a nicer top and fluffy beige cardigan that you originally picked over the oversized sweatshirt and jeans you threw on moments before Hyunjae had picked you up. His stare softened slightly, a moment that went unnoticed by you - it seems you forgot that the oversized jumper you were wearing was the hoodie that Juyeon thought he had lost. Luckily, his growing smile was overshadowed by his cap once more as he turned away from you.

The conversation beside you was getting more intense, but you stared back at the contents of your plate. What does this mean?

The thought didn’t leave you for hours. You had said goodnight to the boys just after midnight, ensuring to avoid any eye contact with the one that was clouding your mind at this very moment. Changmin followed you to your tent to make sure you were okay.

“It definitely wasn’t the chicken, right? I told Chanhee that the thigh was the best part but I can’t win this argument if it made you sick!” His doe eyes concluded that as joking as he sounded, he was absolutely serious about his argument.

You chuckled lightly. “I’m okay, I promise.” Your small smile brought a wave of relief over Changmin. It warmed your heart to know how much he cared about you, and you hoped he knew it was reciprocated. Reaching over to kiss his cheek, you hugged him tighter than normal. “I love you, Q-t. Thank you for taking care of me.”

The slight tinge of his ears made both of you giggle, with his hands flying to cover the evidence. But his smile told you that he loved you too.

The noise outside of your tent began to quiet as Changmin made his way back to the fire pit, whilst giving out to Hyunjae’s “mWOHASEYO?!” that could have been heard across the ocean. These boys would be the death of you, but you wouldn’t replace them for the world.

You had taken your parents double sleeping bag this year, as your single one made you feel trapped despite the size of the three-person tent. After changing into your bicycle shorts and baggy shirt, you snuggle into the covers as the rain began to fall, splatters echoing across the outside of your tent. The squeal of Changmin told you that the boys were getting soaked and you did nothing but laugh at their misery. The bustling outside of your tent made you forget about your worries for the time being, as the calmness of the rain filled your ears. Hyungseo, Joonyoung were shouting for Youngjae to grab more beers beside your tent as they made their way into their own. You knew somewhere that Hyunjoon, Haknyeon and Chanhee were squealing just as loud as Changmin as their clothes got drenched.

Speak of the devil, Changmin’s shadow came toward your tent looking for a haven. The quickness of the zip made you sit up and shift the sleeping bag and your belongings that scattered across the tent so that you could make room. As he stepped into the tent, you continued your task, but played with a threatening tone. “I swear to god, Q, if you even get a single droplet of water on me or my side, I will absolutely, one hundred percent chop off your –“

“Room for one more?”

Your eyes snapped up in shock. You were met with melting brown ones that you wish you could forget

Closing the zipper to hide from the rain, Juyeon’s eye line slowly levelled with yours, a small smile on his face. Your breath hitched in your throat. The look of fear in your eyes made his grin disappear, replacing his once happy expression with a look of concern.

“You – How? – Why are you here, Juyeon? Don’t you have your own tent?” You hated how you stuttered. The habit you had gotten out of when you hit puberty only returned when you were nervous. A complete giveaway to the person you were trying to appear stern towards.

That moment, his eyes flickered everywhere that wasn’t your face as he rambled that “Sunwoo left the zipper open and the rain flooded our tent. He’s hopped in with Sangyeon and Hoon. But there was no room anywhere else. I can go and ask Changmin or Hyunjoon if they want to sleep here instead. I – I’m sorry if –” The faltering noise in your throat made him stop his muttering and look you in the eye once more.

“No – uh, it’s okay. There’s enough room, I guess. I only have one sleeping bag but I guess if we open it up it can reach over to the other side of the tent…” you stammered. This was not how you had planned to talk to him for the first time in a year. You thought you’d be screaming, crying, defeated. This was much different – but you took this as an opportunity to reconcile… hopefully.

Juyeon just nodded in response, and made his way over to the edge of the tent opposite you. Just as he used to when you were younger. There were two things that Juyeon came to your tent for: when his parents argued or during a thunderstorm. The latter thought combined with the rain outside made his original explanation seem a little skewed. The sudden nostalgia made your tense body relax a small bit, and you huddled back under the cover while passing the other side toward Juyeon. The slight tug told you he was under it and you could feel his body warmth immediately. But his presence made you feel more claustrophobic than your old sleeping bag ever did. Your nostrils filled with the scent you had longed for in all comfort-seeking situations – a subtle hint of ocean spray mixed with autumn leaves. It’s why you loved to be by the ocean, it reminded you of him.

Finding the silence deafening, he spoke up. “How was your corn?” You could see a slight smile make its way to his lips, with the limited light from the moon and reflecting different shades of blue through the roof of the tent.

“It was good. Thank you, I was devastated when I saw you scavenges had taken them all.” I admitted, a little too open in emotion, and completely forgetting the last year of silence. He chuckled lightly at your honesty – “I figured. Sangyeon had charred that one perfectly, so I snagged it before anyone else could get it.”

Your cheeks became hot at the realization that he meant he hadn’t taken it for himself, he was thinking of you. But the thought made you more confused than ever, and the moment of reconciliation slowly faded as did your energy. It was minutes before either of you tried conversation again, but again it died as quickly as it started. You were frustrated. 

Why has it come to this? What did I do?

But the only person that knew the answer to that, was lying a few feet away from you. Just do it.

“Juyeon?”

He hummed in response, to show he was listening to what you had to say.

Here goes.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” It came out quickly, a little too quickly. But the pain behind the question was no longer masked. And it made Juyeon lean up onto his side, leaning on his elbow as he looked down at what he believed was your eyes, the lack of light making it difficult to completely concentrate. That, and the loaded question you had just asked.

“I – I don’t know.” He admitted it calmly. But you were far from calm.

“You don’t know? You don’t know why you look the other way when I’ve tried to grab your attention. Or why Changmin has turned up to my house every Friday night since last summer all by himself.” You wanted to continue, but you were completely riled by the three worded, empty answer he gave to you.

“I’m sorry. That – I didn’t mean that I don’t know.” He began, drawing your attention back to the sincerity in his eyes. “I meant that I don’t know how to explain myself. It’s hard to talk about feelings when you’re too clouded in your own head.”

Feelings.

He continued, “I guess I’ll start with an apology…”

You were shocked. The candor in his tone made you want to never look away. It made you wonder why you had never asked in the first place. You were just as bad as he was by neglecting to confront the situation. You sighed and sat up, turning the small light on that hung from the ceiling.

As the light illuminated the tent, his sharp features became much more apparent. Looking down at him, you had switched roles. Now he looked intimidated by your gaze, just as you did when he looked down at you. But that moment ended with a crash of thunder and the lightning that lit up the whole tent like it had been struck.

The sudden flash scared Juyeon so much that he had jumped up and accidently hit the light in the process, flooding the tent again in darkness. Your hand went to your mouth in half shock, half laughter as you witnessed this grown man being scared by thunder just as much as he did when he was seven. His eyes were alert and you could hear his erratic breathing that made you want to comfort him just as you did back then.

Taking his hand and drawing variations of circles with your thumb you knew would bring him back to the present. But the charge of your skin touching was much more powerful than the lighting flash itself. It made you your eyes snap up at one another, now level as you both sat up in the tent. As your small hands held his right one, the warmth continued to radiate from his body into yours. It almost set your heart on fire.

The shock wore off and you started to do what you had intended as if nothing had happened. With one hand holding his hand in place, and the other drawing circles with your thumb to calm him down. It took him longer than usual to get his breathing steady, as the feeling of your electrified skin elongated the process. In the darkness, he could see your concentration on his hand which warmed his heart – it had been so long since you paid this much attention to him, let alone look his way. In reality, you both missed each other’s longing glances which was clouded by the thoughts of anxiety about your situation.

“I think – I’m okay now…” Juyeon accentuated his breathing to prove his point. But you didn’t stop, because you didn’t want to. The feeling of his hand filled the emptiness in your heart ever since he stopped talking to you. You loved Changmin, but nobody could fix this void except for Lee Juyeon. He noticed your hesitancy and took it upon himself to guide you back down under the covers. This time he was much closer, and he didn’t let go of your hand. You were content, you both were. The longing you had felt slowly faded as you had settled back into your reality together. Now you didn’t need to talk about it anymore. Anything that had happened was long forgotten by now.

You laid there together for a moment. Peacefully facing each other, Juyeon’s breath that fanned your face made you realise the proximity between you. But any anxiety washed away the moment his hand made its way to your thigh, drawing small circles. Just as you had moments ago. It had taken you this long to realise the size of his hands; the quick rate his chest rose and fell – you were focused on every detail of that moment.

“Hey,” he whispered, to which you hummed in response. “I’m sorry.”

You took a moment to take in the words you had wanted to hear for so long. 

He is sorry. Do you want to know why? Is it best to forget about it?

Your silence made Juyeon act nervously, as he used that hand that continued to draw circles on your thigh to draw your body even closer to his. His hand shifted your head so it fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. The sudden action caused a strong waft of his scent to drown you and bring immediate comfort to your anxious figure. The way your lips grazed his collarbone brought a shiver over him, a moment you will relish in for a long time. Your power over him going unnoticed until now.

These actions occurred within the space of a minute. The final action being the feeling of his lips on your forehead as he applied more pressure than normal, as his emotions got the better of him. Your thoughts clouded once more as you questioned the motivation behind the kiss – the only sound drawing you back to reality was the rain that hit the tent at a force.

You pulled back to look at him, but not far enough that his arms moved from around you. You were locked in place by the feel of his embrace and the passion that shone from his eyes. Your questioning look made him put his emotions into words, as they poured out of him rushed and stammered.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. I am sorry, I really am. I can’t explain how I feel completely, at this precise moment. The fact that you’re this close to me is extremely nerve-wracking. But I’m sorry that I’ve avoided you. I just couldn’t face you after I admitted it to myself. I can’t tell you when it began, and I don’t remember exactly when I felt the need to distance myself; it was a long time coming and I handled it badly, I know.”

As he paused to take a breath, you noticed how his hand ran back down to your thigh, drawing circles at a much quicker rate now to mirror his apprehension. The feeling ignited your insides and sent you into overdrive but his gaze was so overpowering that you couldn’t look away.

“There were times when I saw you messing around with Hyunjae that I just wanted to drag him away by the collar. Or if we were in a coffee shop and the barista drew your name with a small heart beside it, I saw red. Or even Changmin. He couldn’t hurt a soul. But it hurt me to see the way that you’d lie together on the sofa while we watched a movie every Friday. You’d team up to throw popcorn at me, while I tried my best to focus on the movie rather than the way his hand lingered a little too long on your hip to steady you from laughing.”

He took in another breath. You were unmoving. What is he saying?

“It has been years since I started feeling these things. And I tried to suppress them. I really did. But you captivated every moment of my day – from when I opened my eyes to the good night call we had before going to sleep. Even in my sleep, I could see your face. Just like now. I thought I needed to distance myself… but it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

As his hand came up to touch your cheek, you became lost in his words completely. The thought that he reciprocated any feelings you had were never possible until this moment. As your eyes traced his facial features, from the small feathered earring that hooked onto his earlobe, to the sharp contour of his cheek bones, to the honesty that melted into his eyes, drawing your attention finally to his lips that spoke the next few words.

“And like that, I fell in love with you.”

The reality of his emotions burst through you as your eyes shut and Juyeon closed the gap between you. His plush lips slotted perfectly against yours, as if they were carved specifically for one another. The touch wasn’t rushed, but you felt his desperation as his lips opened and guided yours with him. The slowness of his movements and the feeling of his tongue exploring your mouth made you melt into him; your hands moving from between you to the nape of his neck, as his pulled at your hips to bring as much contact as possible.

You pulled away first to gaze at him with as much love and passion as you could muster, with a lot of it taken from the sincerity of the kiss. You merely whispered the words he wanted to hear before he drew you back in again.

I love you, Lee Juyeon.

You woke a few hours later as the light began to shine through into the tent. You weren’t sure how long you had stayed up last night – a mixture of kisses, soft touches and moments that you had never thought possible. It was all followed by hours of talking; back to your reality.

A soft snore caught your attention and brought you back to being in Juyeon’s arms. At some point during the night the sleeping bag had been thrown off of your snuggled figures, with the warmth radiating from the leg he had swung over yours. His other leg wedged its way between your own, like a high score on Tetris.

Your gaze rested on his relaxed face, the worry visible last night had been completely erased and replaced with a look of content – one that likely mirrored your own. As your nose lightly tickled under his jaw, he breathed in deeply telling you that your sudden desire to take in this moment had stirred him awake. His movement shifted his weight from beneath you to on top of you, with his head now rested in your neck, his lips slowly trailing against your collarbone. Feeling his lips curve into a smile made your own twitch upwards, too.

Laying there in that moment, the last year vanished. It hurt you to think he distanced himself because of this, but you knew you could work it out. You always did.

Your attention shifted onto the pressure against your thigh and you realised that this journey might not be the easiest you’ve ever taken.

“Juyeon!” you squealed, as the realization dawned on him and the sound of his laughter filled the tent. “Again, really?!”

He shot up onto his elbows to lean over you, as he did what felt like days ago. The fluffiness of his hair made you want to run your hands through it. So, you did. His eyes slimmed into the crescent moons that you knew and loved as he took a moment to stare down at you, the glistening of his eyes filling you with adoration. With a quick peck, he got up and began to sort through the clothes that were flung across the tent in a hurry. The mesmerising curvature of his back distracted you from sorting out your own clothes. He began to hand you items of clothing one by one, implying that you were about to leave the tent. Something you hadn’t thought about doing. At this point, you’d neglected to listen to the chaos that ensued outside – you looked back at Juyeon with a slight fear.

He chuckled, the rings that adorned his slender fingers brought a chill to you as he caressed your face. “They had to find out at some point, love.”

Love. You shivered, not from the cold this time.

With a few deep breathes, and ensuring your clothing was on in the correct and appropriate manner, Juyeon took your hand and unzipped the tent with the other.

As the wind blew sharply, the chattered died down from the group of boys that had circled the fire pit with cups of coffee in their hands. Their faces turned from excitement to shock, with a screaming that came from none other than Changmin filled your ears as he looked down at your intertwined hands.

You and Juyeon looked down at what they were staring at, and then again at each other with a small, knowing smile that only you two shared. The shock quickly morphed into shouts and hollers as Juyeon led you to the circle to join them.

You took a seat between him and Changmin, who handed you a cup of steaming coffee accompanied by a wink. You quickly shoved him at the shoulder for his cheekiness, but turned your attention to your coffee when you realised Juyeon had placed an arm around your shoulder. You looked at him with complete adoration to which he returned with a wink and a squeeze of your shoulder. Unlike Changmin, he didn’t get a shove – just a flustered look that made you direct your attention back to your coffee, as a smile made its way to your face, and it didn’t plan on leaving.

[newobsessionweekly]

The pain she left behind

Title: The pain she left behind

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader, Sam x Platonic!Reader, Castiel x Platonic!Reader, Jack x Platonic!Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: language, character death, grieveing, Dean crying, angst, death, a little bit of explicit content,  violence, fluff, spoilers s14

Prompt 1: Loving me is a death sentence.

Prompt 2: We found each other. That’s all that matters.

A/N: This is my enterance for SPN Bi-Weekly Writing Challenge. I don’t usually write and all that, but I wanted to try something new and I don’t know... I tried my best, I hope you enjoyed it!

Tag: @supernatural-jackles

Something Dean has told himself and everyone around when they asked, is that he doesn’t need that in his life. He doesn’t need love, he doesn’t need to find a girl; he tried that before and it didn’t work out. But what he needs is to have his mind clear, focused on cleaning America from monsters, he needs to keep his family safe. But he failed, he met you and all his life was turned upside down. And sometimes he regrets the day they met you, because now, you are just too hard to forget.

Laying on the kitchen floor, heavily breathing from the enormous weight that’s pressing on his chest, Dean’s playing with a bottle of beer, switching it annoyingly from one hand to another over and over again, just as you’re switching in his head, from one memory to one another. He locked himself in his room for the past 3 days, binge watching some random horror movies wanting to wash away the need to cry, to scream, and beg God to bring you back to him, but it was pointless, he still cried himself to sleep. So he decided it’s time for something stronger; he needs to be back in tracks as soon as possible and be ready to fight the monster that took you away, there’s no time to grieve.

“Dean!” Sam yelled his name again while descending the stairs to the kitchen, abruptly snapping him from his memories of you.

He refuses to answer, he refuses to talk to anyone and Sam understands it, because he feels the empty space you left in their lives too, but he’s maybe more afraid than Dean to show it. Sam wants to be strong for his brother, he wants to be there for him, especially these days. Only the third time after hearing his name, Dean bothered to look up at his younger brother and allow him to see all the broken pieces of his heart spread all over the place.    

“Sammy, I don’t want to talk to you right now.” Dean’s voice is rough and shaky, tears threatening to burst in any moment and Dean’s aware that he’s going to lose it soon, but still hoping that Sam will not be around.    

“Dean, you have to – “

“I don’t have to do anything today.” He raised his index finger and stopped Sam, then he pointed to the fridge: “Now pass me another beer and leave.”

Sam did so and Dean thanked him with just a movement of his head, before turning his attention to the abandoned metallic box full of memories from his lap. A bunch of photos with Sammy, some with his mom and dad, few with his friends that soon became family, and even fewer with you. Dean doesn’t like photos that much, he’s not that kind of guy who’d let himself be photographed everywhere and every time, but now he wishes he was that kind and wishes he’d have done a lot more photos beside you. There are only six instant photos of you, with a red ribbon wrapped around them; six, one for every anniversary and one from the first proper Christmas the Winchesters ever had.

He’d have wanted to be that stupid kind of men and take photos of you everywhere: in your favourite pyjamas, curled up in a chair from the library with a leg under you, so deeply focused in research, trying so hard to fit in with his life; standing in front of a pan in the mornings when Sam would be out of town, only in your beautiful underwear, moving your hips while making breakfast for him; curled up in a soft, warm blanket on a chair, sound asleep far too many hours before Sam and Dean would come home after so many weeks of being away.

“Dean!”  

“Dean!”

You jumped from one of the chairs on the war room at the sound of the bunker’s door loudly opening. You almost caught roots on that place waiting for Dean and Sam to show up. You woke up alone this morning, no sight of any of the brothers or your angelic friend so you waited and waited before panic started to grow inside of you. You prayed to Cas and asked him if something happened, you started to pace around the war room when no answer was coming and then you sat on that chair and wondered what the hell happened with everyone. Bad scenarios running through that beautiful mind of yours and you were preparing for the worst.

But you were never prepared for what entered that door; Sam, Dean and Cas were fighting over heels to carry a giant fir tree, you could bet it is even taller than Sam. Your jaw dropped at the sight of Dean, all covered in snow and sweat beads painting his forehead, trying his best not to drop the lower part of the tree.

“What happened? Are you ok? How hard did Sam hit you in the head?” You tried to hide the fact that you were scared as hell with a sarcastic tone, and thankfully Dean bite it, but Cas not so much, because he was throwing you Cas-type of awkward glances.

Dean always rejected the idea of having a proper and normal holiday celebration so as you skipped Halloween, again, you pleaded and pleaded, every night and every day to celebrate at least Christmas, your favourite holiday. But a week or two ago, you gave up when you saw you were getting not even a negative response to your question.

Library was transformed and instead of two big and cold tables with some uncomfortable chairs around, there was a long table decorated with two beautiful candlesticks and little angels and snowflakes. The dish was prepared by Dean with a little help from you, and all around the bunker were hanged beautiful lights, some Santa figurines and angels. Christmas tree was decorated by you and Dean who got involved in this holiday celebration thing more than you even expected.

Sitting around the Christmas tree, after everybody praised the food, you were smiling proudly to have these special people around you. Jody, Donna, Claire, Alex, Patience and Kaia are your second family, and every time Sam and Dean would leave for a serious case, they’d prefer you to stay with the girls. Not because they don’t trust you, just because they’d be more peacefully than knowing you home alone so many days in the bunker. You and Alex became very good friends especially because none of you is hunting. Your boyfriend wants to keep you out of this life as much as possible and is trying to make everything as normal as he can.

Dean ripped you from your thoughts when he wrapped his hand around your waist and rest his chin on your shoulder. You smiled at him excitedly and then exchanged presents with the girls. Then you gave Jack his present, a blue sweater to match yours, and he sadly looked at you. You panicked a little when you saw his face and your body strained, catching Dean’s attention.

“Why are you sad? You don’t like it?” you asked Jack.

“No,no! I love it!” he immediately said, stopping you from making films inside your head. “But I didn’t know we were buying each other gifts. I thought only Dean was supposed to buy you a present, because he’s your boyfriend.”

“Oh, so Dean bought me a present, huh?” you turned to look at your boyfriend and showed him your most beautiful and mischievous smile. “Sam, you really should tell me with what you hit him in the head because it may use me too in the future.”

Everyone laughed at your joke and Dean could swear he had never seen you so happy in his life. He knows Christmas is your favourite holiday and he and Sam were always preoccupied with hunting and saving the world to even think about these holidays, but you understood and never complained. You anyway got to celebrate it at Jody’s place, so you never said anything to Dean, mostly because it was pointless; you loved Dean so much and you accepted him as he is, you accepted his life and embraced it, though he kept you at a secure distance from his life, especially to protect you, and offered you a life as normal as possible, but it was impossible after a certain point ...

Sam watched Dean from distance as he flipped through the Polaroids, with tears cascading on his cheeks, knotting under his chin and loud sobs shaking his body in pain. It breaks Sam’s heart, but he needs it, he needs to cry, to express his feelings, to get it over his chest, even for a moment.

Jack accompanied Sam and Cas and watched over Dean, but they stopped themselves to intervene when a bottle of beer loudly crashed on the floor and wetted everything around. All three of them startled when the sound reached their ears, but they stood still.

It was odd for Dean to break like that in a place where anyone could enter any moment, but nothing was normal anymore, it wasn’t normal for him to lose like that the love of his life, so he allowed himself to do all sorts of strange things in order to calm down even for a second.

“Deano!” you giggled happily in his ear as your body embraced him from behind, your naked body combined with his, just as clothless as yours. It is barely eight and he would probably curse for the rest of the morning if your plan on waking him up will work. It is your fifth anniversary and after long and deep talks with Sam, you decided it’s time to do a little more today.

After you prepared your special breakfast while Sam was leaning on the kitchen counter giving you small advices here and there, he decided to leave you two alone, teasing you, saying you can be as noisy as you please.  

You leaned over him and pressed your lips on his back, chaotically tracing kissed all over his shoulders and going up to his neck and cheeks and then right back from the beginning. Leaving wet spots all over his body, Dean rolled on his back, making you to fall on top of him, your breasts pressing firmly on his chest.

“Well, that is a very interesting way to wake me up, sweetheart.” Dean yawned and looked at you first only with his right eye, then with his left one, finding it very hard to keep them both open.  

You are a simple couple, but more like an old married couple who just puzzle up one another like you’ve known each other for your whole lives. Dean and you as well are not the kind to celebrate and do big stuff about it, just cooking together a breakfast, finally making time for you in such a long time and mostly spending the day together, talking and fixing the problems that you encountered on the way. You are just communicating, that’s your celebration. And this is all you need. But this morning, Dean felt it’s going be a little different. He can smell the breakfast already cooked and he frowned at the smell of fresh, hot coffee.

He kissed you with love, cupping your cheek and rubbing his finger over it, as he always does when he wants to melt your heart, because he knows your weaknesses so well. You cuddle in a little more before you decided to get out of bed and eat your breakfast, stalling a bit to telling one more time – or ten more times – how much you love each other.

“I wanted to spoil you today.” You told him as you put your underwear on and wrapped the red satin robe, the one Dean loves, around your body.

“You know what –“ Dean begins, chewing loudly his bacon. “I’ve been thinking –“ he stops again, sipping his coffee, giving you appreciative sounds as in he’s enjoying very much the coffee you made.

“Oh, no! Always ends bad when you’re thinking.” You teased him and laughed so hard when he gives you the Winchester bitch face. “Ok, we are serious this morning. I’m listening.”

“I was thinking... maybe we should get married.” He says.

Your heart stops at the sound of his words and you almost choke with coffee, slightly coughing to get lost the lump that formed in your throat. You dreamed of marrying Dean from the first moments when you met him. He’s exactly what you’re looking for in a man, he is smart, funny and you can feel his love for you, though he doesn’t show it that much. You love him terribly much and never crossed your mind that this day would come, despite the fact you wanted it so bad. You understand that his life is dangerous, complicated and he doesn’t have time for this kind of things in the first place. You never thought about changing a thing about him or his life and never said anything, because nothing bothered you in the first place. Dean loves you, Dean treats you so right and protects you that you never needed anything and accepted him with his good and a little less good things without questioning, because it is a part of loving.

You adore him with every inch of your being, and the fact that he thought about marring you shocked you, that for the first time, you couldn’t get the words find your mouth. He looked at you, still chewing his food, but he had more of a worried look.

“Ar-are you sure?” you asked and he grabbed your hand over the table and caressed your soft skin.

“Yes, I am a hundred percent sure.” He frowned a little before he continued: “You?”

“Yes!” you immediately responded, leaving no place for any other thoughts. “Yes, I want to marry you, Dean Winchester.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear that.” He chuckled and pressed his lips over yours, and then over your forehead. “I discussed with my mom about it, when she was around... She gave me her ring.”

He excitedly bit his bottom lip and then he told you to wait for him, just rising his index finger and then hurried over your bedroom. You smiled like a fool and your stomach flipped almost painfully just at the thought that he discussed this with his mother, especially knowing how important his mother was.  

He came back too soon and ripped out of your thoughts and he shyly asked for your hand. Dean placed the ring on your ring finger and you kissed him so many times, as he dragged you on his lap.

You planned your wedding to be something simple, just a dinner with some friends at the bunker, but soon enough, it turned out to be a dinner with all of your friends at the bunker. You are wearing a simple white casual dress and Dean is wearing his FBI costume, nothing fancy, because fancy was never the Winchester style.

“I am not good at words, especially not at speeches.” He paused a little and everyone laughed. “But I need to say that I love you to death, Y/n Winchester! And I am so grateful that we found each other, that’s all that matters. “

“I love you to death, Dean Winchester!”

And you indeed loved him to death.

In Dean’s head was repeating over and over again the way your body collapsed into the ground, as the last tears fell onto your cheeks when your eyes shut closed. Dean could imagine only a quarter of the pain you left the world with, but he never understood your enormous love for him, not even in your last moments when you looked at him and told him how much you love him.

As Chuck paced the grass and waited, you stand still as you had the gun He gave to you pointed at Jack. The nephilim is dangerous, he is a monster and must be stopped.

“Y/n!” Sam and Dean shouted as they came running towards you. “Y/n, no!”

“I understand...” Jack said, looking up to you from where he stayed on his knees, Sam and Dean calling your name in the background. “I know what I’ve done.”

“No, no, no, no! Y/n!” your husband came running to you, but he stopped as he heared your voice:

“Stay back, Dean!” you said, looking at Jack.

“And you were right, all along. I am a monster.” Jack said.

“Do something!” Dean told Chuck, but he frowned when He shushed him. “Are you enjoying this?”

You took the safety off as you overheard their conversation and looked at Jack one more time; he was standing in his knees in front of you, with his hands folded on his lap, looking innocently at you. He is just a kid, he’s no monster. You frowned; all of this is just Chuck’s plan. You put the safety back on and lowered the gun, throwing it away on the grass.  

“No,no! Pick it up!” Chuck said and approached the two of you and Jack looked at him with a frowning painted on his face. “Pick it up! This isn’t how the story is suppose to end!”

“The story?” Castiel asked.

“Look at the Gathering Storm, the gun... this is epic!”

“Wait what are you saying?” Dean asked Chuck, moving his sight from you to Him.

“He’s saying that he’s been playing us...” Sam responded and Chuck sighs “...this whole time.”

“Come on – “ Chuck started but he’s been interrupted by Sam:

“Our entire lives... mom, dad, everything. This is all you, because... you wrote it all, right? Because... because, what? Because we’re your favourite show? Because we’re part of your story?”

“Y/n, no offense, but your brother-in-law is stupid and crazy. This kid is still dangerous. So pick up the gun.” You looked at the gun but didn’t make any move. “Pick is up. Pull the trigger. And I’ll bring her back. I’ll bring Mary back.”

Everyone’s faces fell contemplatively, and you really thought about it as a possibility. Jack moved his looking to you and tried to understand what were you thinking.

“No!” Dean responded immediately.

“I’m not talking to you, Dean. I know how much you want this for Dean, because you love him so much and you want him to be happy and all crap. So pull the trigger and I’ll bring her back.”

“No.” You said and Chuck frowned.

“My mom was my hero, and I miss her, and I will miss her every second of my life, but she would not want this, she would not want this for Y/n. She wouldn’t want for her to have her hands stained with innocent blood and live with the thought of killing someone innocent, someone she loves so much, for the rest of her life. And it’s not like you even really care, ‘cause Sam’s right. The Apocalypse, Lucifer and Michael, you knew everything that was going on. So why the games, Chuck? Huh? Why don’t you just snap your fingers and end it?”

”Look...” Chuck started, but he was again stopped by Sam.

“And every other bad thing we’ve been killing, or dying over...” he scoffed. “Where were you? Just sitting back and watching us suffer? So we can do this over and over and over again? Fighting, losing people we love? When does it end? Tell me!”

“Y/n, don’t do this – “ Chuck said, but no one let Him finish one sentence.

“No, we’re done talking. ’Cause this... this isn’t just a story... it’s our lives! Leave my wife alone. So God or no God, go to hell!” Dean said, both of the Winchesters having their serious faces put on, while chuck smiled mischievously in the corner of the lips.

“Have it your way!” He said, then snapping his fingers.

Everybody watched as your body collapsed lifelessly into the ground, and Dean shouted your name, but the pain was too deafening. Everyone was shocked, and Sam reacted as adrenaline was pumping in his body. He picked up the gun and drunken in pain, he shot Chuck in order to kill, for you, for his best friend. Unfortunately, he shot God in shoulder, and Sam as well felt a killing pain in his shoulder.

Dean cried his pain out of his body, his soul and he tried to cry you out of his mind too, but it was too hard. He tried to erase that hurtful memory of you, but it just wouldn’t get off, it would play over and over again, just to kill him slowly and slowly every second. He broke down one more time, loudly sobbing and frantically shaking his body.

Sam ran towards him and crashed beside him, Sam as well having tears staining his cheeks at the sight of his big brother broken like this. There were too many bottles of beer drunk and Dean was not feeling alright at all. Sam’s arms moved around Dean’s body and embraced him, trying not to let him broke into pieces.  

“It’s alright, Dean! I’m here. I’m here, Dean!” Sam shushed him and tried to keep him from shaking.

“Everyone around me is getting hurt and they are dying, Sammy. Loving me is a death sentence, Sammy.”

“Dean... listen to me!” Sam cupped his cheeks and moved his head from his shoulder so that he can look into Dean’s eyes. “Dean, look at me. I love you and I’m not going anywhere, alright? Y/n loves you from a better place, alright? I bet you’re gonna get into the same heaven someday, alright?” Dean slowly nodded his head and looked at Sam between the eyelashes, finally he stopped crying. “Let’s go get your strength back and we’re going to kill that son of a bitch, alright?” Dean nodded again and let Sam put him to bed, hoping maybe it will hurt less tomorrow.

[hi-hey-haechan]

This isn’t showing up in the tags again. See, when I post at 3 AM, I don’t have this problem, but instead, it’s the middle of the afternoon.

102: “I know for a fact that you can be hell of a lot louder than that.”

110: “Do you think they can hear us through the tent?”

“The stars are so beautiful tonight,” Ten sighed. He was sitting next to you on a log that faced into the fire. There were three other logs, making a square around the flames, and the rest of WayV were occupying them. The six other members were staring at Ten, perplexed by his sudden statement regarding something so serious and meaningful. You were slightly puzzled, as well. He looked straight at Yangyang. “You know what else is beautiful?”

Yangyang rolled his eyes. He, along with Ten, were savages, roasting everyone left and right, especially each other. “I don’t know, what?” You could catch the tint on his cheeks, as though he believed for a second that Ten was talking about him.

Ten stared at him with a faint, condescending smile. “Y/n.”

Xiaojun struggled to restrain Yangyang from tackling Ten. You hit Ten in the shoulder affectionately before burying your face in your hands, slightly embarrassed. “Sleeping is much less painful than this,” Sicheng said, sending everyone a hint.

It was around midnight, and everyone had been sitting around the campfire, talking for hours as the daylight slowly drained out of the sky, cut open by the branches of the giant trees surrounding you. They were dark shadows now, the only illumination coming from the campfire and the lanterns inside of the four tents, standing in a line. The flames were smaller than they once had been, and there were embers that sat around the actual fire, ablaze in brilliant hues of orange and red and blue. The embers glowed brightly, contrasting against the dark coals, sticks, and woodchips, looking as though you were in an airplane, flying above a busy city at night, illuminated by all its lights. It was beautiful.

Before long, Kun was putting the fire out, and everyone was heading back to their tents, flashlights leading the way.

Your tent provided no warmth, and the cool night air was chilling you to the bone. The lantern illuminated the entire tent, and the silhouettes of moths and mosquito hawks were visibly standing on the outside of your tent, attracted to the contrasting illumination from the pitch-dark woods. Ten removed his shirt, flinching against the cold as he looked for the hoodie he’d brought to sleep in. The lantern bathed his skin in gold, the muscles of his back flexing as he looked around for his sweatshirt. His shoulders were broad, and you knew the skin was soft to the touch, as well as warm. You wanted to reach out and receive some warmth from his body, but he’d flinch away from your ice-cold hands. He laid back against his pillow and kicked off his jeans, exposing his long legs. You were immersed in the sight of him, barely able to believe how gorgeous he was. He quickly changed into sweatpants, not enjoying the cold air against his bare skin. The show was nice while it lasted, and you quickly scolded yourself for having those thoughts at that time.

You then removed your shirt, inhaling sharply as the nighttime air chilled you to the bone. Luckily, Ten’s hoodie that you’d brought for sleeping was sitting on top of your bag, so you didn’t need to look around for it, meaning less time exposed to the cold.

You braced yourself before removing your jeans, flinching as the cold air attacked the bare skin. As you leaned over to look in your bag for your sweatpants, you felt a decently warm hand gently run up your bare thigh. Your head swiveled around to see Ten’s face. His eyes were fixated on your legs.

“Can I help you?” you inquired, sort of sarcastically.

“Wha-? Oh, sorry,” Ten murmured. “I just...I really like your legs”

“Well, my legs don’t like the cold,” you said, pulling on your sweatpants.

“I mean, if you let me have my way with you, more than just your legs would be warmed up in no time.”

When Ten was blunt like this, unyielding and refusing to shy away from what he wanted, you had to admit that it was hot. Plus, seeing him change definitely made you feel some type of way. “But we’re in a tent.”

“But I want you. Plus, it will warm us up.” His face was persistent in the lantern light, and his eyes were pleading.

You let your hormones decide your next answer. “Fine.”

He gave you a grin then, his beautiful smile that melted your heart and could convince you of literally anything. In a flash, his lips met yours in a searing kiss. Every nerve in your body turned to liquid fire, warmth becoming prominent in your body and fueling your desire.

Before long, you two were inside of Ten’s sleeping bag, with him on top of you. Both of you had removed your sweatpants and underwear, but you kept on your hoodies, needing as much warmth as you could get.

“Don’t be too rough,” you warned him. “We can’t let them hear us.”

Ten lined himself up at your entrance, lubricating his cock in your arousal. He didn’t hesitate a second longer to slam himself inside of you. “Why not?” he inquired as you bit down on his shoulder to muffle your scream. The initial move was harsh, bringing in a sharp pain as he literally was splitting you apart. Your walls clenched around him like crazy, attempting to get used to the sudden intrudance that was stretching you open. You wanted to cry out, both in the familiar pain and the slight pleasure that came with the hurt.

“Do you think they can hear us through the tent?” you asked as you exhaled through clenched teeth.

“Probably,” he replied as he slid out slowly, teasing you, before slamming back in. His length delved into your wet walls, which were powerlessly clenching around him. “You’re so tight,” he groaned.

You cried out, not able to muffle your shout in his shoulder at the moment. You heard a raccoon scamper off from outside of the tent, and you could feel Ten’s laugher as his body shook with giggles. “Ten, please.”

“What? Please what?” He began to move again, thrusting his huge length in and out of you. You were conscious of every vein and ridge of his cock against your walls as he dragged through your dripping pussy.

“W-what if they hear us?”

“Then they’ll find out exactly how good I’m fucking you.” His lips connected to your neck, and you felt his hair tickled your jawline as he kissed your sensitive skin. His lips were hot against yours, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. His breaths and the heat of his mouth was sending goosebumps and feelings of pleasure through your body. Ten’s tongue flicked outward, making you shudder, but you pulled yourself infinitely closer to him. When he brought some skin in between his lips, sucking lightly, you let out a mewl before inhaling sharply.

When you gave him the okay, Ten began to move his hips. You had to will your body to relax, to adapt to the pain that came along with his thick length filling you up like that.

The spots that had once hurt were now stinging less, and every spot he was pressed up against was feeling good. Upon this, you found it more and more difficult to contain your sounds of pleasure, moans and gasps and whines spilling from your lips as your bodies stirred with incandescent life.

Ten’s mouth was still against your neck, attempting to muffle his moans but failing. He wasn’t the best at keeping quiet when he was feeling good, and you loved this. The sounds he made could only be described as “pretty,” and they were hot, as well, causing your core to gush a bit with arousal.

His thrusts were neither fast, nor slow, but they were deep. The sound of skin hitting skin was fairly loud, and you knew that the others could hear. You knew that you two should stop, but no part of you wanted to. Your entire being just wanted Ten closer, closer than he already was. Your legs moved to wind around his waist, and your arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

You could physically hear how wet you were, the squelching sound of him inside of you matching with the sound of his thighs and hips making contact with yours. He smirked against your skin, knowing all too well the inevitable effect he always managed to have on you.

“Admit it,” he whispered in your ear. He was breathless, and his voice was rough and hoarse. “You like the idea of the others hearing us. You like the fact that they know how good I can make you feel, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, fuck,” you whined. Your eyes were screwed shut in pleasure, jaw hanging slack as Ten hit the spots inside of you that sent your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Then why are you trying to stay quiet? I know for a fact you can be hell of a lot louder than that.”

Just then, his tip found the bundle of nerves deep inside of you, making you cry out, back arching up off the bed. He pulled back from your skin and gave you a cocky grin, knowing that he could force you to scream his name if you had to.

His hips sped up, pounding into you swiftly but deeply. He had the hips of a dancer, which could make you literally beg for more, as well as turn to putty at his expense as he skillfully rolled his hips into yours. Even with his face buried into your skin, the sounds he made couldn’t be contained. Breathless gasps and moans filled the tent from both of you, failing to stay quiet completely.

“Will you guys shut up? We’re trying to sleep, not listen to a pornography tape,” Yangyang called out from his tent.

You could hardly hear him. Ten filled your senses, and he was all you could hear and see and feel and adore with everything you had.

“Ten,” you gasped out, squeezing your thighs tighter around his hips, “I’m gonna cum.” A loud, breathless whine left your lips, and your legs shook violently, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten. Without another second to spare, the most intense wave of pleasure hit you, and your hands balled into the fabric of his hoodie as you thrashed under him, core violently clenching as you came on his member. You cried out his name, quite possibly the only word your mind could think of.

He continued to pound into you, chasing his own high, which hadn’t yet fallen upon him. The friction of your wet walls that were clenching around him so tightly, causing stars to shine in his vision, was bringing so much pleasure to him. Ten couldn’t contain his own moans when he came, a mix of swear words, moans, whines, and calling of your name as his hips stopped moving. His seed shot up inside of you, a sensation you craved more than you would ever admit.

Eventually, after milking out the last of his high, he collapsed on top of you, gasping.

“Are you still cold?” Ten asked cheekily. Your bodies were both sweating, hair clinging to your foreheads as you both breathed heavily. You let out a faint giggle, shaking your head. His lips then connected to yours sweetly, his mouth curled into a grin against yours.

Stomping from outside caused you to jump a bit. However, Ten recognized Sicheng’s voice as he said, “If you guys plan on going again, I suggest you go a few miles away. Maybe then we’ll be able to sleep in peace.”

[drethanramslay]

Gone with the wind

Pairing: Rafael x MC( Addison Jones)

Word count: 1.5 K words (this is a short one, I'm sorry)

masterlist 

Taglist: @miyakokurono​ @trappedinfandoms​ @openheart12​ @sekizincimektup​ @x-kyne-x​ @paulfwesley​ @zeniamiii​ @an-urban-witch-ig​ @ramseyegerton​ @noboundariesplease​ @mrsdr-ethan-ramsey​ @newcolonies​ @theodorepjames4​ @unluckygs​ @choices-love-affair​ @kaavyaethanramsey​  @caseyvalentineramsey​ @virtualrain202 @squishywizardhq​  @junehiratas​ @lilyvalentine​ @nooruleman​  @agent-breakdance​ @jamespotterthefirst​ @choicesfanaf​ @temptress-of-death-and-desire @ac27dj @oofchoices @mrsdrakewalkerblog @livingpurpose @humanpokemon @chaotic-ramsay-queen​ @oofchoices​ @ohramsey​(let me know if you want to added or removed froth tag list)

Warning: angst and swearing and im apologising before hand if there are any mistakes. its 2 am in the night so :P

Songs: Don't leave by MØ and Before you go by Lewis Capaldi

It had been an eventful day.

From seeing Kyra collapse in her pool of blood, to spoon-feeding Elijah's intern, to having a wild cat and mouse chase in Mass Kenmore it was crazy indeed. Addison has had five heart attacks and six meltdowns in just a span of 12 hours which left her tired physically and mentally.

But you got to see Rafael for like five minutes, so that's a good thing right? he inner ever-optimistic conscience pointed out which made her smile.

Even though they chose to remain friends, anybody within a five mile radius could sense the palpable tension between the two. The lingering gazes, the long hugs and the occasional kisses on the forehead spoke volumes.

Addison fucking knew that he wasn't happy with Sora.

Hell since the time she knew that Addison was his ex, the fights have started increasing in frequency. Initially, Sora would hang out with the group and during those times, when Raf wasn't looking her way, the death glares that were sent her way, left Addy feeling uneasy.

And that was just the beginning.

There were times when she would shout at Rafael incoherently and the sweetheart that Raf is, would listen to her 'concerns' and try different ways to make her happy. Be it by taking her out on cute dates or by showering her with cute presents or swooning surprises. Addy wasn't even aware about this entire fiasco because they pretended to be couple goals. She only got to know when they had gone out fo beers on the nights of the softball game.

He is such a good actor... Addy thought to herself as she entered the lift and pressed the fifth floor, comfortable in the blue scrubs.

The patient poaching was a wild ride in Mass Kenmore and it was overwhelming. Addy had still not come down from her high, the lingering effects of adrenaline making her restless. Ethan tricking Tobias, Baz imitating Zaid and the run in with Aurora was too much.

I swear I need to have one bottle of wine asap. Addy thought has her shoulders ached, a knot forming due to the excessive stress.

She entered room 532 to see Bryce sitting by Kyra, holding her hand and giving her a reassuring smile.

"Hey there K-bear. Gave me quite a scare this morning, huh?" Addy sat by her side and pulled her frail body into a long bear hug.

"Hey Big A. I heard the you had quite the Fast and Furious chase scene today, huh?" Kyra said with a weak smile.

"You wouldn't even believe it Kyra! It was so exhilarating and equal parts terrifying."

"Give me all the deets but before that.." Kyra glanced at Bryce and he gave another encouraging nod. "I'm sorry for being a her to you Addy."

Addison stopped her before she got sucked into the whirlpool of guilt. "No, don't be. I rather you vent all your anger out on me if, its giving you the courage to keep fighting." Kyra gave a huge smile and hugged Addy again. Addy's eyes fell on Bryce. "So Bryce, have you thought of the treatment plan?"

"Yes. So we are gonna do an extensive surgery.." For the next fifteen minutes, Bryce explained the complete plan for the surgery along with the pros and cons, and Addy listened to him with rapt attention.

"So what do you think Big A? Do you think this is a good plan?" Kyra asked with puppy eyes.

"Kyra, if Bryce said its a good idea, I have complete faith in him. You couldn't have had a better surgeon on your side." Bryce gave a grateful smile.

"Thanks Big A. You are the best."

Witnessing the exchange between Kyra spoke up with a mischievous smile. "You know, I remember when you two were clueless little interns fighting over who got to treat me."

"Clueless?!" Addison eyes bugged out.

"Little?!" Bryce clutched his chest out of horror.

Ignoring the offended looks Kyra smiled. "I'm glad that I have you both on my side." Addy gave a soft smile and reached to squeeze her hand, Bryce following suit.

"We aren't going anywhere." Bryce spoke. Addison looked up and she saw Rafael standing outside with his hands stuffed into his pockets. Their eyes met and Addy's heartbeat spiked up.

Bidding goodbye, she headed out and closed the door softly behind her.

"Hey Addy." Rafael spoke with a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He opened his arms and Addison walked into the warm embrace. She breathed in his minty cologne and suddenly all the distress of the day washed away.

He is like healing salve to my wounds.

"Hey Raf." She said as she stepped back to look at him.

"How is she doing?" Rafael asked as he waved at her. Kyra waved back enthusiastically.

"She is doing as fine as she can."

"Aren't we all?" Raf said as he looked down at her.

The memory of their previous encounter entered her head and she remembered. "What did you wanna talk about, superman?"

Raf's eyes averted and suddenly found interest in staring at his sneakers.

"No its nothing-" Raf began but Addy, turned him towards her, so that his brown orbs could meet her turquoise ones.

"Raf... I know that look. Its the look which you have when I caught you eating my M&M stash. Tell me, whats wrong?"

"I- I am leaving town."

Addison took a sharp intake of breathe. Panic started churning in her chest as she tried to calm herself. "How long?"

Silence followed which in itself, gave an answer to her.

"Rafael fucking answer me! How long will you be gone?!" Addy's eyes were tearing up and Rafael dragged her into the near by supply closet.

"Don't fucking touch me until you answer my damn question." She exclaimed.

"I..I don't know." Rafael stammered out.

Addison eyes widened and she immediately started rambling. "Where are you going? I am getting an off for the next three days. We could go together and chill and enjoy. You don't need to-"

Rafael gripped her shoulders stopping her. "Addison, I bought a one way ticket."

Do you ever feel trapped or frozen as you see the entire basis of your reality fall apart? That sheer hopelessness and the need to fix it, but you can't?

That's how Addison felt.

"No... Rafael you can't do this! Your friends, your girlfriend, your grandma and your job, is all here!! Boston is your life and you have always wanted to stay here and serve the community-"

"I want a change in pace, can you blame me?" Rafael said crossing his arms, his jaw clenching .

Addison's eyes blazed, the turquoise eyes, turning icy. She looked up at his towering height and poked his chest. "Don't for a moment think that I am going to fucking believe that sorry excuse Rafael Aveiro. I have dated you for seven fucking months and I know you inside out. You may forget or lie to yourself about us, but I damn well know you."

"So look me in the eyes and tell me the fucking truth."

"How can I tell you the truth when you are part of the reason I am leaving?" Rafael said through clenched teeth.

Addy was shocked and speechless. "Me? What the fuck did I do?I literally have been the most supportive person-" she managed to choke out before she was interrupted by him.

"Can't you fucking see it Addison?! I have a fucking girlfriend but I am still, like a fucking idiot, completely and utterly in love with you?! Everyday is a fucking tug of war between you and Sora and its ripping me in shreds. I am loosing all my sanity and to top this, I don't have a fucking job to go where I can just forget everything. I am fucking tired and I need room to breathe."

I am completely and utterly in love with you... That love confession was the best thing she had ever heard, but also like a slap on the face.

"Oh."

"Yes 'oh'. So that's why I have decided that I am going to yeet myself out of this hellish situation and start afresh." Raf said with so much determination that it felt like a stab in the heart.

"Rafael you don't need to do that, please. I'm begging you." Addison pleaded, tears streaming down her face. "You are the only good in this entire city. I- I will cease all contact with you until you get your head straight, as much as it hurts you. But please, please don't leave the city. I need you Raf."

"Addison, if I stay here... I-I can't last another day." He said painfully.

A violent sob shuddered through Addison and Rafael's eyes softened. He wrapped his arms around her as cries racked through her entire body. "I'm so sorry sweetheart... You don't deserve this shit I put you through..."

"Raf..."

"I know that I am leaving now. But if I do come back, be it one month or a day, I promise you that I will make you mine... that is if you still want me." he said, his voice cracking as he ran a hand through her blonde hair.

The embrace got over as soon as it started. She stepped back and cupped his cheek and smiled through her tears. "Rafael... there won't be a single day when I can ever stop loving you. I promise that."

"Me too sweetheart... me too."

[kittyanonymity]

A Ladybug in Gotham #1

 Marinette knows no peace 

Ok fuck it, we’re doing it!!! Hang on to your pants guys! <3 Also, just wanna say, I have loved every single Daminette fic I’ve read in this tag. You guys are a bunch of talented folks; I hope you guys like this! Also feel free to send me asks, and ask questions! There are some things that happen in the six months before the trip that I just,,,,,, REALLY did not feel like writing lmao >.> There is an allusion to some heavy stuff, but we won’t be getting into that yet.

Ages are 17-18, and Lila has been back for 4 years by the time they get to Gotham. 

Damian: 18, 19 in a few months ( like august)

Marinette (& crew): 17, (Mari’s b day is actually the month they’re in Gotham, so like april/may-ish??) Also Chloe is already 18

Tim: 22

Jason: 29 

Dick: 35

Bruce: 48

Ao3

Part 1 :HERE: Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Enjoy my dears!! <3 <3

Marinette couldn’t stop the smile on her face as she leaned back in her chair, holding the acceptance paper over her head.

“We did it, Tikki! We got the trip!”

Tikki whizzed around, fluttering in front of her.

“Oh, Marinette, I know you could do it! Madame Bustier will be so happy!” Marinette smiled as her kwami nuzzled her cheek, and the girl laughed, cupping the little god close to her face.

“It’ll be just what I need for inspiration, Tikki! Gotham is beautiful in the spring I hear.” With a jolt, she sat up, her chair creaking under the sudden movement, “I have to go tell maman and papa!”

She left Tikki giggling as she raced downstairs to tell her parents.

It was one of the most exciting days of the last four years, truly.

With the fundraising done ahead of time, all she’d needed to do was write an essay on why her school deserved the trip. Despite how she personally had been treated by her class these last few years, the school still had them actively involved in the community; and while she may not like most of her classmates anymore thanks to Lila, they still took their responsibilities seriously. They had rightfully earned this chance, she thought. As the year rep, she had worked tirelessly with the other classes and their reps to arrange preparations in the event they got it, and Mme. Bustier had publicly assigned her the role of the essay; Lila had not been thrilled about that.

But she’d done it!

They were going to Gotham!

Telling Master Fu abou the possibility went well; her master trusted her judgement, and he understood her desire to go on this trip. To be safe though, he decided to send Kaalki along with her, in the event of an akuma; that way a speedy return was always possible no matter what.

She was excited; but it didn’t change the fact that the trip was still a good six months away, a good end of the year trip before graduation.

‘Just a little longer,’ Marinette thought, a rueful smile on her lips, ‘A little longer, and I’ll finally have a break.’

The four years since Lila’s return had not been kind, or even all that fun. She did her best not to dwell on her emotions, what with a madman running around praying on any and all negative feelings; but she couldn’t deny the apathy she felt at times in regards to her classmates.

Lila had made good on her promise, truly. None of her old friends cared about her anymore, bar Alix and - surprisingly - Chloe. Alya had even hit her before summer break, claiming that Lila had told her Marinette shoved her down the stairs again.

And Marinette had stared right at Adrien, her boyfriend, and he had done nothing.

And she felt nothing when she broke up with him later that same week.

Finding out he was Chat Noir over the summer had been like a slap to the face, and she was just glad he didn’t realize she’d put the pieces together; especially considering how often he visited her balcony as his hero self. He’d always flirt with her as Chat, whether she was Ladybug or Marinette; and at first, she’d almost found it flattering. Then it started to make her uncomfortable.

She’d reject him as Ladybug, only to have him come whine to Marinette while he also made passes at her, showering her in praise, and pushing her to get back with Adrien. She started avoiding her balcony.

It left her stressed and on edge; Adrien only talked to her as Chat now. He wouldn’t risk talking to her at school, and after they broke up, her parents had barred him from the bakery.

But still.

Six months.

Six more months of hell, and she’d be heading to Gotham to destress.

She couldn’t wait.

~~~~~~~~

The flight had been rather dull, despite Chloe being her seatmate for the whole trip; they’d giggled over some awful american movie for the last half, and Madame Bustier had been kind enough to room her with Chloe at their hotel. The Grand Gotham Embassy building was massive, and Marinette couldn’t help but gape in awe.

Chloe snorted as she walked up next to Mari, her own carry on in hand as they stepped off the bus.

“Careful, DC, you’ll catch flies.” Mari snapped her mouth shut, and gave Chloe a flat look; the blonde only laughed, and linked their arms.

“Come on Mari-bear, let’s get our room key so our luggage can be taken up.” Marinette smiled, and nodded.

“Yeah, I wanna get settled in too.” She leaned closer to Chloe as they walked arm in arm into the hotel lobby, heading for Mme. Bustier, “Tikki is starving.” Chloe nodded.

“Pollen is too.” She said just as softly. Marinette saw Alix wave from where she stood talking to Kim and Max, and Mari waved back softly. She averted her eyes the second Max looked at her, and Chloe hurried them away once they had their keys.

Their rooms were breathtaking, honestly. Each of the suites her class was staying in had two rooms, each with their own single bed; there was a shared seating area between the two, and one bathroom, but it still had privacy. They each had a door out onto the connected balcony, and once Marinette sat her carry on bag on her bed, she threw open the balcony door, staring out over the cityscape in wonder. Paris was beautiful, the city of Love; but Gotham was gorgeous this high up.

With a thought of mischief, Marinette scoped out some good swinging spots for later before turning to see the bellhops unloading her bags. She offered them a smile and a sincere thank you as they left. She heard Chloe settling into her room through the door, and smiled as she heard her talking to Pollen. Master Fu had decided to send Pollen along with Chloe in the event that Ladybug had to come to Paris; she could bring another ally with her if needed, without having to search one out. And since Chloé had figured out her identity two years ago, she had been the best bet. Her new hero identity, Hornet, helped.

Tikki flew out of the purse at her side, and smiled.

“We made it, Marinette! We’re finally here! Do you think the Gotham university will be what you want?”

Marinette sighed as she flopped back onto her bed, staring at the ceiling, “I don’t know, Tikki; I hope so. The website was super promising, and the woman I spoke to seemed to think I’d have no problem getting in.”

Tikki hummed as she flew down and dug a cookie from Marinette’s purse, “Well, we’ll be here for a month, so it’s plenty of time to go and see the campus. I think you’ll like it Marinette! And once we defeat Hawkmoth, maybe we can start a new chapter here!” Marinette smiled at Tikki, sitting up.

“I think I like the sound of that. I’m worried about how… Adrien will handle it though.” Her smile fell as soon as it had come, and Tikki frowned as well. She floated over to her chosen and rested her paw on Marinette’s cheek.

“Marinette, his feelings are not your responsibility. You and Adrien broke up, and the fact that he was disrespecting your wishes as his superhero self was a major red flag. I don’t know why you were so upset when the Guardian took his miraculous.”

Marinette groaned, covering her face with her hands, and Tikki wove herself into her long hair, hugging the girl.

“I know he was your partner, Marinette, and you don’t want to replace him; but you have to know, Adrien isn’t the true Black Cat.”

Marinette went still.

“Tikki, what are you talking about?”

Tikki hesitated, before floating in front of Marinette’s face, “Well, for some of the miraculous, there are multiple people who can be Chosen, and some of them are better candidates than others. Adrien was the best option out of the people in Paris, so the Guardian Chose him; but he is not meant to be your Black Cat, he is just A Black Cat.” Marinette stared at her Kwami with wide eyes, slowly processing.

“So… you’re saying he’s not my other half?”Tikki shook her head, “No; and he was never meant to be. His actions have done nothing but prove that. I’m sure once we return to Paris, we’ll be sent to find the real Black Cat.”

And in a moment of clarity, Marinette realized she was out of Paris, far away from Hawkmoth; so when tears rose to her eyes, she let them come. She covered her mouth as she sobbed, and she bent over, resting her elbows on her knees as she breathed.

“Oh, Marinette, don’t cry! Please don’t be sad!” Tikki fluttered around her anxiously as she cried, and after a moment, Marinette laughed; it was a bit raspy, but it was happy. She spared a glance at her, where, in a secret pocket, she had stored Plagg's slumbering miraculous; she looked back at her own kwami.

“Tikki, I’m-I’m not sad, I’m… I’m so relieved.” Her smile was weak, but sincere, “I was terrified that he was an inevitability I’d have to just accept…” Tikki’s frown grew, and she hugged her chosen again, little tears leaking down her face.

“I’m so sorry Marinette, I wish you didn’t have to feel so much negativity all the time.”

A knock at her and Chloe’s shared door cut her off before she could reply, and Marinette looked over in time to see Chloe peek in. The blonde’s eyes grew wide when she saw Mari crying, and she rushed over, sitting on the bed next to her.

“What’s wrong, Mari-bear?”

And Marinette laughed, wrapping her arms around Chloe.

“For once, nothing!” 

Chloe shared a look with Tikki while the kwami spoke with Pollen in hushed tones, but she just hugged her friend closer. They sat in silence for awhile, waiting while Marinette composed herself. With a final sniffle, Marinette leaned back and gave Chloe a grin.

“Since it’s a rest day, do you think they’d let us check out the surrounding boutiques? I wanna see what kind of fashion Gotham has.”

Chloe snorted, but it was in good humor, “Nothing they have here could compare to what you make, Mari-bear, or even what Paris has in general.” With a smile, Chloe reached over and tapped her nose, “But I’m sure Mme. Bustier will allow it as long as you’re with someone as amazing as me.”

Chloe had learned long ago not to pry into Marinette’s business, and since she’d split up with Adrien, Chloe had learned just how true that statement was; learning that the blonde boy was Chat Noir and that he’d been harassing Marinette on her balcony? That had been an accident, though Marinette had been the one to tell her.

Chloe could only watch Marinette flinch away from the Cat hero so much before she’d gotten concerned, and asked for an explanation. And Marinette hadn’t held back; she’d told Chloe everything, from the midnight visits, to how he constantly complained about Ladybug - herself -, and finally to how he flirted with her as Marinette, and kept insinuating that she get back with Adrien.

As the only one who knew, Chloe had doubled down on partnering with Marinette for everything after that; and now that his miraculous had been reclaimed, Chloe wanted to sigh in relief.

If you’d told either girl four years ago that they would be inseparable even at the end of lycée, they would’ve scoffed and told you you were crazy; and yet here they were, Chloe helping Marinette clean up her face before they went to see madame Bustier. It was only around 3 pm in Gotham, and dinner wouldn’t be until 8; and as much as Marinette wanted to enjoy the indoor pool, she would much rather see the city.

Once they were ready, Chloe led them down to the lobby, kwamis secure in their purses, and found Miss Bustier talking with one of the receptionists. Chloe - being, well, Chloe - walked over, and interrupted.

“Mme. Bustier, Mari-bear and I are going to look at the boutiques across the street. Call me if you need us.” And leaving their teacher spluttering and indignant, Chloe led them away, and out the doors. Marinette laughed a bit as they were out of hearing range.

“She’s going to kill you Chloe, you know that?” Chloe smiled while they stood at the crosswalk waiting to cross, and she flipped her blonde bob over her shoulder.

“Please. That woman wishes she could do anything to stop me.” Marinette watched as Chloe’s smile fell, and they walked as the walk sign lit up. “Besides, of course I’m not going to listen to a teacher who has let Lila just do as she pleases. She’s just as complicit in your abuse as the rest of the class is, Mari-bear, and I will not tolerate it. It's utterly ridiculous.”

Marinette felt her heart warm, and her smile softened before she hugged Chloe’s arm closer to her. “Thanks, Chlo. Though you know~” Chloe groaned, knowing where Marinette was going with this, “you also used to torment me pretty relentlessly.”

Chloe levelled her with a flat look as they walked into a store, “Yes, we’ve established that, DC, thank you for reminding me.” Chloe pinched Marinette’s cheek with a grin, “Such a goody goody, you know that?” Marinette laughed, and batted her hand away.

“Come on, let’s see what they’ve got, dork.” She ignored Chloe’s indignant squawk, and laughed as she started looking through the clothes.

Marinette and Chloe talked idly while they browsed, but found nothing of note in the first store other than a cute pair of bulky sneakers that Marinette couldn’t help but buy. Chloe had rolled her eyes and commented on how thin they made her legs look; which of course, made Marinette reveal the inspiration behind the choice. BLACKPINK was a pretty popular K-pop girl group, and Marinette had fallen in love with their style since day one. The baggy pants with big shoes they often used was something Marinette found herself enjoying more than she ever thought she would, but she just hadn’t found the right pair of shoes until now.

The next store was much better, in Chloe’s opinion; Marinette shied away from the Agreste line on display, and followed Chloe over to where her mother’s work was displayed. Audrey was a difficult woman, but neither of them could deny her talent in the industry.

Both girls ended up leaving with something to fit in their wardrobes. Chloe had chosen a deep purple blouse with ruffled sleeves; Marinette had giggled, telling her she reminded her of a witch, but the color was excellent on her. Marinette had gone more simple and fun, opting for a zip up hoodie inspired by one of Gotham’s own heroes, Robin. It may have been spring in Gotham, but being Ladybug, Marinette was very susceptible to the cold; she’d get sluggish and sleepy, and spring in the states was cooler than in France.

By the time they were bored of the shops, it was only five o’ clock. Chloe stifled a yawn, and Marinette looked at her.

“Why don’t you go ahead and head back Chloe? I’m gonna go sit in the park there, and try to design for a bit.” Chloe stared at her for a moment before she looked at the park. It was visible from the front of the hotel, and their hotel was in the better part of the city. Well, all that, and the fact that Marinette was Ladybug...  

Chloe nodded, taking Marinette’s shopping bag for her since the girl had already put on her new hoodie, “That should be ok. But I swear, DC, if something happens, I am not letting you go anywhere alone for the rest of this trip.” Marinette laughed, and waved off her concerns.

“Don’t worry, Chlo, if anything happens, I can handle it.” Feeling playful, Marinette raised her arm, and flexed, “After all, these guns aren’t just for show.”

Listening to Chloe laugh hysterically was always a treat, and it warmed Marinette from her toes to her head every time. In some small way, she was grateful to Lila; if it hadn’t been for her, she and Chloe would’ve probably never become such good friends.

“Ugh, no one likes a show off, Marinette.”

The smile fell from her face instantly, and Chloe’s laughter cut off like someone flipped a switch. Mari turned to see Lila standing behind her with a smug smile, though it had been Alya who spoke, Alya who was glaring at her with disdain. Nino was behind them looking kind of uncomfortable, Adrien next to him, backed up by Rose and Juleka, and even Sabrina. Marinette flinched under the harsh stares, and felt herself shrink as she stepped back, but before she could say anything, Chloe was there, a snarl marring her lips.

“Funny how you say that Cesaire, given who you’re friends with.” She blocked their line of sight to Marinette, though it was only Lila’s and Alya’s, and Marinette could feel Adrien staring at her, “You think what Mari was doing was showing off? Then what do you call Lila bragging about all the fake shit she’s done, huh?” Chloe didn’t even give her time to respond before she scoffed, and rolled her eyes, shutting down Alya's retort, “Oh, wait, nevermind, I forgot. You’re such a terrible reporter you don’t even fact check anymore, my bad.” Chloe smiled at the end, before making a shooing motion with her hand, “Now begone. I don’t appreciate sheep breathing my air.”

Lila turned on the waterworks as Chloe turned away, and gently guided Marinette down the sidewalk to the park they’d been talking about; Alya was shouting after them, but they continued on. Once they were out of sight, Chloe wrapped her friend in a hug, and Marinette cried. It was how it happened every time, for the last three years, since Chloe had decided to stick to the girl’s side. She’d only known about her being Ladybug for two years, but even before then, she’d made efforts to befriend the girl she’d bullied; because Lila was somehow so much worse than even Chloe was, and it was plain for the blonde to see. It had become routine at this point.

Lila and Alya would gang up on Marinette, Chloe would make them back off, and then comfort Marinette. Mari had told her time and time again, she didn’t need to do that, but Chloe knew she did. Chloe had messed up too many times to count, and she knew Marinette still cared about some of their classmates, especially Alix since she was the only other one who would hang out with them.

But Chloe?

Chloe had never cared about sparing people’s feelings until she’d become Marinette’s support. She would tear them down each time they came for her best friend. Alix had told her she was ‘fierce’, and Chloe thought it was an accurate description nowadays. They were nearly adults for crying out loud; you’d think her idiot classmates would’ve caught on to Lila’s lies by now.

“Are you ok?” Chloe asked softly. She rubbed soothing circles into Marinette’s back as the girl calmed down, her cries giving way to sniffles. Marinette nodded, pulling back and wiping her eyes.

“I-I think so. Thanks Chloe. It feels… It actually feels so much better to just let it out, and not have to worry about getting akumatized.” Chloe nodded, brushing some hair out of Marinette’s face.

“Good. Cesaire is lucky I didn’t deck her. Like, seriously, what a hypocrite.” Chloe was fuming, but she softened when Marinette laughed, “Do you still wanna sit in here and try to design?”

Marinette cleared her throat, and nodded, “Yeah, I do. It’ll be nice, I think.” She rubbed at her face some more, wiping the moisture away, but her red eyes remained. “I just want to decompress for a bit, you know?”

Chloe nodded, “Ok, then I’m gonna go ahead and go back to our room.” She gave her friend a severe look, “And I’m serious, Marinette. If anything happens, you call or text me, ok?”

Marinette rolled her eyes, but smiled, “Chloe you’re not my bodyguard, you know that right?”

Chloe scoffed, “Bullshit, I am so. And I am totally the best at it, by the way.”

Marinette hugged Chloe tight, startling the other girl, “Thanks, Chlo. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Chloe’s mind flashed back to a dark night on the Seine from three years ago; of tears, and horrible wishes, and she wraps her arms around Marinette in a tighter embrace.

“Probably get lost, and then kidnapped, honestly. Your sense of direction is awful, Mari-bear.”

It worked, sparking another laugh out of her best friend, and Chloe wanted to sigh in relief.

“Now go and find yourself a nice spot to sit. I’m going to make sure Lie-la and her little goonies are gone.” Marinette nodded as they separated, and Chloe booped her on the nose, “I’ll see you back at the room, DC.”

With that, Chloe waved and walked back towards the entrance of the park. She needed to talk to Alix. Lila always planned something big when Chloe defended Mari, and she was sure this time would be no different. She needed to be ready.

And without the risk of being akumatized?

Well.

Chloe couldn’t help but laugh.

Lila wouldn’t know what hit her.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Marinette found a soft patch of grass in the sun behind a wall of bushes, and sighed as she sat her purse on the ground, and flopped down. She could hear the rush of cars on the street over, and sirens in the far distance; there were birds singing in the trees around her, and children laughing over at the playground she’d passed. It was peaceful.

“Marinette? Are you ok?”

She smiled as Tikki nestled into her long hair, offering her comfort.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m ok Tikki. I just wish they’d stop. It’s lessened since Chloe became my friend, but it doesn’t change the fact that it hurts. Hearing Alya say such awful things to me, even now…” Marinette sighed, feeling her eyes tear up; nope, she was done for today, she could cry again tomorrow, “It still feels like a knife in my lungs.”

And she knew what that felt like; Sharpener had been an akuma from two years ago. She was a chef who’d gotten akumatized because her coworker had broken her best knife out of jealousy. Chat Noir had been distracted during the fight, and Ladybug had missed the akuma’s approach, taking the knife right between her ribs. Her Miraculous Cure had healed her, but Marinette still remembered the pain quite vividly.

She’d almost been akumatized after the fight was over, having been sent into a panic attack.

Shaking herself out of it, Marinette reached over into her purse and pulled out her sketchbook. She’d upgraded from her little clasp bag that she’d made to something with a bit more utility. It was a lavender shoulder bag with a cross strap, and it was large enough to hold her sketchpad, and a few other essentials while leaving plenty of room for Tikki and Kaalki, along with the pocket for Plagg's miraculous box.

“Marinette, I know their treatment of you still hurts. I’d be more worried if it didn’t. But remember,” And Marinette looked at Tikki, surprised to see the bright smile on the kwami’s face, “you’re Ladybug, with or without the mask, and if they can’t see how sincere and kind you are, then they never deserved you in the first place.” Tikki flew forward, and hugged Marinette’s cheek, “You’re  the best Ladybug I’ve ever had, and you mean so much to me. I hate seeing people hurt you, and I’m sorry I can’t do more for you, Marinette.”

“Tikki’s right, Marinette.” Mari glanced down to see Kaalki poking her head out of the purse, a smile on her face, “You’re an excellent Ladybug, and you’ll be an excellent Guardian one day, we all know it.”

Mari smiled, reaching down and rubbing Kaalki’s head gently, “Thanks Kaalki, thank you Tikki. I love you guys. You hungry?” Both kwamis said yes, and so Marinette handed Tikki a couple cookies, while Kaalki dove into the small pile of sugar cubes Marinette gave her. Tikki and Kaalki conversed quietly in her purse, and Marinette finally turned her attention to her sketchbook.

Humming to herself, Marinette drifted off as her pencil danced across the paper. It was easy to get lost in the sounds of the park around her, and she was thrilled with what she was coming up with. Already, dresses and casual clothes filled the next few pages of her book as she worked. She was just about to ask Tikki something when an explosion rocked the earth.

Marinette yelped as the ground beneath her rumbled, and Tikki burrowed into her hair in a panic.

“What was that, Marinette?!” Marinette shook her head, getting to her feet, and putting her bag over her shoulder, reaching in, and patting Kaalki in reassurance. She crawled to the edge of the bush where all the commotion had originated from, and peeked out carefully. Most of the people were gone, but she could still hear crying somewhere.

Then the laughter started.

Marinette felt a chill go down her spine. While her and the other reps of the school had been planning this trip, she had researched about every danger Gotham had to offer, looking at pictures, reading articles, and watching as many videos as she could find; she knew that laugh now.

She was just about to hide again, when she saw the source of the crying. A little girl with dark hair sat in the dirt behind a trash can, holding her hands to her eyes while she sobbed. Mind made up, Marinette dashed from the bushes, keeping low until she reached the child. She wrapped her arms around her, and when the girl tensed, she smiled gently.

“Shhh, it’s ok, honey, I’ve got you. Where’s your parents?” The little girl shook her head, tiny hands clutching Marinette’s jacket.

“N-not- h-here! B-babysitter left m-me…!” Another sob wracked the little girl’s frame, and Marinette hugged her tighter at the sound of gunfire. She needed to get out of here, get this girl to safety, but she couldn’t transform. Idly, Marinette toyed with the metal yo-yo in her purse, a gift from Master Fu that could help her fight as a civilian. She could do this.

Focusing back on the girl, Marinette pulled her back until they could look at each other; the girl’s eyes were a vibrant green, almost neon even.

“My name’s Marinette, what’s yours sweetheart?” The girl caught her breath long enough to answer, wiping at her face.

“M-Mar’i Grayson, miss.” Marinette nodded, looking at the girl in reassurance.

“I’m going to get you out of here. Let me check the area, ok? Stay behind me.” Mar’i nodded, clutching the sleeve of Marinette’s hoodie, while she leaned out around the trash can to observe their surroundings; and she promptly cursed her rotten luck.

Joker was strolling through the park with about three henchmen around him; 4 on 1 odds were not in her favor, especially with Mar’i. Marinette glanced at the little girl who was crying silently next to her, trying to not think about how much worse Joker looked in real life. Marinette found she was terrified.

No. 

She had to do something. She was Ladybug, with or without her damn mask, and she was going to protect this little girl with her life.

Marinette took a deep breath, and braced herself, “Mar’i.” The little girl looked at her with wide eyes, and Marinette smiled.

“Stay behind me, ok?” She waited until Mar’i nodded, and then they waited; and Marinette listened.

“Can’t seem to find her boss. She must’ve gotten out.”

“Oh hogwash! I saw that babysitter of hers scamper out of here without the brat, so Grayson’s daughter is here somewhere!”

Oh my god.

They were after Mar’i? Why?

‘Doesn’t matter, not gonna get her.’ Marinette thought aggressively. So she calmed herself, and she listened, and she waited until they were in range. And once they were, Marinette moved.

Leaping up out of her crouch, Marinette moved Mar’i behind her right as the group turned to look at them; but Marinette was already grabbing the trash can with both hands, and hurling it at the goons and their boss. It had the desired effect, and the group scattered, but it managed to take down two of Joker’s men, knocking one out from the sheer force while the other lost the grip on his gun, losing it in the bushes. Moving quickly, Marinette swiped Mar’i up with her free hand while she retrieved the carbon fiber yo-yo from her purse with her other.

Whipping it forward, Marinette snagged the gun of the third minion, yanking it away and to her; and then she ran.

“She’s got the brat! Get after her, you idiots!”

Marinette sprinted for the entrance of the park after throwing the gun away, running as fast as her legs could carry her; which admittedly, was quite fast. Years of being bonded with Tikki, plus the extra training she’d picked up in her free time made her formidable even out of her suit; and she was not about to let that clown get his filthy hands on this precious girl.

Marinette yelped as a bullet impacted the dirt next to her feet, and then she was bobbing and weaving, dodging bullets before she ducked behind the bathrooms.

“Get the kid, damnit! God, why are you all so useless!”

Marinette looked down at Mar’i, expecting the girl to still be terrified, but she was staring up at Marinette in awe.

“Wow, Miss Marinette, you’re like a superhero!” She said softly, and Marinette flushed, but gave the girl a small smile.

“You’re very brave Mar’i, but we’re not safe yet.” She could hear footsteps coming closer, light, matching the gait she’d heard from the Joker just moments earlier. With a small huff, she wrapped Mar’i around her again, and readied her yo-yo as she ran the opposite way. She stopped short for a moment as she came face to face with the other henchman, but thinking quickly, Marinette ducked his wide swing, and brought her head upwards into his chin, knocking him back and off balance; following up with a quick swipe at his legs, he hit the ground, and Marinette was running again.

‘Almost there, so close…’ “Merde.” She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but seeing Joker grinning at her from the entrance did not instill much hope in her. He tapped the barrel of his six shooter against the palm of his hand, watching her. Marinette sat Mar’i down, and pushed her behind her further, grip on her yo-yo tight.

“Now, now, little lady, we don’t have to fight. If you’d just hand that little girl there over, I’ll let you leave. With a smile even!” The grin on his face told her he was lying, even though his laughter was a clue in and of itself.

Marinette’s eyes narrowed, and she lowered her chin, “That’s not happening, clown. Step aside.” Joker’s eyebrows flew up, and he began laughing; Marinette hated that sound.

“She’s got some fight in her then! How interesting! And a foreigner too? So fearless!” Marinette let the yo-yo swing from her hand, swinging next to her leg, as he pointed the gun at her. She felt Mar’i grip her pants tighter with a small gasp. Joker’s grin grew, “But are you so willing to die for her?”

Marinette snarled, “Of course I am!”

The lack of hesitation made the Joker pause long enough for Marinette to make her move.

With a precision that startled even her, Marinette flung her yo-yo out again, managing to grab the Joker’s gun this time, and yanking it from him. It careened away into the brush, and Marinette snapped her yo-yo back with a trained hand; just in time to see a man dressed in black land on him from above.

Holy shit.

That’s Batman.

Shaking herself off, Marinette turned and picked Mar’i up, running the other direction; no child should see a fight like that. She had to get her to safety, to her parents, or the police, someone safe. The bathrooms? No, she’d left that goon over there, and she wasn’t sure if he was down and out or not.

“Think, Marinette, think, come on!” There had to be another exit in this park, away from the chaos of the main path; big parks always had multiple entrances and exits.

“Go that way Miss Marinette!” Marinette looked to where Mar’i pointed, and followed the girls directions. Flashing red and blue lights lit up the street, and Marinette could’ve cried with relief at the sight of the police officers.

An auburn haired woman was standing at the front of the police line, looking around in a panic, and the second her eyes landed on Marinette carrying Mar’i, she rushed forward.

“Mar’i, oh my god, baby girl, you’re ok!” The woman was crying, and Mar’i smiled, reaching for the woman.

“Auntie Barb!” Knowing Mar’i knew this woman, Marinette allowed the girl to be taken from her arms delicately, but she lingered by them. An older mustached man walked up, and held out his hand to Marinette, startling her.

“Thank you for getting her out of there. What’s your name?” Marinette flushed, reaching out and shaking his hand.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, sir. Please don’t thank me. I couldn’t have left her in there. Not with him.”

“I’m Commissioner Gordon. You don’t sound like you’re from around here, Miss Dupain-Cheng.” Marinette shook her head as she stepped back from him.

“No, sir; I’m from Paris. My school is here on a field trip.” The commissioner nodded.

“You’re the school Bruce Wayne sponsored.” Marinette offered him a tired smile.

“Yes, sir.”

“Miss Marinette!”

Marinette turned in time to feel tiny arms wrap around her legs, and she looked down to see Mar’i smiling at her, despite the tears on her face. Marinette crouched down to her level, and blinked when Mar’i wrapped her arms around her neck; she was quick to return the hug, even as she saw ‘Auntie Barb’ walk over.

“Thank you for saving me, Miss Marinette! You were really cool!” Marinette’s smile was small as she squeezed the little girl tight.

“Oh little one, you don’t have to thank me. I would do it again and again if need be.” She hummed contemplatively, “Though I think I’ll talk to your mama or papa about that babysitter; who leaves a little girl alone in this city?”

‘Auntie Barb’ scoffed, “When Dick hears about that, he’s gonna lose it.”

“Mar’i!”

Marinette looked over in time to see the police part like the red sea, and she was treated to seeing nearly the entire Bat pack escort a dishevelled looking dark haired man through the crowd. Mar’i broke away from her to run to the new arrival.

“Daddy!”

And Marinette smiled as she stood up, watching the two hug. Her father was patting her down, holding her close by the head, obvious relief in his eyes. It was a beautifully heart wrenching thing.

“Miss.”

Marinette jumped, looking to the side to see Batman staring down at her. She yelped, flushing.

“Y-yes, sir?”

My god, this man was intimidating! Was he going to lecture her? Bar her from the country??! Oh no, what if-?!

....Why was he holding his hand out?

Marinette blinked stupidly before she took his hand and shook it.

“What you did tonight was very admirable. You put yourself at great personal risk to protect the life of a child you’d never met, and managed to thwart a kidnapping by one of the most dangerous men in the city. You have my respect.”

Marinette’s cheeks grew more red, “Please, I-I’d do it all again, you don’t have to say any of that. It was the right thing to do; anyone would’ve done it.” Batman simply shook his head.

“No, Miss Dupain-Cheng, they wouldn’t. I’d like to get a statement from you, if you’d allow it.”

“Before that...”

Marinette and Batman both looked over, and she was surprised to see Mar’i’s father next to her. He gave her a smile.

“I would like to thank you for rescuing my darling, Miss… Marinette, was it?” Marinette nodded, fiddling with her hands; her anxiety was starting to peak with this many people. “If anything had happened to Mar’i, I… I don’t know what I would’ve done. Thank you. From the absolute depths of my heart, thank you for protecting my little girl.”

Marinette’s face grew impossibly redder, “Y-you’re welcome! It was no problem! She’s a wonderful girl.” She smiled at Mar’i as she sat in her dad’s arms. Shifting the girl to one arm, he held out his free hand.

“My name is Dick Grayson. I hope to see you again, but for now, I need to get Mar’i home before her mother gets any more anxious.” Marinette nodded as they shook hands.

“If I may, mister Grayson?” The man smiled, and despite the situation, it was shockingly cheery.

“Please, call me Dick.”

‘Auntie Barb’ snorted in amusement somewhere next to Marinette, but she tuned it out.

“Please speak to whoever was babysitting Mar’i today; they left her behind.”

Dick stared at her for a moment, maybe processing, before he nodded, a steely look in his eyes.

“Thank you for telling me, Marinette. We’ll take care of it.” Marinette smiled, before she dug around in her purse, and pulled out one of the many cookies she had for Tikki; she handed it over to Mar’i who took it with a smile of her own.

“You be safe, ok?” Mar’i nodded, giving her a bigger smile.

“I will! You’re the best, Miss ‘Nette!” Smiling at the nickname, Marinette waved to the little girl as the police escorted the family away; she realized Batman was still next to her, and snapped her attention back to him.

“S-sorry, sir. I’ll give you that statement now.”

The man seemed less intimidating for some reason, like he was quietly amused.

“You’re surprisingly humble in the face of all this, Marinette.”

‘Calm down, calm down, you’re fine.’ She thought, gripping her bag.

“I didn’t do this for attention, sir. I’m… not exactly comfortable being in the spotlight like this.”

The masked man nodded in understanding, and once he was ready, Marinette began her retelling of what had happened.

Distinctly unaware of the several pairs of ears listening in.

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

“Holy shit, you’re telling me pixie stick here threw a metal trash can at Joker?! Like a full on throw?!” Red Hood wasn’t buying it. The girl was so tiny, despite the toned muscles of her legs; she looked like she weighed ninety pounds soaking wet!

“That’s what the cameras in the park are showing, Hood.” He heard Red Robin typing away at something, before- “Holy shit.” Hood stood back by the police, flanked by Robin, and he turned his attention back to his comm line.

“What is it, Red?”

“That girl took them down with a fucking yo-yo, Hood. What the hell?”

The comm fell silent again before Jason heard all the air whoosh out of Tim over the line.

“Red? What now?”

“The… The audio. Hood, she was fully prepared to lay down her life for Mar’i. You can hear it in her voice; it’s like she’s a completely different person to who Bats is talking to.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed behind his mask as he frowned; he didn’t like the sound of that. Red Hood noticed the change in his brother’s demeanor, frowning to himself.

“What do you mean, Red?” He asked, and he heard Tim sigh.

“Look, just… wait till you get back, and I’ll show you. That girl’s good though; she’s got guts.”

A shrill call of the girls name had Jason turning, just in time to see a blonde girl tackle Marinette. She was speaking rapidly in French, checking her friend over thoroughly before she turned sharp eyes on Batman. Jason couldn’t help but grin as he watched Bruce’s eyes widen behind the mask, his eyebrows raising a little as the blonde started on a tirade.

Red Hood snickered, “Now this is funny.” He watched his father get berated by the blonde before she started guiding Marinette away; the poor dark haired girl was red all the way to her ears in embarrassment.

“Find something funny, Hood?” Jason looked at Batman as he walked over, and wished his old man could see the shit eating grin on his face.

“Course I did. It’s not everyday I get to watch a teenager yell at you.”  Next to him, Robin snorted. Hood and Robin waited until Bats had given Gordon the girl’s statement before the three of them left as one.

They met on a nearby rooftop, far enough away from the scene to be able to talk freely. Batman turned his comm back on, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Red, what do you have on her?” There was a sigh over the line.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, 17, nearly 18; she’s in her last year of lycée at Francoise Dupont in Paris. She’s the one who put together the essay that won her school the trip to Gotham. Her parents own a bakery, but her mother has a vast history in martial arts it looks like. Her grades are excellent, and I’ve found records of literally so many charities I’m not gonna bother listing them.” Bruce could almost hear Tim shrug, “She’s clean, Bats.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “You said she took them down with a yo-yo, Red. That’s not a standard weapon.”

“There’s records of her enrolling in gymnastics several years back; it’s probably a skill she picked up back then; maybe from the ribbon dancing? I’ll see if I can find anything else.”

“Red, just remember,” Everyone paused at the tone of Bruce’s voice, “This is not a malicious search; she saved Mar’i’s life; I don’t want to make problems for the girl.”

“Got it, Bats.”

Batman turned to Robin, and Damian sighed.

“Let me guess, stake out her hotel, make sure she stays safe?”

Batman nodded, “She managed to stall Joker and his goons long enough for us to get there, and she put her life on the line for Mar’i. The story’s already broke the news, along with her face and name. Harley and Ivy won’t give us any problems with this, but Joker has been working on something with Scarecrow for the last couple of months, and I don’t think he’s going to appreciate the hiccup in their plan.” Damian sighed, while Jason cackled, elbowing him in the ribs.

“Oh wah, Demon spawn, you get to go protect a cute girl for awhile; who knows, maybe you’ll get a date.”

Tim snorted over the comm line before he started laughing, and Damian flushed, his cheeks pinkening a bit.

“Go die, Hood.”

“Already did that, thanks, but no.”

With one last glare sent Jason’s way, Robin walked over to the edge of the building, preparing to make his way back to the hotel they’d seen the girl enter; then Jason just had to speak again.

“Oh yeah, did you see she was wearing your merch?”

Father probably wouldn’t let him kill Jason, right?

….

It didn’t stop him from trying.

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

“Oh my god, Mari, you made it onto the news!” Chloe laughed as she lowered the volume on the broadcast. The cameraman had gotten a good shot of when Marinette had sprinted out of the park, and as she was speaking to the various people who had come up to her; though they mostly replayed her shaking Batman’s hand as he spoke to her.

“Tonight, the attempted kidnapping of Bruce Wayne’s granddaughter was thwarted by a passing teenager from Paris by the name of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, who managed to stall the Joker until Batman could arrive, while protecting miss Mar’i Grayson. This is not the first time the Joker has gone after a member of the Wayne family…”

Marinette groaned and flopped on the couch, covering her eyes with her hands.

“God, turn it off please, Chlo. It was mortifying explaining this to Mme. Bustier without having to hear more of it.” Chloe rolled her eyes, but turned it off anyway. They were lounging in the shared space of their suite, curtains thrown wide to provide a good view of the skyline as the sun set. Tikki, Pollen, and Kaalki were all sitting on the coffee table munching on their respective treats. Tikki flew up, hovering over Marinette where she lay on the couch.

“You were amazing Marinette! I was blown away!” Kaalki nodded as she swallowed a sugar cube, and then her face widened into a grin.

“That’s right, Mari! Your civilian side is super strong just like Ladybug is!” Marinette moved her hands, offering both kwami a smile.

“Thanks you two.” Chloe rolled her eyes, and plopped harshly on the couch next to Marinette.

“I’m glad you’re ok, Mari-bear. I wish I could’ve seen you in action.”

Marinette thought back to how she felt when she heard the Joker laugh, when he was pointing that gun at her. Knowing that without her, Mar’i could be killed, or worse yet.

“Chloe, I’m sorry, but I’m… I’m so glad you weren’t there.” She wasn’t going to cry again, damnit, she was nearly eighteen, but she still felt her throat close up at the force of her emotions, “The Joker is nothing like Hawkmoth, Chlo; he’s not even like the akuma we deal with. He’s in a category far removed from us. I got in a lucky shot because he hesitated.”

Chloe raised an eyebrow, and turned herself on the couch so she was facing Marinette, “What do you mean, Mari?”

Mari swallowed as she sat up, turning herself to the side so she was mostly facing Chloe as well.

“He… He asked me if I was so willing to die for her. And I didn’t even hesitate. I think it threw him off, because he just stared at me; it gave me the opening I needed to use my yo-yo.” She was starting to tremble, Chloe noticed, “I… I was so scared, Chloe. He was after that little girl. I couldn’t let him get his hands on her, I’ve heard about the things he’s done, and I couldn’t let that happen to a child.”

Chloe reached over, and gripped Marinette’s hand in hers, a look of concern on her face.

“That’s not all of it though... is it?”

Marinette shook her head, “I… I was so ready, Chloe; to accept that I was going to die. I forgot that I wanted to live until I saw that opening.” Marinette soon found herself buried in the cloth of Chloe’s sleep top, and she felt the hugs of the three kwamis too.

“Take a deep breath, Mari. You’re here. You lived, and so did the little girl. You did amazing, but not even you can be strong all the time. You can be upset while you’re here, Hawkmoth can’t get us.” Chloe tightened her hold on the girl as she finally cried her heart out; she’d been fighting it so much, for so many years. There was just... so much she’d repressed.

And Chloe held her through all of it.

~~~~~~~~~

Robin was many things. To his brothers, a nuisance, demon spawn Jason called him; to Gotham, he was the stoic boy wonder, both in costume and out. Damian Wayne was generally a cold young man, uncaring for most of the people outside of his own family for a long time. Yes, he cared about the innocents of Gotham as Robin, but as Damian? That was more difficult.

Yet as he sat concealed on the roof across from this girl’s - Marinette’s - hotel room, he felt an odd kind of weight settle in his gut. He couldn’t really read lips or hear anything from this distance, but he could tell she was crying. For some reason, it discomfited him. It was like a longing he'd never felt before, and it was very unusual for him.

And that wasn’t even mentioning the three strange creatures that were flying about the room.

This girl was… odd. Tim had said she was nearly eighteen, so she wasn’t much younger than him, but she was so… expressive. When she’d been talking to Batman, she’d clearly been anxious, but Damian had noticed her constantly sneaking glances towards Mar’i; like she was taking precautions. The girl obviously knew how to fight, as she’d been able to take down Joker’s thugs without taking a single hit.

That was honestly the weirdest part, he thought.

She’d come out without a scratch on her or Mar’i, both of them completely unscathed.

And then Tim had sent him the video he’d grabbed from the cameras, and Damian still couldn’t get it out of his head.

“She’s got some fight in her then! How interesting! And a foreigner too? So fearless!” Marinette let the yo-yo swing from her hand, swinging next to her leg, as he pointed the gun at her. She felt Mar’i grip her pants tighter with a small gasp. Joker’s grin grew, “But are you so willing to die for her?”

Marinette snarled, “Of course I am!”

When Tim had said it was like she was two different people, he hadn’t been kidding; and though at first, Damian had felt suspicious, now that he was observing her more naturally, it was rather obvious that the young woman had some self esteem issues. He’d seen the confidence in her during the video, but around so many people, it had gone out as easily as a candle. Which honestly, was a true shame.

Damian watched as another girl was let into the room by the blonde; this one had short, cropped pink hair. She looked like she’d get along with Beast Boy pretty well, a thought that made him grimace. The pink one crouched in front of Marinette, and even as far away as he was, he could see the concern on her face as her friends talked her through what he guessed may be a panic attack; but he had noticed that once the new girl had come, the three floating… things had scampered away, and out of sight. So she was keeping secrets then.

He sat there for a couple hours, watching the three girls as they spoke, and finally Marinette calmed down. He was just about to settle in for more observations when he noticed a shadow drop onto Marinette’s side of the balcony; before he could move though, he heard another body land behind him, and Damian came up swinging.

“Whoa there, demon spawn, it’s just us.” Jason dodged his hit gracefully, and Damian snarled.

“Damnit, Hood, don’t sneak up on me. And who’s on her balcony?” Jason sat on the edge of the building Damian had once occupied, and nodded towards the hotel.

“Don’t worry, it’s just Red. He’s setting up a listening device since we knew you wouldn’t be able to hear anything; Grayson is wanting us to take no chances with her safety.” Damian couldn’t fault his older brother’s logic; the girl had saved his daughter. Soon, Red Robin landed beside them, and took up a seat, pulling a speaker from his belt. Damian raised an eyebrow.

“Why the listening device now?” Tim shrugged, accepting the bag of chips Jason handed him.

“Bruce wanted to know if she’d tell anyone how she took the Joker down. We found a couple leads, but we don’t wanna push her too far.” Damian thought back to the three creatures he’d witnessed, but decided that was not his business to share. Besides, if his brothers lingered long enough, they’d see them themselves. So with a sigh, Damian sat back down next to Red Robin, and grabbed a handful of chips.

And they listened.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I CANNOT BELIEVE that asshole!” Alix shouted as she paced the floor. She whirled back to face Chloe, who had one of her arms around Marinette as the girl leaned into her, “You’re telling me Agreste and you dated for two FUCKING YEARS and he wouldn’t even let anyone know!!? What the FUCK!” Marinette nodded, while Chloe frowned.

“Keep your voice down, Alix, we’re not telling you so you can tell the whole hotel.” Chloe said while she rubbed Mari’s arm in comfort. Marinette sighed, looking up at Alix.

“He… He didn’t want anyone to know because his father had told him to make sure he kept Lila happy in class. Chloe knew, she was the only one I told. He-It-I mean, it was fine for awhile-.” Alix crouched in front of Marinette’s knees, and took hold of her hands, giving her a compassionate, but serious look.

“Marinette, no,” She said, “It’s not fine. For two years, he let Lila hang off of him, kiss him, and generally torture you during school, only to, what? Come and comfort you afterwards?” Hesitantly, Marinette nodded, and Alix swore steam was going to come out of her ears. “Marinette, when someone loves you, they love you all the time, not just when it’s convenient for them.” Alix managed a rueful smile, “It’s too bad you’re straight, or I’d totally take you out and show you how you deserve to be treated.” It worked, and Alix smiled as Marinette laughed, rubbing at her eyes. Chloe scoffed.

“Get in line, Alix; if any woman is taking my Mari-bear out, it’ll be me, thank you.” Alix gave her a grin, winking at the blonde and Chloe laughed.

“You can come too, Chlo. We’ll take our girl out and treat her special.” Alix looked back at Mari who was still laughing, and Alix softened a bit, “I know there are things you still can’t tell me, DC, and that’s ok. I’ve nearly got Kim and Max seeing reason finally. It’s gotten easier now that I just google whatever Lila says, and show it to them.” Her grin was bitter as she shook her smartphone for emphasis, “I’m sorry for how everyone’s been treating you these last few years. It’s like they’re just letting themselves be blinded by that little skank.” Alix wouldn’t lie, she was furious with the rest of their class for just letting these things happen; it was a testament to how exhausted Mari was that she didn’t even reprimand Alix on her words.

Marinette squeezed Alix’s hands, and she looked up at her. Marinette gave her a smile.

“Thank you Alix, but you don’t have to, you know. We’re almost done with school, and then we’ll be off to university. It doesn’t matter that much anymore.” Alix frowned.

“Marinette, you deserve to have the truth known. I don’t really care if they wanted to go their whole lives believing that witch, but it’s hurting you. You were always there for us, hell, you still keep spare clothes for all of them in case they need them! You deserve to have your good name cleared.”

Marinette smiled, but it was sad, and Alix wanted to rage against the world at the sight of it; her friend deserved nothing but the best, and she had been treated so poorly for so long. Alix had learned it didn’t matter if you spoke out, told Lila and Alya what they were doing was wrong; telling Madame Bustier didn’t do anything. Everyone just ignored it, unless they were actively participating.

“Alix, I have you and Chloe, and yeah, it would be nice to be friends with Kim and Max again; but I’m used to this by now. It’s… It’s been 4 years, and while the first one was… rocky, to say the least…” Marinette shared a grimace with Chloe, whose frown deepened at the memory, before she looked back at Alix, “I’ve gotten stronger for it. And if it hadn’t been for Lila, Chloe and I may never have become such good friends, and for that alone, I’m grateful to her.”

Alix grit her teeth as tears welled in her eyes, “But Mari! Alya has hit you! Adrien did nothing! They’ve ruined your sketchbooks, trashed your site, and tried to sabotage your university applications! How could you possibly be ok with any of that?!” Alix was surprised when Marinette’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m not, Alix. It hurt every single time. But what’s done is done, there’s no changing that, and there’s no going back. I can only keep moving forward.” Marinette sighed, giving her a pleased smile, “And I’m not alone, I never am. I have two of the most amazing, trustworthy friends I could ever have at my side, and an invitation to see one of Gotham’s most outstanding universities. Things haven’t been good, or fun, but they won’t stay that way.”

Alix stared at her in shock, and the tears rolled down her face while she hung her head, “We don’t deserve you, Marinette… I’m sorry.” Marinette pulled her up to the couch, and pulled her closer to herself and Chloe.

“Don’t be sorry, Alix. You and Chloe have stuck with me through it all; you’ve spoken out against Lila to defend me countless times. You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

Next to her, Chloe snorted, “Except for that t shirt, oh my god, where did you even find that horrendous thing?” Alix laughed, and gave Chloe the finger, which caused the blonde to huff.

“Rude.” But Chloe was smiling, and Marinette finally felt peace settle in her heart. Soon, she’d be gone from Lila for good, and everything would be nothing more than just a distant memory. She was fine; she was in a much better place than she used to be, even with her small slip up tonight in the park.

They were going to be ok.

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

“I don’t know french, what are they saying?”

Damian had a scowl on his face as they listened, but Jason had noticed how Tim had frozen; his two brothers were the ones who spoke french, damnit, why weren’t they translating? Finally Tim moved, and he buried his face in his hands.

“We shouldn’t have heard this…” Tim said softly, and now Hood was looking between the hotel, and Red Robin in concern. With a sigh, Tim raised his head, staring at the girls in the hotel room who were laughing now. “From what I can infer based on their conversation, Marinette is being bullied, and ignored by most of her class. Based on what these girls are saying, two girls, Lila and Alya, have been terrorizing her in class for - four years, I think they said? Not even her boyfriend would let anyone know they were dating, and he just stood by when this Alya girl hit her.”

Damian’s scowl deepened, and his hands clenched at his side, but Tim wasn’t done.

“And he’d go and comfort her after school, but the only one who knew is the blonde one there, Chloe. Apparently he’d let this Lila girl hang on him during school, and kiss him and junk. These girls have shredded her sketchbooks, trashed her site - whatever that means-, and tried to sabotage her university applications.”

Jason whistled low, “Damn, that’s harsh.” Hood frowned as he looked at the girls having a good time despite the heavy conversation they’d just had. She didn’t seem like the type of girl who deserved all that animosity. “How are we gonna help then, Red?”

The three of them paused as their comms crackled to life, and Bruce’s voice came over the line.

“I’ll take care of it. Come on home; Nightwing will take watch the rest of the night.” Damian watched as Chloe whacked Alix with one of the couch cushions, and an all out war broke out between the girls.

Next to him, Tim sighed, “Got it, Bats. Coming home.”

Jason turned first, and Tim lingered for a moment longer, but Damian was still staring at the girl. She was laughing as she beat her friend over the head with a pillow, the pink one - Alix - retaliating instantly. She looked… happy.

“Robin? You coming?” Damian nodded, and finally he turned away.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

@uGH_WHYME

OH MY GOD GUYS did you see the girl on the news???                                Looks like there could be a new Wayne! #onlyinGotham

#darkhair #blueeyes #mustbeaWayne #gothamites

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

Holy shit, and that is chapter one y’all! Just a quick rundown on a couple things. Chloe and Alix are gonna be hella gay, and I can’t wait for you guys to find out who their GFs are gonna be >:3 It’s gonna be GREAT. There will be some minor Adrien bashing, but he will ultimately learn from his fuck ups; mostly cause I love my dumb ass boy, but BOI is he dumb sometimes. Alya bashing will hopefully be minimal cause I DO love her to death.

Also, Chloe is totally getting/got the redemption she deserved GDI. Zagg can shove that S3 finale right where the sun don’t shine. Oh, did I mention there will be salt??? Like TONS OF SALT probably. Also, I probably won’t post super often on tumblr; I’m primarily use Ao3, so things may end up going up faster over there. 

Hope you guys liked it! <3

Part 1 :HERE: Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5