#i guess no one accused me of anything either but it sure feels like it

[nexttothelamp]

god damnit none of them are strong enough to stand up for themselves, so im just gonna have to do it for them

[alchemistc]

Part One

The loft is sadly undecorated. He'd tried, is the thing. Gone to the same novelty store they'd found on a random walk after a date, in late September, where Tommy had spent twenty minutes worrying a foam pumpkin in his hands while Buck tried to decide what sort of decor would fit his utilitarian loft.

They'd spent so long lingering over the sculpted white candles, Buck thrilled because Tommy's straight face broke every time Buck pointed out which ones looked like incredibly expensive dildos, that he'd felt bad enough to buy a whole set of them just to appease the girl at the counter who'd been watching them with a half annoyed, half wistful expression while Buck made a comment about dragons that had had Tommy biting his lip so hard he'd actually gone red in the face trying to hold the laughter in.

But every time he'd picked up a glass tree and thought how much fun it'd be to try to make Tommy go full Tik Tok Paramedic on him, every time he'd found something soft or plush enough that Tommy wouldn't have been able to resist running his fingers over it, plucking it up to toss it between his palms - well.

It wasn't like there'd be anyone in his loft long enough to really appreciate his decorations.

"Why'd you kiss me?" he asks, rounding on Tommy as Tommy takes a tentative step towards the kitchen.

"You were being annoying." At Buck's look, he elaborates. "Force of habit."

The finger comes up without any input from Buck, his voice tipping into that same flirty, bickering rapport he'd always pushed as far as he could. "I knew you did it to shut me up."

Tommy expression shutters. He recognizes Buck's tone. A few months ago that tone would start with a round of banter that usually ended with at least one of them with their pants around their ankles.

He looks spooked. He's staring at the island stool closest to the door like he's replaying the last conversation they had here, and Buck feels all his ire rear back up.

"You promised me clarity, Tommy." It's an accusation, and they both know it, because he looks ready to fucking bolt.

Slowly, he steps in. Half a yard closer to Buck, close enough to curl his hand over the island, and Buck is struck again by how goddamn unfair it is that Tommy looks this goddamn good in a suit.

"I did."

Buck's pretty sure he has some muffins he hasn't frozen yet that wouldn't actually damage Tommy, if he threw them at him.

"Can we...?" He gestures, vague as his half a question, and Buck wants to throttle him. Or kiss him again, which is -

"I need a beer. You?"

Tommy sighs. His grip on the corner of the island makes his knuckles go white. "Evan."

"No beer, got it." He swings the door open and doesn't wait for the reaction to either his snippy little rejoinder or the stacks and stacks of baked goods filling up the shelves of his fridge. He pops the cap with his back still turned, let's the fridge door fall closed. "Not like you drove here, but sure. One of us should be sober, I guess."

The switch back to Evan doesn't do anything for him at all.

Buck leans back against the counter and tries not to think about how he'd had this half formed idea of getting a real tree this year, finding some novelty kiosk that made those hokey ornaments for people to mark the years they'd been a family. He'd thought -

Tommy blinks guiltily when Buck catches him eyeing the way he fills out his slacks, a toe to groin drift of his gaze that makes Buck ache for when he could respond to that by dropping to his knees.

"That's a lot of bread," Tommy notes, eyes focused somewhere over Buck's shoulder.

"Why'd you break up with me, Tommy?"

Tommy freezes. Shifts from foot to foot. Sighs, and takes a few steps to the fridge, swings it open to grab a beer of his own. It's still the stuff Tommy likes. Buck's not picky, really, and it'd been habit to grab the six pack he always kept for Tommy.

The last five times he'd restocked.

Tommy takes half a step back to lean against the island, just off center from Buck, so they both have to twist their necks just a little to actually look at each other.

"You terrify me," Tommy murmurs, a few swigs in, when the silence is just starting to make Buck's skin itch. "Evan, I'm not -." He grimaces, frustrated. "I'm not some Super Gay who fights for justice and equality and the ability to make horrible television with Hummel doll sopranists."

"I don't know what that means."

Tommy's smile is wry. He'd had a running list of movies Buck's never seen on a note on his phone - every time Buck missed a reference, he'd added it to the list. They'd gotten through maybe twenty before -

"I led on a good woman for years because I convinced myself I could live my life ignoring a huge piece of myself. I hurled slurs with my buddies just to make sure no one noticed me. I fed into every toxic stereotype I could just to avoid anyone realizing I wasn't one of them. I'm not - I'm not some Gold Star Gay, paragon of the community. I didn't do shit. And even when I made the decision to let myself just be who I always was, I waited until no one in my life was close enough to me to question that I hadn't always been this way. I -." He winces. Shakes his head. "I run instead of fighting. I hide every time someone tries to see me. I'm not - this comfort you're so convinced I have I took at the cost of other people who were braver and stronger than I could ever be. Do you - is that an admirable quality, to you?"

Buck wishes they'd sat, like Tommy seemed to have been hinting at. He wishes he'd spent the ride over preparing himself for this, instead of stopping himself from crawling into Tommy's lap and getting a horrible rider rating for his trouble. He wishes -

"Do you think I don't already know all those things about you?"

It's - actually, it makes him a little furious, to think that Tommy spent six months thinking he'd successfully hid all those things from Buck. And - sure, he hadn't exactly been forthcoming about more than a few of those things, but like -

It wasn't like Buck didn't actively find ways to pry stories from Howie and Hen, even Bobby on occasion. It wasn't like Buck hadn't noticed the clipped way Tommy spoke of his past, his family, always tucking away more than he revealed. It wasn't like Buck wasn't well aware that Tommy Kinard had the capacity to be a total fucking asshole, if he wanted. Just because he'd kept it cool around Buck, made it just flirty enough for plausible deniability -

"You deserve better than that. Than me."

"Then be better than that, Tommy." It's not the best way to get his point across, but... "I've had multiple serious relationships, Tommy. I'm - I've been in love, before, and I've had my heart broken before, and I've had my trust broken before, and I've made people I love feel like shit. You weren't new and exciting, Tommy, we were - we were boring and domestic and it was the best six months of my life. It was what I -."

And this, of course, is where the words start to crest over, too many at once while his mouth tries to keep up and his throat is too tight to -

He swallows. Stares at his toes until his vision swims. Maybe those are tears, or maybe he's just stared long enough to go cross-eyed. His throat feels like he might be able to scrape a few words out

"I go too fast sometimes. I - I get scared I'm falling behind and so I clear a few hurdles too fast to catch back up and it -." Frustration rises through him as he remembers the way Tommy had levered himself up, spun away, broken things off without even a hint of the careful consideration Buck had grown so used to. "And you just - you tell me you want more than anything to be my last but you can't even give me the closure of a clean break! What the hell was that about?"

"Evan, I -."

"No! Okay, no. It's my turn to - it's my turn to be mad. It's my turn to - do you know how lonely I've been? How - how much I'm in my own head about where I went wrong, and what I could have done differently, and why you won't just fucking text me when you clearly want to? Do you know - do you know what it's like to think you've finally found something worth the humiliation of being known and then have it vanish in a single night? Over - you never talked to me about any of the shit you brought up that night, Tommy! You never - if you were so scared of not being enough to keep me interested, or so sure you weren't a good enough man, or so sure I couldn't possibly know what I wanted out of this, you could have saved us a hell of a lot of time and - and hurt by not being exactly the person I thought I could spend the rest of my life with! If that was all a - a smokescreen, some act, then why did you - are you actually so cruel that you convinced me we were falling in love while you had one foot out the door the whole time?"

Tommy's grip on the bottle looks painful.

"It's your turn to talk," Buck snipes, and he takes a little satisfaction in the way Tommy blanches. Just a little. Just enough to ignore how much he wants to rip Tommy's suit jacket at the straining shoulder seams and bite a bruise into that spot below his collarbone that even Tommy's undershirts hid well enough to keep the team at Harbor from putting him on blast for coming to work covered in hickeys.

"Six months with you was more devastating than two decades of hiding who I was, Evan," Tommy says, and it's a horrible opening that makes Buck feel like he's being drawn and quartered but he'd given Tommy the floor, so -

Tommy's eyes are a little too misty to call them anything but welling, and Buck hates it as much as it satisfies the pieces of himself he's spent weeks trying to pick up and glue back together.

"Evan, I lived with Abby for years and I don't think I saw her as much as I saw you. You -." He swipes a hand through his hair, and rustles one of his Superman curls loose to drape tauntingly over his forehead. Buck wants to bite him. He wants it to hurt. "You burrowed in and you just kept digging and I didn't take a second to question it until it was too late."

"Too late for what?"

"For me to take the cowards way out and leave before it hurt."

"Maybe I should have dug further," Buck snaps, and Tommy's gaze flits to his. Holds, for the first time all night. He's breathtaking in the best and worst way possible. He's spent weeks now trying to imagine anyone else ever making him feel the way prolonged eye contact with this man makes him feel.

"You did," Tommy admits, a confession that sounds like it's been gut punched right out of him. "You still -." Another grimace, Tommy pulling back, pulling away, hiding, running, and Buck can't -

"So what is this, Tommy? Is this - are you -?" He shakes his head to clear the cobwebs. Rears up, pushes off the counter, and Tommy's eyes widen like he's just now realized he doesn't have an easy exit. Buck just stands there, though. "If this is it, let this be it. If you don't want - if you're not willing to fight for this with me, tell me now. I know I'm - I know I'm a lot. I know I push for more when I'm scared. I know I'm overwhelming, and I sometimes can't stop talking to save my life, and I know I'm jealous and petty and - I know I'm not perfect."

Tommy sets his bottle on the counter beside him. Worries his lip between his teeth and rolls his jaw.

"You snore. You're a bitch sometimes and every once in a while it's not even charming. You hog all the covers and then you complain that it's too hot. You're vague about every single thing in your past that you think makes you seem like a bad person. You always think food needs more garlic and sometimes you're wrong. Sometimes when I spiral you just give me that stupid indulgent smile of yours and I know you stopped listening two reddit threads ago. When you're grumpy sometimes it takes everything in me not to pick a fight because you're such an asshole. You get cagey every time I pick at a thread you don't want to unravel and I - I hate it. I wanted a life with you and you couldn't stick around long enough to tell me why you were too afraid to go for it. So if - if you think I'm seeing you with rose colored glasses, or whatever. If you think I'm not - if you think being the first guy makes you too special for this to be real then just..." He sucks in a breath. Blows it out through his nose and feels the ache in his chest that's half remnants of his earlier panic attack and half fear that Tommy will actually turn and walk out at the end of this. "If you don't wanna fight for this I'll fill in the hole I dug as best I can and I'll leave you alone, okay?"

The look on Tommy's face is one he's never seen before. They've done this dance, or parts of it, at least. Tommy'd left him outside Micelli's, breathless and confused and aching, before he ever knew what it was like to hold his hand, to press his nose into the join of his neck and shoulder, to curl a hand in his hair or be filled by him - with attention, with affection, with the weight of his body and the stretch of his cock. Even then, this had felt different. Real, in a way the misty edges of his time with Abby, or the way Buck's puzzle pieces had never quite fit with Taylor's had never been. Even then, he'd just wanted so desperately to know and be known by Tommy that he'd taken his second chance and run with it.

"I don't snore," Tommy says, when the silence gets too heavy, and Buck - god, Buck has missed that tone, the snappy little tilt of his head, the blatant lie that passes over Tommy's lips so smoothly it's hard to tell sometimes that he's not being serious.

"I have audio proof," Buck says, and then doesn't immediately admit that he'd played it on a loop two nights into the breakup when he'd wrapped his entire body around the spare pillows on his bed and still hadn't been able to sleep alone in his bed.

"It bugs me that you spent days following scraps of information about a dead outlaw you convinced yourself cursed you, but you didn't even know what a Kinsey scale was."

This is - progress. This is... not Tommy bolting.

"I'm a two. If that's - is that, like, gay enough for you, or...?"

"You go too fast for me, Buckley," he says, and Buck knows that's a fucking reference to something he doesn't have context for just as well as he knows he's willing to spend the next decade waiting for the reference to pop up on Tommy's list. It's a terrifying, exhilarating thought and it's probably exactly what Tommy means.

"I can slow down," Buck says, and he tries to mean it. Nothing about how he feels about Tommy is slow.

"I don't want you to," Tommy admits, and then lets the silence stretch. They're two and a half feet away from each other and the distance feels like the farthest he's ever been from Tommy and the closest he may ever be again. "Living together, making a life together..." He swallows. "Marriage." That stops him short just long enough to recall how he'd blazed right past the I love you and straight into how he could keep Tommy. "You scare the shit out of me every goddamn minute of every goddamn day and I've never missed being terrified as much as I have since I walked out that door."

"I'm in love with you," Buck tells him, and Tommy blinks back tears. Takes a shaky breath and nods.

"That's what scares me. It's never - it's never been enough, before."

He'd sort of expected this to end with either the echo of his KitchenAid or a frantic rush up the stairs, but when Tommy meets him halfway all he does is sink his nose into the curls behind Buck's ear and breathe.

His arms drag Buck closer, his feet shuffle beneath them, his chin hooks over Buck's shoulder and he breathes, and breathes, and breathes.

---

"Your morning breath is rancid," Tommy tells him, palm centered on Buck's nose when he leans in for a kiss, pads of his fingers curled just slightly so that his hand is nearly encasing Buck's entire face. He wants to be annoyed but it's mind numbingly hot and Buck has missed it. Missed the snark, and the comfortable way Tommy will shoot him down when his head is in the clouds, and exactly how fucking large Tommy is.

"I'm so tired of avocado toast," Buck bats back, and Tommy is distracted enough by his need to make a face at that for Buck to swoop in and press a kiss to his cheek. He makes sure to make it a little wet just to watch Tommy's face crinkle in mock disgust.

He's in one of Buck's hoodies, is wearing the pair of his own sweats Buck had buried in the back of his closet in a fit of pique three days post breakup. He still looks properly debauched and Buck wants to drag him right back to bed.

Except -

"You don't have to go," Buck repeats, for the fifth time since he brought it up somewhere between peeling Tommy out of his suit pants and rolling out of bed to warm a hand towel under the sink so that Tommy could clean the cum off his abs. "But I need to shower and leave in like - twenty-seven minutes."

Tommy catches him by the waist and drags him in. "I won't be able to stay. You baked and I took as much holiday overtime as I could, but if you seriously want me there -."

"I seriously want you everywhere."

Tommy raises a brow.

"I mean that in a horny way and a codependent way."

Tommy snorts. "Good to know we're approaching this in a healthy manner."

"You told me not to slow down," Buck reminds him, and he gets a smack to his ass for his trouble.

"When Maddie pulls me aside, do you think she'll just slip me a poisoned glass of wine, or is she gonna get up on a step stool and make me stand there while she strangles me to death?"

"She won't do that." Buck leans in again, rolls a loose curl between two fingers. "She'll just stab you in the middle of the kitchen and warn my parents not to step in the blood."

"That's comforting."

Tommy takes a utilitarian shower in the downstairs bathroom and doesn't let Buck join him, and then rifles through Buck's closet until he finds all three of his button downs Buck had tucked away.

He has to borrow a pair of Buck's slacks and Buck absolutely does not mind that his ass is definitely gonna stretch them out.

With about seventy seconds to spare, Tommy presses Buck to his front door and kisses him just long enough to screw up Buck's meticulous timing - by the time he pulls back and gives Buck enough room to glance at the time on his stove, Buck knows they're gonna hit just enough red lights to make them late.

"I love you too, by the way," Tommy murmurs, and just this once, Buck decides not to be a brat about being five minutes late.

[mrs-kodzuken]

empty promise ⟢ kenma k.

synopsis: you notice that your boyfriend, kuroo, of almost three years has been acting strange lately. you confront him on it and then suddenly you’ve made the decision to leave him. luckily, your best friend is always there for you.

other: cheater!kuroo x fem!reader, best friend!kenma x fem!reader, angst, break up, little mention of ED, comfort, manipulation, gas-lighting, asshole!kuroo, best friend!kenma helping rebuild reader, therapy, best friend!kenma has loved reader since 4eva eventual fluff

"Kuroo, I know it’s happening again.” You sighed, knowing this wouldn't end well, just like last time didn't end well per say either. You stared at the man across from you in the kitchen decorated with picture frames of the both of you as he hovered in front of the fridge, probably wondering why you didn't cook tonight.

“What are you talking about?” He sounded snippy; his demeanor changed as he peered his sharp gaze back at you, immediately becoming defensive. His slick, black suit that he wore leaving for work this morning was hardly as neat as it was, adding on to your suspicion. 

“You’re hiding something from me, I know it.” You finally got out, your heartbeat quickening as it usually did when you would have to confront your boyfriend of three years. It was upsetting that you would have this anxious-riddening feeling that made you sick everytime you defied him. 

“Seriously? This again? You’re fucking kidding me,” He snapped, slamming the refrigerator door shut, into which you jumped at the loud, sudden noise—eyes widening. 

“Yes, Kuroo, this again. I can't set it aside any longer; the feelings are tearing me apart.” You attempted to say, “I just want trust, and—and I feel like I’m not getting it from you,” You stammered, trying to reason with the man; his expression held anger as if he couldn't believe you felt this way, especially about him.

“There you go with your crazy talk; are you sure you’ve been talking with the therapist Y/n?” He accused you, the scoff apparent in his voice as he rolled his eyes. 

Furrowing your brows, you couldn’t believe that he would ask something like that. “Yes, at every appointment, and sometimes I text—“ You were abruptly cut off, the anxiety ate away at you, making you chip your nail polish. 

"I just think you’re being dramatic. Honestly, I think you’re the one who's making this relationship go without trust,” He hammered in on his accusations. The kitchen light flickered as a few beats of silence passed between you two. 

The absolute quietude in the house was almost deafening. The living room TV wasn't on; no soft music, nothing. No noise except the small buzzing from the refrigerator that you have always, always hated.

You took a deep breath and tried to collect your thoughts, you followed the steps your therapist gave you for moments like this. 

“Kuroo, where were you tonight? You’re home extremely later than you said.” You purse your lips, wanting to know, but the ache in your stomach was becoming too much. At this point, it hurt to love him, to question him. You knew what he would say, you could probably even guess the exact words that would come out of his mouth.

His taller frame stood across the kitchen; the usual loving eyes now turned cold and hard and it was all directed at you.

“At the office, I was working.” He snarled, “Oh, you think I’m fucking someone at my job now, huh?” He raised his voice, your eyes widening at the thoughts your mind crept to, but you wanted to discuss it first. Wanted to calmly talk about it, this is what your therapist told you to do. 

“No, Kuroo, I don’t think anything; I didn’t say anything like that. "All I said was that I had a feeling and I wanted to talk with you about it.” This is what your therapist had specifically told you to do; you could feel the crease between your eyebrows becoming more apparent with every sharp word Kuroo said. 

“Oh yeah, because I’m totally cheating on you. I told you that last time would never happen again; why are you having these ‘feelings’?” He rudely said, as if you didn't notice the signs.

The late nights, the alcohol on his breath, the lack of physical intimacy with you, the ruffled, messy state of his clothes and hair. It was painfully obvious at this point. You felt ashamed for not saying something sooner. 

“..There was just one night where you came home smelling like another woman and I—I just don’t know Kuroo. I wanted to make sure that last time wasn’t happening again.” You averted your gaze, not being able to stand the hatred in your boyfriend's eyes. You felt small against his larger frame and even larger, hurtful words. 

“Ha! Isn’t that something? You’re probably cheating on me with how much you work from home.” He dryly chuckled, throwing accusations as if they were sharpened knives now. 

“Kuroo, why aren’t you listening? You saying things like that hurt me, you know? I've been faithful since we agreed to be in this relationship. I'm just worried that history is repeating itself.” You try to get his attention back on the topic; he just wasn't listening to you.

You could feel your eyes starting to water, the buildup of arguing, the ache in your stomach, and the painful incriminations he was throwing. It was beyond hurtful, it ached.

“You’re delusional if you think you smelled another woman on me. There was no one at the office; nothing has happened since last April; nothing.” The bellowing of his voice was meant to try and beckon you to listen to him. And you were finally silent; you knew your pathetic voice would waver if you said something, anything right now. 

You watched Tetsuro open a bottle of alcohol, not caring that he just openly hurt your feelings without any regard to how you might actually feel and didn’t try to console you either. 

Opening your mouth to try and say something to reason with him, you couldn’t even say a singular syllable. 

“Just fucking drop it,” He muttered before trying to slide past you into the cupboard to find something to eat. 

"I’m leaving you.” Your voice harrowingly got out, and you glared at the floor, hating that you got dealt these shitty cards. You carefully took off the promise ring that you now realize was nothing more than just an empty promise and set it on the cold counter. 

"Fine, you'll realize that you're the problem. The toxic, insecure, crazy one and then come crawling back to me,” He said without a hint of remorse; you knew though. You knew that he wasn't your caring, sweet, helpful boyfriend anymore; he was someone's. And you damn sure were not going to fight for him. 

You watched as he left the house through the back door; you didn’t bother to check Life360 as you probably knew where he was going. You were right, unfortunately yet again. 

Not being able to take the heartbreak, you decided to pack. You wanted to leave this home; you wished Kuroo made you happy like he did in the beginning of the relationship, but instead all he does is make you stressed and upset. 

You gather your at-home work supplies, main toiletries, important documents, sentimentals, and clothes to last you three whole weeks. You could replace everything else; hell, you were a working woman, not some rando he could kick to the street to make you fend for yourself.

You figured he’d clear out the rest of your things before he invited his new girl here. 

You carefully put your personal belongings in your car before leaving the key to the house under the front door mat. You decided to take a few minutes to give yourself a cry; you needed it. Your entire life of what you thought you knew was completely destroyed within thirty minutes; you had to cry or else you wouldn't be okay. 

When you pulled out of the driveway, you called Kenma from your car. Kenma has been your best friend since college; he actually introduced you and Kuroo to each other.

And look how that turned out. Although, you had hardly spoken to him in a few because Kuroo cut off your contact with anyone that wasn’t him—mostly any male. 

Once the dialing ended, Kenma picked up. You tried to gather what to say in a few short moments, watching the streetlamps pass you by as you drove.

“Can I stay at your place for a few days?” You asked before he could ever say 'hello'. You cringed at your voice, which was raspy from the argument and the tears you shed. 

“Oh, yeah, sure. What happened?" Concern laced Kenma's voice for you; he was always so observant of your emotional state. But then again, you did sound horrible right now. 

“Kuroo cheated on me again; I left him this time; I should've—I just should’ve left the first instead.” You tried to keep it together and not have to pull over and cry about the situation. 

There was silence over the phone for a few minutes except the small sniffles and clearing of your throat. "I’m sorry, Y/n. You deserve better than someone who easily breaks your heart like this.” You could tell that Kenma felt guilty because he was the one who set the both of you up on a date.

"I’m sorry that I’m going to crash at your place to get my life together; I know I’m a lot.” You sighed, parking in his driveway. His house was as huge as ever; living the rich life did suit him though. 

“No, you’re not a lot. Things happen, and I’m glad I’m someone you can lean on.” He genuinely reassured you, peeking out of the living room curtains and seeing your headlights, then ending the phone call.

You gathered your things and headed inside to Kenma's house, not having been here in a couple. It was just as admirable as the first time you were here.

“Were you just streaming right now?" You called in the house curiously; you could hear gaming sounds in the background of the phone call, they were much too familiar to listen to. 

Kenma came from around the corner of the kitchen; he was in his typical comfortable merch that he made. His hair was pulled back, and he had a bowl of curry in his hand. 

He paused, taking your form just like you did to him, except he was wary of your blotchy face and red eyes. 

"..Yeah—yeah, I was. But don’t feel bad; I was supposed to get something to eat anyway.” He half smiled at you, a small crinkle in his eyes. 

“You can make yourself comfortable in any room in the house; I'm going to finish my stream. If you need me, you know where to find me.” He turned away from you with a glance that you didn't see as you got familiar with his home again. 

“Thanks, Ken,” You mumbled as he was already gone. You were going straight for the room that has always brought you comfort—Kenma's bedroom.

Collapsing on his fluffy bed was the highlight of your night, letting the feelings of the breakup wash over you. You knew that it would be something you'd bring up with your therapist this week; she would help you and talk you through your mind process like she always did. 

Your eyes wandered as you controlled your breathing, grounding yourself with the distant memory that you last had about Kenma's room. It was always your safe space back then. You sighed and rolled over onto your back.

After lounging around and letting your emotions process thoroughly, you finally got up, the heartache from the past few hours still fresh. 

"I didn’t expect you would pick my room, but that’s okay. It brings back memories of our sleepovers.” Kenma's voice rang out, opening his black-painted bedroom door, effectively startling you, which made you jump. 

You regained your posture and gave a small, worried smile. “Are you sure? I can leave. Sorry, this just, just brings me comfort, you know?” You softly smiled, gazing around the room that you both would always share. 

Back then, if Kenma hadn't introduced you to Kuroo, you would have probably confessed to him. The thought made your eyes widen a bit, and you blinked it to the back of your mind because anything else could come of it. 

He leaned on the door frame and said, "No, it’s okay for you to stay. Were you about to sleep or something?” He raised a brow, not knowing that you planned to sleep with him. Nevertheless, he didn't care because, after all, he's missed you. 

You winced, not fond of the idea of sleep right now. “Not really. I know I shouldn’t mess up my sleep schedule like this, but life kind of got in the way." You dryly chuckled, gathering your comfortable clothes that you would usually sleep in at your now-old home. 

You sighed with despair, not being able to keep it in. The silence only egged you on as Kenma waited, his gaze only on you.

"I just keep feeling sorry for myself. How I should’ve been stronger to leave instead of being so lenient with him cheating on me so easily.” You were getting teary-eyed again, hating the situation you could've left from but didn't.

A soothing voice and an even more soothing hand surrounded your senses, trying to calm you. “That's normal. You thought you could trust again, so you tried it, and he proved you wrong. It just shows that you both weren’t compatible, a shitty thing for me to say, but I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you; you know me.” You could even hear the smile in his voice at that last part.

However, you were oblivious to the painstakingly ache in his posture due to the guilt of him putting you through that. 

“Yeah, I do. Thank you for always being honest with me. I really appreciate it, Kenma. It means a lot. You’re practically the only person I trust—to always give me the truth.” You paused at that bit, realizing how awfully true it was. 

“Always. I don't think I’d lie about anything; I don’t really see a point in it.” Kenma pondered out loud before going to light a few candles and turn on a warm-colored lamp for you since you’d be in here.

“Don’t worry about finding someplace to go yet. It’s okay for you to recuperate from life for a few days first.” He finished, his kindness for you glaringly obvious, but that's all you took it for, was kindness. You nodded, physically there but mentally not. 

“What are you doing?” Broke you out of your trance-like state; staring at a computer screen for hours on end didn't do your eyesight any good.

“Working..” You mumbled out, knowing he was able to scold you about this. You never stayed up late to do work, to party, to drink, anything. You felt like you were boring and this was a way to combat it, especially with you feeling guilty for yourself.

“Why? You’ve had like three hours of sleep; I thought you were going to recuperate from life.” Kenma asked, he had noticed that you were knocked out earlier. He came into his room to check up on you, but you were sound asleep, peacefully. Knowing you were finally safe from harm in any way made him feel good inside. 

"I tried; it didn’t work.” You turned back to your screen, wheeling around in Kenma’s office chair. You didn’t bother pretending like you didn’t know what you could and could not touch or act new with him. 

“Have you thought about trying harder?” He snorted, but he genuinely cared about your wellbeing right now. He flicked on the above light, it was better than nothing right now, he also cared about your eyes. 

"I’m only joking Y/n. want me to stay here with you or at least bring you something?” You saw his reflection on the screen, being able to notice his change of clothes now that you were sitting in complete darkness with the only light from your computer shining. 

“No, I’m fine.” You said, earning yourself a squint from Kenma, not that you could see it as you were still typing away.

“You’ve been here at my house for almost eight hours and have yet to eat or drink something. Restricting your body from things like that as a poor coping mechanism isn’t healthy.” He scolded, being actually serious. Ironic how he learned that from his best friend in high school, however, Kenma wasn’t even sure he wanted to call Kuroo his best friend after what happened tonight.

"I—I know that, I wasn’t going to.” You stammered, trying to think of an excuse with him standing right there, taking a few small steps to further his point. “Okay, maybe I was going to, but now I obviously won’t.” You rolled your eyes, not bothering to lie to him. 

"I’ll bring you something, and then we’ll see if you change your mind about working.” He patted your head like he used to, it brought you back to an easier life, a simpler life where you were actually happy and didn’t live your life anxiously. 

Being with Kenma was like breathing, it was simple. 

You didn’t feel insecure because you didn’t have make up on, or that you cried, or probably didn't look the best right now. Kenma wasn’t Kuroo, Kenma cared. 

You knew he always had and probably always would. It was beyond palliating to know that Kenma cared about the important things like whether you were okay, if you had eaten or drank anything, if you needed someone to support you emotionally or help you vent.

He didn’t care about the other things like pressuring you to always look perfect or to stray out of your comfort zone for business parties with people who made you uncomfortable. 

That brought you back to the present. “This, my god, this is so good Kenma. I'm stuffed.” You groaned at the last bite of the delicious meal Kenma made you. The pristine glass plates that Kenma knew you loved, he plated your food on that like he always used to do when you stayed over.

"I’m glad you like it. You can have the recipe if you want it.” He offered, sitting comfortably on the extra chair he pulled up so he could make sure you ate and finished the meal. 

“That’d be perfect, thank you.” You smiled an actual happy smile, you loved when Kenma did things for you without you having to ask. 

“How do you feel now?” He took your plate in his hands, standing up and wiping off the desk with your unused napkin. You watched him and yawned before responding. 

“Kind of sleepy; I just want to lay down or something.” You mumbled, rubbing your sleepy eyes, your body finally going into relaxation after he had pulled you out of the state you were in. 

“Told you.” Kenma pointedly said, “Go on, I’ll shut this stuff down for you.” He resisted the urge to kiss on your temple, watching your figure sleepy shuffle into the hallway. 

“Thank you, Kennie.” You sleepily said before leaving, hoping he would come sleep with you too, you missed those nights. The gloamings you spent with him was comforting, you wished you didn’t trade that up for someone like Kuroo who hardly ever wanted to be away from work for you. 

That night, you went to bed sound asleep. Unfortunately, Kenma couldn’t bring himself to 

“You make me feel like my breakup wasn’t the end of the world.”

“That’s because it wasn’t the end of the world. How long have you gone without basic human decency?” Kenma asked you, already knowing the answer to that.

Between the last few days, Kenma’s been your listener, besides your therapist, to help you overcome your breakup. The way he has cared for you without expecting anything else in return was endearing, almost too endearing that it hurt your heart.

You knew your feelings by the end of the few days of staying at Kenma’s, the feelings that came back from when you both used to be close. However, even if he was ready for you, you weren’t for him. You had to go. 

Moving the conversation along away from the awkwardness that surrounded you both, "I’m glad I got a therapist a while back because between you and her, I think I’ve helped myself a good amount from the breakup, and it’s only been almost two weeks.” You surprisingly said, grateful for the fact that you mentally checked out of the relationship a while ago but still needed to process it. 

You continued, not watching Kenma but your phone to show him. “That reminds me; I’m going to start looking for apartments so I can be out of your hair soon. You’re amazing for letting me stay so long, Ken.” Smiling, you pushed the lit up screen towards his view, showing the apartments that were way nicer than you expected. It even had an elevator! You were fondly surprised at that. 

As you kept raving about all these fancy apartments you found, occasionally scrolling through the apartment list to remember the details, you were interrupted abruptly by Kenma. 

"You can stay." Was all he said, that’s when you finally looked at him. The room seemed to still as you met eye contact with him too, in his eyes…you could tell he didn’t want you to go.

He wasn’t ready for you to leave after he finally just got you back. Unable to eventually stop you from going, he had to tell you how he felt about you leaving. 

You were speechless when it came to responding to him. Of course, you wanted to stay but it would go against what you planned, however you knew what you would say. Besides, you haven’t even put a payment in for the apartment number yet. 

Kenma scratched the back of his neck, a random habit he never got rid of when you were around. "If you'd like, it's nice to have you around more often." The tenderness in his eyes was just so familiar now to you that you just had to accept his offer.

Living with your best friend who you may have a slight simmering crush for, knowing that it was requited too wasn’t the worst idea. Quite frankly, it seemed like one of the better options at this point. 

And so, you happily agreed, you finally got the taste of comfort again and you desperately wanted to keep it. Your mind felt at peace, not racing with horrid thoughts all the time about whether or not Kenma had ill will towards you. You loved, and needed, your best friend because the nights he brought you were everything you lacked without him. 

The warmth from the lamps that he turned on every evening as soon as the sun went down because he knew you loved them. Kenma would always light a small candle or two before you both got comfortable on the bed that you now sleep in with him. He even kept your Nintendo switch that he bought for you because you expressed interest in it once.

You always wondered where it went too, however, nights with Kenma dwelled on animal crossing and your favorite sweet treat. You didn’t have to worry about restricting yourself to no end because you were told to keep your shape up.

Looking up from your switch, you watched Kenma’s concentrated face, loving the little details you could see up close, especially his blue light glasses. You also adored how he kept his hair long, sporadically putting it in a pony.

The face framing pieces of hair, that you now play with every so often, were your favorite.

“Ken…thank you, for letting me come back into your life. I wish I never left.” You paused, letting him hold eye contact with you.

“It was worth it though, because now I know.” You hinted, but didn’t say anything else. Relishing in the fact that Kenma’s response was purely just to pull you closer to him. 

a/n: requests are open! hope you like & this is all my work <3

[tradgedyinwaves]

Touch - Ch. 6

TW: Mentions of Stalking

The next couple weeks were filled with cute dates and hang outs, either at your flat or theirs. You never saw Simon, always hiding in his room or out of the flat, running errands. But every night you’d go home, something felt off. You’d seen the man in the skull mask a few times, each time making you more and more wary. Finally, you’d said something to the boys one time when you were over.

“He just stands there, watching me. He’s never interacted with me or anything. But sometimes I swear someone’s been in my apartment,” you divulged as you laid on their couch, head in Johnny’s lap as you stared up at the ceiling. You didn’t see as Price’s eyes narrowed and Kyle looked towards Simon’s room. “We’ll look into it, petal. See what we can find out,” Johnny assured you, combing his fingers through your hair.

When you left that night, they confronted Simon. Rapping his knuckles against the door, Price called out to Simon, “Simon, can we talk?” The door opened and Simon looked over the three men standing outside his door. “Uh, sure,” he replied, eyebrow cocked as he stepped back and allowed them to file into the room he shared with Johnny when they all stayed there. 

They all settled into seats around the room; Johnny and Simon on the bed whilst Kyle sat in an armchair in the corner. Price stayed standing, arms crossed over his broad chest. “I’m going to come right out and say this and I want an honest answer, Simon,” Price commanded, his tone dropping into the one he used when they were deployed. “Are you stalking her?” Simon’s eyes went wide and he stood from the bed, shaking his head vehemently and trying to fight down the anger he had at being accused. “Hell no. I wouldn’t risk it. Why do you ask?” Simon questioned, his own arms crossing over his massive chest. “She told us about some guy in a skull mask watching her, stalking her building. If it’s not you, we need to find out who it is and quick,” Kyle explained, watching Simon with an uneasy gaze. “It’s not me,” Simon defended quickly, raising his hands to run through his dark hair. 

“Sounds like we have work to do. We’re going to have to get you and her reacquainted quickly,” Johnny added, diffusing the situation with one statement. Simon sighed in agreement. 

Back at your flat, you finally noticed something missing, your hairbrush. 

The next morning.  

👀: Wanna come over, dove? 🪻: Be there in 10

When you arrived, you could feel tension in the air. You were buzzed in quickly before you even touched the button. The door was unlocked as it always was when they knew you were coming. Stepping inside, you noticed there were four bodies in the living room, the only one you hadn’t spoken to with his back to you and his head in his hands. Something lit up in the back of your head and you tried to place him. “Come on in, dove. There’s tea on the table for you,” Kyle called from his spot on the couch. You clocked the tea he was speaking of and grabbed it, heading for your spot in the other corner of the couch. You refrained from looking at the new addition, butterflies fluttering away in your stomach. “What’s going on? You guys look like you’re breaking up with me,” you breathed out, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “Simon wanted to meet you, or well, reintroduce himself properly,” Price explained from his armchair. Reintroduce himself? You knew him? The man pulled his head out of his hands, brown eyes meeting yours. A soft gasp fell from your lips and your fingers tightened on the cup in your hands. “Guess I didn’t technically introduce myself the first time either,” he stated, an edge to his voice that you couldn’t decipher between amusement or stress. 

You couldn’t choose an emotion. Anger swirled in you while you remembered the way he left. Confusion tinged the anger as you tried to process how he was here. Happiness was in there somewhere, recognizing the man who’d calmed you down on the worst night of your life. 

“I’m going to need some explanation, because right now, I’m going with stalking and if that’s the case, you’re all in on it,” you wheezed, shaky hand now setting down the cup of tea. Johnny chuckled at your assumption, shaking his head while Price glared at him from his armchair, warning the younger man that now was not the time for his input. 

“I was in New York on a mission,” Simon stated very simply and you raised your brow. “Gonna need more than that, man,” you replied, mentally reminding yourself to breathe and stay calm. Simon made a sound that resembled a chuckle, but it was low and dark, almost inaudible. “Reconnaissance mission. Gathering intel on a group of terrorists hiding out in that building. Took time to find them, but it’s a damn good thing you left when you did.” Simon spoke as if the building had blown up. (It had. Two days after you moved out.) 

“So why are you here now?” You asked, feeling his words chipping away at your anxieties. “Well, technically, I own that couch you're sitting on,” Simon huffed, brow raised over his eyes, almost black from the low lighting in the room. “I own this flat and everything in it. The boys come to stay sometimes,” he continued, giving the men in the room a look that looked like he was smiling. 

“How did you find me?” You questioned, needing answers now and not having time for their loving moment unfortunately. “If I’m being honest, I roped my team into helping me find you, but you did a really good job of disappearing for a civie. Couldn’t find you until suddenly you were standing in the market in my hometown,” he explained, watching you now with his ever observant eyes. 

“Okay…so what? You convinced them into stalking me and inserting themselves into my life?” You were getting worked up, feeling your throat tighten at the idea that everything with them had been a lie.

“Petal,” Johnny began, coming to sit in front of you on the coffee table, the situation very similar to the night before. “Yes, it started that way, but each of us feel very strongly for you. You’ve become such a large part of our lives and we couldn’t imagine what it would be like without you,” he finished, reaching out tentatively to rest his hand on your knee. 

“I see,” you stated, looking between Johnny’s hand on your knee and each of their faces. “I think I need a minute,” you didn’t give them a chance to say anything as you rose from your seat and disappeared into the bathroom. 

Panic rose in your chest as you leaned against the back of the door, feeling a little like you just couldn’t get away from your past. But was Simon really your past? Yes, he’d left you there, but he’d tried to comfort you, calmed you down when you felt like your world was ending.

And the others. They’d been nothing but perfect gentlemen. Ever since the night with Price, they hadn’t done more than kiss you, even while their hands would skirt over the small of your back or drape their arm over your shoulders. Small touches that lit your skin on fire, making embers of arousal burn between your thighs. 

Running your fingers through your hair, you pushed off the door and splashed water on your face before staring at your reflection. You looked happier. No more bags under your eyes or the edge of sadness that had settled in the corners. You found yourself putting more effort into your appearance, confidence building with the way they treated you. Nodding your head at your reflection, you decided what you were going to do. 

While you were in the bathroom, the boys had sat in silence for a moment before Simon dropped his head back into his hands. Price had slumped for the first time in years, feeling as though this was it for them. Johnny and Kyle looked to each other with hope lining their morose features. They were scared. Scared that you would leave them and never come back. 

This story has gotten so far from my original intention, but we're going to roll with it.

Thank you to everyone who has commented, reblogged and liked! I really appreciate every one of you!

[pickingupmymercedes]

Through the night - Lewis Hamilton

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: Through the night - Maeta (ft. Free Nationals) - @goldenroutledge

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: angst

wordcount: +2k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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It was always like this with Lewis—his world moved at a million miles an hour, and I was just trying to keep with the pace.

The late-night texts, the spontaneous flights to wherever he happened to be racing that weekend, the stolen moments between races.

It was thrilling, sure, but sometimes it felt like I was chasing a mirage. He always just that little bit out of reach.

I met him in a professional setting—an interview, of all things. I had questions prepared, but the moment I sat across from him, the only question that ran through my mind was how someone could look that good in person.

I played it cool, of course. But it didn’t take long before things blurred past professionalism, past boundaries.

One look across the room, one lingering touch after a handshake, and it was on.

Our whirlwind situationship was fast paced. And no clear lines, no definitions. Just feelings simmering beneath the surface, ready to boil over.

I never really knew what to expect with him, and that was the catch.

As I sat waiting for him in a suite in NYC, watching the sun dip low over the horizon, I felt that familiar mix of excitement and frustration building.

It had been like this for months, us meeting when his schedule allowed, me rearranging mine to fit into his.

The moments we had were raw, passionate, like we were both trying to forget the world outside that room. But they were always fleeting. We never talked about what we were, where this was going.

Hell, I didn’t even know if he ever thought about it at all.

And he was late, as usual. I was used to it by now, but that night it was bothering me more than it should.

I stared at my phone, waiting for the text that said he was on his way, or maybe one saying he had to cancel because of some last-minute commitment. It could go either way with Lewis, and I had learned to live in that uncertainty.

But I was starting to wonder how many times could I drop everything for him without knowing if he’d do the same for me?

And just as I was about to convince myself to leave, my phone buzzed on the table, and his name flashed across the screen.

Lewis: Be there in 10.

A sigh escaped my lips as I tossed the phone back down. Ten minutes. Enough time to get my head right, I guess.

I stood up, walking over to the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over the city. The city lights, from that up above, glittered like a postcard, but I couldn’t appreciate it really.

I was too caught up in my thoughts, in the question that had been gnawing at me for weeks now. How do I know what he’s feeling?

I shook my head, annoyed with myself. What kind of question was that to ask someone like Lewis? The man wasn’t even mine to ask him anything.

We weren’t exclusive. Hell, we weren’t even defined. Yet here I was, feeling some things I hadn’t felt in a while—things I wasn’t ready to admit out loud.

I turned when I heard the door click open. Lewis walked in, his usual confidence radiating from him, though there was a softness in his smile when he saw me.

"Hey" he said, his voice low and easy. He closed the door behind him, shrugging off his jacket.

"Hi" I replied, forcing a smile. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to shake off the nagging thoughts in my head.

He walked over to me, his hands finding my waist almost instinctively, pulling me in for a kiss.

It was familiar, his lips soft but demanding, like he was trying to remind me of why we did this—why we kept coming back to each other. And for a moment, I let myself melt into him, forgetting everything else.

But then, just as quickly, the doubts crept back in.

I pulled away, looking up at him, studying his face. “You’re late” I said, trying to keep the accusation out of my voice.

Lewis shrugged, his hands still resting on my hips. “You know how it is. Meetings ran longer than expected”

I nodded, but I wasn’t satisfied. I stepped back, putting some space between us. "Yeah, I get that. I always get that."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly catching on to my mood. “What’s going on?”

I hesitated, unsure of how to even start this conversation. It wasn’t like we did this—talk about feelings, about where we stood.

But I was tired of feeling like I was the only one trying to make this work.

I bit my lip before finally speaking. “Do you ever think about this?” I gestured between us. “What we’re doing? Where it’s going?”

He looked taken aback, not expecting the question. "Y/n, I thought we were just… I mean, we have fun, right?"

Fun. That word felt like a slap, even though I knew it was true.

We did have fun. But that wasn’t enough anymore.

He sighed, running a hand in his arm, clearly trying to find the right words. "You know how my life is. It’s crazy. The races, the press, everything. It’s hard to just drop everything."

“Right” I countered, my voice firmer now. "I get it, your life is on a different level, but I need to know you’re in this, that I’m not just a convenience."

He took a step toward me, his hands finding mine. “You’re not a convenience, Y/n. You know I care about you.”

I shook my head, frustration bubbling up again. “Then show me. I need more than just stolen seconds. I need to know you’re trying too.”

Lewis exhaled, his eyes searching mine. "I’ve been doing this for so long, living my life on the road, never really staying in one place. It’s been a while since I had to balance things."

I could feel the sincerity in his words, the weight of his own struggles, but I needed more than just words. I needed action.

"Try" I whispered. "Just try. Show me you can make time for me. That you’re not just caught up in your world."

He pulled me closer, his forehead resting against mine. "I’ll try. I’ll figure this out." he said quietly.

I pulled back slightly, looking up at him. His words hung in the air, sincere but somehow fragile, like they might blow away with the next gust of wind.

"You’ll try" I repeated, a bitter edge creeping into my voice.

Lewis frowned, his hands still on my waist, but I could feel the tension growing between us. “I just need time to figure things out.”

I let out a sharp breath, stepping out of his hold, needing space to think. "Time? We’ve had time, Lewis. Months of it. And yet, every time, I’m here waiting, rearranging my life for you."

The frustration bubbled up, and I couldn’t stop it anymore. "Do you even think about me when I’m not around? Or is it just convenient when I’m here, fitting into whatever gaps you have?"

His face tightened, his jaw clenching slightly. "You know that’s not true."

I shook my head, feeling the doubt clawing at me, stronger now. "But I don’t know that, Lewis. I don’t know anything. What if I’m just something you enjoy when it’s easy? "

He looked like I had just punched him in the gut, his eyes narrowing as he processed what I said. "You’re not just some casual fling to me, Y/n. I wouldn’t keep coming back if that’s all you were."

I crossed my arms, not fully convinced. “Then why does it feel like I’m the only one making sacrifices? I need to know that I’m not in this alone.”

There it was—the raw truth that I’d been holding back for too long. The truth that maybe I wasn’t the only one doubting where this was heading, but I was definitely the one who needed more than what we had now.

For a moment, Lewis was silent, his eyes searching mine. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and careful. "I know I’ve been selfish. I haven’t had to think about balancing my life with someone else’s in years. But I want to learn how to do this with you, Y/n."

I held his gaze, trying to read him, trying to figure out if this was something he could truly follow through on or if it was just more words.

And I hated that I was doubting him. I hated that I couldn’t just take his promise and believe it.

But how could I? This had been my life for months now, living on the edges of his, always waiting for when he had time, for when he wasn’t in a whirlwind of commitments.

He squeezed my hands gently, his expression more serious than I’d ever seen it. "You’re not just something on the side. I’ll show you."

I searched his face, the sincerity there pulling at me, but the doubt lingered. I wasn’t sure if I could just trust that things would be different now, but I had to give him the chance to prove it.

I sighed, nodding slowly, though my heart was still heavy with uncertainty. "Words aren’t enough anymore."

He nodded, pulling me close again, his forehead resting against mine. "I’m not going to lose you." he whispered, his breath warm against my skin.

I closed my eyes, leaning into him, feeling the warmth of his breath against my skin. "Rendezvous" I murmured. "Make me feel like I’m part of your life, not just something on the side."

______________________________________________________________

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[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hello!! I would like to request a part 2 (or not? more like another POV) to the protective younger sibling!sidekick snippet if you’re okay with it ^^

This time it’s hero asking henchman to meet up and henchman just panics like “omg do they know who i am?? bro im going to get my ass beat and die 😭💀” and decides to spill everything from their real identity to their bar escapades with sidekick

but in reality hero was just really glad that their younger sibling finally got a special someone so they just wanted to get to know them more and all about their relationship😭 also ofc they knew who henchman was all along, duh (their villain lover tells them literally everything)

pt. 1

“I swear, I wasn’t trying to spy on them or anything like that — at first I didn’t even know it was them and I think they still don’t know it’s me. I just kind of met them a couple of times coincidentally and I don’t know, I like them a lot, I really do. They’re so smart and like, I don’t know, so quick? Like they can keep up with my mind and I wasn’t really trying anything at first, I didn’t even think they’d like me and I was just kind of—”

“Woah, I didn’t even get to accuse you of anything.” The hero played with their pen out of habit and studied the henchman. They were certainly panicking and the hero was not going to let something this small turn into this giant thing. “I wish all my interrogations would go that way. Would make my job certainly easier…”

“Please don’t kill me,” the henchman whispered.

“Jeez. Relax. I’m not gonna kill you for dating my sibling.” The hero rolled their eyes. What exactly was their lover telling the henchman about them? That they were some sort of monster?

They definitely needed to talk to the villain. They’d danced around this subject for a while now. When the hero had found out a few weeks ago, they had wanted to talk to the henchman immediately but the villain had urged them not to rush into anything.

And they supposed the villain was right about that.

Getting into other people’s business didn’t always turn out great for the hero.

And they simply really wanted to see their lover.

“Technically, we’re not dating…”

“Well, whatever you want to call it, I can’t tell you what to do and what not to do. You’re great, so I have nothing to fear. I just wanted to get to know you a little better.” The hero worried their lip between their teeth. Maybe they had enough time to visit the villain during lunch? They let the pen spin in their hand.

“Wait…really?”

“Yeah, you’re old enough, I reckon. You can decide these things for yourself.” The hero took in a deep breath. Maybe they should review some cases first? For whatever reason, their mind kept jumping from one topic to another and they weren’t really sure if it was the coffee or them being a little more nervous than they wanted to admit.

This was their sibling’s first (potential) relationship. Clearly, they were old enough and the henchman was a great choice but the hero wondered if their sibling wanted to distance themselves now that they were older.

Whatever choice they’d make, the hero was going to support them, even if that meant they were the annoying older sibling. Maybe the villain had some advice for them.

They closed their eyes and took in a deep breath. Speculating wouldn’t get them far.

“I’m not really used to…responsibility, I guess?” The henchman stared at the hero’s desk as if they were trying to control it with their mind. Their nervousness had shifted to embarrassment and the hero didn’t want that in their office either.

“How so?”

The henchman thought about their words carefully, as if the hero was still an enemy they needed to be cautious around.

That was smart. But the hero doubted they still saw them as a threat. If they really wanted to date the hero’s sibling, they’d try everything to end up on the hero’s good side.

God, their mind was racing. They really needed to see the villain. They always managed to calm them down.

“…sometimes I feel more like a burden to the villain. They barely take me out on missions or let me help them,” they eventually said and the hero couldn’t believe how far off the henchman was with an assumption like that.

Them? A burden to the villain who protected them, shielded them as if they were their own child?

“They’re terrified of losing you,” the hero said.

“I can take care of myself. I’m not dumb.”

“They don’t think you are.” The hero clicked their pen a couple of times and doodled some hearts onto paper. The henchman seemed to be a usually quiet person but right now, a lot of frustration was set free.

It wasn’t exactly anger; it was disappointment.

“Still, I would appreciate a little more trust. I am more than capable to help them. I don’t want to do just research. One time, they nearly died because they didn’t tell me they were injured.”

“They do trust you. They’re just trying to shield you from the bad things. Believe me, I’ve tried doing that and I’ve failed,” the hero said.

“Then what am I doing wrong? I’m not a child anymore. I know how to fight.”

The hero was quiet for a moment. Apparently those doubts had manifested throughout time. The henchman felt quite worthless and couldn’t really see how much the villain actually cared about them.

How the villain made sure they were eating and drinking enough. How they called them several times a day to make sure they were okay. How they researched schools and workplaces for them all the time.

“You’re an orphan, aren’t you?” they asked as gentle as possible.

The henchman nodded. “I barely talk about it.”

“Well, the villain is an orphan as well and they were robbed of their childhood. They don’t want you to grow up as quick as they had to. That’s why they let you do…well, office work instead of getting your hands dirty. It’s more of an excuse. They want you to study people instead of fighting them.”

“…but they need me. They’re a total idiot sometimes. Last week they were clearly outnumbered and almost got themselves killed. Again.”

“Well, thank God I am here now to help them. More or less.” The hero leaned back. Most of the time, they disagreed with the villain when it came to work. But they’d obviously break a few rules to save their lover every now and then. “You need them just as much as they need you, don’t you?”

The henchman didn’t meet their eyes, so the hero continued.

“You think they don’t care and you think they’re pushing you away but that’s not true. Truth is, this isn’t all fun and games. Seeing someone you love collapse is the worst thing in the world. Losing someone close to you is an indescribable grief. Let me do the saving and the nasty work. You can guide them. Do the research and make plans. Fight my sibling occasionally…”

Suddenly, the henchman blushed.

“Oh, I…uh…”

“You’re right. You aren’t a child anymore and you can decide what you want to do with your future. But there are people who care about you and they will try to shield you from danger, no matter how old you are.” The hero stretched their limbs and suppressed a yawn. They stared at the doodles they had drawn on a few sticky notes.

They had subconsciously written the first letter of the villain’s name into the hearts.

Now, they really wanted to see their villain. They knew their lover was calculated and smart and capable but the hero needed to see that stupid smirk more than anything. All this talk about danger and death…

“Don’t worry, okay?” they asked and the henchman nodded. “If you need anything, just ask me.”

“Thank you. Really, thank you.”

The hero stared at the doodles and smiled softly.

“Don’t you have a date to go on? Or is that tomorrow?” they asked.

“Tomorrow—” The henchman was still blushing when they stood up. “I should, uh, probably go. Again, you really helped me. Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

It was safe to say that the hero and the villain had lunch together.

[mysouleaten]

THIEF !! [part four]

PLATONIC! pet shop owners! baji, chifuyu and kazutora x teen!reader

summary... uh-oh... where'd your phone go??...

warnings... cuss words, description of injury, and soft baji at the end

[part one] [part two] [part three] [part four]

the final bell rings for the class to end

your teacher says goodbye and quickly tells everyone to prepare for the quiz on tuesday

putting on your headphones over your ears and walking down the crowded hall of students rushing either to get home or to their respective clubs

you thankfully didn't have a club to rush to and didn't have a bus to catch so you could take your sweet time walking home..

..or you could pop into your favorite pet shop to see if anything caught your eye to actually buy this time, you got your pay-check and your mother sent you around fifty bucks so that was a plus

looking down at your phone to turn up the volume in your headphones you don't notice how someone is about to run right into you until it was too late

a huge box filled with whatever had slammed right into your face

"ah! fuck!" you yelled, the heavy box slammed right above your brow giving it a pretty big blow that was gonna bruise

someone quickly came to apologize and help you to the nurse's office

great way to start your weekend..

looking in the mirror at the huge bruise that formed above your eyebrow was painful and very obvious

"just fuckin great, huh?" you curse

rolling your eyes you walk to your kitchen and get out an ice pack from the freezer then grab a couple of paper towels and wrap them around the ice pack

laying on your couch and holding the ice pack on your bruise

"mew"

you turn your head to the right and look down at a ginger cat staring up at you with big baby green eye

"oh..no don't tell me im about of cat food again..?" you whine

"meeeooowww"

hearing more cats on your balcony whining for more food indicated that you in fact have no more cat food

"damn.."

baji snapped his head up at the sound of the doorbell jingling

it was a teen that sort of fit the description that ryusei had given them a couple of days ago

the kid had [ec]eye-color eyes that fit the description, the same hoodie and mask, and a nasty bruise above their brow.. that wasn't part of the description...

baji just followed them with his eyes but the teen slipped away into the back of the store baji couldn't see them back there

spacing out while looking at the cat food, a horrible headache just formed while walking to the pet shop but you were already halfway there to the shop and didn't feel like turning back

and your bruise felt like someone was drumming on it

you look around and see the long-black-haired owner leaning on the counter watching you with cat-like eyes daring you to try and steal something..

yeah.. you weren't gonna risk it..

he could probably be able to catch you easily and body slam you..

which.. could be illegal? you weren't sure right now, you just wanna go home and take a big fat nap

picking up some wet food and kibble and headed over to the counter where the owner was still staring at you with an accusing look but he didn't say anything ...yet

.

.

.

"have.. you been stealing from here..?"

you swallowed the spit that built up in your mouth

"no?.. im paying aren't I?"

"yeah, I guess you are," he said and didn't bother saying anything else besides telling you your change

you finally came through the doors to your apartment, put the bags of pet food on the balcony, and sat on the couch to ease the headache

you then reach into your hoodie pocket to grab your phone but it isn't there, then reaching into the pockets of your pants... your phone wasn't there either..

you're about to have a meltdown

baji stared down at the lock screen of the phone the teen had left on the counter, he hadn't noticed it until a ringtone had started to play but he was too late to tell the kid to come back

but now he was staring at the face of their thief, who matched the description perfectly from ryusei's story..

it was you in your original outfit from a couple days ago when ryusei had tried to follow you, --you squatting down with your phone about your head catching the cats next to you eating from their food bowls and a large dog laying next to them..

.

.

.

at least you were stealing for a good cause.. baji thought

uhh.. I think like.. one or two chapters are left??? :D

taglist... @whatamidoing89

[lightlycareless]

Do you think at any point in Naoya’s life that he was ticklish and do you think that as an adult he might still be ticklish? Lately, I’ve been thinking about how if Naoya maybe had one part of his body that was still pretty ticklish that he tries to keep quiet about since he doesn’t wanna embarrass himself until somehow Y/N finds out 🤭

Heya!!

Aww, this was unbearably fluffy cute ngl. Anything that has Naoya acting like an actual, dorkish human is enough to have my heart all ajghajksgha uwu. Hope you enjoy this small thing I wrote!

warnings: fluff. mentions of pregnancy. .....pee I guess. hahahahahaha it's meant to be cute, everyday pregnancy things I swear lmao. a bit of highschool au.

happy reading!!

Ticklish Naoya is one of those things that no one ever saw happening mainly because… well, it’s not like anyone is testing it out to see if it’s true, you know?

No one had it in their minds to approach the heir, place their hands on his sides and tickle him to see if he’d have some kind of reaction.

No one, except that is, you.

It was a silly bet, whether ignited by your curiosity or perhaps your need to be unnecessarily close to him, either way, you’d find yourself in that exact situation one fateful afternoon, under the pretense of wanting to get some hands-on training experience with the only other excellent sorcerer you trusted!

And of course, having a small crush on you as well but yet to confess it, Naoya didn’t deny the opportunity, completely unaware of your ulterior motivations, until it was too late.

“You said you wanted to… test your accuracy?”

“Mmhmm.” You innocently nod. “I’ve been having issues with my aim as of lately, maybe I need to be tested under pressure? No holding back punches if you know what I mean!”

“Are you sure?” Naoya asks, hesitant to pursue this course of action if there was the slightest possibility you were to end up hurt, and worse—by him.

“Yeah! I’m sure.” You insist. “We won’t have to do much, I just wanted to test this out.”

“Alright, then. What do you want me to do?”

“Just… stand there, first—” you say, carefully gently guiding him into position; it’s almost surprising to see him willingly go along with your ideas, for he was often… dismissive of others. Well, he did say he didn’t find you as annoying as the rest, but was that all there is to it? A part of you hopes not.

While your initial purpose was to find out if Naoya was ticklish, you couldn’t help but get a bit sidetracked by the firmness of his muscles underneath your palms, his intoxicating scent you’ve grown to solely associate with him regardless of where you found it, and why not, the height difference that became even clearer now that you were a few mere inches away from him.

All these things, besides others, inevitably made you wonder how it would feel to be embraced by him, held tight against his chest as he rested his head above yours, professing his affection for you as he swore to never let —

“What are you doing, Y/N?” he asks, cutting through your daydreams.

“Oh—Nothing!” You chirp, scrambling to hide the embarrassment of your cheeks by looking away, to no avail of course, because for an equally smitten man like him, he could be nothing but attentive to you, pondering if he’d done something in this short moment of silence to enact that kind of response from you, or more likely… how adorable you looked, his mind quickly assuming this would be your reaction to when he finally kissed you.

Unless this was caused by someone completely different. He held no proof of this short-lived accusation, but his mind was eager to accept this burning jealousy, loathing the notion that you already belonged to—

“Are you ready, Naoya?” It was your turn to distract him, Naoya blinking as you take position before him.

“Ye—Yes. As ready as I’ll… ever be.”

Going back to your initial purpose, you had to be very careful not to show your cards if you wanted things to go as you wanted.

So, you played along, asking him to do the things you wanted in hope of getting his guard down, which worked, Naoya following your lead, down to the smallest details… until it was finally time for the grand finale, the moment you were eagerly waiting for!

After a few rounds of training and acting like you were still unhappy with your results, you’d find yourself in a position where Naoya’s back faced you, in a completely innocent, unsuspected manner that almost had you feeling bad for misusing his trust: but your curiosity proved to be far greater, much stronger, and when the opportunity presented itself…

You tackle him! Hands quickly landing on his sides to tickle and pinch him as much as you could to earn a reaction from him, which you were joyfully granted, much to your enjoyment and surprise.

“No way, Naoya—you’re actually ticklish?!” you’d giggle, continuing your attack as he began to squirm underneath your hold.

“Y/N—what in the—what are you doing?!” Naoya gasps, confused by your abrupt actions—was this part of your plan all along?! Or did someone—did someone pay you to it?! Is this being recorded??! “Stop it, now!!”

But you didn’t, no matter how red his face got or how much he attempted to pull you away, you simply couldn’t, because his reaction was far better than anything you imagined!

“I would’ve never thought!” you continued, enjoying the fluster on his face which you naturally thought cute, or his laughter… things you’ve never seen on him before that just made your infatuation grow even more.

“Enough!” Managing to regain his strength through your attack and embarrassment, Naoya is finally able to take your hands and pull them away from him, moving you before him to place you in the same position as him.

You don’t need anything else to happen to understand the gravity of your miscalculations, to remember there was a reason why everyone urged you to steer away from provoking Naoya, as tempting as that was, because one way or another, you’d always end up paying the price.

Just as he intended to do so now.

“Let’s see if you like that!”

“No—wait, Naoya—!” and so, he pressed his fingers to your sides, erupting a loud laughter from you which you desperately tried to hold back, whether by pressing your lips together or trying to ease his hold on you, but he’s always been much stronger than you; and whatever struggle you put up he quickly squashed, all for the sake of revenge.

Though that desire would disappear soon after upon hearing your sweet laughter for the first time (so close, that is) alongside your warmth and scent that reminded Naoya why he harbored such strong feelings for you in the first place… never wanting this moment to end, not even when you uttered the following.

“Naoya, stop it! Seriously!!” you laughed. “You’re—you’re going to make me pee!!”

And then, whether because you wanted to highlight your urgency, or simply because it felt right to do so, your face turns around, raising your gaze to his and locking on each other’s eyes—

A simple, quick gesture, but more than enough to make everything stop, your laughter, his smirk, his hands…

In favor realizing the “compromising” position your innocent prank had put the two—the closeness, the… the intimacy!

A fact that has you instinctively pushing away from him, face red (and not from laughing too much, not anymore) as you try to push aside these growing feelings of embarrassment, thinking perhaps it was best to walk away now before this situation grew into a bigger misunderstanding!

Well, fortunately for you, the answer would easily present itself when he said the following statement.

“Y/N—Did you—Did you pee yourself?”

“WHAT?!” You shrieked, Naoya flinches.

Of all things he could’ve said, he just had to go with that one.

“Why—why would you even say that?!”

“I mean—you—"

But you didn’t even prove Naoya a moment to explain himself before you were already out of the training grounds, swiftly making your way across the hallways and back to your dorms, where your startled roommate would worriedly ask if everything was ok, why were you so exalted, and weren’t you supposed to be with Naoya?!

“I just did the most embarrassing thing in the world!” you cried as you plummeted on the bed, pulling the cover over your head as you wished the earth would just swallow you whole! “I made a clown out of myself in front of the boy I like, and I will never, ever be able to take that back!!”

“Y/N, surely you’re exaggerating—” she attempts to comfort you.

“No! You don’t get it!” you gasp back. “I’m never showing my face ever again, ever!”

Your roommate simply sighs, taking a seat by your side and patting your back.

“… Oh, he’ll hate me and make fun of me forever. I just know it!”

Unless… fast forward to a few years, you might be proven wrong.

“You know what I just remembered, Y/N?” Naoya says, looking up from whatever report he was going through that evening.

“What?” you murmur, taking another bite of your endless craving—mochi.

“That one time you tried to tickle me, but it backfired so badly, you ended up peeing.” He smirks, your face instantly turns red.

“What?! I didn’t—I didn’t pee!!” you cried. “That’s not—You and I remember that day very differently!”

“Really?” he snickers. “I remember you avoiding me immediately after, can you blame me for thinking so?”

“That’s—I was just embarrassed for being so close to you!! And to make it all worse, you had to say that! Of all things, seriously! Did you actually think I was going to stay around ???” you fret. “I mean… I genuinely thought you were never going to speak to me again after that.”

“You know it would take much more than that for me to stop talking to you.” Naoya says. “Though it’s quite ironic now, isn’t?”

“What is?”

“You tend to do that quite frequently nowadays.”

You blush.

“Only because I’m pregnant, you idiot!!” you frown, smacking him on the arm, Naoya laughs. “Hey, it’s not funny!”

“But it is true, my love.”

“You’re making it sound like I have some severe bladder issues…” you exclaim. “I’m carrying your baby; in case you’ve forgotten!”

“How could I forget I’m having a family with the love of my life?” he says, moving closer to you to take you into his arms, placing his hands over your growing belly.

“Sweet talk isn’t going to save you, Naoya…” you frown, even when angry, your hands still seek his touch.

“Perhaps not, but maybe… chocolate will?”

“…And?”

“And maybe some diapers too—” he jests, you gasp.

“That’s it, you’re sleeping on the couch!”

“I’m just kidding, princess!” He laughs, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Nothing but an innocent joke.”

“Won’t be so innocent if I ignore you for real this time!”

“Then I guess you won’t be eating those chocolate I got you from that place you love…”

“… those from… Kyoto?”

Naoya nods.

And just like that, the whole ordeal was forgotten immediately after.

Until he finds out something else to tease you with, because just as they said, whatever you unleash on Naoya, he’ll unleash on you, tenfold.

relentless naoya is relentless. he's a total tease, about time I wrote it. Also, DAMN I think I've never written y/n being totally smitten by him??? like pinning after him?? it's either her towards geto or him towards y/n. lmao

anyways, i'm still in that fluffy domestic mood, and this was the perfect opportunity to show that. akgasgasjiga I mean, it's cute right??? I like it. y/n being spoiled by naoya........ though he's a bit cruel sometimes.... haha. aw, I love them.

Well, I hope you enjoyed this!! Thank you so much for your patience!! 🥺💖 I really did enjoy writing this, as I always do with all the things y'all send me.

Take care, and hope to see you soon!!!

Edit: omg I never really answered your question, but yesssss I do think he was ticklish. But let's be real, who is going to know that?????? You'd probably come to find that one out when hugging him and sensing him tense up. :) for a variety of reasons. Hehe

[yumeka-sxf]

Today's new chapter was so intriguing 👀

First off, nice to see the Authens again. Guess we're sure now that Endo will make them reoccurring characters! Yor's embarrassment about being called "Mom" ("okaa-san" in the JP version) was really cute.

They managed to translate this joke very well; in the JP version, the word "ebento"(event) makes Sigmund think of "obento"(lunchbox). Using the word "function" for "luncheon" was clever!

But the main highlight of this chapter for me was seeing the ever enigmatic Melinda again after so long!

She's a really a tough one to figure out, and this chapter only brought up more questions than answers. She seems extremely nice here, being very forgiving of Millie despite her harsh accusations against her husband. She also mentions that she'd be very resentful if anything were to happen to her family...which is kind of contrasting to her thoughts about Damian from the end of the bus hijacking arc.

I also loved the scene of Yor sticking up for Millie. Her expression was so blank yet so deep at the same time. It actually reminded me of Anya's expression when she punched Damian - in both cases, their blank expression doesn't match their action, but it makes sense because they're still unsure of how to act and what emotion to portray in many seemingly "normal" situations. Anger and annoyance aren't feelings that come naturally to them.

In Yor's case here, having to defend someone against such accusations isn't something she's had much experience doing (at least not for someone who isn't family), and at the same time she can't just outright kill the hostile party like she would on an assassination mission. So despite being in such an awkward situation, especially for someone like her who struggles with social interactions, she managed to remain remarkably calm. As usual, Yor gets easily flustered when it comes to her own feelings, but if she sees someone else being threatened, her capabilities shoot up to maximum! That unpredictable expression should be feared from both her and Twilight!

We also learn that Yor lost her parents in the war, which is something I always suspected. Her words in the below panel reminded me a lot of the thoughts she had during the end of the cruise arc. As I've mentioned before, despite her naivety about many things, she understands the tragedies that go on in the world, especially in terms of war - that it's not just soldiers who suffer, but the children and everyone else left behind. It makes sense that someone who understands that kind of loss and hardship has such outpouring empathy to others the way Yor does...

...which is actually contrasting to the way Millie deals with her loss, by lashing out at others. It's said that those who have suffered can become either very sympathetic or very resentful. It was interesting to see that subtle contrast between Yor and Millie here.

Speaking of Millie, it was nice to see her get some redemption and backstory. Like Camilla, I still don't think this makes up for all the mean things she's said to Yor before, but it's something!

Good to see McMahon again after so long. Don't think he's made an appearance since the cruise arc 👀

As usual, it's hard to say if this chapter is leading to a new arc or not. I'm sure things mentioned here, especially about Melinda, will come back later, but who knows if it will be right away or several chapters from now. I know we were all expecting something relating to Anya's backstory based on the previous short mission, but I still think there's a chance that what happened here could tie into that. We'll see! We're close to chapter 100 so I wonder if Endo is planning something special for that 🤔

[lennadanvers]

Tsar Bomba*

Johnny Soap MacTavish x Reader

A/N: This is just angst. I wrote it quite some time ago, but I guess it's time I post it. I'm not sure if I really like it, but at least it has a cool name lol. It may or may not have a part 2. The ending I have in mind is not happy, either way. Other than that, I guess the only TWs are mention of past trauma, mentions of a narcissistic father, past narcissistic abuse, and just Johnny fucking up. If I missed anything, please let me know and I'll add it.

*Tsar Bomba: Soviet thermonuclear bomb that was detonated in a test over Novaya Zemlya island in the Arctic Ocean on October 30, 1961. The largest nuclear weapon ever set off, it produced the most powerful human-made explosion ever recorded. (Amy Tikkanen, Encyclopaedia Britannica, 2024)

Soap is an asshole. A complete and utter idiot, with zero regards for other people and their feelings. A stupid pile of scottish-

“Aren’t you gonna go after’er?”

When Ghost is giving you relationship advice, you know it’s bad. Not like Johnny didn’t know that before Simon asked one of the most useless questions he’s heard. Which is to say something, because even he's asking himself that same question.

Am I not gonna run after her?

Of course, the question doesn’t come alone. It implies many others, each of them a punch to the guts.

Should I? Does she want me to? Would it change anything? Do I deserve to drag this any longer? Why would she want me to be with her? Is she even capable of forgiving me? Am I? How could I do it? Why am I so stubborn? Why couldn’t I just do as she said just this once?

Truth be told, most of the questions are accusations. Guilt. Johnny doesn’t fight them. On the contrary, he sides with the feeling in an absurd display of a split personality. One part of him punches, kicks and bites (sadly, in his head he doesn’t carry any guns… Which is, now that he thinks about it, okay, because he deserves a very long suffering); and the other bares the weakest parts of him: neck, belly, the way he’s always known he doesn’t deserve the love he needs… Both versions of him have red cheeks and wet eyelashes.

For the first time since he’s met you- but not the first in his life- Soap thinks he should die. The same way he knows any object he lets go of will fall to the ground, he should die. It’s the next logical step: he let go of you- more like threw your heart to the floor, the thought makes him flinch-, so now it comes the end. You ran out the door, and now…

Now you’re coming right back.

You’re stomping in his direction. You’re blushing, dark red cheeks and nose that he usually finds beautiful, but that right now look awful. Because it’s rage red, hurt red, indignation red;and it’s all directed to him. All provoked by him. Stupid, idiotic him. Asshole him.

Maybe it’ll help you, to yell exactly that at Soap. Even better, you’ll do it in front of Simon. His closest friend, his coworker, his superior… He deserves the humiliation. You deserve to inflict it. You deserve everything.

You stop where it’ll be clear you’re yelling at him, but not close enough for him to touch you- he wouldn’t dare, either way. Except you don’t yell. You just take a deep breath and clench your fists.

“I fucking told you, Soap.”, your voice is shaking, and so are you. And him, now that you didn’t call him Johnny, “I told you to not do that. I told you why I… Why he… I told you!”

You had told him. Twice. He even had asked about it the second time. “I don’t have a relationship with him. I haven’t spoken to him since I was in high school. I moved away as soon as I could, and I’m happy I did. He’s not in my life anymore”. You were so proud when you said that, that there wasn’t a place in your life for your father.

You give Simon a quick glance, and the man stares back at you. He’s not going to pretend he hasn’t been present for the whole interaction. He’s not going to pretend he isn’t listening to you. It clearly makes you uncomfortable, but Johnny is willing to let you know that Ghost will probably kick his ass after this- maybe it’ll help a little with the awkwardness.

Your voice sounds more like a growl when you keep talking.

“I said I never want to see him again! Why would you do that?! Why did you…! He knows where I live! He went to my fucking job, MacTavish!”

Your lips trembles. You’re breaking a little, and he doesn’t know what it is. Pain? Fury? Frustration? Betrayal? Fear? Whatever it is, you make it disappear with another deep breath.

Johnny is terrified. One deep breath and your whole face relaxed. Your eyes don’t look like they’re about to flood your cheeks anymore. It’s a mask that says nothing. You’ve closed off.

It’s a stab to his spine. He knows you used to do this. You used to cry in the bathroom, quietly, and come out like nothing happened. You used to not be able to let him know how you felt. It took you years to cry in front of him for the first time. To trust him. To learn that he was safe.

And he violated your trust.

“This is over. We are over. I warned you! You knew not to do this, the only thing I… I don’t… If you wanted to do it you should have said so, that way I wouldn’t have wasted… You had no fucking right, Soap! I fucking told you I hate him. He went to my apartment! He was there! Why would you…? You had no right!”

He opens his mouth. Doesn’t know what to say, though. Or, actually, he doesn’t know what he can say. Sorry? Not nearly enough. Not even a fraction of what he feels, and even less than a portion of what you deserve. Soap knows the only thing that would fix this, he can’t do: not having done it in the first place. Not tracking your father down. Not asking him to meet up. Not thinking he wasn’t that bad. Not telling him how good you’re doing, despite how proud Johnny was of you. He should have never asked him for his blessing to marry you.

But you don’t want to hear his silence any longer.

“Don’t! I don’t want to see you ever again. I hope you’re happy. You know him now, congratulations! Now you know everything. I bet he was so fucking nice with you. I bet he said he was so proud of me, even if I never treated him right, didn’t he?”

No, Soap is every opposite of happy. Yes, he said that. Yes, at the time he thought your father was nice. He wants to stab himself in the heart for thinking that. He knows that man was an awful parent to you- hell, he wasn’t even a parent.

But that was his mistake, wasn’t it? For Johnny MacTavish, family is the most important thing. Without family, nothing else is worth it. And seeing you celebrate birthdays and holidays only with friends, knowing your family was out there, far from you… He didn’t want that to happen in your wedding, too.

Key words: he and wedding. First mistake: it wasn’t about him. Fucking selfish asshole. Second mistake (this one was more of an idiotic fantasy that he didn’t deserve): wedding. Yes, maybe his father had asked his mother’s dad for her hand before proposing. And? Those were Johnny’s parents. Why in hell would you want him to ask someone else if it was okay for you to marry him?

“He does that! I’m not crazy... He’s- he's nice to other people! He’s manipulating you. And I’m not going to have that narcissistic bastard in my life. You and him can stay the fuck away from me! Even if you didn’t love me, there was no need to do it.”

Don’t love you? Soap wants to cry- his body is just frozen in place. He is a miserable person. All he does is love you. How did he manage to make you think otherwise? To make you feel otherwise? How did he dare do the only thing- the worst thing…?

Your head snaps violently in Simon’s direction, and Soap can almost see him bracing himself for what’s about to come. Which is an unnaturally calm and controlled voice.

“I’m sorry you had to see this, Simon. And I’m so sorry you have a friend who doesn’t understand boundaries or respect, at the very fucking least. I’ll put his stuff in a bag, and I’ll leave it with the doorman, in case you want to go get it for him. I’m sorry you got involved in this, I… I’m so sorry.”

There you are, apologizing again. Johnny was working on that with you. He had been for the past couple of years. But you’re doing it again, even though it is not your fault. It never is, and you’re always sorry, and he wishes he was dirt so at least you could step on him without feeling guilty. And he wants to rip his own heart out and hand it to you. He wants to use his stupid nails to scratch his stupid chest open, his stupid hands to break his fucking ribs and any other bone he can find in the way. He wants to crack his head open against the wall. He wants… It doesn’t matter what he wants.

Because you’re leaving.

You’re leaving, and you’re not crying. You’re so hurt that all the effort you did to open up, all these years working on learning how to be vulnerable, just disappeared. You’re back to the place you were when he met you. Except it’s worse now.

He made a mess. Johnny fucked you up.

For the millionth time today, he wants to die.

[armpirate]

Disturbs on the 3rd floor (Part 2) | Jungkook

Part 1

pairing: Boxer!JK x fem!reader || Neighbors, enemies to lovers

w.c.: 5.2k

Warnings: Illegal boxing, violence, blood, blood licking, smut, male and female masturbation, oral sex (female and male receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talk.

Summary: You tried to avoid him as much as possible after the last time you saw each other. Although you two ended up meeting at the least expected place.

Aprox. time of reading: 23 minutes

The loud screams that came from the editor's office made your heads turn towards the closed door, seeing through the shades that covered the windows how he exaggeratedly gesticulated with every single word he dropped, while one of your colleagues just kept his eyes fixed on the floor. 

It had been a long morning. It seemed like it'd never end. 

Usually, you all would fight to get the best reportage or get the most juicy news for the newspaper. But that day it was like the universe didn't want either of you fighting over anything, done with the complaints of favoritism, before a chain of big events dropped in a span of a few days. 

Elections, manifestations, World Guinness Records, a celeb's scandal... And somehow, you still managed to get the article that would make no one move. Covering up illegal fights was not only dangerous, but also something that people would read through with the least interest. "Oh, wow, some people are doing something that doesn't affect me at all. Let me pretend to be concerned about it, before I jump to the sports section". It was always like that with that type of article, and you knew it'd be a waste of energy and time. 

Either way, you still managed to get one of your sources to tell you the place where the fights would take place that week. And you'd go there as soon as your shift ended. It wasn't like you needed any big tools, or cameras, you'd do fine with your phone and your own eyes. 

You were already warned that it was a dangerous place, where there were all types of men, except good guys. Boxers went from street fighters to owners of gyms to gain investments from the rich men and gangsters that showed up there for fun, and the fights were almost lethal -always leaving one of the fighters unconscious or close to death. And that made you wonder if it was actually worth it for them to risk their lives and healths, just to entertain the big guys in the city. 

You gulped when you saw there wasn't a lot of control to get inside. You guessed it was because not that many people would know about it, nor would be interested enough in it to get to the other side of the bridge just to see a few guys fighting. The fair amount of people that went there knew what they'd come across to, and knew it was either to bet money or to fight. There was no other choice. 

The smell was heavy. It wasn't like it was putrid, but you could tell apart the wetness coming from the cement of the old building. Suddenly, it felt uncomfortable walking around there, getting through some of the people that were surrounding the improvised boxing ring. But you still did it. Hiding your phone on your sleeve, enough to let your camera film everything that was going on, you also made sure to hide your face with the hood of your jacket. 

You kept walking through the people cheering for the two fighters to split each other's faces in half, making your way to the side of the place, feeling ready to breathe again as you stepped back from the crowd. Although your heart raced fast, as if it had received an electric shock, when you felt your hood being pulled back, discovering your head. 

"Hope you know you can't record here" a thick voice warned at your back. 

You were ready to reply to that accusation, hiding your phone deeper in your sleeve, as you turned on your tracks. Looking confused when you saw him in front of you. 

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jungkook spoke first, face slowly going distraught.

"I could say the right same thing" you replied back, moving away from his grip. 

Jungkook sighed, looking away for a mini second before his eyes were back on you. Having to be there was bad enough, but having to see you there wasn't making things any better. His mind filled with the different ways he wanted to rail you whenever you came across each other in the elevator or in the corridor. You would only be a distraction if you stayed there. He didn't really want to know why you were there, and how you got to know about it all, he just wanted you to leave for his own sake. 

"Are you a cop?" he asked.

"It's not your business" you replied back.

He sighed exasperated, seeing how that conversation would take them nowhere. She wasn't going to give away her reason, so there was no point in arguing with her about it. 

"If you're smart, which after these weeks I doubt" he added, referencing the several encounters you've had ever since he moved in ", leave and delete whatever it is you've filmed. You don't wanna deal with the people here". 

"Jungkook, you're next" a tall man told him. 

He gave a quick look at Max, eyes dropping to you quickly before his lips twisted, and he tilted his head. "Do whatever the fuck you want".

Those were the last words he dedicated to you, before he walked past your body and disappeared among the crowd. It wasn't like you had much of a choice when it came to what you wanted to do. 

It was your job. And while you could've written some paragraphs describing what you saw, your perfectionist side would never forgive you for it, knowing you could top the final result by adding more to the story. 

The crowd was suddenly more invested in the upcoming fight, hearing the chants and growls as the two fighters were presented. Rodric "The Bully" Hatcher, and the Doberman of Busan. You rolled your eyes at them, going back at aiming the phone towards the ring's direction -while still doing your best at hiding it under your sleeve. 

If you thought you'd be able to get through the whole thing without flinching, you were wrong. Your body kept moving, surprised with every hit thrown, suddenly worried by the way the other boxers were attacking Jungkook like he owed his life to him. 

Soon, half of his face would be covered in blood that spilled down from his eyebrow and his broken lip. Jungkook fell a few times to the ground, always standing up after two or three seconds, that was what took him to regain some strength back. He only managed to fit some punches towards his blond opponent, but checking on you got him more distracted than he'd be in any other circumstance. 

Why the hell were you there exactly that day? 

His body fell flat on the ground when his head turned in your direction, seeing Jimmy -one of the men looking after the place-, grabbing you by the elbow and causing you to raise your voice over the several chants that were favoring Rodric at that point. 

The blond smiled, getting ready to give the final punch as he walked towards his body. Jungkook tried to stand up, or at least roll on the ground by himself, but his body seemed to reach a limit that night. Most parts of his body felt numb, only being aware of Rodric making him lie on his back. 

The devil seemed to be on his side that day though, seeing everyone panicking around him when the place was suddenly lighted by blue and red lights, along with several cops telling everyone to stay still in their places. 

His back collided against the ground again, when Rodric let go of him, not without promising the next time he wouldn't be as lucky. He didn't expect the night to end as bad when he received the text for the fight, but there he was: lying on the ground and getting ready to be arrested and taken to the police station. 

Someone did pull his body up, hooking their arms under his armpits until they were standing. "We need to leave" that female voice...

Jungkook managed to open his plump eyes, looking down to see you dragging him to the nearest exit. He for sure didn't know how you made it to get rid of Jimmy -although he guessed once the cops showed up, you were the least of his problems-, or how you dodged the cops. But he was glad you did. 

While he looked conscious from the outside, it actually seemed like his body was moving automatically, following your guidance and doing what felt right. He wasn't even aware of how fast you drove from the center to your house until you dropped his body over your couch abruptly, making him moan while he closed his eyes. 

You could've left him on his doorstep until he regained some consciousness back, and you'd be lying if you had said you didn't feel tempted to, but you still allowed him to step inside your place. 

Moving your fingers carefully over his arm, you started removing the bandage that were covering his hands, setting him free from the tight knots until he spoke. "I can do that myself".

"Fine" you dropped his hand hard over his thigh, getting a low groan from him "Do it yourself".

Although you were annoyed, you still moved around your place, trying to get the few things you had to cure the wounds on his face. You looked after him, but it didn't mean you didn't use it to your advantage either. He hissed, squirmed and moved his head away every time you pressed hard on the places you wanted to heal, finding some joy in his pissed off expression. You also handed him some ice cubes covered in a rag, ignoring his stretched hand to press directly on the wound on his eyebrow until you saw him holding it. 

He looked around your place, finding the similarities in structure, but seeing it completely different from his own place. Your house seemed cozy, ready to bring calmness to anyone who stepped inside. Your furniture was also black and white, but the different accessories over them created a huge change. Like the thick purple blanket that was over the backrest of your couch on his side, or the big world map that was over his head. You even had pictures displayed over the cabinet next to your door, and a jar filled with bright pink flowers. 

Just like he expected, your house was as feminine and delicate as you seemed. 

His head moved in your direction again when he heard you hissing and huffing. You looked at the broken screen, cursing at that man who dropped your phone against the floor when he caught you. At least you'd be able to use the videos and pictures it took you so long to get, but you'd have to repair the screen or get a new phone. And both options were too expensive to think about lightly. 

"Look at what you did" Jungkook frowned at your accusation.

"Me? I already told you not to film there".

"If you hadn't reached out to me, and shouted how I should stop filming, no one else would've noticed" you dropped the phone over the coffee table. 

"Sure, because you were so good at pretending you were doing nothing suspicious..." he squinted his eyes. "Who else would've thought this" Jungkook lifted his right hand at the level of his chest, in the most unnatural posture ever "was suspicious if it hadn't been for me". 

Jungkook dropped the rag over the couch, finally standing up to confront you. 

"I'm the one who should be mad. Look at my face" he pointed at it with his two index "If you had stopped recording when I told you, I would've been able to focus on my fight". 

"I didn't ask you to focus on me" you replied back. "Oh, also..."

Jungkook looked confused when you crossed your living room, opening one of the drawers of the furniture next to your table and seeing you walking back to him. 

"I also didn't ask for your eighty dollars" you handed him the money.

"It was my fault you got stuck outside".

"It wasn't, I should've checked first" she sighed "I don't want your money, and you didn't need to make up for shit" you left the money in front of him at the coffee table. 

"But you still blamed me for your broken phone" he replied.

You sighed, looking down at your phone when you realized the argument with Jungkook would take you nowhere. It didn't matter if you had to buy a new phone, because you'd probably be able to opt for better articles and more recognition after you posted your reportage. The screen suddenly went dark before you could even enter the gallery, going completely useless although the battery was at fifty per cent still. 

"No" you whined "No, no, no, no, no".

Not like it would change a thing, but you let out your desperation, while moving your thumb over the screen, trying to get a reaction. You gasped, and cracked a whine, dropping the phone from your hands when you felt your fingerprint being sliced.

It wasn't a deep cut, you definitely wouldn't lose your finger. It was more the type of cut you get with a sheet of paper, but it still was bothersome and some blood started to leak. 

You didn't know when Jungkook stood up from the couch and walked over to you, but you heard his sigh over you, before he took your wrist and looked at the tiny and thin wound. You'd expect him to do anything, but your body froze when he raised your hand a bit more and wrapped his lips around your finger.

The tiniest bit of pain disappeared, because all your senses were too focused on the way his warm mouth felt around your finger, and how his slick tongue moved around softly. Your cheeks started to burn when his eyes sunken in yours, as if he were trying to read your thoughts. Not like they were too complicated to guess them though, your mind was filled with him. 

"Don't you know how dangerous it is to do that?" you tried to break off the moment.

Jungkook let go of your finger with a loud pop sound, smirking at you "What are you talking about now?".

"Licking someone you don't know's blood. I could be sick and...".

"Are you sick?" he raised his eyebrow.

"No" and you clearly weren't concerned about the consequences of what he did. You were more concerned over the effects he was having on you with that simple action.

"Then what are you so worried about?" he rolled his eyes.

"I'm just trying to let you know that..." he interrupted you again.

"Fine" he nodded. "I'll lick something else instead".

While you were still trying to process what he meant, Jungkook pulled you by the neck, sucking onto your lower lip. You'd have wanted to push him away, but you knew you'd be banging yourself against the wall if you did, his lips felt way too good and spongy to let go of them. You lost yourself in the kiss as soon as his tongue sneaked in your mouth and your teeth slightly crashed against one another for less than a mini second. Too long gone to care how sloppy the kiss was, or how messy, your mind was only craving for his hands never leaving your body. 

Your heart shook in your chest when he gave you a second to breathe, before he pulled you back, grabbing your jaw tight.

You had only been kissing, but you swore you had never been more ready to be pinned against a bed and fucked until you forgot your own name. 

While Jungkook thought he had control over you by your neck, you sneaked your hand under his tank top, instantly making him groan when your cold hands got in contact with his warm skin. A metallic taste appeared on your tongue, and you weren't sure if the blood you were tasting was his or the remaining taste of your own, but it only encouraged you to move your hands lower on his torso, reaching down for his shorts. 

When you palmed him over the fabric, you could feel the shape of his growing bulge, nipples tightening under your bra just with the thought of how he'd look completely naked. And it seemed like he had the same doubt, because soon you stopped feeling his hand on your throat, to feel him unzipping your jeans and slipping them down. 

"Let me see those tits" he asked you, while you were kicking your pants away. 

Your rational size would've stopped you right then, but only you knew how bad you had been hoping for this ever since you met him for the first time. You allowed your mind to run wild every time you ran into each other. 

The ten seconds you were in the elevator were a fucking nightmare. 

His palm cupped your clothed pussy, groaning when he felt how wet and sticky your underwear was as he moved his fingers through your slit. Jungkook only moved his hand away when you folded your gray t-shirt over your breasts, exposing your black bra -that he didn't take long to move down, perked nipples almost begging for him to take them in his mouth. His mouth took one in, letting it get harder in his warmness, feeling how goof the hard tip fought against his flat tongue, before he let go of it with a loud sound and moved onto the other. 

Your fingers sinked in his hair, encouraging him to keep going, before you spit on your hand and moved back to the inside of his pants. His groan vibrated through your chest when you wrapped your fingers around him, quietly moving them up and down, feeling how thick and hard he was getting against your palm. 

"I really need to fuck you" he groaned, biting on your chest before he was towering over you again "I really, really need it".

You stood on your tiptoes, while your hands let go of him. Your lips rubbed against his, while your hands played with the elastic of your panties "Do it".

As you allowed those two words to fly in the air, you slipped your panties down your legs, kicking them away again. As if you had finally allowed him to set himself free, he lifted your body, having you instantly wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Put it in, angel" he asked you, holding you up in the air.

Redirecting his face by his nape, you linked your lips together, while your other hand managed to rub his tip on your entrance, having you two breaking the kiss and looking down when it was finally inside you. Jungkook moved you down his shaft, until your hips met and you felt him deep in your core. 

You helped him make those movements on you easier, bouncing your body up and down slowly, enjoying the way every inch felt when it was about to leave you, but suddenly hit against you again. You also knew your legs would feel sore as ever before, but it was totally worth it just by the look on his face whenever you squeezed him. His eyebrows suddenly frowned and his lips puckered, growling while he allowed you to work on his dick. 

He knew your hips were a menace whenever he took too long looking over the peephole of his door after he had to control himself, and not fuck you in the middle of the aisle, but he didn't know your whole body would be as dangerous -especially your eyes. You trapped him, and he knew it'd be over the second he made eye contact with you for longer than five seconds. 

Jungkook stopped your movements, lifting your body a bit more to hook your legs with his arms, blocking you to move again, just to be able to pound into you at his own pace, dick drilling in your core, trying different angles until he saw your eyes going blank and your grip on his shoulders got tighter. 

"How does it feel?" he groaned, smirking when all he was able to get from you was babbling "Look at you, you can't even say a word with how much you like talking".

You hugged him tight, trying to find something stable when you felt your blood started to heat up, slowly boiling as if you were ready to combust at any given time. He fucked you through your high, slowing his movements until he stopped completely.

"You look so hot when you cum" he hummed, kissing the middle of your throat.

Your lips were linked together again, moving slowly on each other, while Jungkook made his way intuitively to your bedroom. 

"Do you want to know when I look even hotter?" you whispered in his ear.

His eyes perked with curiosity, before you motioned him to leave you back on the ground. 

As you sat at the edge of the bed, he helped you take off your t-shirt and bra. Your fingers hooked on his shorts, pulling them down, while you bent over, licking his tip. Although it wasn't until you wrapped your lips around it, that you were able to taste you two mixed together. Your juices with his precum, and you found yourself more turned on about it than you should. 

The weight of his hand on the back of your head, and how his fingers tangled on your hair, got you looking up at him. The movements of your mouth got slower down his shaft, making sure he'd see how it disappeared through your lips.

"You do look hotter like this" he nodded, grinding his hips against your face. 

If there was something you disliked about sex, it was giving head. Usually, it was something you just did because the moment asked for it. But with Jungkook it felt different. Seeing the expression on his face, hearing the sounds that came from his mouth, the way he encouraged you to go on by softly caressing your scalp... You swore you could do that for hours if you were able to. 

He made you feel powerful and sexy.

Jungkook stopped your movements as soon as you increased the speed, moving your head back slightly. He smiled at your confused look, finding endearing how out of place you looked until he bent over.

"My turn" he whispered. "Lay on the bed" he pointed at the middle of the mattress, before he started taking off his tank top. 

You dragged your body over that spot, feeling the sheets wrinkling under you. He stood in front of you, completely naked, and seeing your perspective from your spread legs got you leaking for him again. 

"You're aware these walls are really thin, right?" he joined you on the bed, kneeling in front of you. 

Of course you know. If those walls weren't as thin, you two probably wouldn't have met each other the way you did.

"And I can hear absolutely everything" you frowned, confused of where he was taking the conversation, feeling his hands tracing the curves of your knees. "Especially when you touch yourself" he continued.

In any other circumstance, you probably would've been embarrassed by that comment. But that day, it only made your skin burn a bit more, waiting eagerly for him.

"That's why I want to show you I can do it better" he tilted his head, sliding his thumb through your slit. "Make your legs tremble, your ears ring and your throat hurt".

You held your breath when you felt his lips ghosting your soaked lips, the warm air coming from his mouth getting you ready for what was to come, when he lifted his eyes and looked straight at you. "I won't move from here until you make a mess on my face"

What he said, and the way he said it would sound like a promise, but it was more a fact. He dropped those words before he sank his lips in your pussy, taking you with an open-mouthed kiss that got you squirming in surprise. It was as if he wanted to get as much from you as he was able to, moving his lips on every corner that was left to discover by him. 

The tip of his tongue felt so delicate compared to his mouth, moving over your slit, from your entrance to your clit slowly -as if he were tasting every drop of arousal in your core-, before he was wrapping his mouth around the bundle of nerves and pulling from it. You soon were grinding your pelvis against his mouth and arching your back -feeling it would crumble at any point. But he took it as an invitation to lift his arm, fondling your breasts until his fingers found your hard nipple again. 

You weren't able to hold his gaze when he finally opened his eyes, your shut eyes and uncontrollable moans made you throw your head back, holding onto the wrist of the hand on your chest, while your other hand sank in his hair, assuring yourself that he wouldn't leave that spot when you were so close. 

Jungkook stopped twirling his tongue around your clit, torturing your button, to move back down to your entrance, forcing a needy moan come from you when he slid the muscle through your walls. 

It was as if your body didn't belong to you anymore the second he started twisting his tongue up and down, while his nose rubbed against your clit. You were too far gone to care about how loud you were, how messy you looked or how desperate you acted. Your brain was only able to process the wave of pleasure that fell heavy on you with the last move he made. 

You lost sense of how much time you spent with your eyes closed, trying to gain some oxygen back. But when you opened them, you found Jungkook staring into you. You knew he wasn't done with you, and you thanked god he wasn't while you were aware of the way half of his face was shining down the light of your lamp. 

Supporting your weight on your elbows, you motioned to the empty spot next to you. "My ears didn't ring".

Jungkook chuckled at that comment, lying in the spot you pointed to. His cock twitched in excitement when you got on top of him, straddling his hips. You didn't bother to tease him, or dragging it out, you both had been playing around long enough to keep waiting for it. 

You two gasped in sync as you slowly moved your hips down his length, taking him inch by inch again. Keeping that pace for a bit longer, you enjoyed the desperate subtle look on his face, and the way his hands moved on your thighs to get you to go faster. 

Jungkook got absorbed by the way your body looked the moment you started speeding it up. Maybe he was too high on sex, but he was sure you felt like the perfect match for him. Your bodies clapped together with every bounce you made, as if it was a piece fitting perfectly with another. He wasn't even able to control his own moans when you started moving back and forwards, making his cock twitch inside you with the way you kept clenching around him tight. 

You cried out loud when your clit kept rubbing against his skin, creating the perfect friction while he fought himself to keep him from pounding into you. 

A loud and sharp sound, was followed by a pleasant burning pain on your ass cheek, before he sank his fingertips on your skin -so hard that you were sure there would be marks on that same spot the next day. 

Your grip on his wrists and he held your hips got tighter by the second, with your head instantly falling back before your eyes were on him again. His honey skin was covered with a thin coat of sweat, his messy short hair was covering his forehead, and by his expression you knew he was as close as you were. 

"Are you cumming with me?" you asked, cracking your voice when he spanked you again. 

"Fuck, yes" he growled.

One more sway of your hips, one more twitch of his cock and you were both done and ruined. His warm load spilled down your walls, leaking out when he pulled his cock out and rested his head on your pillow. 

Your body fell flat next to his, shaky breathing fighting to go back to normal as you stared at the ceiling. It was all calm and silent, that you allowed yourself to close your eyes, trying to remember the way it felt like your hairs would leave your skin by the way they raised through your orgasm. 

All that peace lasted a few minutes only, because soon you felt the mattress moving and you heard his steps over the room. When you opened your eyes, you found him with his boxers on, and his clothes piled in his hand. 

You weren't sure what you expected, or whether you actually wanted him to stay or not, but you were confused at how fast he was getting ready to leave. Standing up, and covering your body with a pink satin dressing gown, you were ready to confront him. 

"You're leaving?" 

"Yeah" he answered as if it was the most normal answer.

And probably it was. He lived next to you, there was no need for him to spend the night there. But something in the way he acted rubbed you the wrong way, having you placing your hands on your hips. 

It wasn't like you'd have wanted him to sleep next to you either. Maybe it was your hurt pride speaking through you, calling you because you were the one supposed to kick him out, not the one being stood up in your own place. 

"And that's it?" for a brief moment, Jungkook looked confused at your question. What else was he supposed to say or do?

"Yeah. I got what I wanted, you got what you wanted. We're done" he nodded. "You didn't expect us to cuddle and giggle like dumbasses, did you?"

No, but you didn't discard that idea either. Somewhere in the back of your brain, while you had your eyes closed, you hoped he'd wrap his arms around you and pull you in for a hug. Although maybe that was your loneliness projecting a bit too much. 

"No, but this isn't it either" you called him out. 

"Well, it seems like a you problem" he shrugged. "I didn't do anything to give you hope for a relationship".

"Hold it back there, who the fuck talked about a relationship? I'm just talking about human decency, which seems to be a bit too much to ask for a dog like you" you grimaced at your own words. "No, sorry. I didn't mean to insult dogs".

"You're so bitter, it’s kinda cute" he scoffed. "You don't need to hide it. It's fine".

"I'm not hiding anything".

Clicking your tongue, you pushed him out of your bedroom. Hurrying to the coffee table, you got his money and put it over his dark tank top, before you pointed towards the door. "Hope the door kicks you in the balls when you exit".

Although you both ended up arguing, something about that night felt weird. 

This one-shot will NOT have a Part 3, since it will be part of a longer fanfic that will be posted after I'm done with Under His Skin

[onceonafullmoon]

Guessing Game

Rin x GN!Reader

Warning: slight possesive behavior from Rin, not severe but enough to note. Reader is GN but is noted to wear stockings. Reader is a foreigner in Japan. fun fact this was just a mess of dialogue I daydreamed before I actually decided to refine it, maladaptive daydreaming come through 💪🏽💪🏽!!

“…because…stockings are… out of fashion?” You question more than answer before lighting up at your new idea. “Oh that’s why! My fashion choices suck!” He looked distinctly like he wanted to bash his head into the wall, and even with the way he was avoiding answering you, you couldn’t help but feel sympathetic.

“You can’t come to my games.” Rin says abruptly, causing you to pause, your ramblings of all the things you wanted to do now that you’re back in Japan cut off.

“What?” You ask before sitting up on the couch, straightening up to look at him. “Why?”

“You—” He cuts himself off, seemingly trying to find the right words. 

“You’re too distracting.” He eventually settles on, hands fiddling with each other in an uncharacteristic show of nerves that has you furrowing your brows.

“As if!” You scoff. “ How?”

He stares at you, trying to gauge if you’re serious or not. 

“…You seriously don’t know?” He asks after a  bit.

“Oh come on, I mean I’m annoying, but I’m not that annoying, like I’d at least have common decency to shut up during a game.” You say, knowing of your penchant to ramble.

“That’s not why.”

“Oh, then it’s ‘cause I’m a foreigner? I’m sure that’s a little distracting, but too distracting either. I mean, even the most xenophobic person there would stare like… I dunno, 5 minutes before getting over it.” You say, remembering the looks you got when you first moved in middle school.

“No— that’s not it either.” He says, looking more and more put out as you continue.

“Shit, is it my mannerisms then? Like, do I come off as an asshole or something? Or like, a weirdo? I mean, I am pretty weird, but I don’t think that’s obvious at first glance so…”

“‘You ever think it’s because of your looks?” He asks finally, his impatience reaching an all time high.

“Pfft— okay sure, I’m not that ugly.” You laugh, looking at him, only to stop laughing when you see a deadpan look on his face.

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Oh my god, am I?!” You gasp, looking scandalized.

“I didn’t think I was like a model or anything, but I didn’t think I was below average in the looks department either…” You start to ramble, feeling a pit form in your stomach. “I mean Jesus, I know the beauty standards here are harsh, but I didn’t know they were this harsh.”

“Who the fuck told you that you were ugly?” Rin finally asks, his expression equal parts annoyed, angry and confused.

“No one!” You protest, before pointing an accusing finger at him. “It’s just cuz I was joking and saying “I’m not that ugly am I?” And then you gave me your patented ‘(Name) are you an idiot?’ stare, so I just assumed you meant that I was… now that I think about it you probably meant that I was an idiot for thinking that was the reason…”

“You are an idiot.” He sighs, relaxing slightly into the couch with the knowledge that he doesn’t have to fist fight someone. 

(And he would, if it was for you.)

“So that’s the reason? Cause I also feel that’s not obvious at first glance, but I do space out sometimes…” You trail off before looking at him, rolling your eyes as you see his exasperated face. 

“Why are you face palming?” You pout. “If you would just answer my question instead of making me play a guessing game we wouldn’t be in this situation!”

“(Name)...” He says, finally deciding to give you a hint. “...why do you think everyone was looking at you the day you wore stockings?”

“…because…stockings are… out of fashion?” You question more than answer before lighting up at your new idea. “Oh that’s why! My fashion choices suck!”

He looked distinctly like he wanted to bash his head into the wall, and even with the way he was avoiding answering you, you couldn’t help but feel sympathetic.

“…because my fashion choices are good?”

“No, god damn it (Name), it’s because you’re pretty!” Rin finally snaps.

“…”

“…”

You stare at each other unblinkingly for a few moments, you blank faced, and him growing more and more flustered.

“…for real?” You ask, somewhat flabbergasted, before shaking your head. “Wait, no, you’re joking, okay good one, now tell me the real reason.”

“Why would I lie about something so embarrassing?” Rin says, despite not wanting to admit it.

“Okay, so I’m supposedly really pretty, but I haven’t gotten any valentines?” 

“…of course you did.”

“Yeah exactly so— wait I did? And more importantly how do you know and not me?” You ask, raising a brow in response.

“…” He averts his eyes, not wanting to answer.

“So, you’re lying?”

“No, I— I threw them away.” He admits, looking more sheepish than you’ve ever seen him.

“What?! Why? I know you reject everyone, but that doesn’t mean I have to.” You frown, despite knowing you wouldn’t have accepted any of their confessions.

“That’s the problem.” He begrudgingly says.

“Huh?”

“That you don’t have to reject everyone.”

“…” 

You stare at him, trying to comprehend his words.

“…forget it, I said too much. I should go.” Rin says, moving to get off the couch, but you pull him back with your hands grasping his.

“Wait a minute, you— you like me?!” You gasp out, looking at him with widened eyes.

“Now you use your brain?!” He scoffs more than questions, an unfamiliar blush rising on his cheeks.

“Oh fuck off, you were being purposely vague.” You say, before you switch back into your questioning. “But you… you seriously like me?”

“… I’m… fine, yes, I like you.” Rin says, looking over to see your unreadable expression.

“…”

You stare at him again.

“… I’m going now.” He says, pulling his hand free from yours,

“No— wait!” You protest, coming out of your shell shocked state. “No, I’m sorry, I was just— like— shocked, sorry— no, I mean, a good shock, like a birthday present surprise shocked.”

“…what?” Rin questions, trying to keep up with your rambling despite his years of training.

“Ah— that was very poorly worded, I mean— I like you too is what I’m trying to say.” You manage to get out, shooting him a flustered smile.

“…oh.” He gets out.

“…Okay, uh, cool.” You say.

The silence between you both drags on for a bit, until you can’t help it and you start talking again.

“So uh, what exactly is the protocol now cuz I don’t actually know what to do…”

Rin gives you a painfully fond look paired with a rare smile that makes your heart flip.

“You’re so stupid.” He says, although it sounds more like a complement than an insult with the way he sounds.

You smile despite yourself and roll your eyes. “And you’re emotionally constipated, just say I’m cute already.”

“And inflate your ego further?”

“...Says you.” You retort, before pausing briefly to speak again.

“So… Can I come to your game now?”

“No.”

You pout at his swift decline before giving him a pleading look. 

“… if I wear your jersey can I come to your game?”

“…fine.”

[bangtaninborderland]

JHS - Twisted Feelings (15)

Summary: After working at an award show for 2 years everything had become normal, idols were no longer exciting to see, performances became dull and every day blended together, that was until an unexpected man asked for your help.

Warning: themes of stalking.

A/N: it was my grandmas funeral today, I felt bad not posting. I’ll trying to get my shit together lol.

Ch.14 | MasterList | Ch.16

It had taken you twice as long to pack everything thanks to the continuous throbbing on your side and because you’d refused help. Hoseok had cancelled your Saturday session with Jungkook asking to do your Sunday session over video call.

You were thankful for the time it gave you to prepare for the move, all you had to do was find a moving company and everything was set. In all honesty you were excited about the prospect of a new apartment, it was significantly nicer than the one you had now but you couldn’t help feeling sentimental.

This was the first thing you had for yourself after leaving home. The first place you convinced a landlord to let you rent as an immature adult, the first place you’d brought a doormat for, the first place you’d had a taste of independence at.

It would be a place you missed but not a place you wished to return to.

You limped your way up the stairs, the thought of taking the elevator alone making your stomach churn uncomfortably. The halls were bare which wasn't weird for 8am on a Monday, with everyone either busy with a schedule or at home not yet being required to work. You still had 30 minutes until you were due to have your class with Hoseok which was definitely a blessing as you continued to hop your way to your ‘office’ with as little issue as possible.

“Yn?”

You nearly made, so nearly made it to relaxing in your comfortable chair for a little while before teaching all day. “Yes?”

You turn to find Jimin watching you, eyebrows furrowed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine jimin-ssi.” You smiled through your teeth.

“Ah” he shook his head. “Taehyung and I already agreed on us all being Informal with each other, we are all the same age.”

“I know, I still want to be professional when it calls for it though. I just don’t want anyone thinking badly of me.” You admit, working around celebrities had meant you had to carry yourself differently least everyone suspect you to be fame hungry or whatever other accusation they could come up with. “Is everything okay?”

“I just noticed you were limping.” He gestured to your leg and you did all you could to stand straight.

“It’s fine.” You brush him off. “Just too much walking.”

“Are you sure? I don’t think I remember you being checked out after the elevator accident.” He frowns as though recalling the incident.

The last thing you want is to spend any more unnecessary time doing unprofessional things in your very professional workplace. “I promise i'm okay. I was fine afterwards, I was packing all weekend and overdid it. If it gets any worse I’ll go to the doctor for a check up.”

He sighs, thankfully giving up on the matter. “Okay, Hyung should be here soon. If you need anything Jungkookie and I are going to be practising in studio B. Come and find us whenever.”

“Thank you, I will do. Have a good practice.” You wave him off as you enter your office, grunting as your body slumps rather ungracefully into the chair.

You quickly organised the papers you needed for the day, finding Hoseoks folder and setting it out on the desk ready for whenever he came.

You felt your bag vibrate against your leg, reaching down to grab your phone.

No caller ID

You tried to think about who would be calling you, it wasn’t as though an abundance of people had your number but then again with the move you’d had to contact a few moving companies and of course your new landlord.

You picked up. “Hello?”

“Blue shirt, black dress pants, you have a limp… I guess you did get hurt in the elevator after all.” The voice was distorted, it sounded like somethi he straight from a horror movie.

You hung up quickly, stuffing the phone in your bag as you checked out of the small window.

Someone was watching you, someone was watching you and knew exactly what you were wearing…did they cause the elevator accident too?

“Hey.” Hoseok knocked on the door, making you jump. “Woah I’m sorry.” He takes a step back, hands up as a surrender.

“No no.” You quickly apologise, grabbing his folder and the extra pens you’d brought. “I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You look scared, is everything okay?” He asks as he slides onto the chair opposite you.

“Yeah, I got lost in my own head, ignore me.” You laugh, pulling out the necessary worksheets. “I thought we could practice conversation today, it’s better if you learn the correct grammar for speaking rather than writing. Is that okay?”

“Whatever you think is best.” He agrees, taking a sip of his coffe before cleaning closer and giving you a full whiff of ‘expensive’.

You talked him through a few conversation starters, correcting him whenever he responded incorrectly before moving on to some vocabulary games, throwing in a few awful jokes along the way to make it a better experience for the rapper.

“You’re good at this.” He laughs out.

You can’t help but smile. “At what?”

“Making boring things fun. You don’t make me feel as though I can’t do it.” He explains sincerely.

“I’m happy to.” And you were, despite the fact it was your job it brought you joy. “Okay so just a few more vocabulary cards and then we will practice again and you can take a test.”

“I feel like im back in high school.” He sighs dramatically. “So much for graduating.”

“Actually, your cover of that graduation song was played at my school when we left.” You couldn’t help but recall the memory, a few of your classmates had gathered to do a little dance to it.

“Really?” He sat forward, eyes wide in surprise. “Did you listen?”

“I even danced to it.” You were fine embarrassing yourself if it made him laugh more.

“Wow.” He leans back. “I want to see.”

“Pass the test and I’ll ask my eomma to send me the video.” You shrug, sliding the paper over to him.

He looks at the paper. “What about the questions and vocabulary cards.”

“I’m making teaching fun.” You laugh, packing them away. “Good luck on your test.”

“I take it back, you are just like my high school English teacher.” He huffs playfully, picking up the pen.

He takes 25 minutes to completely finish, only asking for clarification on one question which was an improvement from your last few classes. You marked it quickly, his leg shaking in anticipation.

“So?” He asks the second you set the red pen down.

You fake a frown. “I guess I’ll text my eomma and ask.”

“Yes!” He shouts, slapping the table in excitement.

“You’ve done really well today, you should be proud of yourself. In between our classes you should listen to podcasts, YouTube videos, music, anything with English as much as possible. It may seem stupid if you can’t understand it all but I promise it is worth it.”

The timer goes off before you can give him any more ‘homework’.

“Thank you. Seriously, I had fun. I’ll try to do what you said.” He holds out his pinks. “Promise.”

“Very American.” You laugh, linking your pinky before pulling away. “Have you got a busy schedule today?”

“About 4 hours of dancing.” He groans. “And then just recording some more adlibs for the album.”

“I’m sure you’ll do amazing.” You give him a thumbs up as he opens the door.

“You’re welcome to come and watch if you have time, the staff are always there.” He offers.

“I’ll try and come by if I can, I was sent a few interviews to translate.” You explain, your love to watch them dance but you still didn’t feel as though it was your place. You didn’t want to seem overly comfortable when you’d only gotten the job because Hoseok had personally requested it. “You shouldn’t be late.”

“Of course not.” He checks his phone before frowning. “You’re right I should go, I’ll see you later if you’re still here when I get a break.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” You wait for the door to close before relaxing on your chair with a groan, your hands instantly wrapping around your hip as though to syphon the pain away.

It took you four hours and 45 minutes to completely every single interview that had been sent to you, in hindsight you probably should have procrastinated as much as you did but you couldn’t help it.

With work out of the way your mind drifted back to the earlier phone call, it was something you should report, you knew that.

You just didn’t want to worry anyone.

“Fuck.” You hiss, rummaging through your draw, finding the painkillers you’d put in there for emergencies and taking three.

Your phone buzzed, the screen flashing up with an email notification.

You click on it, guessing it was something work related only to notice the sender being unregistered and the text box empty.

Strange.

There’s an attachment at the end of the empty text box, your stomach twisted as you opened it. The screen now displays an image of you entering the building with the words “You’re easy to find.” edited across it.

“What the fuck.” You cuss to yourself. Taking a screenshot of both the image and the email before closing the app.

If this was happening because you were working with the members then why did it feel so personal?

“You’re still here?” You looked up to find Hoseok standing in the doorway, hair and face sweaty from dance practice. “I thought you would have come to see.”

“I really wanted to.” You explain. “I just had so much work to do.”

“I understand, it’s important and you don’t have to explain yourself to me.” He takes a few gulps of his water bottle. “Have you finished it all?”

“Yeah, finally.” You playfully swipe your forehead. “How was dance practice?”

He shrugs. “It was good.”

The conversation falls silent and for a few seconds you stare at each other before your phone buzzes with another notification.

Another email.

You can’t help but open it, despite how rude it may seem to be during a conversation your fingers itch to know what lies within the attachment.

It’s another image but this one had been taken days ago, one of you outside of the restaurant you had gone to with Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok.

“Hoseok?” You call out, turning your phone towards him.

He frowns as he takes the device, eyes going wide at the picture. “Is this the only one?”

“Of us? Yes.”

“And of you?” He asks, handing the phone back to you.

You contemplate lying but decide against it, you didn’t want to break the little trust you had. “I received another one earlier.”

He huffs shaking his head. “We need to take this to management, they may be able to have the email address tracked.”

“Okay let’s go.” You mumble, attempting to stand only for your leg to give out underneath you leaving you undignified as you fall to the floor.

“Shit.” Hoseok drops his water bottle as he reaches out to help you up. “Are you okay?”

“My hip.” You explain, using his body to support you. “It hurts.”

“Can I see?” He asks, resting your body against your desk.

You lift up your shirt, pushing the waistband of your pants down, a deep purple bruise scales your hip

“You have to get it checked, that looks awful.” He grabs your phone before wrapping an arm around your waist. “Lean on me, I’ll take you to the company doctor.”

You internally cringe at how another day has gone so wrong. “Okay, thank you.”

“What are friends for if not human crutches?” He laughs weakly carrying you both to the doctor.

Thankfully the room is close, the doctor rushing you in to sit on the hospital style bed. You explain what happened, answering all of his questions whilst he layers heat packs against your side.

“It’s not broken but you definitely have a hip pointer.” He explained, showing you similar images from a book. “It’s when you directly impact your hip causing bruising, pain, tenderness and it may impact your walking. You shouldn’t do much physical activity for at least a week.”

“It’s not bad.” You feel lighter knowing nothing had broken and all that could help was a little bit of rest. “Thank you for seeing me so fast.”

The doctor waves you off, giving you a prescription for some antibiotics as you left the office.

“Here let me help you back to your office.” Hoseok offers, wrapping his arm around you before you could contest against it. “I’m sorry we didn’t realise you were hurt.”

“It’s my own fault really, I pushed it too hard this weekend getting everything ready to move.” You hate the idea of him blaming himself for your own actions, you were a big girl and it was your responsibility.

He practically carried you back to your office despite your protests that it would do no good for him to be injured too only for him to shush you and insist on helping. Only when you were secured back in your seat did he drop onto the small couch in the corner. “I think you’ll have to attend a recording session tomorrow, there’s some producers coming from America and Nicole isn’t here.”

“I’ll check my schedule but I'm sure it will be on there if Nicole isn’t here.” You’d briefly met the other translator, she was kind but far too busy to make daily conversation with. You could see why they needed a secondary translator. “Don’t you have to record some things?”

“Ah.” He shakes his head. “We are going to wait until tomorrow so we can see what the producers say.”

“About the picture…” You start addressing the elephant in the room. “I think we should be careful about who we tell, I don’t understand how anyone would know where we were or what I was wearing unless they had been close to the building and possibly even had access. “I know inside leaks aren’t that uncommon.”

“It’s true but after years of experience it’s always best to tell management, if you can’t walk there I can call them and they will come here?” He offers.

Despite how cramped your tiny office would be you didn’t think you’d be able to manage another trip around the building so soon after having your hip poked and prodded at. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

He steps out of the room as he makes whatever phone call he needs to, returning a few seconds later. “They are coming down now.”

It’s relatively a quick affair, Sejin taking all the information from the email along with screenshots before explaining that he will take it to the HYBE security and protection team to have it investigated, finally explaining. “If you’re worried you should stay with someone else, a friend or family maybe. We ask that you don’t contact the police yet, we want to compile a full report before involving them.”

“Thank you Sejin-Ssi.” You nod respectfully in his direction as he leaves.

“It wasn’t that bad.” Hoseok jokes trying to lighten the mood. “If you’re finished for the day I can drop you home? We have been told to rest until the producers come by tomorrow.”

You soften at the offer but still can’t find it in your to accept. “Oh no it’s absolutely fine, I can just take a taxi or the bus. I doubt it’s safe for you to come to my apartment with all these pictures being taken.”

“Please? I feel awful that you’re in pain. I know how to go undetected.” He presses.

You consider it before giving in, it was daylight and he knew what he was doing. “Okay, only if you’re sure.”

“I am. Here, let me take that.” He grabs your bag, swinging it over his shoulder before once again offering you his arm to lean on. “One time Jungkook hurt his foot before a concert and afterwards he felt awful so we took turns carrying him around.”

You both make your way into the elevator, your heart picking up as memories from the accident flash through your mind. “Did it help him feel better?”

“Nope. Jin Hyung dropped him.” Hoseok snorts at the horrified look on your face. “It was fine, everyone was fussing around him. We got him onto the couch and Jin Hyung ordered his favourite foods.”

“It worked out then?” You ask, grinning as the elevator grows closer to the ground floor.

“Sort of?” He questions. “When Jin Hyung went to get some extra napkins Jungkook poured hot sauce over his food.”

“So it was payback?” You ask through a laugh.

He shakes his head as he grins. “Not at all, Jin Hyung had been plating up Namjoons food.”

The realisation dawns on you. “So let me get this right, Seokjin-ssi dropped Jungkook-ah and then as an apology brought him his favourite food. Jungkook sabotages Seokjin-ssi’ food but it was actually Namjoon-ssi’ food?”

He hums as he helps you out to the artist only car park. “Yep, but Taehyung-ah stole a bite and he is terrible with spicy food. He ended up knocking over a pitcher of water all over the dish Jungkook had wanted.”

You take a moment to laugh at that, the thought of a joke turning into absolute chaos around the dinner table. “So then what happened?”

“We all gave up, half of the meal was drenched in cold water, the other half was cold.” He chuckles as he unlocks his car and helps you in.

You wait until he starts the car to ask any more. “What did you eat?”

“Yoongi Hyung had ordered pizza as he didn’t want fried chicken so we stole it.” He laughs, carefully checking the street as he turns the car. “But Hyung is good, he ordered two pizzas.”

“You’ve known each other for a long time, I'm sure he probably can tell when it’s necessary.” Na-Rae has always been the same, knowing what you need before you do.

He shrugs. “I think we are all just synched. It’s a little scary how similar yet different we are.”

“Well clearly it works.” You point to the little picture resting in the back of his phone case, one of all seven of them at an award show.

He looks at you with a smile. “I guess it does. Put your address into my phone, I don’t know where im going.”

You punch in the address, the map on his phone displaying a 20 minute car journey.

The drive passes by as it had started, filled with never ending conversation and laughter. When you finally pulled up to your apartment you frowned to yourself, you didn’t want to journey nor the conversation to end. “Thank you for dropping me home.”

“Let me help you up.” He doesn’t give you a chance to argue before he is already opening your door, throwing your bag over his shower before helping you stand. “Does your building have an elevator?”

“Yeah, it's not fancy or anything though.” You explain.

You weren’t often a person who felt insecure but Hoseok was someone who had everything, whatever he owned, wore, ate, did was far more luxurious than anything you’d ever experienced. “Fancy is overrated.”

You push the broken elevator button, the machine loud as it carries you up to your floor. As soon as you step off the elevator you’re reaching for your keys, only to stop as you see your door open.

“Oh my god.” You rush over, forgetting the pain in your hip as you push it open.

You’re thankful Hoseok is there as you feel your eyes water. The apartment is wrecked, pictures of your friends and family had been smashed on the floor, the walls covered in paint and other substances you weren’t willing to touch, pillows torn open, furniture thrown across the room. Anything and everything that could be reached had been damaged.

“Come back out here.” Hoseok directs, pulling you into his arms as he dials the police.

You let yourself cry as he spoke to the operator, your heard pained with the acceptance that everything you’d worked for had been destroyed.

[velvetvexations]

And I can absolutely guarantee you no one would give a single flying fuck if a trans woman replaced a trans guy in a meme comic with herself. Because it's no big deal, and it's simply about finding something to be mad at the evil "TMEs" about or whatever. Truly, we must fight transphobia at the front lines! (Other trans people parodying meme comics)

Absolutely not lmao. But then it's fine, because, like, trans men are privlaged, so stealing their memes is like pirating a Disney movie, whereas stealing a transfem meme is practically snatching the food right out of a Victorian orphan's hands.

Are you not excited for the future where art styles are trademarked?

I'm still not entirely sure if I identify as a kinna non-binary or if I just feel myself to be a very butch transfem who likes using certain terms for myself to emphasize the unique nature of my femininity.

But I don't know what else to call it except for exorsexism when I get the five millionth side-eye for "AMAB trans woman," especially since I know people would go off the edge accusing me of being a TERF twenty times more if I said "male" like I actually want to.* Like, dadgum, can people not handle a girl choosing to identify in some way with a term traditionally associated with her body-type because she likes it without assuming she's another Blaire White?

Like this is that soul-gender shit I get riled up about, the word "male" isn't real! The ♂ is not a magic rune that wards against femininity! I can choose to identify with that and still be a woman, and when I enter a women's space while identifying openly as a male woman, that's going to piss TERFs off more than any of them ever could.

*I also identify myself as an AMAB trans woman to support AFAB trans women and other transfem folk, but I think using 'male' would do that just as well too

I DIDN'T KNOW IT HAD ANYTHING TO DO WITH TRANS PEOPLE EITHER

Eyyup. The safest queers always pretend the world outside the community is completely hypothetical so they can get down to the crucial business of praising them for breathing.

The comparisons to acephobia at least gives me hope things will get better, but I hope it's fucking soon.

It's the closest people who're privileged enough to care about meme theft get to dealing with things like that, of course it's basically the same to them, if they stepped outside their gated community for a second they'd have a religious experience like the Great Renunciation of Siddhartha Gautama.

Some day we'll find out what number comes after one.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Why can't haired people make their own memes? Why must they consistently debald the memes of bald people?

It's different when it's transfems because, uh, well, radfems say so.

They really can't help themselves.

Apparently it's hypocritical of me to call that racist, though, because I once told a tankie to bark like a dog without even looking at their* profile. Like, I'm sorry I very generically insulted someone who turned out to be Black, I guess.

Also, I apparently harass Palestinian blogs, which is truly wild and I can only guess must come from me occasionally bringing up hypocrisy when I yell at tankies for being enthusiastically pro-genocide when they feel like it.

*I do not recall the pronouns this loser used

The issue you're noticing is that transfems don't get socially murdered nearly often enough for transradfems to sustain themselves, and they can't influence any real issues, so they have to make up problems to fuel the martrydom that places them above all other trans people.

Oh, that sounds spectacular! Kinna gross, but like, in a spectacular way!

They don't think it's possible for AFAB trans people to detransition, to them it's all just cis women pretending to be trans to rip them off and hurt them.

It's real fucking bad.

I'm very sorry anon, and I completely agree.

You'd be surprised by me not liking most modern art.

I'm really happy you have that, and that we can relate to each other. <3

Are Black people saying the "why this _ mad" meme is exclusive to Black people? Is that discourse that's happening?

[cherry-flavoured-thot]

Acacia - a hidden relationship

Sharena knows something weird is going on between you and Alfonse, but she can’t quite put her finger on it. As she stands in Anna's office, she can't help but feel the need to voice her pondering.

“Hey Commander, have you noticed how much time Alfonse and Summoner have been spending together lately?” Of course, she could just brush it off as the two of you both throwing yourselves headfirst into work. After recent events, it wouldn’t be strange for you both to be extra diligent in both defense and offense alike. But still… there’s more to it, she just knows it. Based on how Anna’s expression turns from one of contemplation to something downright impish. It’s safe to say, she also has her own suspicions.

“You know, now that you mention it, I did ask Alfonse if there was anything he needed to tell me.” Anna had asked the question as the Commander; it shouldn’t fall to just the two of you take on the problems of several realms. She had asked the question with a great deal of concern and sincerity, only to become perplexed when Alfonse seemed to be at a loss for words. “He started to panic, and I guess at the time I didn’t really think about it, because I just thought he was really stressed.” And in fairness to Anna, he was stressed, going through event after event in his life with little reprieve is in fact quite damaging to the psyche. Alfonse, scrambled through his brain to decide on a response to her. She had followed up with expressing her concerns that he and Summoner might be overworking themselves too greatly.

“And what did he say?” Sharena is leaning forward in anticipation, goading the Commander to continue on with her retelling.

“Well, he assured me that they weren’t overworking themselves and he promised if there was anything I could do to help that he’d ask. And off he went.” In fact, he almost ran out of the room. The two women place their hands on their chins, contemplating the strange behaviour. Sharena is the first to speak, with a cheeky grin.

“Do you think they’re together?” Before Anna even has a chance to share her thoughts, there’s a knock on the door, followed by the door opening. You enter holding against your chest a bundle of papers.

“Hey Anna, hey Sharena, look I just needed-“ neither can contain their looks of suspicion as you close the door behind you. “Why are you both looking at me like that?” You’re perplexed, even more so when Sharena starts to grin.

“You know Summoner you sure have been spending a lot of time with my brother.” There’s no visible reaction from you. Your brows are still furrowed as you try to understand what you’ve wandered into.

“I value his advice and counsel.” Your answer is curt, and almost disappointing from how little it gives away. But the two press on, ever determined.

“So that’s why you spend every chance you get together?” Sharena questions.

“It’s important for us to be on the same page.”

“Even late at night when you’re sneaking into his room?” Anna thinks she’s got you there, as you visibly freeze on the spot. You are quick to rectify this momentary pause by outright brushing off heir accusations.

“Somethings can’t wait until morning. While we sleep our enemies move.” The two almost want to sigh about how little you gave them to work with.  You press the papers you were cradling onto the desk. “Speaking of our enemies, I wanted you both to just give me your opinion on this new training regimen. Alfonse and I have been in talks with some of the more knowledge heroes about…” you’ve dismissed anymore queries from either of them completely, jumping into the conversation about training.

For a moment neither of the two women are sure if it’s intentional to dodge any further questioning, or you really have thrown yourself so deep into your responsibilities that you haven’t even given it a second thought how improper things might appear to others.

Although… you do seem to be more focused more on objects in the room then the inquisitive stare from either of them. And that enough is to continue their suspicions further.

“Alright, thank you both for your time. I’ll let some of the Heroes know we are changing some of their training accordingly.” You’re about to take your leave when you notice Anna’s facial expression change to a smirk.

“And let me guess you’re going straight to Alfonse?”

“If there’s something you need to know you should just ask outright.”

“Come on Summoner are you Alfonse together? Can you please tell us?” Sharena whines, and now it’s your turn to grin at the pair.

“Oh yes, we spend a great deal of time together. It’s the best way to get work done.” The two exchange a look, you use it as an excuse to beeline straight to the door. By the time they object to your sudden exit, you’re practically out the door.

“Hey, wait that doesn’t answer the question!”

“Sorry guys but I really have to go, bye!” The door slams shut, and your footsteps quickly dart down the hall until they disappear. Sharena frowns, throwing her arms up in exasperation.

“There is no way they’re not together. They just don’t want to tell us!” Anna nods. That would explain so much about the sudden strange behaviour, not to mention the strange staring contests between you and Alfonse during the War Council meetings.

“Yeah, I agree. But why haven’t they told us?” The two make verbal noises of contemplation, trying to rack their brains about why you both would be keeping it a secret. Of course, there are very reasonable explanations, but Sharena can’t help but latch on to a particular train of thought the second it appears in her brain.

“Maybe Alfonse is waiting to propose first?” Both are visibly excited at the idea. Sharena, at the thought of you officially becoming part of her family and the never-ending jokes she can make to her brother about him scolding her about not befriending the Heroes as they’d need to go back to their own worlds. Anna can hear dollar signs in her mind as someone is going to need plan the wedding and arrange the venue. Who better than your dear Commander? For a reasonable fee of course!

Meanwhile, as you’re walking away from Anna’s office, you run into Alfonse along the way who was heading to see Anna and Sharena for a different matter. “Unless you’d like to be interrogated about our relationship status I wouldn’t go there right now.” He raises a brow, only to then follow it up with a defeated sigh.

“Are we really that bad at keeping secrets?”

“Anna made a comment about me sneaking into your room late at night.” His cheeks visibly flush at that. He brings a closed fist up to his mouth and lets out a cough to regain some composure.

“Perhaps I’ll speak with them at a later time.”

“Good idea.” You nod continuing in your direction further away from Anna’s office. It doesn’t help the rumours that he instead trails back beside you, his hand hovering over yours begging to be held.

You really are awful at keeping secrets. Given how you don’t even hesitate to take his hand in yours.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

The Fight: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Summary: After a weird encounter with your parents and friends, you try to get to the bottom of it even if you don't like the answer.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Season Five Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

"I have found the paradox that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love." - Mother Teresa

"Anything on your mind?" Melissa asks when you're in your morning session.

"Something weird happened on Friday with my parents." It's Monday so you haven't been to work to ask the girls about it. "I don't think my friends like my parents."

"Why do you say that?"

"Okay, so, my friends agreed to come with me and meet them even though they couldn't stay long. I'd have my boyfriend there but he and my dad don't exactly get along. When they met my friends, I immediately felt uncomfortable. It was coming from them like they didn't feel comfortable around them. My parents were super nice so I'm not sure why they felt like that. They even lied to them about why they had to leave so suddenly."

"Did you ask them about it?"

"I didn't want to embarrass them. I'll ask them when I go to work today."

"Why doesn't Spencer like your dad?"

You sigh and shift in your seat. 

"He thinks they're criminals." You see the look on her face and immediately explain. "Not like that. I guess I mean that he thinks they have ulterior motives. They're foster parents and have always been foster parents. Spencer thinks they're doing something dangerous on the side. I don't know. I don't want to talk to him about that."

"Why is that?"

"I guess I don't want to see my parents being anything other than my parents. They're loving, of course, but they can be scary. My dad, mostly."

"Do you fear them?"

"I never did and never have. My dad has scary qualities, for sure, but I never thought my life was in danger because of them. He's a very stressed man. He has young kids to take care of on top of his job."

"What does he do?"

"He's an independent contractor. He gets odd jobs here and there but it's enough to pay the bills, and it allows my mom to stay at home with the kids."

"Well, if nothing is wrong, then maybe you're allowing that fear you had from prison to project onto your friends and family."

"Yeah, maybe," you sigh.

"Speaking of, how are you feeling about prison?"

"I feel like a weight has been lifted from my chest. Remember that friend I told you about? The one that was falsely accused? I got her released. I worked with my team on a case that just so happened to be hers. We gathered evidence that got her released."

"How does that make you feel?"

"Like my old self again," you smile sheepishly.

"How is the IRT coming along?"

"Believe it or not, I'm not having nightmares as much as before. The only nightmares are mainly about the rape and the birth."

"That's to be expected coming from such a young age. Trauma like that doesn't go away overnight."

"Apparently, it doesn't go away after sixteen years either."

Melissa closes her notebook with a smile.

"I do have to say, I'm impressed with your progress. You look better."

"I feel better," you smile.

After your session, you head straight to the airport where the jet is waiting. Hotch got in contact with an old friend with a case in San Francisco. The Red Cell as they like to call themselves are a group of FBI agents, and they've been tracking a case that is three years old. Two years ago, a dead man turned up in Presidio Park with a massive amount of blunt-force trauma, defensive wounds, and a single gunshot wound to the back of the head. Over the next three days after that, three more victims with the same MO turned up. After that, nothing.

Until a year ago when the exact same thing happened--one dead male, badly beaten, and shot execution style. Three more dead men followed that three days after. Nothing happened after that until last night when another body turned up in the exact same style as the others which means the Red Cell has three days to find the unsub before he's lost for an entire year.

The leader of the Red Cell, Sam Cooper, thinks there are parallel murders linked to the cases. Two years ago after the murders stopped, a single dad and his fifteen-year-old brunette daughter were found dead in their car. Last year after the murders stopped, another dad and his daughter were found dead.

Hotch doesn't think both cases are related but Sam does. He'd like for your team to work the bodies in Presidio Park while the Red Cell works the theory on the fathers and daughters. If Sam is right then one half of the case solves the other half. The only thing is that Sam asked Strauss about doing this and she said no, but that doesn't mean he is going to listen to her. If he's wrong about this and the two cases aren't connected, then Strauss will have his ass and his job.

Still, Sam is dead set on figuring this out with or without Hotch's help. Luckily, Hotch has never been a fan of how Strauss handles things which is why you went straight to the plane instead of back to the office after your morning session.

"What do we know about the past years' victims?" Rossi asks.

"The Tenderloin District has a high concentration of drug addicts and homeless people. All the victims have been transients," Spencer says.

"So, this unsub is choosing easy targets that won't be missed. He's not concerned with the challenge of the hunt. All these victims are part of a larger plan which he executes in the same few days every year."

"Reid, did you find any significance to the dates?" Hotch asks.

"Nothing historical. It's gotta be personal for the unsub."

"JJ, you and Reid hit the San Francisco PD. Rossi, Y/N, and Prentiss go to the dump site. Morgan and I will go to the coroner's office. Nobody should expect to get a lot of sleep for the next three days."

"What about Cooper's team? You said he had a theory," Rossi says.

"He believes that whoever is murdering these homeless men is also abducting fathers and daughters and killing them once the transients are disposed of."

"Why isn't his team on the jet now?" Emily asks.

"Because the director wouldn't authorize them to join the investigation."

"They're working against the director's orders?"

"Let's not focus on that. We need to concentrate on the dead men abducted from the Tenderloin. Cooper's team can help determine if there's a missing father and daughter, and whether it's connected to our case."

"Or you could get in serious hot water if the director thinks you're helping to defy her," Emily says.

"No, Hotch is right," Rossi says. "I've known Sam Cooper for twenty years, and I've never seen him defy an order. If he feels this strongly about a hunch, we need to help him however we can."

So, how do you conjure victims of a crime that might not have been committed out of thin air in a major American city? San Francisco has a population of eight hundred thousand people with half of them males. Forty-five percent of the population is white so that leaves about three hundred and sixty thousand people. If the team searches for girls from thirteen to eighteen, narrows it some more to brunettes, and narrows that down to their fathers who haven't shown up to work, then maybe the Red Cell might be able to find the missing family before they are killed.

All the dump sites including the most recent murder have been scoped out by you, Rossi, and Prentiss. Every single dump site has been isolated like the unsub avoids the main paths and never dumps them in lightened areas. In order to get the best location, he'd have to study the terrain beforehand which means he's organized and physical enough to haul a body on his own. Every victim was living on the streets so there were no witnesses when he grabbed them. Your guess is that he managed to lure them with the promise of food or drugs. None of them were reported missing which makes it harder to figure out who might be next.

The most recent victim was found at Presidio Park. The ME determined that if he hadn't been shot in the head, then he would have died from internal bleeding. Not only was the victim shot, but there is powder residue in his skull which means he had to have been subdued when he was shot. It doesn't make sense. He got abducted off the streets quietly enough that there were no witnesses, but then he fights for his life only for the unsub to shoot him execution style. What the hell is he doing with these men?

The Red Cell looked into potential missing girls and talked to over two hundred middle schools. There have been a lot of absent girls but not a lot of absent fathers. Those who were absent were cross-referenced with their yearbook photos to see who were brunettes. They came up with a young girl named Jane McBride who is fourteen. She didn't show up for school yesterday or this morning, and her dad, Ben, hasn't been at his contracting company for the last two days.

You, Hotch, and Sam head over to Jane's mother's house to talk to her. They might not be the couple you're looking for but it's as good a start as any. Hotch parks and all three of you get out of the car. You walk across the street and stop in front of Sarah McBride's house, knocking on her door.

"Mrs. Mcbride? I'm Agent Hotchner with the FBI. This is Agent Cooper and Agent Y/N. We're here to determine whether your husband and your daughter are missing."

"Don't," she gasps. You can feel the panic come off her in waves. "Just get inside, please. Hurry." All three of you rush inside with her permission. She closes the door and leans against it with a pained look on her face. "Oh, God."

"Sarah?" you ask.

"You just got my family murdered."

"What do you mean?"

She pushes off the door and walks to the living room where her TV is. She puts a disc into the DVD player and turns it on. On the screen is the first victim tied to a chair. He is struggling against the binds but nothing will protect him against the gun in the frame. The unsub is holding it but he doesn't give any indication of who he is. He shoots the victim in the head and Sarah looks away from the video painfully.

"That's the first victim from the park," Hotch mumbles.

"The man on the phone said he'd kill Ben and Jane if I brought in the police. He said that if I needed proof, I should check my front porch. When I did, this was there."

"Oh, he's careful. There's nothing to distinguish him or his location," Sam says.

He walks over to the DVD player and removes the disc with a tissue to avoid his fingerprints on it.

"Were there any other instructions?"

"No. He said he'd call with more. Do you think he's watching? I mean, is he going to kill them?"

"The video was shot by a camera on a tripod which means he probably doesn't have a partner. It would be almost impossible for him to take your family prisoner and do surveillance simultaneously."

"He's done this before?" You nod silently. "Why didn't someone come forward after to say what happened?"

"He doesn't leave anybody with knowledge alive. We'll post an agent here to keep you safe. Can you excuse us for a moment?" You, Hotch, and Sam leave her house to talk on the street. "Cooper, listen. Your theory's right. We know he's killing homeless men as well as fathers and daughters, but let us work it. If you go back to DC now, the director won't know that you ignored her order."

"Look, I know you're sticking your neck out on this thing for me. I understand. I don't... I'm not trying to..."

"This isn't about me. I want to protect you."

Sam takes out his wallet and pulls a picture from it.

"Do you remember him?"

"Holby Holme. Of course."

"Do you remember we got that confession for those five child murders? We all had that gut feeling. We knew he wasn't good for all of them. The preference was too varied. Local cops shut the investigation down. The FBI told us to get our asses back home."

"I remember," Hotch nods.

"Where were you when you heard they caught that second killer dumping this boy's body?"

"I was in Denver working a new case. You?"

"I wasn't on anything yet. I could have still been there. I won't ignore my gut again. I don't care what it costs me."

Hotch sighs. "Okay. My people will be on the record, and we'll use yours to double manpower."

Sam steps off to the side for a quick breather, and you tap Hotch's shoulder shyly. You've been wanting to say this to him for a while now and this is your opportunity to do so.

"Listen, Hotch, I just want to say I'm sorry for how I've been these past few months. I wasn't in my right mind but that's no excuse. I turned my back on people I needed and shut them out when they tried to help. You were one of them. I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize. You were going through something traumatic. It's okay."

"No, it isn't. I'm going to do better and be better for this team. I'll prove to you that I'm not going to let you down."

"I have no doubts," he smiles. It's amazing how much of a support system you have here with your team. Hotch is understanding when he needs to be and that means more to you than he realizes. His phone rings and he answers it. "Hotchner. ... Where? ... Okay." He hangs up. "They found another body." He turns to you. "Prentiss and Agent Rawson are already on it. Join them."

"Okay," you nod.

x

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