#i hate pink yet i can see that's a well designed bathroom | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

m-s-knarp · 1 year ago

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I'm the coolest motherfucker on the team.

Okay, sure, it's not too high of a bar to cross when by "team" you mean "group of six 6th graders huddled on one side of the chess club room to finish their assigned task of designing a chess set". Still. Objectively, anyone who knows me would say the same.

I've got it all: ✓ I swear (see: first line). ✓ I raise my middle finger at my parents when they piss me off. (They're usually already walking away, so they never get to see it in time.) ✓ I wear dark clothes. (Yeah, I'm a girl, and I HATE pink!) ✓ I have friends on the internet. (Most people I know don't even have computers.) ✓ I have the brawns. (I'm really good at table tennis. I just don't like playing other sports, but I'd probably be really good too.) ✓ I have the brains. (As you've astutely observed, I'm in the chess club. AND I used an 8th grade word.) ✓ And most importantly, I don't care what anyone thinks.

I mean, I'm basically perfect.

So when Polly -- the only other girl in the circle we've formed around our pile of construction paper, glue, and glitter -- is this slow, ignorant, childish, and, well, honestly average-looking at best girly girl, but still having everyone fawn over her…

Lame. I subconsciously make a face at her as she carefully slides the glue stick over a purple square one of the boys cut from our pack of multicolored paper. She glances up at me for a moment, looks down, and back at me again. I can't blame her, I mean I'm--

"Hehe," Polly puts a fist over her lips and giggles.

As the other members in our group turn their heads toward me, I realize my face is contorted in a way that's simply uncool.

10 milliseconds in, I think: "Shit."

Another 30 milliseconds after: my face goes back to resting position.

The remaining 20 milliseconds before a second has passed: "Alright. I'm fast. I'm safe."

I was not fast. I was not safe.

One of the boys snorted when he saw my expression.

"Hey, it's one of them tengu masks we saw in class the other day!" He so very kindly commented.

Great. This bitch. But I can't let them see I'm fazed. I'm not. I'm cool, after all.

"Shut up!" I snapped at the boy. There was a slight crack, both in my voice and in between my lips, as a little bit of dribble escaped my mouth and landed on my knee. It's over.

I quickly wiped it away with my black hoodie sleeve, but once again I was too slow, evidently, as another boy started wheezing. Maybe today's just not my day, but even if I conclude the situation like a mature adult in my head, my heart just continued pumping blood into my face faster. Fuck tengus, and fuck the teacher who decided eastern culture was something we needed to learn about. (I don't actually mean it. Anime is SO awesome. Too bad it's too cool for anyone in this city.)

I stood up and walked away, but not without saying my signature phrase.

"Wh-- Whatever."

Nailed it. Barely.

I sat in the bathroom stall, waiting for time to pass by. I'm not returning to that ugly nerd den. My mom didn't let me get a touchscreen phone yet, so I took my blue pen out of my pocket and started scribbling on my arm.

I forgot to mention that I'm artistic too. You can tell because I can draw eyes that look pretty much realistic. Like I said, total package.

I was halfway into drawing 4 stickmen about to have an epic spear battle when I heard the main bathroom door open and creak shut.

"Lizzy?" A dumb sweet voice called out. Idiot. Stupid. God, I hate her.

I stay quiet for a second, but I realize how embarrassed I might look if she found out I was here and just didn't respond. Fine. You want to play this game. I assure you, you can't make me look more moronic than you. My heart beats a little quicker as I reach for the lock to slide it open.

"It's Eli, dumbass," I said, opening the stall door and reemerging from the shadows cast by the walls. "No one calls me that."

If anyone else saw me just then, they'd forget all about the dumpster fire mess from earlier and start wondering again what color the motorcycle I most likely have is. (It would be black with red flames, of course.)

When I looked down at this short, meek, and rabbit-resembling girl, she shook. Tears had obviously already began to form in her eyes at just the thought of being in my presence. Yeah, that's right, I'm a terrifying force. Don't fuck with me.

Yet the tengu comparisons would die out by now, very quickly, as my face turned from dark red to pale peach. Why is she crying? I don't wanna get in trouble with the teachers.

"Sorry," she started, and then looked down. She was clearly choosing her next words very carefully. "I also want to apologize for earlier. I thought you were trying to make me laugh to trip me up."

She started picking at one of her perfectly manicured nails. "It worked."

Yeah, right. She's always been graceful, talented, and neat. Even if it was my intention, which unfortunately it wasn't, it wouldn't have done jack shit. Or would have done? I've gotta Google how to use that phrase later.

I snap out of it and look at her again. "Whatever."

Polly quickly jolts her head up again and locks her widened eyes with me.

"Wait, did you draw that?" She points at one of the scribbles on my arm. It's a simple drawing of Reborn from hit anime series, "Katekyou Hitman Reborn!" which means "Hitman Tutor Reborn". I think. That's what the comment on Part 3 of Episode 2 on Youtube said. And then he said something in Spanish.

"Yeah, it's from this anime," I smirked. "You've probably never heard of anime before." Honestly, for a moment, I felt excited, it sounded like she recognized it, but…what are the odds. Ah, there's the familiar pang. Even if I show her even just a screenshot of the anime, she's gonna call it a cartoon and go back to her perfect little bubble. The disrespect.

"Are you talking about Reborn?"

…

I searched her face for any indication of a prank. Or a single lie. Her? Is this really possible?

Yes. She's for real.

For nearly 2 years, I could talk to only my online BFFs on Facebook and Skype about my favorite anime. I had no one to talk about the newest seasonal series or use -chan with. Not even someone to eat cup noodles and pretend to be Naruto with. All of a sudden, here's someone I can talk to about senpais, cherry blossoms, and beautiful moons.

Alright.

Fine.

I give in.

Whatever.

Maybe she's a little cool after all.

#m.s.k. to mission control #writeblr #creative writing #short story #fiction #writers on tumblr

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violetnotez · 4 years ago

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HC: Seeing Them Shirtless for the First Time | JJK

Should I be getting ready for work? Yes, yes I should be 💀

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

Music Genre: Rock | JJK

Characters: Gojo, Itadori, Megumi

Warnings: cursing, suggestive content

Music Collection | Tip Jar | Requests!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

Shop Owner Note: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS ONE-Gojos in particularrrrrr

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

The first time you saw Gojo shirtless was during your first time being intimate with him.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

Gojo was just-perfect. You honestly couldn’t describe him any other way...yeah, he could sometimes be a pain in your ass with his boyish antics, but that somehow adds to that special charm he possesses. Even now, with his hands pinning yours above your head, lips molding into yours in a lustful heat, he was smiling as if he was having the time of his life. Gojo moved down from your lips, finally allowing you a second to breathe, instantly finding a spot on your neck, sucking and licking the skin as if his life depended on it. The sensation was overriding your system, your throat desperately trying to release a groan from the overwhelming sensation, intense heat traveling through your core. You felt him find the spot you were most sensitive in, that held back groan finally being stolen from your swollen lips. Embarrassment burst into your stomach, your knuckles tightening as you shifted to to the side, desperately trying to hide your face from making such a lewd reaction.

You felt Gojo chuckle against your skin, the vibration sending a shock wave throughout your spine and limbs. “Ah, Cmon doll, don’t be so shy,” he cooed, a devilish smirk encasing his features, “I like it when you make those little sounds for me.........and only me, right?” It was a taunt, a trap, and he knew it-if Gojo Satoru was anything, he was always confident in his abilities. And his ability to completely be able to control you, to keep you by his side, was no exception. Any other day, when you were thinking clearly you would Probabaly retort back with a back handed quip that would make him chuckle. But right now, with your head buzzing with adrenaline and only the thought of the way his skin felt against yours, his kisses burning into your flesh and the pulsating heat in your core...you just wanted him.

“Only you,” you whispered, voice wavering with nerves and adrenaline as your digits found the edge of his shirt, craving for more of his skin against yours. Gojo chuckled again, the sound warm and rich like molasses. Yet, his hand since again were on top of yours, now halting you in your pursuit of undressing him. “You really wanna do this doll? I’m not against it, not at all, but you dont have to-“

“I want to,” you interjected, face flushed with desperation, eyes wide with lust, “I want to so badly Gojo...I want you.” Gojo’s chest tightened at the words, a feral need exploding in his chest-god, the times he dreamed of this day and it’s finally happening...you were just too adorable, your hair tosseled from the heated make out sessions, lips puffy and skin so warm, your eyes practically begging him to devour you. How could he deny you that luxury, especially since you wanted it so much? He leaned in to your lips, digits tracing your skin in designs only he could imagine. He pulled away, mere centimeters from your skin. “You sure little one?” He asked again, using the nickname he gave you that always made you roll your eyes with a smile. It did just the trick, making you giggle at the name as you looked to the side-“I’ve always been ready, ya know.”

“Oh really?” He teased, that delicious smirk gracing his features. He leaned away from you, sitting up in the bed. “Well, I’m not too sure about that....” His digits wrapped around the hem of his shirt near his neck, pulling the fabric over his head and tossing it to the corner of his room. Gojo shook his hair out slightly, making the tendrils look even more chaotic than before. You felt your chest tighten by the sight of Gojo shirtless....you had imagined many times before, but seeing the real thing was way different, and way better. Gojo was built as perfectly as his personality, each muscle taught and visible in his abdomen and arms, the veins in his hand even more noticeable in the lighting. You gulped, staring at the way his sweatpants accentuated the dips of his hips, following down to the waist band of his boxers peaking out from his sweats.

Gojo noticed every gesture you made, loving how you drank in his form as he hovered over you. “Why don’t you take a picture-itll last longer,” he said as he leaned into your ear, earning a playful eye roll form you. He chuckled at your reaction, leaning back into your body, hands trailing the side of your waist. “Well if you’re not gonna take a picture....I don’t think it’s very fair that I’m the only one shirtless here....” your felt his digits find the hem of your shirt, teasingly tracing your skin under from underneath..

“So how about we change that, hm?”

The first time you saw Itadori shirtless it was by pure chance- He just cant seem to remember to bring a spare tshirt into the bathroom when he showers.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

Yuuji cant seem to understand why your so flustered- he is so adorable and innocently oblivious its almost painful. Especially when he comes out of the bathroom from a shower, cotton candy pink hair still dripping with water droplets, slick adomen in full view, the “V” of his hip bones partially exposed from the band of his sweatpants. You just wanted to have a chill movie night with your boyfriend-but how can you think about choosing between a horror or a comedy when you have that in front of you? You gulp down a ball of saliva as Itadori casually talked about the different options of films, rummaging through his drawers for a clean shirt as if this was all a normal event-which it was not. Your eyes were glued onto him, drinking in every deifned dip and curve and trying to hold yourself back from thinking about...other ways this cozy date could end up....

But Yuuji knows you like the back of his hand....he knows when something is wrong with you, and you most deinfitely are not your self right now. He instantly begins to ask you questions, voice softly laced with worry. You reassure him your fine, really, but Itadori knows you way too well. He gently raises your chin with his pointer and middle finger, forcing you to look into his eyes. Your breathe gets hitched in your throat, brain suddenly and unbelievebaly clouded from being so so close to him, now knowing that the boyfriend you love so dearly looks like a damn god under his clothing making your heart ram against your chest. His voice was comforting and warm, eyes scanning your face for any sign of sadness or even maybe sickness.

“Whats on your mind?” he asks gently, trying to coax a response out of you so he can put his worries at ease....until he hears the words “your abs”, blurt out of your mouth at warp speed, your tone dazed and then immediately embarrassed, horror on your face for saying soemthing so honest. He blinks a few times, clearly not expecting that to come from you....but he would be lying if he didnt say he enjoyed it once it set in. A warm chuckle tumbles out of Itadori, that bright boyish grin plastered on his face. He really didnt mean to make you so flustered,..but he’s not complaining

The first time you saw Megumi shirtless was by force-he just hates being taken care of when he’s hurt.

Crimson red clumped against Megumi’s face, sticky and smeared glimpses of his pale skin glowing under the moonlight. His hair was matted down to his face from the slashes oozing out of his head, suit was slashed to bits, his ribs were killing him, and he had a limp on his left leg...but he was fine-honestly. Or that’s what he was trying to tell you...but you wouldn’t listen to a single second of the bull crap he was trying feed you. He was conflicted with emotions-on one hand, it almost annoyed him how utterly selfless you could be for him. It was 1am, the moon on its highest peak in the sky, and you were willing to play nurse for him....but on the other, it warmed him up inside that you did care so much. If he would allow himself to dwell on that emotion, he would admit-that it was .... nice....to have someone take care of him for once. He was used to bandaging each wound on his own, cleaning and disinfecting the soon to be battle scars, hissing to the walls at the pain it caused him. But with you there, you were soft, so gentle with him. Your touch was like a second adrenaline rush for him-you had yourself cradled in his lap, the skin of your thighs barely crazing his tattered uniform. Hands gently positioning his hair, pushing the wispy jet black strands away from the wounds.

“I can do this on my own,” he retorted quietly, his voice a few octaves lower from fatigue. “I bet you could..” you completely ignored him, continuing to busy yourself with closing a scrape on his skin with butterfly bandages. “-but why would I let you?” Megumi felt his breath hitch, taking a sharp breath in....any type of annoyance he felt with you being so god damn persistent instantly left his body, the only thing he can focus on was how much he loved your selfless nature-even if it could be annoying at times. But the instant he took in that deep breath, he felt a deep, guttural pain in his side, making him groan before he could stop it from spilling out of his mouth. That soft gaze you had turned to worry, your hands wrapping around his face, thumbs running smooth circles on his pale skin. “Your hurt....we’re going to need to-“

“N-no, I-“Megumi stuttered out, obviously flustered by the prospect of you seeing him so bare. “I-I’m fine. I can do this on my-“ his voice was stern and cold, yet the wavering tone made any attempt of sounding firm go invalid. You gave him a small smile, your fingers still running circles against his skin, making him look at you with nervous eyes. “Megumi, you are not fine,” you stated calmly, with eyes that simply said the opposite-you were genuinely worried for him. “please...you could have broken a rib, or done soemthing to cause a lot of damage...please, Megumi, I don’t want you to be in pain anymore.” You were asking him, pleading with him, and it broke Megumi in his core-he just couldn’t stand to see you look that scared for him of all people. Megumi sighed, eyes drifting down to the floor in hopes you couldn’t see his embarrassment as he gave in to you.

You helped Megumi shuffle out of his uniform, opting to cut it with some scissors halfway (as it was tattered to shreds already). Both of you were quite nervous...in your relationship, you had never down anything that would warrant for you to see each other’s body’s. So you being able to see him without a shirt felt like a huge step, even if it wasn’t such a big deal to an outsider. Once the fabric was finally off, you both sat in silence, your minds reeling. You knew Megumi was fit, but seeing exactly how much that work paid off brought heat flooding your body, your eyes focused on the way his breath contracted and relaxed his muscles, the moonlight catching the divots of his lower abdomen deliciously. Pale white Scars littered his skin from training, making his body even more mysterious to look at. Each scar was a story, some sort of battle, a lesson he had to learn...you wanted to learn about each and every one. Your hand felt drawn to them, digits slowly checking for signs of bruising, purposefully tracing those scars in order to burn them to memory. Fushigori was practically panicking, desperately trying to keep his heartrate lowered, the cool night air biting at his heated skin as your digits traced against his sides. You were only trying to detect the spots that could be damaged on his abdomen...but damn was it firing something inside him. He was feeling more comfortable like this, just relishing the feeling of your skin on his.

None of these characters or shows are my own, only the storylines and narratives I create are mine. Copying, stealing, plagiarizing, rewording, or using my storylines in other media, claiming to be your own, or reposting without my consent is not allowed.

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ushisrever · 3 years ago

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NIAAAAAAAAAAAA ♥️ congrats on hitting 400 million followers 😘😘😘 DASURRRRRRRRRRV

Anyways on to the event proper—

Can i request for Kenma (Haikyuu!!) + any shade of pink or red—

I have a love-hate relationship with kids, especially 5+ y/o’s.

Yet when i see them, i have the sudden urge to either pinch their cute cheeks or ruffle their head/hair

Seeing babies and toddlers do things (dancing to tiktok music, doing cute facial expressions etc) = MY SEROTONIN ♥️

Hope i did it right 👉🏻👈🏻

YOU AND KENMA WILL HAVE TWIN GIRLS!

Alright, so Kenma isn’t much of an interior designer when the two of you decided to build a nursery for your soon to be born twin girls. You had to stop him from buying almost every baby equipment or toys he can see online. (The man is rich, he won’t think and just buy everything in just a click). You even later find so many boxes in your living room after you get home from work. Though, it’s not like you don’t like what he bought online. It’s just that it’s too much and some of it may not exactly be necessary. After nagging him a little bit about the online buying, you then just end up dealing with the things. You spent your sleepless nights going through the packages and putting some of it in a basket (for laundry) and some of it in the nursery room. However, one night when you wake up to go to the bathroom, you find your husband not beside you anymore. You look for him and find him in the living room with his laptop on. At first, you think that he’s sneaking off buying new things. Though, before you could even say anything, you hear him mumble to himself.

“Emily is a nice name,” he said.

You look at him confused. Though, he starts mumbling girl names and realizes that he’s looking through girl names. Maybe, it’s the pregnancy hormones, but maybe you just find yourself finding the situation adorable. When he hears sniffles from behind him, he turns and sees you all teary.

“Baby, why are you awake?” he asked as he came closer to you and engulf you in a hug.

“Are you picking names without me?” you asked.

“Uh…well…I’m just laying out the possible options,” Kenma asked. “And…I also want to know what name we can have carved…on the cribs,”

You pull away from him and look at him sternly. “Did…you just buy something without consulting me,”

It’s not like you can stay mad at him. He is good at buying things. The crib he bought is even way more perfect.

#tahonet #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #kenma kozume #kozume kenma #kenma kozume x reader #fluff #haikyuu fluff

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ssamie · 4 years ago

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you’re all i need.

·˚ ༘⌗ reki kyan x gn!reader

·˚ ༘⌗ reki knew he was no prodigy like langa. he knew he didn't have anyone on his side, after all, they were right. he wasn't good enough nor did he stand in the same pedestal as his friends. but really, sometimes, all he needed was someone to believe in him, and someone to stay by his side.

·˚ ༘⌗ warnings: angst?, fluff, sad reki

gen masterlist. sk8 masterlist.

reki sighed for the umpteenth time as he struggled to keep in his tears. he kicked some rocks with his feet as he walked, wanting nothing more than to be with you right now.

watching langa skate, hearing the praises from the other skaters of 'S' and their friends, and getting constantly overshadowed by langa was taking a toll on him, that's for sure.

lately, he's been craving nothing more than a few words of praise or reassurance. he's been feeling quite unmotivated lately, and has barely even been touching his skateboard.

he finally came to a halt as he arrived in front of his house. his phone was still as dry as it could be, no replies from you, not even a single call back.

"goddammit." he swore under his breath as he pocketed the phone with a frown. his lips were quivering, and the built-up stress, anger and disappointment was too overwhelming at the moment.

"im home.." he announced to no one in particular. it was late at night after all. his family was already sound asleep, leaving him alone once again.

"this seriously sucks.." he mumbled as he took off his shoes, and headband. he ruffled his hair as he entered the bathroom to wash his face.

"this sucks. this sucks. this sucks." he chanted under his breath.

tears were falling down his cheeks. all the effort he had put into holding them back ended up being futile. not that he was surprised.

"i hate this." reki sniffled as he wiped his cheeks free from the salty tears. he pulled out his phone with his shaky hands, tapping on your contact in hopes of hearing your lovely voice even for just a second. it had always succeeded in cheering him up.

"no answer.." he muttered dejectedly. he let out a pained laugh as he hung his head low.

"even y/n's tired of me huh.."

reki stared at himself in the mirror, the statement was left lingering in the air as he blinked upon painful realization.

"they're.. they're tired of me?" he muttered to himself, his eyes widening in fear. "no, no.. that can't be. right?"

he let out a nervous chuckle as he pulled his phone out once again, tapping on your contact in hopes of getting a response.

"y/n, please answer.. please answer.." reki whimpered as he bit his nails out of nervousness. it had always been a bad habit of his.

"shit!" he exclaimed as tears started brimming his eyes once again.

he ran to the front door, fully ready to run to your house just to receive some much needed reassurance. though the sight of your shoes neatly placed by the side made him freeze.

"they're here..?" he blinked in surprise. instantly he sprinted to his room, not even caring that he was being too loud and that he might wake his family with the thumping of his feet.

"y/n! i-" he abruptly stopped as his eyes landed on your figure, sleeping peacefully on his bed.

he quietly closed his bedroom door and stealthily tiptoed towards you. he kneeled by the side of his bed, resting his chin on the mattress as his eyes raked over your features.

he carefully brought his hand up to cup your cheeks, his thumb gently carressing your soft cheeks as a faint smile etched itself on his lips

"hmm, reki?" you mumbled. "did i wake you? im sorry.." reki whispered back

" 's fine." you replied. you sat up on his bed and rubbed your eyes tiredly "you're home a lot earlier than usual" you pointed out

reki nodded with a sigh "yeah.. i didnt feel like staying there any longer" he said. "why? did something happen?" you asked with a look of concern

reki didn't answer just yet, he simply studied your look of genuine concern and forced out his usual grin

"nah! i was just tired, you know?" he said with a chuckle as he sat beside you on the bed "i've been practicing some tricks so i wanted to rest a bit"

you simply nodded and sent him a closed eyed smile "oh, im glad. i thought something bad had happened to you" you said

"but if you're tired, you should go to sleep and rest" you said

reki's smile dropped as he nervously reached out to tangle his fingers with yours. "hey y/n, y-you're not gonna leave me, are you?" he asked with a whimper

your expression morphed into one of disbelief as you stared at your boyfriend with wide eyes. "what? reki, i would never do that! why would you even think about that?" you exclaimed with a frown

"it's just.. you're not gonna leave me for langa or anyone right?" he asked yet again

with furrowed brows, you cupped his cheeks in your hands and forced him to look you in the eye. "im not gonna leave you for langa or anyone else, reki. you're my boyfriend and i love you and only you." you said

"i don't know why you would assume things like these but please stop. you're only gonna hurt yourself if you don't"

reki sniffled and weakly nodded, his tears was flowing down once again, staining his cheeks and your palms with wetness.

"y-yeah.. sorry." he muttered

you frowned and pulled him into your chest, your arms were gently wrapped around him as you rub circles on his back with your hand, and use the other to gently comb through his hair.

"do you wanna talk about it?" you asked in a hushed tone. "no..not really.." reki replied as he wrapped his arms around your waist, trying to close the already nonexistent gap between the two of you.

you leaned against the bed frame, and helped him adjust in a more comfortable position, seeing as he refused to detach himself from you for even a second.

"hmm, i don't know what happened but.. i got some things that i hope could cheer you up." you said with a smile

reki looked up at you, his eyes glinting with curiosity as he reluctantly sat up and untangled his limbs from yours. "what is it?" he asked

you smiled excitedly and reached for your bag, pulling out a separate plastic bag, and presenting it to him. he looked at it in confusion and waited patiently for you to explain.

"i got you some wheels for your boards!" you exclaimed "there's a lot of them in here, so you could use them when you build your skateboards"

reki's eyes widen in surprise as you start rambling about the wheels. "there's lots of different designs and stuff to choose from. plus i even got you stickers for decoration and if you wanna customize your board!"

"i know you like building your own so i didnt buy you a deck." you said "i was hoping i could help you build your next one since i know it must take a lot of effort to make them.."

"i also cleared my schedule for this week so i can accompany you when you practice. its not much but— eh, reki?" you blink in surprise as you watch your boyfriend suddenly breakdown.

"reki, what's wrong? a-are you alright? did i say something wrong??" you asked in a frantic tone

reki shook his head as he let out a strained laugh. he wiped his tears and tackled you on the bed, encaging you in his arms as he smothers your face in kisses

"eh?? reki??" you called out in utter confusion "are you sure you're okay??"

"well, i am now!" reki exclaimed with his usual grin. a light pink blush covered his cheeks as he looked at you with lovestruck eyes.

"honestly.." you let out a sigh of relief as you playfully rolled your eyes at him. "you're so weird, reki" you said as he lightly punched him in the shoulder

"hehe, im just happy you're here." reki admitted with a chuckle "you really brought my spirits up, you know?"

"really? i just got you wheels and stickers though?" you blink cluelessly. reki smiled and placed a quick but loving kiss on your lips. "y/n you might not know it but.."

".. you're seriously all i need."

"you're so cheesy." you rolled your eyes, though a bright red hue had covered your cheeks out of flusteredness.

"onii-chan! y/n-san! keep it down, im sleeping right next to your room!" reki's sister whined out

"oops, sorry!"

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hstyleshoney · 4 years ago

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hey! could u maybe write something where h notices Y/N is distant after he comes back from tour? like she doesn’t feel stable in the relationship anymore bc he’s always away or something like that but he doesn’t want to break up. lmao this is weirdly specific but I really hope u get over your writers block <3

This has been in my drafts for a couple months now. Finally had time to finish it. Sorry it took so long. Hope you like It! <3

WC: 5.3K // angst, fluff

April.

Harry is tired.

He’s only been back in London for two days but he is completely drained. Mentally and physically. All he wants to do is snuggle down on the sofa with his girl and relax. He wants to hold her as close to him as humanly possible; feel her warmth and her smooth skin against his. He wants to spend all night just giggling away at nothing in particular with her because they’re both just so happy to be around one another again and whisper sweet nothings to her all night to let her know how much he missed her and loves her.

He has 21 days home before the next part of his tour kicks off - in Australia. He wants to make the most out of their time together before he has to leave again.

But something is wrong.

She is distant. She’s not letting him hold her, she hardly smiles when she sees him and she’s being off. It’s weird. Harry doesn’t like it.

He noticed it the second he arrived at her flat Monday night. She didn’t come running when he walked through the door. She didn’t talk non-stop for hours like she usually did when they had spent an excessive amount of time apart. She didn’t dig through his suitcase to get a look at all his latest purchases of clothes just because she loved fashion and got excited about all the designer items he owned. It was odd.

They didn’t even have sex.

Harry told himself it was probably just because it was late when he arrived and she was probably just tired. She’d be fine in the morning.

But she is still being as off with him as she was on Monday night, despite the fact that he has been back home in London for a couple days now. Harry doesn’t know what to do. Usually being back home with her brings him comfort and lets him relax after weeks on the road. Now it only has the opposite effect. It’s disheartening. He doesn’t understand it.

On Friday night they go out for dinner with a couple of friends of his. Harry hopes it will lift her spirits but she stays quiet for most of the evening. She is gloomy, not her usual self, and the twinkle in her eyes is missing. It’s awkward and when James shoots him a questioning look from across the table Harry knows that everyone has noticed that something is wrong.

Harry feels sick.

He is worried. Stressed. Anxious. Maybe even a tiny bit angry.

And he is afraid to ask her about it because he has a bad feeling about the whole thing. His gut is telling him that her lack of affection is because of him. He knows he has to ask her about it, but he is holding off for as long as he possibly can. Because asking her about why she is being distant makes it real and he is not ready for her to confirm his suspicions. He is still holding onto the small hope that her mood is because of something that happened at work or with her friends.

But she usually tells him everything and now she hasn’t said anything.

So the only explanation Harry can think of is that he is the reason for her low mood.

And he is not ready to hear it.

He knows her though. He knows she hates upsetting or disappointing others and will avoid it at all costs, even if it means neglecting her own thoughts and feelings until she’s too overwhelmed by it all. She has the kindest heart he has ever met; she is perhaps too kind for her own good.

Which is why he knows he has to ask her and get her to open up about whatever is going on in her head. For her sake but also for his own.

The car ride back to his house after their dinner is, unsurprisingly, quiet and somewhat tense. Harry wants to ask her right there and then why she is being so off, but he also knows he won’t be able to focus on the road if he does. He can hardly focus enough as it is. So he stays quiet and glances over at her whenever he gets the chance, and his heart sinks from how sad she looks.

She doesn’t look at him once though and only rests her head against the window as she watches the other cars around them, picking at the skin around her nails; a sign Harry has learned means that she is either stressed or upset... or both.

Once they make it to his house reality kind of hits him like a ton of bricks and he is one hundred percent sure her mood is because of him now and he is anxious to find out the reason why that is and fearful of where the conversation might lead. What if he loses her? He is not sure his heart can take it.

But she lets him put a hand on her back as they walk into the house and it’s nice to have her close again, she smells so good, and he has to stop himself from falling into her. He wants to wrap his arms around her and never let go.

“I’m gonna go get ready for bed,” she tells him quietly when they get inside, avoiding eye contact, and swiftly disappears up the stairs before he gets the chance to ask her about anything. Harry almost calls her name to stop her but decides to give her a couple of minutes before he approaches her about the elephant in the room.

Also, he needs some time to get his own head together and prepare for whatever might be thrown his way. As scared as he might be there is also a frustration building up inside him from her shutting him out. He had been gone for almost three months and they hadn’t been able to see each other as much as they would’ve liked to. He had been looking forward to just coming home to her and getting a couple of weeks with her before continuing his tour.

There is a lump in his throat as he makes his way up the stairs. His palms are sweaty. His head is spinning. And he realises, for the first time in his life, that he is absolutely terrified about the possibility of losing someone. Her. He has been in love before. He has gone through break-ups. But none of them have made him feel like this. It’s like someone is suffocating him.

And the break-up hasn’t even happened yet. He doesn’t even know if it will happen. He just knows that the girl who has his whole heart in his hands is being distant and won’t talk to him after weeks apart. It’s not a good sign.

She is still in the bathroom when he comes upstairs. The door is open and he takes a few seconds to just watch her, leaning against the doorframe with a fond look on his face. He can’t take his eyes off her. Her hair is pushed back by her pink fuzzy headband and her face is free from all the makeup she had previously worn. She is beautiful, he thinks and closes his eyes for a second to savor the small moment.

It’s just so familiar. He has seen her get ready for bed a hundred times before and he never gets tired of it. It’s the simplest thing but it makes him feel home.

She feels like home.

And then she spots him by the door and a small squeal escapes her lips which brings him back. “Bloody hell Harry” she breathes out and puts a hand over her chest. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he replies and shoots her a weak smile.

“I’m almost done, just give me a couple minutes and then the bathroom is all yours” she says and picks up one of her many skin care products to continue her routine. She speaks fast and avoids his gaze. Harry clears his throat awkwardly.

“Actually,” he starts. “I was wondering if we could talk?”

She freezes for a brief moment and Harry almost feels bad. Silence falls over them again and it’s all the confirmation he needs to know that whatever is going on has something to do with him. Harry is almost certain she’s going to tell him she’s too tired to talk or come up with another excuse, but eventually she nods.

“Yes,” she murmurs. “Of course.”

“Thank you,” he nods as well and tries to give her another small smile to ease the tension between them but it’s useless. The knot in his stomach weighs him down too much. “I’ll let you finish and you can just come find me, yeah?”

Harry waits for her in the bedroom. He sits down on the bed before standing up almost just as fast. Then he sits back down again. His throat feels dry and his heart is beating so hard inside his chest it feels like it might burst. He’s trying to come up with what to say to her but as soon as she walks in his mind goes completely blank. He wants to believe that he is wrong, that it’s just a big misunderstanding, but her sad eyes make it hard.

She looks so soft and small as she takes a seat next to him and Harry has to fight the urge to just pull her into his arms. It’s strange and he doesn’t understand why she is being so distant. Everything was fine between them before he left for his tour and as far as he knows nothing happened while he was away.

“Have I done something wrong?” he begins.

She sighs and looks down at her hands, still doing her best to avoid eye contact.

“I’m sorry H,” she says and her voice cracks a little at the end. Harry feels sick again. “I know I've been acting weird. Distant. I’m sorry.”

“Will you please look at me?” he begs because he can’t stand her shutting him out like she is. It’s never happened before. So when she looks up at him with tears in her eyes both relief and pangs of agony washes over him. It kills him; fills him with worry. Harry doesn’t know how he is going to get through this. This wasn’t how he had planned his return home. Far from. “What’s going on?”

“I love you,” she tells him and swallows thickly.

Harry nods and tries to stop his head from spinning so much.

“And I love you.”

“I... I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

There it is. He knew it was coming but hearing the words come out of her mouth is a punch to the face. He doesn’t know how to respond to it. Silence falls between them just as heavy raindrops start to fall against the windowsill outside.

“Okay,” is all he can say.

“I just - I hate missing my best friend every single day.” A tear rolls down her cheek and she’s quick to wipe it away, taking a shaky breath. “I feel very alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Harry says and reaches out to take her soft hands into his, holding them tight. She gives him a sad smile and laces her fingers with his. He never wants to let go.

“I know,” she replies softly. “But it feels like I am. I come home to an empty flat, have dinner on my own and watch some stupid reality show to kill time. I can’t even call you whenever I want to because you’re on stage or busy with something else. I feel like I’m just constantly waiting for you. It feels impossible for us to build a life together.”

Harry wants to tell her it’ll change. That it’ll get better. That he’ll be better. But it’s a promise he can’t make because he’s leaving again, soon. He still has shows to do in Australia, North- and South America. He still has a tour to do - and hopefully more tours in the future as well.

And he loves his job. It’s his dream. He is so grateful for everything he gets to do.

But he has never hated his job as much as he does in that moment right there, and he hates himself for that too.

“I’m here now,” he says weakly and tightens his fingers around hers.

“Yeah, I know,” she croaks and when she cups his cheek in the hand he’s not holding Harry can’t stop himself from leaning into her touch. “But you’re leaving again, what happens then? We’ve been in the same time zone and country now for three months and barely had the chance to talk - what happens when you’re on the other side of the world?”

“I’ll make time for you. I promise,” Harry tells her and blinks away his own tears that are threatening to fall.

“But you won’t be here,” she replies sadly and pulls away from him. Harry feels cold as soon as her hands leave his. He wants to scream but there is no air in his lungs. He’s losing her and he doesn't know what to do or say to stop it. He’s helpless.

And when a strangled sob escapes her he thinks his heart might shatter into a million pieces. It’s the worst sound he has ever heard and it kills him knowing it’s because of him. “I hate this,” she cries. “I’m so sorry Harry. I’m being so fucking selfish.”

“Stop,” he huffs and angles his body so he can move himself closer to her. Desperate to fix whatever is happening between them before it’s too late.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffles and bows her head, avoiding his gaze. “I don’t want to make you feel bad because I know how much you love what you do and I would never ask you to stop. I love watching you on stage, it’s my favorite thing in the world... but I just- I just don’t know if I’m happy like this. I don’t like the person I become when you’re away.”

“What can I do?” Harry begs even though he knows there’s not a lot he can do right now. “I’m not losing you.” He takes her hands into his again, running his thumb over her knuckles. “I love you.”

“I love you too Harry, so much.” Her voice trembles as she speaks and Harry feels his whole stomach drop as the next few words fall from her lips. He’s sure he is going to pass out. “Sometimes love isn’t enough though, is it?”

“What are you saying?” he whispers as he tightens his hold on her hands. She looks up at him, her glossy eyes meeting his green ones, and Harry can no longer hold back his own tears.

“I don’t know yet,” she admits, her voice low and thick. Harry tries to think of something to say that will change her mind but his head is swirling with a million different things all at once. He can’t think straight. He only knows he refuses to lose her. He won’t lose her. So he tells her that again.

“I’m not losing you.”

That night they fall asleep on different sides of the bed with their backs facing each other and Harry might just break.

May 19th.

Harry Styles ❤️ 11:34 AM We just landed in Australia. I wish you were here. I love you. xxx

May 31st.

Harry Styles ❤️ 5:47 PM Last show is done. I’ll be home on Tuesday. Let’s talk then. xxx

June.

She is tired.

The last three weeks have been brutal. Or, actually, the whole month has been brutal. Ever since she told Harry about her insecurities regarding their relationship she felt like her whole life had just fallen apart. She couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat. Nothing.

She went to work and when the day was over she went straight home and watched every episode she could find of ‘The Great British Bake Off’ to numb her mind. Her co-workers express their worry when they see her come to work with the same outfit for the fourth day in a row, greasy hair and big dark circles under her eyes. They tell her to take a few days off.

But she doesn’t.

Because she needs work as a distraction. She can’t just sit at home and think about everything that happened between her and Harry before he left for Australia. The morning after their talk they hardly said a word to each other and she could see that he was hurt. It killed her knowing it was because of her.

It was just that the European tour had been harder on her than she ever could've imagined. Other than the London shows she had only been able to go to the one in Manchester and the one in Paris, but that was it. She couldn’t get more time off to go see him and whenever she finished work at the end of a long day and had time to call him he was already on stage or about to be.

They hardly spoke and it made her sad. The reality of how different their lives were slapped her hard in the face that first leg of his tour. So hard she couldn’t bring herself to be happy when he came back home to London, because she knew he was leaving again.

She figured that maybe she just needed some time to get used to having him around again and that things would go back to how they usually were after a day or so. They didn’t. Instead all she could think about was the fact that he was leaving again and how every hour that passed was an hour of their time together that was gone.

She had been stupid to think he wouldn’t notice.

When he asked her to talk she knew that she would no longer be able to keep things to herself. It all just came crashing down.

She hasn’t seen Harry in almost a month now and her whole body is aching for his touch again. At the same time, she knows she has no one but herself to blame for her heartache.

She loves him. She loves him so fucking much.

She just doesn’t know if she can handle the distance. She doesn’t know if she can handle only speaking to him through text messages because of the time difference and/or because their schedules don't add up. She doesn’t know if she can handle all the rumors circulating on social media whenever he has been seen with someone she doesn’t recognize. She’s become jealous and she doesn’t like it.

But she loves him.

She knows in her heart that he is The one.

And maybe that’s why she is so fucking terrified of him leaving, because what if he never comes back to her?

She’s not sure she’s going to be able to handle it.

So when she told him she wasn’t sure if she could be with him anymore she did it so she could leave first, but then he looked at her like she had just crushed his entire soul. After spending every night for the last couple weeks replaying the moment over and over again in her head she realises she won’t ever be able to leave him. She doesn’t want to.

And now he is coming back again, after spending two weeks back home in Holmes Chapel with his family to clear his head and two weeks down under in Australia doing what he loves most, and she is still terrified. Because he might show up and tell her he’s had enough of her games and leave with her heart.

She takes that Tuesday off from work and cleans her entire flat, anxiously waiting for Harry to show up. He texted her earlier to let her know he would arrive in London by noon and would be coming over, to which she only replied an ‘okay’ because she was overthinking and didn’t know what else to say.

They never officially said the words “we are over” so she has no idea if they were still together or broken up, and she didn’t want to say something that could be misinterpreted in any way.

Then she gets another text from him asking her if she could come over to him instead because he is too jet lagged and wants to just go home and have a shower. And she convinces herself it’s only an excuse from him. An excuse to get her to come over and get all her stuff she has left laying around his house the last year, so he can remove any traces of her ever being in his life.

She still tells him she’ll be there in an hour.

That hour ends up being one of the worst hours of her life. She’s an anxious mess as she tries to get ready and ends up spilling her coffee all over her shirt and the freshly mopped floor. Her favorite cup with a small dachshund painted on it, the one Harry got her after their first date when she told she was obsessed with dachshunds, falls to the floor and breaks in half. She has a mini breakdown over it all.

She’s also about two seconds away from running over an old lady by the crossroads leading up to Harry’s house.

Then when she arrives at Harry’s house she has forgotten the code to get through his gate. She has another breakdown thinking he has changed it because he doesn’t want her to know what it is anymore.

Turns out she only missed a number.

Before she knows she is knocking on his door and just stands there waiting for him to come let her in. Normally she wouldn’t knock and just waltz right in but it didn’t feel right this time. She isn’t sure if she is even allowed to anymore.

So she waits.

When Harry finally opens the door and she is face to face with him again she feels like she might actually collapse. He looks tired, eyes puffy and cheeks rosy, but he still smiles when he sees her. And even though he has his grey hoodie up she can still see the little hair clip on top of his head that’s holding back his damp curls from falling in his face.

“Hi,” she breathes out and clasps her hands together in front of her because she doesn’t know what else to do. Her heart is beating painfully hard inside her chest.

“Hi,” Harry says and takes a step forward as if he is about to pull her into a hug, but he stops himself and takes a step back again. They stand in silence for what feels like an eternity, just taking each other in, before Harry clears his throat and opens the door a little wider for her. “Come in.”

As she passes him she catches a whiff of his perfume and it’s so familiar and calming that she forgets for a moment that they’ve been in a downward spiral for the last month.

But she is quickly reminded of the situation when Harry awkwardly leads her to the lounge and they sit down on opposite ends of the sofa. Her fingers tremble a little as she pushes a couple strands of hair behind her ear. The room is quiet and cold. The whole house smells like detergent and soap, it always did when he hadn’t been home for a while, and she hates it.

“So, um, how was Australia?” she asks, keeping her eyes on the bright colorful painting that hangs on the wall above Harry’s head and avoiding his green ones that are staring her down. She’s positive he can hear how fast her heart is beating.

“It was alright,” Harry answers and tilts his head forward a little, brows drawn together, as he tries to get her to focus on him rather than the painting behind him.

“Good,” she mumbles and takes a shaky breath, still avoiding his eyes. Harry sighs deeply and she shifts uncomfortably in her seat. This isn’t like them. Far from. She wants to crawl into his arms; wants to feel the comfort and safety he always brings her when he holds her. Her whole body is screaming for his touch again, but her head stops her - what if he didn’t want to hold her anymore?

“We can’t go on like this,” he tells her then and her blood instantly runs cold.

This is it.

Harry is going to tell her he can’t be with her anymore and it’s her own fault. She pushed him away.

“Okay,” she whispers. Tears are already welling up in her eyes and she is quick to blink them away before they fall. But her vision is still blurry. Her throat feels tight and dry. The room is closing on her and she has to wipe her clammy hands on her pants to make sure she’s still in her own body. A huge part of her wants to run, although she is not too sure her legs will carry her. This is what she gets for pushing him away though she supposes.

“I need to know if you’re leaving or not.”

She snaps her head in his direction as soon as the words come out of his mouth.

“What?”

She’s not sure she’s heard him right.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Harry continues and a small curl falls out of his little hair clip as he shakes his head. “I need answers from you. These past few weeks - I can’t... I need to know where we stand. I need to know if I’ve lost you.”

She blinks.

“Harry, I-“ She can't find her words. She had been so sure that he was going to tell her he was leaving her, that he was tired of her selfishness and wanted nothing more to do with her. Now her whole body is frozen as her mind tries to catch up with what Harry just told her. He looks worn out, sad, and she feels so incredibly stupid. Guilty. This mess is all her fault. “No.”

Harry inhales sharply through his nose and gives her a short nod.

“Alright.” His lips are pressed together, jaw tense, as he averts his gaze to something other than her face, refusing to look at her any longer.

“No Harry, I mean, you haven’t,” she is quick to say when she realises he had misunderstood her words. Her head is spinning. There is so much she needs to say but she doesn’t even know where to start. “You haven’t lost me. I didn’t think- I thought you were leaving me.”

“What?”

And just like that it’s all just too much. The last couple weeks washes over her as soon Harry looks at her again and she notices how glossy his eyes are. She’s overwhelmed.

“Oh, I’m so sorry H,” she cries and hides her face in her hands, finally letting her tears spill over and run hot down her cheeks. “I’ve been so fucking stupid.”

She lets a sob rip from her throat and buries her face deeper into her hands, wishing she could just disappear. Guilt is eating away at her conscience knowing that Harry had walked around thinking she was leaving him while having to go out on stage and put on a good show for thousands of fans. She should’ve talked to him before he left. She should’ve replied to his texts. She feels like the worst fucking person in the entire world.

“Heey, noo, don’t cry.” Harry moves over to crouch down in front of her. His touch burns through the thick denim of her jeans when he puts his arms down on either side of her on the sofa, his thumbs rubbing small circles on her thighs. “Talk to me, Love.”

“I’m so stupid,” she repeats.

“You’re not,” Harry says softly and gently pushes some of her hair away from her face, tapping her fingers lightly to get her to get her to remove her hands from her face and look at him again. When she peeks at him through her fingers she’s met by his small dimple. He takes the opportunity to carefully pry her hands away completely and holds them in his own. “There we go,” he murmurs. “S’just me. You can talk to me.”

“I’m scared,” she admits and runs her fingers over his rings. Harry frowns but doesn’t say anything, just lets her take her time to gather her scattered mind. It’s hard though when he is finally so close again and all she can think about is how good he smells and how familiar and soothing it is to have his hand in hers again. “I don’t know - I guess I just worry that you’ll get tired of me or feel like I’m just holding you back or that you’ll meet someone much more exciting than me while you’re away. I’m terrified that you’re going to wake up one day and realise I’m just some loser who lives a boring life that you actually have no interest of being a part of... And I don’t think my heart could take it.” Her voice cracks with the last part.

Harry holds her hand a little tighter in his.

“I don’t think my heart could take it either,” he tells her.

And even though he is right in front of her, holding her hands in his, she can’t stop the feeling of hopelessness coming over her again. She doesn’t want to lose him. Refuses to be the one who leaves.

But he is going away again soon and she doesn’t know what she is supposed to do when he does. The issues of her feeling alone and insecure are still going to be there, and what happens then? Is she going to put them both through another tortures couple weeks again, where neither of them know where they stand? She can’t do that to him.

“Do you think we can make it work?” she asks him and presses her lips together to stop herself from letting another sob escape her.

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully and swallows hard. “But isn’t that part of it? Not knowing. Life is far too short to worry about what might happen in the future. There is alway going to be some bad and some good. The only thing I know for certain right here, right now, is that I love you and that I want to be with you. I don’t want anyone else.”

“Neither do I.”

Harry smiles.

“Okay then,” he says softly and moves himself a little closer to her. “Maybe we can just leave it like that then? And we’ll just figure it out as we go.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.”

There's a moment of silence and she wants to stay in that moment forever. Just the two of them. It’s all she wants. Always. To just be with him.

And when Harry stands up and simultaneously pulls her with him she falls into his arms. His body is so warm against hers and as he grabs her chin and tilts her head back so he can press his soft lips to hers she knows that things will work out between them.

She loves him too much to not at least fight for it.

It will by no means be easy and she knows that when he leaves again in a couple weeks that he is going to take a piece of her heart with him.

But she also knows that she has a piece of his heart with her at all times, and that knowledge fills the small void inside her chest for many years to come.

Let me know what you think! <3

#Harry Styles fanfiction #Harry Styles fanfic #Harry Styles oneshot #Harry Styles angst #Harry Styles fluff #requested

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itsbeaconhillsbaby · 4 years ago

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shatter us || tom holland x reader

a/n: hello gorgeous people. this is not the cutesy road trip fic that I have planned - the follow up for a luminous love. but instead just a little sprinkle, little dash of some angst for your casual sunday. yikes, I hope you all still enjoy (still ends fluffy bc I'm not a heathen...yet)

since I love hearing your thoughts so much, is there anything you’d personally like to see from me, alongside what i’m working on? hit me up and I might just work on some fic for you, got a full week off work so let me know! as always, stay wonderful and come chat! x

word count: 2166 warnings: we do have a swear and some smashed glass, some sad thoughts but nothing too dark or dangerous - very tame summary: emotional outbursts lead to some much needed conversations

6:10.

There was a lack of chirping birds that morning. The sun stayed behind the clouds, keeping itself out of view. The air cold and stale. Sheets were pulled taught at either end of the bed. Two bodies, usually yearning to be held in each other’s embrace clutching instead to their designated edges.

You were fearful to exhale your breath, one small movement and this frozen moment could all come crashing down around you. As though you were stood at the very edge of a precipice, toes hanging over the side. One tiny blow away from tumbling into a dark abyss.

Before you thought your chest was going to explode from the inside, you felt the springs next to you dip only slightly. The signs of someone moving.

He hadn’t moved all night. You wondered if he’d managed to catch any sleep at all before you felt the bed dip further as he untangled his legs from the sheets, heading into the en suite bathroom.

You reached a hand out from your cocoon, your phone lighting up as you tilted it towards you.

10 missed calls.

15 texts

You’d told your best friend that you’d screwed everything up, unwilling to reveal what happened before you let your tears lull to into a restless sleep.

You weren’t sure at what time Tom joined you. Sighing, you heard the click of your phone locking as you lay it back down.

Tom comes back out of the bathroom, slowing slightly as he sees you curled up in the corner of the bed instead of star-fished or snuggling into his pillow as you usually did when he left the room – resulting in playfighting or cuddles.

“I think we need to talk.”

His voice was rough and scratchy. You slid yourself up against the headboard, pulling your jumper sleeves over your hands and nodding in agreement. You couldn’t speak yet, you weren’t sure you knew how. Words refusing to form as your stomach churned.

“Okay, I’ll see you downstairs then.” He grabs a hoodie of his own before leaving the room, you could hear him moving through the flat.

You take a few deep breaths, taking note of the room around you. glancing over the space you had shared for the past year and a half. Something told you this could be the last morning you’d wake up here.

Exhaling, you slide your feet onto the golden wood crossing the room to reach the bathroom. You splash water over your face, fluffy towel ready to catch the droplets before finishing up.

“Here we go,” you mumble to yourself as you push against the sink counter and head for the kitchen.

////

Tom fills up the kettle, unfocussed eyes staring into the distance. He put it back on its stand before flicking down the switch.

A hand ran through his messy bed head of curls. This was all so wrong, all of it. He told you that he wanted to talk but as he routinely made two teas, he didn’t have a clue what he was going to say. But he began filming in four days and you both had to fix this tension between you. For the first time, you were both unsure of what the outcome would be.

Taking a small brush and pan over to the wall he brushes up the broken glass, hearing it tinkle as he gathers it into the pan, releasing it into the bin, frustrated at his own outburst the previous night.

He’s against the counter stirring the two mugs when you walk in. He motions to the sofa.

He takes you in as you stand in front of him, shyer and more nervous that he’d ever seen you. He hated that you felt like that. Drowning in one of his sweatshirts and a pair of his cotton shorts, your face was tinged pink and he hoped that you hadn’t been crying in the short time it took to make your teas.

You gave a small smile of thanks at the steaming mug he slid across to you before heading to the sofa. You rolled your shoulders, caressing the mug between your hands - letting the heat warm them.

“I’m so sorry-“

You both blurt out simultaneously. His eyes twinkle slightly, as he huffed out a slight chuckle.

“Well that’s a good start at least.”

You nod, stifling a nervous laugh, mouth upturned. He offers you to go first. You take a sip of your tea, letting it soothe your nauseous stomach.

Swallowing, you trace your finger around the rim of your mug. Closing your eyes for a single moment before staring into his, so wide and filled with hurt.

Last night played on repeat in your head.

“Stop saying you love me as a response for when things get too hard - it’s just words Tom! Just because you love me doesn’t mean that I feel loved by you!”

Tom’s mouth fell open, eyes wide as he stood transfixed on you. You stared at him in shock, completely taken aback by your own outburst. The room was blanketed in an unforgiving silence, your voice wobbling at the building honesty that had come tumbling out.

“Wow. I offered to fly you out to be with me before filming officially started for fucks sake! You declined! Was that not enough for you?! Does that not show you I love you? My career is important and I’m sorry that annoys you!”

“That is not what I meant Tom, and you know it.”

His brows furrow, eyes darkening with anger. You wanted to straighten them out with your fingers, lightly gliding over the uncontrollable hairs and press a feathery light kiss in the space between them. Something you usually did when he was tense or frustrated.

“Please, enlighten me then.”

“Fly across the other side of the world to do what?! Sit in silence in a room with you as you read over scripts with Harry. Sit alone in a room whilst you meet the cast and team, stay away so you can go for your lush dinners and lunches. And then fly out when things get underway, that’s unless I want to sit in your trailer day in and day out. I love you Tom and I support you and I think you’re brilliant - I always will think that. But being your hidden girlfriend is exhausting and lonely, and I don’t know if I can do it!”

You’ve never been this vulnerable with Tom before. You’d never let on before how hard it could be sometimes being his girlfriend, how utterly alone you felt. How much of a stranger you felt in regards to Tom and parts of his life.

“Then don’t! If you hate it so much, then don’t be my girlfriend then. Problem solved!”

You gasp slightly, standing completely rigid. Heart pounding in your ears, heat rising through your entire body. You can feel the moisture building behind your eyes, trying so hard to keep it at bay.

“Fine. Wow. Easy fix for the golden boy, got it.”

And with that you turn on your heel and head straight into the bedroom. Door slamming behind you.

Tom throws his beer bottle at the opposite wall. Hands going straight up to his face as he let out a cry of frustration. Glass shards littering the floor.

“Fuck!”

////

“I’m so sorry for saying what I said. It didn’t come out right and I don’t know, I think I was just being dramatic and anno-“

Tom cuts you off with a shake of his head, resting one hand on your leg.

“Don’t do that. Please don’t do that. My response was completely irrational, but you...you were honest and hurt and valid. Do not deny your emotions to make me feel better, that’s not going to fix this. You know I love you, you said it yourself, but you don’t feel loved - and that’s on me.”

You bite the inside of your lip, looking down into your swirling cup. Your heart was beating so fast, it was making you feel almost dizzy.

“I feel pathetic, please let’s just forget it happened Tom.”

Tom takes the cup out of your hand, planting it on the coffee table in front of the couch. He pulls your legs that little bit closer, your body moving forward, closing the gap between you both.

“I can’t forget it. I’ve been playing it on repeat all night. Please just be honest with me. I want to listen. I want to understand.”

You exhale a shaky sigh,

“Sometimes it’s just so much harder than I ever thought it would be, Tom. I love how much you adore your job, you inspire me every single day as I watch you inspire millions of people. but sometimes I feel like an outsider looking in on your life. Instead of feeling like someone you want to share your life with, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hate that.”

He nods, his forehead creasing slightly as he takes in your words, and presses for you to continue,

“And take away all that comes with your job. On the rare days when it’s just me and you, you make me feel so alive. I feel needed and wanted and loved. So loved. But it’s not enough for me to have a few gulps of that feeling. God, it sounds so selfish. I hear it from my own mouth and I sound ridiculous.”

You take a pause. wishing for your voice to straighten out. For that wobble to stop as you can see the concern on Tom’s face rising,

“Maybe there’s been a reason we’ve kept it a secret for so long, because you and I both know that the minute this gets out...everything is going to crumble beneath us, and I’m the one not going to be able to handle it.”

You let out a shaky breath, sniffling as you wipe your eyes with your sleeve.

When you didn’t start up again, Tom gave a deep sigh, before pressing ahead,

“I’ve been doing this all wrong. I thought keeping you out of things would protect you, we agreed on that being the best option. And in the beginning it was. The sneaking around, the constant phone calls, video calls, surprise visits - we did it all.”

You nod in agreement. Your heart sinking. Even though you’d brought it on yourself, letting your insecurities and loneliness take over - you still weren’t ready for the inevitable goodbye that was coming your way.

“But we’ve grown individually, and our relationship has grown. And yeah, there’s a part of me who still wants to keep you all to myself, I know what press and fans can be like. But you’re right.”

You look up at him through wet eyelashes. He catches a tear with his thumb, wiping it away from your cheek,

“I’m not losing you to my own fear. And you’re not losing me to yours.”

“Wait, what?” you whisper, confused.

“You need to talk to me. You need to tell me when I’m not pulling my weight in this relationship, when you’re feeling low like this. Sometimes I do get stuck in my own world a little...and you’re the one suffering for it.”

“So. You do still want me as your girlfriend?” More traitorous tears fall from your eyes, your body relaxing and therefore no longer willing to keep them at bay.

“Oh my god I can’t believe I said that. Of course, I do! There’s no still wanting about it, I’ve always wanted you. Never questioned it for a second. The real question is, do you want to make this public? I want this to be your choice. It’s going to be crazy, but I promise you, I’ll be beside you every single step of the way. I won’t make you feel like you’re on your own again, I promise. Or, if you feel like it’s too much…then we figure something else out.”

He cups the side of your face, thumb still trailing after the tear tracks.

“I’m just scared that it’ll break us, Tom. But we can’t keep going as we are.”

He nods in understanding,

“I won’t let it break us. You have me, all of me, for however long you want.”

You pushed your forehead against his shoulder, his hands coming up to cradle the back of your head as you curl into him.

He can feel your body quivering against him as you finally let yourself feel all the emotions you’d gone through in the past 12 hours, feelings you’d been hiding for far longer than that.

“I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise. I think we needed this. Now we can be better, work harder on loving each other properly. Communicate.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” You whisper into his chest, “I thought I’d ruined everything.”

He squeezes his eyes clothes. pressing his lips to the top of your head, releasing soft kisses in between every couple of words,

“No, you’ve not ruined anything. All you’ve done is remind me how much I truly love you. And every day I promise I’m going to show you just how much.”

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurbs #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland angst #tom holland fic #this is my first time delving into the angst side of this and I hope all the pieces connect and its got a natural feel to it #hopefully not too ott #agh the stress #lisa writes

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 4 years ago

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IOTA Reviews: Guiltrip

So, my week has been hell. In addition to working night and day on final essays for my classes, I've been really busy at work lately, and the second COVID vaccine shot really took a lot out of me this week. And that's not even getting into the bureaucratic nonsense that comes with applying for the MTEL which is slowly making me wonder if I actually want to teach in the first place.

But, despite all that, there was a single light of hope this week that almost made it all worth it.

STAR WARS: THE BAD BATCH, BABY!

OH MY GOD, THIS SHOW IS AMAZING! I ALWAYS LOVED THE CLONE-CENTRIC EPISODES OF THE CLONE WARS, AND NOW WE GET AN ENTIRE SHOW ABOUT AN ELITE TEAM OF THEM? KICKASS! AND IT TAKES PLACE AFTER ORDER 66 WITH GRAND MOFF TARKIN AS THE MAIN VILLAIN? SWEET MOTHER OF GEORGE LUCAS, I CAN'T WAIT! I DON'T EVEN CARE THAT THEY TRADED IN THE COOL SNIPER CLONE FOR SOME LITTLE GIRL CLONE, I ALREADY WANT TO SEE MORE THAN THE TWO EPISODES WE GOT SO FAR! GOD, I LOVE THIS SHOW!

Oh yeah, there was also a new episode of Miraculous Ladybug that aired on the same day too, I guess. It was pretty good. Hell of a lot better than the past three episodes I've sat through.

Let's get into the fifth (chronologically the eleventh) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Guiltrip

We start off in the middle of class where we see Marinette looking at Adrien lovingly.

Because the writers are still trying to push the Love Square on us as if they were trying to sell us some death sticks. And yes, expect a few Star Wars jokes in this review. This episode did premiere on May 4th after all.

Rose suddenly gets a headache, and asks to go to the nurse, saying that “Miss Dora” is back. While walking there with Marinette, she explains that it's a code name she gives when her head hurts and can tell Miss Bustier without letting everyone know. She probably felt a name like “Maya Grain” would just give it away.

At lunch, Juleka gets a text that really upsets her, so Marinette tries to cheer her up. Keyword being “tries”.

Okay, yes, this is referencing the previous scene, where Rose refers to a certain snack at the nurse's office she eats to recover her health whenever “Miss Dora” visits called “Mr. Coffee”, but it's just bad timing. I get Marinette has a habit of not reading the room, but why did she have to use the term “Miss Dora” when she knows what it's being used for? Sure, she doesn't know that Juleka knows, but did she really have to say “Miss Dora”? She couldn't have used any other name instead? It's like making a chemotherapy joke when you just found out someone close to you has cancer. Even putting the context aside, what is this joke's punchline supposed to be? That “Miss Dora” will visit Juleka if she eats her lunch? Even by the humor standards of this show, the joke fails spectacularly.

Marinette bumps into Adrien, and although she stutters a little with a little exaggerated body movement, she does manage to take things seriously so she can have an actual conversation with Adrien about Juleka, who wants to be alone. She explains that the text she got was from Rose, who was sent to the hospital because of her sickness, and the entire class finds out because Marinette texted everyone to come to check on Juleka.

Goddamn it, Marinette. I usually defend you for getting screwed over by the writing, but you really aren't on your A game today.

Juleka explains that Rose got this sickness when she was little, which naturally worried everyone else. To make things worse, Juleka also says Rose made her swear to not tell anyone about her to worry her. Everyone else swears to not let Rose know that they know, and the act of support is actually enough to drive away an Akuma targeted at Juleka.

Unfortunately, nobody ever said anything about being overly affectionate to Rose, so everyone in the class tries to do things for Rose like carry her bags, giving her a pillow to sit on in school, helping her take notes, letting her cut in line at lunch, and giving her apples.

All of this makes Juleka remorsefully tell Rose that she told everyone else, which worries her because she hates all the special treatment, so she goes to tell them all about her illness. While they seem to accept her, the next time she sneezes, they overreact like, uh... how can I make this joke in a tasteful way?

Rose says she's had enough with all the treatment, which makes Juleka feel guilty. In the bathroom, she gets akumatized into Reflekta (yet again) with a Sentimonster named Guiltrip. And then Reflekta immediately gets sucked into the Sentimonster, which will cause it to go out of control. Nice job, Shadowmoth.

While it might not look like much, this is easily my favorite Sentimonster by far. Granted, that's not saying much, given all we've gotten so far for Sentimonsters is bootleg Mothra, sentient candy, a robotic doll, a frog with a body count, yet another evil doppelganger, and an eye, but my point still stands. Rather than actually confront the heroes, it's basically a portal to another world where it can trap people in bubbles that represent their regrets and despair, and turn them into copies of Reflekta.

It's a really strong metaphor which reminds me of the villains from Kamen Rider Wizard, who tried to drive their victims to despair in order to turn them into monsters. Ironically, that show's main villain is also some asshole in white who was risking countless lives just to save someone close to him. In general, the area inside of Guiltrip is visually stunning, and easily the highlight of the episode. It's just so surreal, and it really sets the tone the episode's going for.

Ladybug and Cat Noir arrive on the scene, and also get sucked into the portal, seeing some of the victims before they also start to fall into despair. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but this is one of the few times where Angstdrien Depreste is thematically appropriate. Cat Noir points out that if they had simply defeated Shadowmoth by now, none of this would be happening, which is a good point. He even attempts to kill himself using his Cataclysm, but unlike RWBY, they don't try to glorify it.

This also leads to Rose managing to fight off Guiltrip's powers with her optimistic personality (so I guess you could say she's A New Hope for the heroes), inspiring Ladybug to compliment Cat Noir. While I'd normally be pissed that this is yet another way to boost his ego, it does fit in with the episode's theme of positive thinking. Well, with the exception of one line where she points out what her time as Ladybug would be like without Cat Noir...

BEING A SUPERHERO IS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE FUN. Yes, there are certain benefits to being a superhero, but it is not a fun game you play when lives are on the line. Why are the writers so dedicated to validate Cat Noir's beliefs that being a hero is just a fun extracurricular activity? Has there ever been a superhero who shares a similar mentality and isn't treated like a complete jackass?

So Ladybug and Cat Noir break free of the bubbles, and after summoning her Lucky Charm, a pickaxe, Ladybug realizes she needs more positivity to break free from Guiltrip. As such, she pulls out the Pig Miraculous and gives it to Rose, who transforms into Pigella. Funny how she forgot her little headache condition when she bangs her head like a death metal singer while transforming.

The design is... wait, she's not wearing a skin-tight jumpsuit? She's actually wearing something different?

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Yeah, I really like the Pigella design. There's a good mix of pink and white, and the skirt really brings the whole thing together. It really reflects Rose's optimistic and bubbly personality.

So the three heroes find Reflekta, who has been consumed by tons of bubbles. Pigella uses her superpower, Gift, to show Reflekta what her heart wants the most right now. So it's basically a more specific version of the Fox Miraculous? In fact, what do pigs have to do with optimism?

Whatever reason, it works, which helps Reflekta to break free of Guiltrip's influence, letting Ladybug de-evilize her. But because we need to have a fight scene in this episode, the Reflekta clones start to attack the heroes, but Ladybug uses the pickaxe to climb out of Guiltrip and purify the Amok.

So Rose hands the Pig Miraculous back to Ladybug, and the episode ends with everyone treating Rose normally in class, realizing she isn't as delicate as she thinks she is.

So yeah, I really like this episode. Aside from a few stupid things Marinette said this episode, I honestly don't have a lot of problems with the episode here.

I also really like the lesson this episode is going for. It doesn't shame Rose for rejecting the help, and it doesn't shame the class for being to overprotective of Rose either. It tries to find a middle ground, which is an important lesson to learn, not just for dealing with a loved one who has an illness, but for disabled people and other kinds of situations where someone has a disadvantage. Even as much as I ragged on Marinette for the text, it's clear that she isn't the only one to blame. In fact, nobody really gets blamed for anything this episode. It's more of a misunderstanding, and both sides find a balance on how to treat Rose.

It's overall a really good episode, and the second best one so far this season. And you know what? This episode taught me the importance of staying positive, so with that in mind, maybe I shouldn't be dreading “Queen Banana” when it comes out this week.

Wait, what? It got pushed back two weeks? Oh, THANK GOD! Now I feel like dancing. And I know exactly what song to dance to...

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#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug salt #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrien agreste #cat noir #chat noir #rose lavillant #pigella #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #hawk moth #shadowmoth #shadow moth #juleka couffaine #reflekta

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evafrechette · 4 years ago

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I’ll take one large cock..err I mean Coke please

↠ yoongi x jungkook | smut | drivethruworker!jk | 18+ | 2.7k

↠ Summary: It’s been the shift from hell and all Jungkook wants to do is go home, jerk off and get some well deserved rest. But the attractive brunette with the deep, raspy voice that gets his cock twitching has just pulled into his drive thru and Jungkook’s night is about to get even crazier.

↠ Warnings: masturbation, frottage, car sex, awkward crushes, public sex, handjobs, yoongi hates mcdonalds but likes jungkook.

"Welcome to McDonald's, can I take your order please." Jungkook's voice cracked out of the decades old drive thru speaker while he absentmindedly twirled a straw between his tattooed fingers.

"Uh yeah just a Large Cheeseburger Combo. Uhhh and make the drink an Iced Americano please." Jungkook dropped the straw, which rolled along the ground towards the "broken" ice cream machine. He knew that low raspy voice, the one that was slightly slurred making it hard to understand exactly what was said. It came out of the cutest pouty mouth Jungkook had ever seen.

"Uhh oh y-yes, okay, please drive up to the next window." He hastily brushed his hands through his inky black waves and straightened out the hat that sat lazily on top of his head. Jungkook had a crush. A huge crush. The kind of crush your friends and family would mock you about for years to come. The cutie with the deep voice had been visiting Jungkook's McDonalds drive thru for nearly a year now, always ordering the same thing - a Large Cheeseburger Combo with an Iced Americano. He was the prettiest man Jungkook had ever seen; a soft round button nose, the most breathtakingly stunning feline shaped eyes, pale skin that reminded him of a shimmering full moon, and those lips, small, pouty and Jungkook was dying to know what they would look like wrapped around his cock.

He tapped his foot nervously against the brown tile floor as he tried to push the thought out of his head. He was at work he shouldn't be thinking about his cock and the sweet, pretty little mouth he dreamt of most nights taking him so deep into his throat that tears fell from his eyes as he gagged and moaned around him.

Jungkook let out a small squeal when he noticed the man's car roll up to his window. Hesitantly he opened the sliding glass, "Hi, umm your order isn't ready yet, please park up over there," he pointed towards the waiting area, "and someone will bring it out as soon as possible." The brunette smiled at him as he paid for the order then slowly drove towards the designated parking spot. Jungkook dropped to the floor crouching out of view, his heart was thumping against his ribs. He took a few minutes to calm himself down before returning to his mundane, tedious work.

The day seemed to drag on longer than usual for Jungkook, anything that could go wrong did. The coffee machine in the café side broke down, his coworker and best friend Jimin was burnt by hot oil in the fryer and had to be rushed off to A&E and Jungkook had slipped on some melted ice bruising both his knees during impact. By the time his shift was over he was well and truly over the day, but he had agreed to cover Taehyung's night shift (and hey, extra pay wasn't anything to scoff at)

He had a quick break, scoffing down some chicken nuggets before washing them down with a large Fanta, then fit the microphone headpiece back in place and waited for the craziness of the dinner rush. As expected the next 3 hours were insane, car after car seemed to flow past his window. His feet were burning from standing all day, eyes feeling heavy from exhaustion but he still had 4 more hours before closing.

-----

With only an hour to go the staff that remained locked the front doors, the drive thru now the only option for anyone with a late night craving for greasy burgers and burnt fries. Jungkook was able to finally rest his swollen feet, laying down in a booth hands folded under his head. He had just started to feel himself drift off when the static of the speaker box vibrated in his ear, the telltale sign of a car pulling up dragged him from his near slumber.

"Hello Welcome to McDonalds," a yawn broke free, his hand automatically rushing up to cover his nose, "Mmm sorry, can I take your order."

"Yeah, one Large Cheeseburger combo with an Iced Americano please"

Jungkook's eyes were as large as saucers as he flung himself out of the booth and ran towards the drive thru window. It was that delicate, ethereal man again, he'd never worked nights before so hadn't expected to see him again.

"I'm sorry, b-but the McCafe is closed, you'll have to order from the soft drink menu." He checked himself out in the reflective metal bench in front of where he stood, he was sure he looked like hell but there was little he could do, not that he could see anything anyway the bench was scattered with serviettes and spilled soft drink.

"That's okay, I'll just take a large Coke then."

"Sure thing, please drive up to the next window."

The car arrived within seconds, the only vehicle in the drive thru so late at night. Jungkook stood awkwardly, eyes darting between the man in the car and the crew in the back taking their sweet ass time to get the order ready. He huffed and slid the window open.

"Do you mind parking up and someone will bring your order out for you?"

"Yeah, thanks." The man paid then pulled up into the vacant waiting area. With his headlights turned off the car was invisible in the dark of the night. Jungkook let out another yawn and rubbed his tired sleepy eyes. He walked into the back just as his co-worker was folding over the brown paper bag.

"Can you take this out to him, I really need to use the bathroom." The bag was thrust into his arms as the night manager Namjoon ran past him towards the toilet block. He sighed, obviously he had no choice but to deliver this meal to the most gorgeous man to walk the earth. God was really testing him today. Jungkook removed his headpiece leaving it by the cash register, unlocked the front door and stepped into the chilly night.

He shivered before running towards the only car in empty space. He knocked gently on the driver side window and shifted off each foot while he waited for the window to be rolled down. There was no response. He tried to peer through the tinted glass but was unable to see anything so he knocked once more, this time a lot louder. The window rolled down part of the way and Jungkook could see the top of the man's face.

"Thanks, just slip it through." His voice was strained and a little pitchy.

Jungkook shifted his weight onto his left foot "Yeah, that's not gonna work you need to lower the window more."

A panicked no was the man's response. Jungkook was getting a little pissed off, he had been working non stop all day and just wanted to go home, have a quick jerk off session and then sleep.

"Dude, you need to open the window or I'm just dumping your shit on the ground." Jungkook didn't mean to snap, and not at the man he'd secretly been in love with for so long. But he was just so over his day.

Slowly the window lowered and Jungkook was able to see the man's face. Just as soft and perfect as always, except he had a pink tinge to his cheeks. Jungkook thought it looked beautiful, a gorgeous contrast to his pale skin. He went to pass the bag through when his eyes flickered downwards. Jungkook choked when his eyes fell upon a very thick and very hard cock peaking out between the man's legs. His jeans were pushed halfway down his legs and his right hand was clenched around the base of his shaft. Jungkook wasn't sure what to do. He'd been picturing the man's cock for months and now he was seeing it in the flesh, he was turned on and slightly overwhelmed.

The man used his free hand to grab the bag and nonchalantly threw it on the passenger seat. Jungkook was unable to remove his eyes from the brunette's cock, his tongue flicked out as he licked along his lip. When realisation set in of what he had just done, his face turned beetroot red and he spun around to run back to the safety of the store.

But before he could the man spoke, "Do you like what you see?"

Jungkook froze, it was pretty obvious he did, but he couldn't say that . . could he?

"Y-y-yes." He replied, his stutter making him cringe internally.

"Get in." It was more of a question than a demand and Jungkook felt a little better to know he wasn't the only one affected by what was happening. He walked to the door directly behind where the man sat and slowly opened it, he quickly looked around to make sure no one was watching before climbing into the back seat. They sat in silence for a while, Jungkook twisting his hair around his finger - a nervous habit of his and the man stared at him with those intense piercing eyes through the rare view mirror.

-----

After a few minutes Jungkook heard light whimpers come from the front and leaned forward between the empty space of the two front seats. The man was stroking his length slowly, cautiously watching Jungkook's every move in the mirror. Jungkook sat quietly and watched with attentive eyes at the scene unfolding in front of him. He longed to reach out and feel that soft translucent skin, to see his cum dripping all over the tattoos that were etched into his skin. But his body couldn't move, glued to the spot he was in.

Jungkook watched as the man's chest rise and fell, how his cock twitched every time a low moan escaped Jungkook's lips and at the precum that was leaking from the tip, helping to lubricate the man's slide.

"You are so fucking pretty," The deep mumbly voice broke the silence reverberating around the stifling space, "The first time I saw you I thought you were the prettiest guy I've ever seen. I fucking hate McDonald's, it tastes like shit. But I keep coming back because I want to see you."

"What the fuck." Jungkook couldn't believe what he was hearing, his dream man thought he was pretty? And only ordered food to see him? No wonder he had never seen him order inside the store. He shifted in his seat, his cock starting to ache from how hard it was. The man was still watching through the rare view mirror and had noticed.

"Get it out if you want, bit weird for me to be the only one with my dick out."

Jungkook quickly unzipped his trousers and yanked them down letting them land on the floor with a soft thud. He leaned into the back seat and spat onto his palm, wincing once he finally felt the tight grip of his hand relieve some of the pressure building up inside of him. He felt a little silly, legs open wide, knees bruised, white socks, black sneakers, McDonald's work shirt and hat still on, but the man staring back at him didn't seem to mind one bit of his appearance. Maybe he had a uniform kink?

Together they pumped their cocks, eyes locked onto one another's via the mirror. Their hushed breaths synchronised, the thrill of what they were doing drew Jungkook closer to his release. "Shit, I'm gonna c-cum soon. C-can I feel you? Please, I've wanted it for so long." The eyes staring back at him flashed a desire Jungkook had never seen in anyone before. The man pushed his pants off fully and scrambled into the back with Jungkook. Jungkook reached out hesitantly and stroked his fingers along the man's face, along his strong eyebrows, down his cute little nose, along his soft jawline and of course his sweet lips.

"So what's your name anyway? I'm Jungkook." he asked as he leaned in and started to kiss the man's exposed neck, hands hovering over his creamy white thighs.

"Yoongi."

"A pretty name for a pretty little thing. Perfect." Jungkook continued to suck deep purple marks onto Yoongi's neck, he hadn't given a hickey since he was a teenager, but he wanted to mark the man up so badly. He could feel Yoongi's hands knead at his soft ass, squeezing the flesh, running his finger along his crack, teasing at the entrance of his hole.

Without warning Jungkook detached from Yoongi's neck and pushed his smaller body against the backseat. He straddled Yoongi's thighs, shifting so their cocks were centimeters apart. He reached down between their bodies and held his cock in one hand and Yoongi's in the other, then pressed them firmly against each other. Jungkook whimpered, Yoongi was so hard and warm against his cock, which was now throbbing and leaking a small amount of precum. Jungkook ran his thumb over his slit, collecting as much of the clear fluid as he could before rubbing his thumb over the tip of Yoongi's cock, his fingers traced around the head, slowly moving down his length, with feather light touch. Jungkook closed his fingers around Yoongi's girth and moved his hand up and down covering him with his arousal. He stroked him a few times before taking both cocks into his tattooed hand and pushed them together. They both cried out at the contact of their pulsating cocks against one another.

Jungkook jerked them both off, squeezing and pumping eager to see Yoongi come undone under him. Yoongi arched his hips grabbing on tight to Jungkook's thighs and started thrusting in time with Jungkook. In response Jungkook ground his cock against Yoongi's even harder, his balls slapping against the large pair that hung below Yoongi's thick cock. They rocked and rutted against each others warm, smooth lengths. The windows of the car were fogged - evidence of something seedy taking place inside, Yoongi's burger and fries no longer warm, but neither took any notice too focused on chasing their climax.

Yoongi came first spurting ropes of hot cum all over his shirt while he choked out a deep, vibrating sob. Jungkook looked down and saw the creamy white fluid dripping down his fingers and over the faded black ink, his cock pulsated in his grip. Jungkook's gut tightened and his vision went blurry, he spilled his release all over his and Yoongi's cocks.

Jungkook's heart was racing just like it had been earlier in the day, he couldn't believe that the man he had be fantasising about was laying under him cock out and covered in his cum. Yoongi flashed him a gummy smile, one he had seen many times from the other side of the drive thru window. Up close it was even more lovely his perfect little teeth lined up straight, eyes crinkling in the corners.

"Jungkook! Jungkook! Where the fuck are you man?" Jungkook's head snapped towards Namjoon's booming voice echoing throughout the carpark. He looked at Yoongi panicked but the smaller man didn't seem worried in the slightest. Yoongi pulled his T-shirt up over his head and used it to clean the sticky mess off Jungkook's hand.

"Put your pants back on and act like nothing happened. Just say I'm an old friend and we were catching up or something. I'll come and see you tomorrow . . errr later this morning on my way to work. You know my order right?"

Jungkook quickly did what Yoongi told him and gave him a fond smile before climbing out into the bleak cold night.

"Namjoon-ah!!" Jungkook yelled into the darkness not quite sure where his manager was. The sound of frantic footsteps alerted him and he turned to face a very pissed off Namjoon. His jaw was clenched and his mouth was turned downwards. Jungkook had seen this face only once before, when Namjoon had lost his shit and fired someone on the spot for trying to deep fry a soft serve cone.

He gulped hard, "Sorry Namjoon that's an old friend of mine," he motioned towards the car, "I guess we lost track of time."

Namjoon sighed "You're lucky no one has showed up in the last hour besides your friend over there. Come on, it's time to clean this place for the morning crew and then we can get the hell out of here and get some sleep."

As Jungkook walked back to the dimly lit building he couldn't help but smile with the knowledge that Mr Cheeseburger and Iced Americano would be rolling up to his drive thru window in just a few hours to see him. He was lovin' it.

#bts smut #bts fanfic #yoongi smut #Jungkook smut #yoonkook #yoonkook fanfic #bts fanfction #suga #jungkook #yoongi #I wrote a fic inspired by McDonald’s fml #armywriterssupport #bts #bangtan #bts imagines #bangtaninn

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industriallyinsecure · 4 years ago

Text

Comfort drafts collection - Prosciutto

Trigger warning(s): mentions of self mutilation, self esteem issues, depression Very self indulgent and venty, so please take caution

You were surprised you had enough energy for your stand to be summoned. Grateful Dead lounged with your stand, Creep, on the floor of your shared bedroom. Creep’s long, porcelain digits twirled Grateful Dead’s purple tendrils. They were positioned similarly to yourself and your boyfriend, Creep laying on its belly with GD propped up by its arms next to it.

You wished your stand wouldn’t betray your well-hidden emotions with the recently switched tragedy mask it wore. Every benign touch risked transmitting your thoughts to your boyfriend.

Prosciutto was always supportive, but he had been cautious around you recently. And while you appreciated the effort, you weren’t the type of person to just get up and start back over when you’d fallen. It took finding you in the tub with self inflicted wounds for him to realize that maybe it wasn’t just a small bout of sadness. It had been embarrassing to admit those things to him, to let him see you so weak. With the pre-existing stigma against mental health and his rather traditional views, you were pleasantly surprised that he didn’t just leave you right then and there. He was quick to change his tune, being more gentle with you.

Creep scooted closer, wrapping its thin, black arms around Grateful Dead’s torso, causing it to topple over. Your stand clutched on to your boyfriend’s tightly, refusing to let go.

Next to you, Prosciutto turned a page in his magazine. Readers were on the tip of his nose, making him look like the grumpy old man he was. A cute grumpy old man. You turned your head, resting it flat on the bedsheets.

I really need to take a shower.

The warm meat of Prosciutto’s palm covered your hand. He linked his fingers with yours very gingerly.

“If you wanted to shower with me, you could’ve just asked, my sweet.”

You shut your eyes and sighed. Creep was doing it again, relaying your thoughts through Grateful Dead to your boyfriend. While it was easier to articulate how you felt, you wished you could control what could and could not be sent.

If you take one now, you can go back to bed and stop worrying about it.

And you hated that Prosciutto used your stand against you. You hated that he was able to hear your weaknesses and confront you about them.

I don’t want to get up.

Washing myself would be too difficult.

That’s why I’ll shower with you.

That’s embarrassing. Being washed by my boyfriend like a little kid.

And you know I don’t like showing my body.

The bed shifted. He was obviously turning to look at you, probably making a sour face. You didn’t bother moving.

“It’s not like we haven’t seen each other naked before,” he stated matter-of-factly. But he was quick to soften his tone, “if you really don’t want to, then I won’t make you.”

I probably should.

You carefully pushed yourself up, joints creaking from laying in the same position for roughly a day.

Prosciutto led you into the bathroom, helping you strip your clothes off and ushering you into the shower. He quickly stripped himself, setting out towels for the two of you.

As soon as he stepped in with you, you tucked your head into his chest, holding on to him with a tight hug. A hand came to rest on the middle of your back, the other controlling his spaceship of a shower that you had yet to figure out. You jumped when the cold water hit your back, your boyfriend chuckling so sweetly. The water quickly warmed up.

Prosciutto carefully went through your routine, cleaning your face, lathering your hair with your special shampoo, washing your body. The last thing was difficult, what with you holding on to him like a koala, but he was able to do it through some gentle chiding and maneuvering.

In return, you got to untie his adorable gnocchi buns and rinse his hair. He insisted that he clean himself, but you ended up winning that argument. You stroked his scarred arm with the washcloth, the zipper design a stark pink against his milky skin from where he had gotten his arm reattached by Don Buccellati. You didn’t pretend to understand the logistics of how it worked or what happened, you were just happy your handsome, precious boyfriend returned to you in one piece.

You were able to return to your safehaven against his chest while you waited for his conditioner to sit. His hands found the knots in your shoulders, applying light pressure to them

“You know that song I always listen to when I’m really upset and I don’t want you to talk to me?” You asked during the moment of quiet. Your gaze stayed on his chest. If you looked, if you caved in, you’d cry. And crying in front of your boyfriend was the worst thing.

He muttered an affirmation, nudging your forehead. You held on to him like he was the last thing in the world.

“I feel like a monster.”

Prosciutto sighed through his nose, touching the tip of his nose to yours.

“But you’re not a monster,” he murmured, cupping your wet cheek.

You shook your head, gulping back tears.

“I know I’ll never understand, and I won’t pretend that I do, but you’re not a monster,” he emphasized by bumping his forehead against yours. “You want to scratch off your skin because you don’t feel clean. You want to clean yourself from the inside out because nothing feels right. I know, baby, I know it hurts. To feel disgusting in your own skin.”

He paused to find the words. The tears that dribbled down your cheeks were lovingly wiped away, treated as if they were raindrops.

“But you’re you, and you don’t want to be you, but you have no choice. You have to wake up as you, listen to your head, to live as you, and you’re stronger for it. You’re so strong, my dear. Because you’re here with me, even through all of that. I know men who faint at the slightest obstacle, but you, you, you face them and the ones inside. And no monster could do that.”

Before you could cry and protest that you were a monster from hell, your boyfriend, your sweet, sweet boyfriend, brought you in for a passionate, possessive kiss. Warmth, along with the paralyzing block in your chest that stopped you from sobbing, bloomed through your body. Prosciutto kept you tight against his warm, wet body.

His lips were just as soft as they’d always been, tasting of tobacco and his late night drink. Tears poured from your eyes as you cried through his kiss. You loved him, so, so very much.

He seemed reluctant to pull away, but he did. You hesitantly brought your gaze up to look into his smiling face and blue eyes. They were filled with love, admiration, undying devotion. You were sure that your eyes held the same affections.

And in that moment, everything was okay.

#not a shitpost #angst #fluff #angst with fluff #prosciutto x reader #comfort drabble #la squadra x reader #prosciutto #reader insert

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kahlsflannel · 4 years ago

Text

The Summer

Part One: Mr.Rogers

Summary: (Y/N) (L/N) lives with her parents at their exquisite mansion, tucked away somewhere in the midsts of Michigan. Summers are always dull, and usually spent by her lonesome. However, when her parents invite a few choice friends from college to spend the season with the family, (Y/N) gets the chance to meet good ole Steve Rogers, and realizes this summer isn't going to be like any others.

SERIES WARNINGS: age gap (reader is 18, Steve is 40.) eventual smut

CHAPTER WARNINGS: none, except for hot Steve Rogers.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (Modern!AU)

Word Count: 1,500

A/N: Hi hi hi. My hiatus is technically still going but I had this idea and wrote 1,500 words and my brain is still going brrr so please enjoy. Btw, the Steve in this is based of Infinity War Steve. Big man. Beefy man. Wow. Anyways, I hope you enjoy <3

Summer heat was always her least favorite. As she neared the lake house, a humid gust of the wind blew upon the nape of her neck, wetting the small baby hairs, sticking them to her skin. She hated it. Hated all that came with the season. Scolded the wasps as they bounded around the fruit trees, dipping their sharp bottoms into the dainty flowers, pink like soft flesh flushed with blood. Summer typically brought nothing but toughened soles and dinner parties, lonely nights and cold waters. Summer was her least favorite. She hated how her birthday feel right at the end of the spring, catapulting her into being grown during the quiet lull of the year. Eighteen was a strange age. It carried a heavy weight upon its brow, giving all the responsibilities of a seasoned adult without the years of tiresome experience. She compared to a game of dice, rolling and rolling, hoping to get the right numbers, but usually coming out plain wrong, and having to try and try again until fingers became nimble enough to angle the squared pieces in the right way.

Shoes pressed into the thick, muddy sand by the murky waters of her father's prized lake. It spanned across their property, hosting a family of mallards and several types of game fish that her father would brag about during events, pointing to taxidermied trout plastered on the wall of their dining room as he went on about how many swam the depths of the body outside. She had never cared for fishing, finding it tedious and tiring. She also despided the idea of prying a barbed hook from the mouth of a fish, just to release it and let its blood pollute the waters. Alas, she came from a family of hunters and fishermen, so she was not spared the sights she so greatly detested. As she looked across the rippling surface, her name was called in the all too cheery voice of her mother, who was making her way over.

"(Y/N), the guests are here," she said happily, eager for the distraction from her crippling marriage. Her father was always a little more kind when others were around. He replaced his typical cold demeanor with soft eyes and kisses to her mother's cheeks, pleasantries he often refused to offer. The younger girl nodded, a tight lipped smile shot towards the woman as she allowed her mother's soft hand to find a place on the small of her back and lead her towards the main house. A large black SUV was parked in front, the driver stepping out from the front to open the backdoor. Out stepped a woman with auburn hair, the color of a burning log. Her eyes latched onto (Y/N)'s own, making her blink quickly as the dark green irises seemed to burn a hole into her. Her attention was quickly diverted to the other door opening on it's own, followed by a large frame filling her vision.

Broad shoulders pressed against some kind of silk fabric that stretched over obviously toned muscles. The white sleeves were rolled half way up his arms, showing off his tanned forearms, which were decorated by soft blonde hairs and what she assumed to be an expensive watch, looking similar to her father's Rolex. Her eyes travelled up, landing on his face. She quickly realized he was by far the most attractive man she had ever laid eyes upon. His jaw was hidden under a well manicured beard, and his eyes were left under sunglasses, some designer's name branded harshly onto the side. His hair was swept back, held in place by some sort of product, but lacked the typical shine of a gel. He was stunning and (Y/N) almost didn't register she was being spoken to by her mother.

"Why don't we show the guests to their rooms? You can take Mr.Rogers to the one beside yours and I'll name Ms. Romanoff to the one by my own. We'll meet back in the dining room for dinner in around," her mother lifted her arm, glancing at the watch face before continuing, "half an hour?" Suddenly, she started speaking to the guests. "Welcome welcome! Natasha! it's been so long." The auburn woman smiled, extending her arms to receive a hug. The pair began talking, and (Y/N) figured she was supposed to welcome the man. She took in a deep breath before walking over towards him. He was leaned cooly against the car, large hands holding his phone in one and large bottle of wine in the other.

"Excuse me," (Y/N) piped up, feeling small under the sudden gaze directed at her. "Hello," she continued, fishing a smile onto her features. He returned it, allowing her to talk. "I'm (Y/N) (L/N), it's nice to meet you." She extended her hand, a courtesy she was taught young. He quickly shoved his phone into his front pocket and offered his own hand.

"Steve Rogers," he spoke, his voice a sweet timber. She blinked slow, taking in the feeling of his hand as he shook her own. Once disconnected, he drew up the same hand to push his glasses onto the crown of his head and handed her the bottle of wine, the label telling her it was an icon level red. She was suddenly sad she wasn't able to drink yet, always enjoying the bitter smell of the liquid. She thanked him quickly before furthering their conversation.

"I'm usually familiar with our guests. Can I ask how you know my parents?" She questioned, watching as he moved to grab his suitcase out of the back of the car. Her mother and Natasha, as she recalled, had already made their way inside, leaving the pair alone. As she led him into the house, he began speaking.

"I went to college with your father. That was, wow," he paused at the entryway, shaking his head before continuing, "That was over 20 years ago. Well before you were here." He shot her a smile. She nodded, giving him a small grin back as she handed the bottle of wine to the kitchen maid who greeted her from the entryway.

"I see. My father's been having a lot of old college friends here lately. Your room is upstairs, by the way. Do you need any help with your luggage?" she asked, not sure of where to take the conversation. He shook his head once more, picking up the suitcase by the handle with ease.

"No thank you, sweetheart. I've got it," he spoke easily. "You lead the way, I'll follow you." It was her turn to nod. She moved up the stairs easily, from many years of practice, and led him to the twist of the hall. Her room, the second guest room, and a bathroom were placed obscured from sight, tucked into a lonely corridor at the far left of the house. She had always enjoyed the privacy, her room far enough away from her parents that she could blare music as loud as she wanted and only disturb the cracks of her walls.

Once at the door of the room he would be staying, she twisted the knob to revel the space. her mother took pride in the looks of the guest rooms, insisting that they make the rooms just as nice as their own. A large bed filled the middle of the space, as well as two lounge chairs situated beside a table at the window. A hand carved entertainment unit hosted a television, and the floor was decorated with a large shag rug. All the linens and laces were white, and matched the walls.

"Alright, this is you. I'm right next door if you need anything. I sometimes play music a little loud, so if it ever bothers you, just let me know and I'll turn it down. Your closet is through that door by the bed, and the bathroom is across the hall." She was speaking fast, aware of his breath on her neck as he surveyed the space from behind her.

"Perfect, thank you so much, sweetheart. Show me around the rest of the place later, will ya?" She nodded, looking up at him before removing herself from the room. Questions were pounding her head as she watched him set his suitcase gently onto the duvet.

"Do..do you need anything else from me?" she asked, not wanting to be a rude host out of fear of her mother.

"I don't think so. When is dinner? I'd like to get the airport smell off me before we eat," he said, tugging a bag of toiletries out of the large space.

"Oh, at 7:30. That's when we alway eat," she spoke, moving back so he could exit the room.

"Perfect. I'll meet you all down there then. It was nice meeting you, (Y/N)." He spoke her name gently, held the letters on his tongue in a distinguished way. Not in the typical condescending manner of her father's other friends.

"You too, Mr.Rogers," she said, looking up at him through her lashes. He smiled, glancing over his shoulder as he entered the bathroom.

"Just call me Steve, sweetheart."

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader smut #steve x reader #steve #jensonwrites #i hope this i okay #i really like the concept

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purrincess-chat · 4 years ago

Text

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH11

And here the plot thickens! There’s a lot coming up in this next section that I hope you will all love. I’ve spent the most time in this middle portion, and I’m really happy with a lot of the character arcs coming up. Enjoy!

Previous First Next AO3

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

Chapter 11: Rain on Me

“It’s not much, but…”

Tall columns stretched up to the ceiling on either side of the grand staircase, and Marinette’s reflection beamed back at her in the tile. The foyer was bright and airy—a stark contrast to the duller hues of Adrien’s house. Macy’s home was grand but also inviting.

Eliott shoved Macy playfully. “I’ll say. My foyer is much bigger.”

Macy shoved him back, sticking out her tongue. “C’mon, I’ll show you my room.” She bounced up the stairs cheerfully, leading them to the door at the end of the hall. “This whole wing is mine actually. I’ve got a movie theater, a private bathroom—I even have my own sound studio.”

“I’ve begged my father to build a theater, but he doesn’t like the idea of having a lot of teenagers in his house,” Adrien said with a hint of envy. “Do you mind if I take a look?”

“You can look at whatever you want,” Macy giggled.

Martin and Eliott exchanged looks.

“I’ll go with them.” Martin followed them up the hall.

“Marinette, come check out the closet. Macy’s handbag collection is to die for.” Eliott took her hand and pulled her into Macy’s room. “Julius, can you bring us up some tea? Set it up on the terrace.”

Macy’s butler nodded politely before retreating from the room.

“You’re really comfortable here,” Marinette remarked as Eliott threw open the closet doors.

"Macy and I grew up together. We've been friends forever, so it's almost like I live here too," he said, sifting through a rack of designer dresses. "We're basically family."

"That's so awesome. I wish I had someone like that," Marinette said. She examined the photos hanging on Macy's vanity, smiling young faces that were all too familiar. "Who's the girl in these pictures? She looks a lot like you. Is she your sister?"

Eliott stopped, cautiously crossing the room to stand beside her. He shoved his hands into his pockets and frowned. "No, that's me.”

Marinette's eyebrows raised. "Oh. Oh. Okay." She nodded, turning back to the pictures awkwardly.

"Is that okay?" Eliott asked.

"Of course."

Eliott relaxed, trailing his thumb over the edge of the photo. "I started transitioning the summer before collége. I’m lucky that my family is so supportive," he explained. “Not many people at school know besides Macy—just a few teachers. I’m always a bit scared to tell new people because I don’t know how they’ll react, and even though we haven’t known each other that long, I trust you, Marinette.”

"Um, thank you for telling me." She clasped her hands together. “It means a lot to know you see me that way. After everything… I needed friends like you and Macy.”

"I should be thanking you. I’ve changed for the better every day since I met you. I can tell you have that effect on people,” he said. “Besides, it's who I am, and I don’t want to hide it from my friends. It’s just… not everyone is so understanding.”

"Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” Marinette said. Her cheeks warmed when Eliott scooped her into a tight hug.

Things in her life were so different now. Different school, different people, but deep down, Marinette was still the same. Loving her friends wasn’t a bad thing. Alya may have turned her back on their friendship, but that didn’t mean that everyone in her life would. Eliott’s confidence in her was proof enough that these people would stay by her side.

“You two can go ahead out to the terrace,” Macy’s voice sounded in the hall, and a moment later, she appeared in the doorway. “Did you show her my limited-edition handbag collection?” She leaned against the frame with a knowing look.

“Yeah, she thinks they’re great.” Eliott winked.

“Good,” Macy said. “We don’t let just anyone see them, so you should feel honored.”

“I do. Moving to a new school was really hard, so I’m glad to have made such good friends so quickly,” Marinette said. “You’ve both changed my life too.”

“Aww,” Macy and Eliott cooed.

Eliott lifted her hand to his lips. “Don’t worry. From now on, we’re here for you, Marinette.”

“Yeah, you’re one of us now.”

♪♫♪ The Wrecked and the Worried ♪♫♪

“Thanks for taking me home,” Marinette said as Gorilla pulled out onto the street. “Macy lives so far away from my house.”

Adrien smiled at her, the warmth from his chest spreading to his cheeks. Marinette was so much happier with her new friends. Seeing her face light up when she laughed at one of Eliott’s jokes, or the slight furrow in her brow when Macy waved 2000 euros away like it was pocket change set his mind at ease.

The more distance Marinette put between her and Francoise-Dupont, the happier she became, and the more Lila’s threats lost their bite. Out of everyone in their class, he had always been drawn to Marinette. Maybe it was her courage or her compassionate nature that he admired so much or maybe her optimistic attitude. She’d lost everything because of Lila, and yet, she’d still managed to pick up the pieces and find happiness again.

In such a short time, he’d become so protective of her. He never wanted that smile to fade or those brilliant bluebell eyes to dim. More than anything, he wanted her to be free from the past, and he’d do anything to help her get there. Marinette deserved the best—she shared her light freely all the time and never asked for anything in return, so now he was going to do the same for her.

“It’s no trouble. I’m happy that I get to spend time together with just you,” he said. “Your new friends are really nice.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about Macy. She just gets really excited.” Marinette winced.

“It’s okay,” he chuckled. “Your designs look amazing so far.”

Her cheeks darkened three shades. “I dunno about that. They’re still pretty messy…Clara probably won’t like them.”

“Why not? You’re really talented. I’m sure she will love them.” He assured her.

“Thanks, I guess. I’m just so nervous about it.” She hugged her bag to her chest and bit her lip. “I still can’t believe I have an opportunity like this right now. It’s always been my dream to be a designer, but I pictured it as something I wouldn’t achieve until I was older. I feel so under-qualified.”

“You’re already a great designer, Marinette, and people are starting to see that,” he said. “You shouldn’t be so modest.”

“I know, but I can’t help it,” she said. “I don’t want to brag or seem full of myself.”

“I don’t think anyone thinks you’re full of yourself. It’s not wrong to brag every once in a while, especially for someone as incredible as you.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and offered her a warm smile. “We’re all just proud of you, and we want you to be proud of yourself. You deserve it.”

Marinette bit back a smile, cheeks pink and eyes shining in the dim light. How had he gotten so lucky to meet someone like her? She was so smart and driven and kind. Unlike Lila. Marinette was going to change the world for real someday—Clara was just step one.

“Well, looks like this is me,” she said as the limo slowed to a stop. “Thanks again for the ride.”

“You’re welcome, anytime.” Adrien pulled her in for a hug, kissing both of her cheeks. “See you soon.”

“See you!”

Adrien leaned back against the seat with a sigh, drumming his fingers as the limo pulled away. Lila needed to be stopped at all costs. If she got in the way of Marinette’s future, he’d never forgive her. He hated to admit it, but after his conversation with Nino and Alya, he’d officially run out of nice options. Lila would continue to use people for as long as she could unless they did something. Unless he did something.

Conflict made his skin crawl, but he owed this to Marinette. If he hadn’t been so complaisant, she wouldn’t have changed schools. She and Alya might still be friends, and he could even see Nino outside of class now. This was all his fault.

Granted, if she had stayed, she may not have the same opportunities now, and she never would have met her new friends. There was some good that had come of this. He couldn’t change the past, but he would make sure Marinette had a bright future—one devoid of Lila and her lies.

“Can we stop by the Grand Paris?” he asked, and after a small huff, the limo changed course. “Thank you!”

When Adrien arrived at Chloe’s suite, she was dressed in a silk robe with a green face mask and cucumbers over her eyes. Several stylists worked on her nails, and although she couldn’t see him, she knew the moment he approached.

“Did you come for a mani-pedi?” she asked.

He shifted his weight. “You told me to come back when I was ready to take down Lila, and… I’m ready.”

“Why should I help you? You didn’t help me when I needed you.” Chloe opened her mouth, and her butler placed a small chocolate on her tongue with a pair of tongs.

“Because we’re friends, and I know you’d do anything for me,” he said. When she opened her mouth for another chocolate, undeterred, he added, “because I know you still sleep with your teddy bear.”

A wicked grin curled on her lips, cracking the half-dried, green paste on her face. “Blackmailing me, Adrikins? I’m impressed. You really have come a long way.”

“Please, Chloe? I’ve tried talking to Alya and Nino. I’ve tried convincing Lila to change. I know I screwed up before, but there has to be something else we can do to stop her.” Adrien dropped to his knees, pressing his palms together. “I’m literally begging.”

Chloe hummed thoughtfully to herself while she chewed another chocolate. “How is Dupain-Cheng these days?” she asked.

Adrien’s heart jumped to his throat. “She’s fine, and I want to keep it that way.”

Chloe’s lip twitched, and she sat up abruptly. Her staff scrambled to remove the cucumbers from her eyes as she stood up to meet Adrien’s gaze head-on. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were in love with her. Why else do you care so much about Lila other than the fact that she’s tarnishing Marinette’s reputation?”

“She’s just a friend, and I don’t want Lila to turn everyone against her,” Adrien insisted.

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Even I don’t believe you when you say that anymore, Adrikins.” She turned and waddled carefully to the bathroom, the bottom of her robe trailing the ground. “Lila might lie to others, but you lie to yourself. I can’t decide which is more painful to watch.”

“Chloe-”

She paused in the doorway and looked over her shoulder. “I will think of something to help you with Lila if it’s so important to you,” she said. “Now, I’ve got a date with a hot bubble bath, so beat it.”

“Thank you, Chloe-”

“Out!” She pointed to the door.

Adrien scurried from her suite, mashing the elevator button repeatedly. He pictured Marinette’s smiling face from that afternoon contrasted against her anguished sobs from only a few days before. Lila would pay for those tears, and Adrien would make sure she never caused them again. He’d protect Marinette Dupain-Cheng, no matter the cost.

♪♫♪ Runaways ♪♫♪

“See you tomorrow!” Marinette waved to Macy and Eliott outside Martin’s apartment a few nights later.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride?” Macy gestured to Eliott’s open limo.

“Yeah, I’ll manage. The subway isn’t too far from here, and it’s out of your way,” she insisted.

Eliott pursed his lips but didn’t press. “Alright then. See you tomorrow.” He blew her a kiss.

Marinette started up the street alone, enjoying a brief moment of solitude. After changing schools in the middle of the term, she was in need of a good study session, and her new friends were more than happy to oblige. Martin’s ritzy apartment building was smaller than Macy and Eliott’s sprawling mansions, but still far more luxurious than Marinette’s home.

“For having so much, your new friends are surprisingly generous.” Tikki peeked out from her purse.

“Just because they’re rich doesn’t mean they’re not nice people. Look at Adrien. He’s the nicest person I know.” She sighed dreamily before snapping herself out of it. “Martin, Macy, and Eliott have become people I can really count on. I owe them a lot for embracing me the way they have.”

“Do you think they’re worthy replacements for Rena Rouge and Carapace?” Tikki asked.

Marinette pursed her lips with a hum. “Time will tell. I want to be absolutely certain this time. No more mistakes.”

“Oh my gosh, hey!” A strangely familiar voice cooed.

Marinette stopped short, turning over her shoulder as an arm snaked through her own and tugged. Red hair blurred her vision until bright green eyes locked with hers.

“Wow, what are the odds that we’d run into each other. It’s so awesome to see you.”

Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed as Gabrielle dragged her further up the street. Her tight grip stretched Marinette’s shoulders painfully, but something in her voice seemed off. It was familiar and friendly, which was already puzzling enough, but Marinette also detected a hint of…fear?

“Gabrielle, what’s-”

“There are some creepy guys following me, play along, and I’ll leave you alone for a month,” she hissed. “So, what are you up to?”

Marinette grasped her forearm, giving the illusion of familiarity, even if it was to keep her shoulder from popping out of socket. “Uh, just out and about.”

“Hey, we should see a movie next week.” Gabrielle picked up the pace as they rounded a corner.

Marinette struggled to keep up with her long legs. “Yeah, totally!” She used a parked car to catch a glimpse of their assailants in the reflection. “Do you wanna take the subway with me?”

“We need to shake them off first,” Gabrielle said under her breath.

Marinette pressed her lips together, then nodded. “Follow me.”

Gabrielle arched a brow as Marinette took the lead, veering toward the park across the street. She cut diagonally across to the other exit, stealing a glance over her shoulder as they turned another corner. They were still being followed, their assailants picking up speed to match their pace. Marinette checked the time on her phone, abruptly darting across the street to the next block.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Gabrielle asked through clenched teeth.

“Trust me,” Marinette said.

Gabrielle eyed her skeptically but didn’t argue. Marinette pictured the route in her head, imagining the overhead view. She knew this city better than anyone, and as she ducked around one more corner, she finally made the plunge down into the subway. Gabrielle tensed, but Marinette grabbed her wrist and picked up the pace. They slid onto the subway car just before the doors closed, watching smugly as their pursuers slowed to a stop at the base of the stairs just as the train pulled off.

“Thanks.” Gabrielle averted her gaze stubbornly. “You didn’t have to help me.”

“I know,” Marinette said. She grabbed onto the pole as Gabrielle pulled out her phone and resumed ignoring her. “So, what are you doing out walking? Don’t you have a chauffeur?”

“None of your business.”

Marinette’s eyes narrowed on the apron sticking out of her bag, and Gabrielle shifted to hide it. Something weird was going on with her, but Gabrielle was right—it wasn’t any of her business. They were safe, and that was all that mattered.

“I can make it home from here,” Gabrielle said when the train stopped at the next station. “Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome…” Marinette leaned against the pole with a frown as Gabrielle stalked from the car.

“That was odd,” Tikki said from Marinette’s collar.

“Yeah,” Marinette said when the doors slid shut again. “Really odd.”

#marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist remix #mdcsp #mdcspr #my writing

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jcmorrigan · 4 years ago

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Somehow, I can imagine Vinny, Al and Victor ""adopting"" Taylor so...👀

I’m just going to do this one off the top of my head and see what happens

-Taylor was accepted into RMU, but oh no! They don’t have enough money to cover the dorms. Their parents are just “It’s too bad you don’t have any friends in G4 to stay with″ and Taylor realizes...oh no...I have friends in G4.

-They didn’t want to admit how much they actually hoped Revenge House would accept them when they called. Taylor will tell anyone who asks that they called for the sole purpose of getting shot down and ruling this out.

-Vincent: “I see. Well - “ Albert: “YES” Victor: “I’ll fix up the guest bedroom” Vincent: “...I guess you’re staying with us then”

-There are a few house rules. Don’t go in the basement (there are cyborgs in there). Don’t roam the house after curfew (that’s when we let the cyborgs out). Don’t feed Winston (Taylor isn’t sure if this one is a joke or an actual warning).

-Otherwise they get a pretty nice bedroom, soft bed, quality blankets. Not soundproof and they can hear the screams and weird metallic noises from the rooms two floors down, but hey, they won’t complain.

-At first, the guys pretty much leave Taylor to their own devices. That’s the nice thing about them being a legal adult: they don’t actually have to be good or attentive parents

-Victor and Albert are the two who pay them the most attention. Victor actually carries on conversation like a normal person. Well, mostly. He still always kind of sounds like he’s gathering information to use for nefarious purposes, but Taylor’s used to that by now. Also being called “my dear Taylor” was offputting at first but now they see it’s a genuine term of affection.

-Albert is...an interesting guardian. He’s always approaching Taylor to talk about non sequiturs, usually morbid, and Taylor has gotten used to this and kind of enjoys it. “Speaking purely in hypotheticals, what do you think tastes better: the spleen or the lungs?” “Spleen. Why are you even asking me this? That one’s obvious.”

-But weirdly Albert is in exchange the one who actively cares the most for Taylor. He makes sure they’re stocked up on supplies, and by that I mean Taylor enters their designated bathroom to find no fewer than twenty toothbrushes, all different colors, bound with a ribbon and a note that says “Pick your favorite! ~AK”

-Also instead of taking them shopping for new college wardrobe, Taylor is awoken at 6 a.m. by a phone call from Albert. “I’m at Hot Topic and they have an assortment of androgynous leather accessories. What’s your size?”

-Vincent and Taylor don’t interact much, at first. But they develop a relationship based on their lack of relationship. They both enjoy the value of comfortable silence. They can be in the same room doing separate things and know they don’t have to bother with greeting one another outside of a quick nod or 0.2 seconds of eye contact.

-Right away, though, they all make it clear that Taylor gets free food. The trio does their usual routine of making extremely high-quality luxury food and just lets Taylor chill out doing nothing until the dinner bell rings. The catch is that some of these things, they weren’t sure were food before this, but hey, turns out they don’t hate sashimi.

-Classes start. Every day when Taylor gets home and brings their books and assignments of the day to the dining room to study, Albert and Victor flock around them. Albert: “How was school? Did you make any lasting memories? Do you have an ARCHNEMESIS yet?” Victor: “Does Professor Browne still have a stick up his ass, metaphorically speaking? Has anyone of your preferred gender asked you out yet?”

-Until dinner time, the dining room is Taylor’s study sanctuary.

-They know better than to bring friends home, however. Not a single college pal who’s entered Revenge House has left with at all a good feeling. Some of them have considered calling the cops because there’s no way these people aren’t going to murder Taylor in the dead of night (sillies...Taylor’s the one person they WON’T murder in the dead of night)

-And as for dates? Unfortunately, the few times Taylor has been asked out, they’ll keep it secret and arrange a meetup at a neutral location and show up at the restaurant only to, halfway through the date, realize that they can spot distinct flashes of pink, red, and black positioned around the restaurant like the Bermuda Triangle and greeeaaat, their guardians followed them to spy on the date.

-Which isn’t always bad because one time somebody actually tried to take advantage of Taylor in the alley out back of the restaurant and before any articles of clothing could be forcibly removed, the offender practically explodes from the impact of being shot by Victor, punched by Vincent, and stabbed by Albert at the same time (the bullet almost clipped Albert but it was worth it)

-Taylor’s never sure how to introduce these people. Parents? Guardians? Friends? Roommates? Usually, it ends up something like “This is my...this is...this is Vincent. He’s Vincent. That’s it.”

-They go out as a “family” unit sometimes, usually to dinner or something where they can all just have conversation. There’s usually going to be some rando who walks past the guys and goes “Your daughter is adorable!” and Albert pulls out a rather long and wicked knife while saying “Their preferred pronouns are they/them, and I HIGHLY suggest you respect that.” Victor and Vincent glare on in the background.

-Taylor is torn because they like having guardians who respect their gender identity but also some of these people are just making honest mistakes

-Victor: “I just want to warn you that when you engage with other college students, you may be pressured to try smoking, drinking, and other narcotics. In a strange environment, any of these may be laced with poison or spiked with different drugs. Here in Vincent’s mansion, our stashes are always pure, so if there’s anything you want, just ask us and we will get you a safe supply.” (Though “safe cigarettes” and “safe hard liquor” are oxymorons to a 19 y/o but Victor is trying. Taylor doesn’t even want any of those things)

-Sometimes, though........Taylor has to be the parent figure to these three

-They might end up trying to drink away their sorrows, falling asleep in a vomit-covered living room. Taylor will clean up any obvious mess and get them some pillows.

-Taylor: “So, did you ever want to...talk to me any more about the childhood stuff that was bothering you?” Albert: “...Yes”

-One night, though, they make a big breakthrough. They find evidence for the Myers revenge scheme and confront Vincent with it.

-Vincent tells them everything. Not without getting a little emotional.

-Taylor’s just like “Oh.”

-Somehow this turns into a hug.

-The guys FORBID Taylor from getting directly involved with Myers. That said...they do act a consultation role sometimes.

-Eventually they meet some of the basement cyborgs. Also they’ve gotten pretty friendly with the Dream Eaters. If all the guys are out of the house and Winston is doing his usual hermit thing, Taylor will be “babysat” by a group of awkward yet well-meaning monsters. (The Dream Eaters have been instructed to keep the cyborgs from eating Taylor, though, and they’ve had to actually step in several times. The Dream Eaters also like the taste of human flesh but Albert said this one is NOT FOOD so they respect that.)

-Those days when the guys come home dragging a corpse/an unconscious person, and Taylor catches them, and the guys stare at them like deer in headlights until they say “I never saw this. Carry on.”

-At some point, though, Taylor decides they want a little more, so they suggest “Do you guys wanna go to the mall and catch a movie?”

-Cue a mall trip that involves Vincent criticizing all the secondhand clothing, Victor flirting with the cashiers at every boutique, and nobody knows exactly what Albert is up to but there’s blood leaking from the dressing room so let’s not ask.

-They go to see a fall blockbuster that Taylor really enjoys and the three guys are having varying degrees of enjoyment toward. If it’s got deep themes, Vincent will be happy. If it’s got romance, Victor will be happy. If it’s horror, Albert will be happy. If it’s a superhero film, NOBODY BUT TAYLOR IS HAPPY (so they kind of like taking the guys to Marvel stuff to annoy them on purpose)

-They talk the guys into accompanying them on other Taylor-style adventures. Like bowling. Bowling was either the best or the worst idea they had, because it turned into a four-person DEATH MATCH. (Figuratively, this time. Maybe literally next time.)

-Vincent draws a HARD LINE IN THE SAND at pizza, though. He will not even look at a pizza, let alone eat one or enter a pizza establishment.

-After some months, Taylor and Vincent are conversing more, but it’s usually Taylor asking questions about how the legal system works because Vincent can explain it better than anyone else and in a way that doesn’t fly over Taylor’s head.

-Sometimes, though...Taylor gets sick. The first time, they didn’t actually expect any of the guys to do anything about it. But Vincent drops off hot meals without a word and leaves, and rude as he is, the food’s always DELICIOUS and particular faves of Taylor’s. Victor is the “Text me if you need anything, sweetie” guy who will drop everything if Taylor needs an ice pack or a barf bin. Albert will sit in the room at a safe distance to talk to Taylor about random things and make sure they don’t get lonely. Also, Taylor will have weirdly no nightmares whatsoever, and they know Albert has something to do with this.

-Sometimes...Taylor is sad. All three of the guys will sit around them, encouraging them to talk about everything that’s bothersome. Brief hugs will be exchanged (Victor’s are a bit too tight since, y’know, metal arms, but that’s fine by Taylor). And then if there was a particular entity that caused the sadness, well, that entity might end up dead in a pool of blood in a back alley later.

-There’s also a contract on the table stating that if Taylor is ever incarcerated, then Vincent, Victor, and Albert will break them out of jail at the earliest convenience. Taylor isn’t sure when this will ever have to be used but they’re glad it’s there.

-They make an even more amazing meal than usual for Taylor’s birthday and spend way, WAY too much on gifts. Some of which aren’t even things Taylor wanted (”It’s...a baseball bat with barbed wire around it. Uh...just what I always wanted? Thanks, Albert.”)

#vincent edgeworth #victor blake #albert krueger #taylor lee #blakeworther #ask to tag for content #somehow i REBLOGGED this instead of tagging it the first time #i blame tumblr

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theonlygamergost · 4 years ago

Text

A tattoo for a lost bet - Fd!au (1/3)

This fanfiction is based on the Family Dynamic au made by @antarctic-bay if you would like to know more, go check them out!!!

Also please bear in mind that the things written in this might not be canon!

This fic was corrected by the lovely @im-default

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

Techno and Skeppy bet on stupid things, and sometimes their bets can have very severe consequence if lost.

If you want to, look at what Minetra’s desing of Techno tattoo

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

Tw! Betting, swearing. Btw, this is very long

Next part --->

Enjoy~

Childhood friends usually have that one thing they used to do or say when they were young, maybe even a habit they caught together and never got rid of. Techno and Skeppy used to bet on the stupidest things when they were young… Well, they still do bet on the stupidest things, but there is a difference from when they were young: they have some money now.

It was very normal for them to bet a couple of dollars on the stupidest things.

“My bus is going to arrive earlier than yours” Bet

“I’ll finish my homework before you” Bet

“I’m betting that you can’t finish your burger before I do” You’re on.

And these are just some examples, they really betted on everything, and Techno won half of them.

That’s why Skeppy stopped betting too much money when playing with him, literally half of Techno’s income was his won bets against him.

That’s why Techno barely stepped down from a bet coming from Skeppy, he was so confident that he also would bet the stupidest things to gain some dollars.

They didn’t bet only money though, they bet other things like objects or small things they had to do if they lost.

And honestly, Techno was so confident he could win a 1v1 in Minecraft against Skeppy, even though if he lost, he had to get a tattoo.

He hadn’t played in a few days due to all-nighters for last-minute tests, but Skeppy was worse than him anyway, it would have been fine… Right?

“You should get something edgy... like a skull!”

“I hate you”

Skeppy laughed as they stood in the waiting room of a tattoo place in town, Techno had lost the bet, and now, he had to get a tattoo.

“Look, you’re lucky I didn’t specify what tattoo you had to get” Techno took off his glasses and allowed his head to fall into his hands, “I know, if it was for you I’d have a dick tattooed on my forehead” Skeppy laughed again, Techno just exhaled in exasperation, out of all of the times he had to lose a bet, why this one?

The customer before them got up and entered what they guessed was the studio, Techno tensed up a little bit

“Do you already have an idea of what you’re getting? I’m pretty good at suggestions” He announced proudly placing his hands on his hips, gaining a death stare from Techno. “You are the last person I’d ask for a suggestion” Skeppy whispered “Ouch” before both of them smiled.

“To answer your question, yes, I do have something in mind”

I mean… after passing an entire night up, looking at tattoo ideas, he had an idea of what he could get, he just couldn’t find a photo or a drawing of what he wanted.

“By the way… “ Skeppy slipped his phone out of his hoodie, “... did you tell Phil about this?”

He froze

Skeppy noticed

“Don’t tell me… “ The boy with the light blue hoodie didn’t finish the question, scared of the answer.

Techno sighed…

and nodded.

“OH MY GOD TECHNO!!!” Skeppy bounced out of his seat, “ I THOUGHT YOU TOLD PHIL ABOUT THIS!!!” Techno gestured at him to be quiet, Skeppy sat back down.

“Phil would have never agreed to this! I had to do this without telling anyone” The customer and the Tattooist came out of the studio, “Plus, I’m doing this somewhere I can hide it pretty easily” he reassured, but mostly himself.

“Dude, you sound like you’re getting it on your butt” Techno pushed him lightly in response.

As the customer left, the tattoo artist came up to them and asked who of the two were here to get tattooed, Techno took a deep breath and got up.

No turning back now

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

“I applied a layer of petroleum jelly and put on a bandage, you’ll have to keep it for about twenty-four hours” Techno carefully listened to the tattooist after stepping out of the studio, “To avoid getting an infection, wash it with an antimicrobial soap and water, you can find it in any store, I recommend patting it dry instead of scratching it, put vaseline on it and keep it moisturized,” Skeppy was comfortably sitting on the couch, half-listening to what they were saying.

“For how long do I have to do this? Techno gently placed a hand on his left shoulder, “It’s a pretty big tattoo so...about four weeks” Skeppy’s eyes widened, p-pretty big? Four weeks? What in the hell did Techno get?

“Remember to do the whole process two times a day and don’t expose it to the sun, if you ever have any questions or insecurities, come see me kid, no worries.” Techno politely thanked him and gestured at Skeppy to follow him out, oh boy did Skeppy have questions for him.

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

“THERE WAS NO NEED TO GET IT THAT BIG!!!” Skeppy freaked out when Techno had told him the tattoo went from his left shoulder all the way to his elbow, he could have just gotten a letter or a dot and it would have been fine for him.

“To be honest, I was thinking of getting it smaller, but then the tattooer showed me a design he drew and… “ Rubbing the back of his head, he explained to Skeppy what happened in the studio while he was deciding what to get tattooed. Skeppy calmed down hearing his friend happy about the choice he had made, hoping that he wasn’t going to regret it later.

“By the way… can I see it? Now you’ve made me curious!” Techno shook his head and Skeppy frowned in disappointment.

“I can’t show it right now, the bandages are on it and I can’t take them off for a day, maybe tomorrow at school” Techno smiled subtly, he will never admit this but he couldn’t wait to show Skeppy his tattoo.

Making their way to the bus stop, they shared earbuds to listen to some music, right now they were using Techno’s phone meaning that Monstercat was playing it their ears, specifically, “Call me” by Subtact.

But the music was just a background to fill in an eventual moment of silence, they had been talking since they left the coffee shop and the tattoo argument never left the conversation.

“Would you ever get a tattoo Skeppy?” Techno asked curiously, walking side by side with his best friend, his hands were casually placed in his hoodie’s pockets.

The brown-haired boy had his hands behind his head in a very anime-like pose, “Maybe, I think it would be way smaller than yours though” the sky over the city was grey, the sun’s light was barely able to pass through the immense stretch of clouds, summer was ending and school had already started.

The two young boys arrived at the bus stop and kept chatting until their ride home arrived, Techno’s bus arrived first so they waved their goodbye’s and went their own way.

While looking outside of the window, he started thinking about how to avoid any possible questions about the bandages in the bathroom that his brothers could find.

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

He opened the front door to find two brothers playing cards on the coffee table, both of them too absorbed in the game to greet him.

“What are you guys doing?” Techno passed next to them to go leave his bag into his room, “Waiting for you to get home, dinner is ready and Phil won’t be coming home until later” Wilbur spoke up, eyes fixed on his cards, “Don’t disappear Technoblade, I just need to heat the food and we can eat” Techno nodded and entered his room, opening his backpack to grab out the bandages and soap he bought before parting ways with Skeppy, he knew there was vaseline somewhere in the bathroom and Will had a moisturizing cream he never admits he has and uses, there was no point in buying them since they were at home already, he could just borrow them.

After taking his shoes off and slipping in his slippers, he exited his room to sit at the counter to eat with Wilbur and Tommy, placing his glasses by his plate and rubbing his tired eyes before taking his first bite.

There were about two or three minutes of silence before anyone started talking.

“Tubbo said that he, Nikki and Eret are planning on a movie night next Saturday, they invited us” Tommy broke the silence, the Berry siblings loved doing movie nights, they had a small projector which served as a monitor and a big ass couch where them plus the Pandel could all fit if squished a bit, reason why they usually invited them.

“I already said I’m going, you guys coming too?” He looked at his older brothers, but his gaze fixed on Techno’s left shoulder… was it just an impression or…?

“I don’t have anything to do so, yeah I’m down” Wilbur replied after taking a sip of water, “You Techno?”

Now both of their gazes were on the pink-haired brother, who was currently munching on a vegetable. “Yeah sure,” he shrugged it off, “Have you asked Phil yet?”

Tommy’s eyes were still fixed on Techno’s left shoulder, “No… I was thinking of…asking him when he came- Techno wh-why is your left shoulder bigger than usual?”

He almost choked on his salad.

“What are you- Oh… yeah, you’re right” Wilbur also looked at his shoulder, welp, fuck.

“I… uh…” Techno almost stuttered, he had forgotten how vigil and attentive to details Tommy could be… what could he tell them…

Saying that he got in a fight was the worst idea ever, knowing his brothers they would have asked him the name, grade and address of who did this to him, so that idea was out of the question.

Eh, just deny it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” he took another fork of his salad, trying to play it cool, “But I swear it looks-”

“Maybe it’s this hoodie” he quickly interrupted him, he had to get the attention somewhere else, fast.

“This hoodie is pretty fluffy and I didn’t use it for the entirety of summer so… “ He trailed off, leaving Tommy very suspicious.

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

The day at school wasn’t too different from others, the only “unnatural” thing he had to do was go get a violin and carry it from one side of high school to the other, thank god he usually carried stuff mostly on his right shoulder.

Speaking of carrying, he had to carry his backpack on only his right shoulder, a thing he despised and never did, but placing any type of weight on the new freshly-made tattoo stung a little bit, hopefully in a couple of days he could go back to using both shoulders normally.

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

“Bandages… vaseline… the soap is already in the bathroom… “ It had passed twenty-four hours from when he got the tattoo, it was time for him to change the bandage, and to do so, he wanted to be a hundred per cent sure he had everything he needed before going to the bathroom.

He grabbed all of the necessary things and peaked into the living room, Wilbur was in his room and Tommy wasn’t home yet so he took a deep breath and silently DASHED to the bathroom.

First thing first.

Lock. The. Door.

He wasn’t about to get walked in on by one of his brothers, so he locked the door and took another deep breath, he was now partially safe.

Underneath his hoodie, he had changed after arriving home into his only tank top, aka Wilbur got gifted one but he didn’t like it, so much that when doing laundry he had placed it in the stack of Techno’s clothes, so now it was his.

He didn’t want to do the whole operation shirtless so I guess the tank top was pretty convenient.

Stripping out of his hoodie, he looked at the bandages wrapped around his arm and the deep bags under his eyes: if someone else looked at him, they would think he was part of a gang or something.

Carefully peeling off the bandages, he realized that the skin around the tattoo was pretty red, the bits that were getting exposed to the air felt hot, it was going to be a big problem if he had gotten an infection.

As the last part came off, Techno looked once again in the mirror, the beautiful floral tattoo that he had seen drawn on paper by the tattooist look way better on skin, his skin.

Techno was afraid of regretting his decision, getting a tattoo this big from a day to another was careless of him, but god it looked pretty, he loved it.

Realizing that he was smiling at his own reflection, he shook it off and got back into a more concentrated state.

As the tattooist said, with a glass, he poured over the black ink cold water, his shoulders loosened up at the welcome sensation of chill washing over him.

He took the soap he bought and started making slow and soft circular motions, pressing as little as he could-

The sound of the handle trying to open the door made him jump, oh no no no, please…

“What do you want?” he recomposed himself and spoke with his usual unbothered voice, “Did you lock the bathroom Techno?! Why the fuck would you do that?!”, a high voice came from the other side of the door, Tommy must have arrived home from practice and he usually takes a shower right after entering the apartment so…

“It’s called privacy Tommy, plus I just got out of the shower, and no, I’m not rushing, I’m taking my sweet time” A loud groan could be heard right before footsteps walking away, Techno sighed, close one.

He continued taking care of his tattoo with extreme caution, washing away the soap, applying the vaseline, and wrapping it back up again. He threw everything in his drawer ( who usually only had the gel he occasionally used and his trusted comb), put on the hoodie again and shouted at Tommy that the bathroom was free.

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

After that, he went straight back into his room to work on the unusually low number of homework, unfortunately, it was French, so it didn’t matter how much stuff he had to do, it was going to take a long time either way.

He finished around the time that Phil got home, the older brother had the habit of greeting every brother one by one, so when a “Hello Technomate~” arrived from the slightly open door, Techno smiled and replied with the least dead-inside voice he could make: “Welcome back home Phil”

He was about to close his textbook as Phil’s voice in the distance asked him a question he wasn’t expecting.

“Hey Techno… Why do you have bandages in your drawer?”

Time stopped and Techno froze, a shiver shot up his spine. Why did Phil open his bathroom drawer?

“Uh… Well… Tommy sometimes comes home with cuts and bruises so I bought bandages in case he ever needs them” It wasn’t a lie, Techno would always patch up Tommy if he got hurt when his protect-the-weak vigilante moves failed him and he got some bruises, his voice was a little shaky but he was so far away from Phil that he probably didn’t notice.

“Huh… That’s… awfully empathic of you… “

Techno stood completely still for a couple more seconds waiting for him to find the antimicrobial soap and the vaseline, but it never happened.

He exhaled after taking off his glasses, throwing himself on the bed, turning to face the ceiling.

He didn’t regret getting this tattoo, but for how long could he keep it hidden from his brothers? For how long would he be able to lie to his brother?

Only time could tell.

#technoblade #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #ph1lza #the eret #nihachu #tubbolive #my writing #my fanfiction #fanfiction #writing #fd!au #fd au #mcyt #mcyt fanfiction

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talkfastromance4 · 4 years ago

Text

4. Minefields--Ashton Irwin ‘Lovers in a Song’ series

a/n: So while each ‘chapter’ is titled after a song it’s more of the mood and a few choice lyrics that really made the story. This story changed a lot as I wrote it but in the end it all flows really nicely together. I’m so excited to share this with you! Each part is 3,000 with the exception of the last part. Please don’t hesitate to send me messages, I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Word count: 3k

warnings: PLEASE READ THIS FIRST, there is physical abuse in this, it is minimal/accidental and happens after drinking/drug usage please, please read with caution, drug use mentioned briefly but no particular drug named, aftermath of drugs, aftermath of hit, more angst

Masterlist

LIAS masterlist

***

1 Year Ago

Cressida is flipping through her magazine on the couch in her hotel suite in Italy. She’s here on a promotional trip for the newest Brandy she helped design. It has a hint of vanilla and is in a beautiful gold bottle. Ashton gave her the idea.

Ashton is also in the hotel across the street. She wonders if he’s thinking of her too. The last time they were together they got into a big fight about Gavin and Lucinda. Ashton’s heard rumors he’s a part of a large drug cartel involving opioids, hallucinogens, the whole nine yards. Cressida disagreed because that’s all just rumors to stir the pot.

She fired back that Lucinda is only after Ashton’s money and plans on taking it all in a large divorce battle where she’d play victim. Ashton told her she was insane and they both left the hotel in huffs of fury.

She flips past a page that has her and Gavin blown up on both pages while they were out walking for lunch. The small article claims there’s “trouble in paradise and alcohol might be at risk.” Gavin has been partying a lot more recently and doesn’t come home until five a.m. most days. Cressida checks the watch on her wrist that matches the bracelet Ashton gifted her.

It’s nearly 2 in the morning now, her jet lag is still a nuisance. She glances to the open window and sees movement in Ashton’s room behind the white curtain. The only way she knows it’s his room is because that’s where they stayed while they were here that wonderful summer.

Her lips are pursed as she contemplates and thinks, eyes glancing to the pink rotary phone and the short yet oh so far distance to where Ashton is. Giving in, she reaches for the phone and dials the hotel’s number asking for the room Mr. Irwin is staying it. When asked who they should say is calling she told them, “say it’s Miss Gold.”

The phone hums in her ear and she saunters over the window waiting to hear his voice and to hopefully see him in the window.

“It’s you,” his voice is soft and quiet. He almost sounds relieved.

“It’s me,” she smiles and begins to pace. “I know this might be a mistake calling you this late but…”

“But what angel?”

The use of her nickname is a sign that he misses her too. She moves in front of the window and sees his silhouette facing her.

“These dreams I have of you aren’t real enough.”

He’s silent for a beat.

“Is he there with you?”

“No, he’s at some club. He doesn’t get back until early in the morning anyway, I could come over and—”

Cressida stops short because she hears a woman’s voice behind Ashton asking if he ordered the turn down service yet. Her heart sinks as she watches in horror when Lucinda wraps her arms around Ashton, their silhouettes become one large shadow. There’s a lump in Cressida’s throat and her vision becomes blurred with tears.

“Is that them? Let me tell them there were used towels—hello? I’d like to complain—”

Cressida slams the pink phone in its cradle, the ringer tings loudly as her tears fall in rage and hurt. She shuts her curtain and falls into bed falling asleep by draining the sadness from her heart.

There’s a New Year’s Eve Party happening at The Golden Lion and Cressida is there with Gavin. When she spotted Ashton by himself at the bar with a friend of his, Luke she thinks is his name, she wants to put on a show for him since Lucinda is absent.

Cressida’s felt embarrassed ever since that phone call to him in Italy. Clearly there’s something going on between Ashton and Lucinda, right? More than just publicity? Cressida downed two lemon shots in a row, loving the sweet and sour taste of the lemon and sugar.

Anytime she and Gavin were in eyesight of Ashton, she’d drape herself over Gavin and laughed extra loud. Sober, she’d hate herself for acting this petty, but being intoxicated made it all appear crystal clear. She could feel Ashton’s gaze on her the whole night until she ducked away to the bathroom.

When she exited she caught sight of Gavin with his hand up some woman’s dress and she’s giggling at something he’s saying in her ear. Cressida sees red, because not only is Ashton happy in his ‘relationship’ leaving her in the dust, but Gavin is also doing it for all the world to see.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Cressida shrieks making her way towards Gavin.

The girl he was hitting on gasps then quickly ducks away back into the main hall where the party is. Gavin sighs rolling his neck from side to side before facing Cressida.

“Please, don’t tell me you’re hurt about this,” he scoffs. “Why don’t you go run to Irwin?”

“What are you talking about? You can’t be seen making out with someone who isn’t me, not when our relationship is in the spotlight 24/7.”

“Oh, come on, you don’t need me to be in the spotlight. You don’t need anyone because you’re Cressida Leigh James, the princess of Brandy because your great grandaddy double-crossed his partner. Guess that does run in the family.”

Cressida felt like she got slapped. While her and Gavin’s relationship is merely for public eye, they always seemed to have gotten along pretty well. She thought they were somewhat friends, but she has been double-crossing him this whole time. She’s been double-crossing her entire family from three years ago.

“You really think I want to marry you?” Gavin stalks closer to her and she backs away, he’s never acted this way with her before. “You’re a selfish rich girl expecting that everyone loves you. I never did and I never will, so when it is announced that we are to be married, I’ll be as faithful as you’ve been to me. See you at midnight.”

He shoves past her and Cressida is left alone with her shame and guilt. It falls out of her from her tears that won’t seem to stop. She hobbles from the room to go back into the bathroom, she’ll stay there for the rest of the night. No one wants her. Ashton has Lucinda, Gavin has everyone else. While she’s swiping at her cheeks trying to dry her tears, she collides into someone and by the smell of his cologne she knows exactly who.

“Cressida? What happened?” Ashton asks steadying her by her shoulders.

“It’s not like you care,” she cries trying to continue her way past him.

“What are you talking about? Did Gavin hurt you? I’ll kill him, I swear I’ll—”

“I’ve hurt myself. I’m hurting other people, too. Leave me alone, Ash, you should be with Lucinda.”

“Angel—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I should have known you’d be right here waiting in the wings for her to fall back into bed with you, Irwin,” Gavin’s voice strikes her like a whip. “I came to apologize but I was right. You are a slut for him.”

“Watch your mouth, de Poiters,” Ashton warns shifting Cressida behind him. He takes a step closer to Gavin, his fingers twitching. He’s wanted to punch Gavin ever since he saw he’s been linked with Cressida.

Gavin laughs and comes toe to toe with Ashton, Cressida sniffles watching what will happen. She’s thankful no one else is around, but at the same time she almost wishes there were people witnessing. Then this whole hidden façade could end.

“You hit me then everyone will know about you. Even her Daddy.”

Ashton clenches his jaw and Cressida gasps. Why would he say it like that?

“I know a lot more than you two think,” he jeers. “But I guess I owe you thanks, because I don’t ever have to fuck her.”

Ashton’s fist connects with Gavin’s nose in record speed. Cressida shouts in surprise and watches in horror as they tousle, fists colliding with flesh and snatching onto shirts trying to get more than one hit in.

“Stop! Stop! Please!” Cressida cries trying to break them up.

A defensive backhand meant for Ashton strikes Cressida’s cheek and she falls to the floor with a pained scream. Her vision turns black and spotty, and her ear is ringing from the commotion above her.

“You bastard!”

“I didn’t mean to! Cress, are you all right? I’m sorry, please, I didn’t mean to hit you. I took some pills to ease off tension and—”

“Shut the fuck up and get away from her,” Ashton seethes shoving Gavin against the wall. His face is centimeters away from Gavin’s. “If I hear you talk disrespectfully to her again or if you lay a hand on her, I will kill you with my own bare hands. If you have any drugs that are near her, you get rid of them, you hear me?”

“Y-yes. Please, I’m sorry. I need to make sure she’s—”

“She’s not your concern now because you’re on a trip. Sober up and get out of my sight,” Ashton threatens pushing him towards the door. “She’s going to be with me until you stop acting like a fucking teenager and if I hear you’re anywhere near this building, I’ll have you arrested to rot in prison for life.”

Gavin gives one last pleading look to Cressida who is rubbing at her cheek before leaving. Ashton rushes to her side, his fingers graze at the shine on her cheek. It’s already bruising, and she flinches at his touch, her eye clamped shut.

“It’s me. He’s gone and I’m right here,” he soothes keeping his hand hovering above her face. “Can I help you up?”

She nods sniffling, her hands reaching out for him. She’s off balance from drinking and her head is still spinning from the backhand. Ashton helps her walk but it’s hard for her, so he just lifts her into his arms. She cries out in pain when her cheek rubs against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he hushes, “I’ll take you up to our room and clean you up.”

“Okay,’’ she whimpers, lips trembling. She closes her eyes to blink and when she opens them again she’s staring at their room. Her ears are ringing and it’s hard to see through her puffy eyes, both from crying and the slap.

“I’m setting you on the bed and I’ll call Louisa to send up your clothes and a first aid kit,” Ashton tells her. When he sets her on the bed he removes his hands from her like a hot iron. “No one will know what happened, okay?”

Cressida sways in her spot on the bed, her head feels really heavy and all she wants to do is sleep. It seems like forever until Ashton is back in front of her with a pile of clothes she keeps here that the staff washes and a first aid.

“Do you want to change first or have me clean your cheek?” Ashton’s voice is so soft it reminds her of a feather.

“Change. My feet hurt,” she whispers.

He helps her change out of her dress and into the sleep shorts and t-shirt. She lets out a cry when the fabric touches her cheek, he quickly apologizes then opens the kit. His fingers are very cool and gentle as he splays them on her cheek inspecting it.

“You’re bruising already,” he breathes then dabs at it with an alcohol wipe.

“Ow!” she cries.

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos sympathizing with her pain. “I need to clean it and Louisa brought up an ice pack so we can bring down the swelling.”

Tears roll down her cheeks as he cleans her up, he comments on what he’s doing, how well she’s handling it, and when he’s almost finished. He places a small band-aid on the small cut that’s on the apple of her cheek.

“You’re all done,” he kisses her hand then rests the ice pack on her cheek. She winces again when he places her hand over it to keep it on the most swollen part of her bruise. “What can I have the front desk send up for you?”

“Water,” she croaks, “and bread.”

“I’ll be right back.”

He’s gone again and she feels oh so tired, so she lays down on her side letting the ice pack stay on its own. It’s hard to see because her eye is swollen shut, the pack feels good on her bruise. She wants Ashton.

“I’m here, I’m right here,” his voice soothes, and she’s being lifted to the center of the bed. Cressida crawls onto his chest, his arms wrap around her protectively. Hesitantly, and very carefully, he kisses the top of her head.

He helps her drink the water that’s sent up and feeds her the bread in small pieces, it hurts her to chew. And all the while he holds her, his heart aching for her yet also bursting in happiness by being with her. He lays the blanket over them and holds the ice pack on her cheek while she sleeps. It’s a restless night, whenever she turns she lets out a small cry and Ashton is quick to pacify her.

The next morning, she can only see him out of her left eye because her right is shut completely. Ashton smiles at her warmly but then memories of the night before come creeping back. Gavin’s words, his and Ashton’s fight that resulted with her on the floor. Ashton’s lip is cut but other than that he still looks perfect.

“I bet I look horrible,” she croaks trying to sit up then groans. Her body feels like cement and her head is pounding. She lays her head back down gingerly on Ashton’s chest.

“You’re always beautiful,” his fingers rub over her hair, “you’re just a little bruised up right now.”

They lay in silence as the sun starts to rise, the light lifting higher and higher on the wall facing the window. The steady beat of his heart is a familiar tune to her ears. She’s been graced to be in his presence five months earlier than they planned and from what she remembers from last night, she’ll be here with him until Gavin’s sober.

That could take months.

“He’s never hit me before,” she tells him quietly. His fingers pause on her back. “And I know it was an accident. He’s also never talked to me how he did.”

“He was on something, Cressida. That’s why he was acting the way he was. I know it’s fake between you two, but I thought he had respect for you. I want to make sure you’re taken care of when I’m not with you. I meant what I said, you know.”

She shifts her head so she can look at him properly. He’s a little blurry from her distorted vision, there’s some scruff on his chin. The cut on his lip is dry and she’s confused.

“You were hit more than me and I’m the one who looks worse. And I know you did, thank you for helping me.”

“It’s always the beautiful things that suffer the most damage,” he kisses her head giving her a sad look. “I’ve missed you.”

“Lucinda wouldn’t like to hear that.”

“She’s not here.”

“She was with you in Italy.”

“Is that what has you so upset? I had to accompany her for fashion week, my whisky was the premiered drink. You honestly think I wouldn’t have called you over to my hotel room if she weren’t there?”

“Really?” she smiles but it’s more of a grimace. Even her lips hurt.

“Try and relax your face, angel.”

“It’s hard. I’m so happy to be with you. Is that twisted?”

“A little,” he grins, “but that’s part of your charm. You’re a twisted woman.”

She frowns remembering what Gavin had said, she really is a twisted woman.

“Hey, what he said to you wasn’t true. All four of us are guilty of pretending with each other and lying to everyone else.”

“So, you don’t have feelings for Lucinda?”

“I respect her business, she’s great at branding and marketing. She’s a friend, and she asks about you.”

“She knows about me?”

“It’s no surprise they both caught on eventually,” he smiles, “we’ve been doing this for a long time, angel, and always in the first week of May.”

She touches her cheek carefully; her head hurts from all the thoughts coursing through it and from the throbbing pain in her cheek. She’ll call Gavin later to make sure he’s all right and to let him know she’s okay. Maybe the four of them could come up with a plan where they could all be happy.

“Ashton?”

“Hm? Are you hungry? I told Louisa to have breakfast delivered by ten. I figured you’d sleep later.”

“No, I’m not—” she stares at him.

Memories of their past push away the dark parts that have occurred. This situation isn’t fair to any of them. Even this, her staying with him now might be a mistake, it’s all broken in so many ways. Ashton always puts her back together again, much like last night. They’re in a constant minefield waiting for a bomb to go off. Last night was explosive but it wasn’t the nuclear bomb ticking away like the time they share.

She’d walk through a hundred minefields to be close to him.

“Kiss me, please?” her request is so soft he barely hears her.

“What I risk to be close to you,” he sighs with a teasing grin before pressing his lips ever so carefully on hers in a tender kiss, and she smiles in contentment. She doesn’t know how long they have, but any amount of time is worth it. Ashton is worth it.

“I still belong with you.”

Taglist: @calpalirwin @myloverboyash @loveroflrh @cxddlyash @princesslrh @spicylftv @notinthesameguey @itjustkindahappenedreally @calumance @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sarcastically-defensive17 @another-lonely-heart @devilatmydoor @thatscooibaby @suchalonelysunflower @dead-and-golden @mymindwide @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @karajaynetoday @quasighost @i-like-5sos @creampiecashton @calpops @littledrummeraussie @sexgodashton @f-mu @mystic-232

#lias #lovers in a song fic #ashton irwin au #ashton irwin angst #ashton irwin smut #ashton smut #ashton angst #ashton 5sos writing #ashton 5sos #ashton 5sos fic #5sos fic

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lluvguts · 3 years ago

Text

Cool Blue ; Chapter Ten

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waiting for stars to intertwine

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☽ a/n: totally forgot to add this to the masterpost. if you've read ch ten on ao3 already than ignore this update!! there's gonna be a wip coming yall's way soon too, so be on the look out for that!! <3 love you guys

☽ warnings: blood, self-harm mention, angst

☽ fic masterlist

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Luca's heart hammered in his chest, the pain resurfacing, and no matter how hard he hugged his sides, trying to squeeze the heat from inside of him like slippery seaweed, nothing worked. He swam past the island, to cooler, harsher waters, to his home--his actual home. Not whatever he was feeling when he was around Alberto; whatever sort of home that was.

He told Alberto. A monster. That was what he was. He wasn't human, and Alberto made quick use of that information by shoving him off his knees in one swift motion, and leaving his dried-out beach towel as a reminder of it. He told him. So why did he...let it get the best of him?

His head swam, a thick heat-haze clouding his thoughts as he neared the mossy structure, blinking in the darkening waters. Luca touched the edge of the cave entrance, and winced hearing his mother's sharp intake of breath at his presence outside the house. She appeared, followed by Lorenzo, glaring down at him.

"Uh..." Luca mumbled, his words slurred. The throbbing in his gut hadn't dissipated yet, and neither had the phantom-like trembling between his shorts. "...Hey mom? Can - Can I come in?"

Daniela assessed her son before her, the shine, the sweat from Alberto's dark skin had crept beneath his scales and made a home there in the crevices, like old sand. He breathed, and the older boy's (the human's, he corrected himself) smell came rushing back with full force. Immediate. Filling his lungs sweetly but enough that he spluttered on the bubbles slipping under his tongue.

"I told you," Daniela said sternly to Luca's father. "When am I ever wrong?"

"What are you talking about?" Luca's mind began to wander without any direction, aggressively going back to the one time when he was younger and would often forget his curfew at sunset, and Daniela had joked (or had she?) she'd send Luca to The Deep with his uncle if he didn't come home at a reasonable hour. "I know it's late, I'm sorry! I just caught up in something, I swear it won't happen again Mom!"

Lorenzo frowned from behind his wife and placed his webbed hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. It was an unspoken discussion translated between the tense water.

"No, 'Renzo! Don't start with this now! You smell it too!" Daniela growled, taking her son's arm and lifting him up in the water, sniffing his crown of blue fins. "So strong, it's a damned sailor's lighthouse beam!"

"And it's land monster too..." Lorenzo commented softly, scenting the air. Daniela's eyes widened in her anger and her grip on Luca tightened.

Her tone was dangerous, venom. "You went to the land monster town? Where there's humans? In your heat??"

"Mom, no--" Luca protested, her claws beginning to hurt from where they were grasping his shoulder.

"Don't interrupt!" She snapped back. Her tail thrashed in the water, making Luca tense even though his body was already on-edge. "You...You're gonna have to wait this out someplace else! We'll send for Ugo. I can't know that my baby was out there...doing things...with some filthy land monster girl."

"Boy."

Luca and Daniela turned to see Lorenzo, who flushed in embarrassment at getting noticed.

"What?"

"It's clearly a boy, Daniela," Lorenza swam closer and examined the fevered pink scales on Luca's waist and chest. "Smell it. It's...I don't know, hun. It's stronger, I guess. I know when there's a man on those land monster boats, and that," He pointed to Luca. "Is definitely a boy. Land monster. A boy-human, whatever."

Monster. A monster. That was what he was. Luca hovered above the long sea grass of their home, in awe. He could get all of that, just by smelling him?

Daniela's flashing yellow eyes brightened and she clamped her mouth shut, words coming out quick and held back. "That...That. Doesn't. Help."

She released Luca's arm and went to Lorenzo. Luca's tail curled protectively around his leg, trying to soothe himself.

"W-Wait! You can't just leave me out here!"

"We're not leaving you," Lorenzo replied simply. "But until your heat is over, you can't be around the other kids, Lu. It's better if you stay with your uncle Ugo until the Summer season is over."

They had gone. Luca watched, but didn't truly see his parents' figures fade into the darkness of the house, where they slept, and he remained awake.

"Stupid heat! I - I hate being like this!" Luca curled in on himself, claws raking his belly, long rutted cuts chasing his fingertips. The pain burned, deeper now with the thin streams of blood billowing up above his line of vision in watery red ribbons. He averted his wavering gaze, but the blood was everywhere, seeping into his very scales. Everything simmered, a constant feeling of dread and want that was unreachable, had no low point but only one shattering crescendo all throughout his body. Constantly. Searching for relief Luca dug his claws into the pink scales deeper, stronger...

"Luca!"

"...Alberto?"

It was just a dream--or a memory. The clean tile walls of Alberto's bathroom came into focus, half-blurred from where he was lying, curled in a ball along the water in the bathtub. Alberto rose sleepily from the floor, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. At some point in the night bath towels were placed in the water for Luca, and though he didn't remember when it had happened, sifting through the weird reoccurrences of the day before, Luca knew Alberto had done it. He looked around in the stagnant bath water, to his abdomen, and the flakes of dry blood that floated across the shiny film of the surface like autumn leaves. He shivered.

The memories were short, hardly a scratch on Luca's conscious mind. Alberto had carried him all this way, from the boat into the house. A tiny serving dish once had peaches on it, but only smelled faintly of them now. Giulia's voice (what he could recall of it, trying to think back made his head hurt, everything hurt, really. He hardly remembered much of Giulia, except for her wild eyes and equally brazen red hair) was tender behind the door the night before, whispering and giggling to Alberto. She left to sleep, and Alberto stayed. He really, truly stayed. And the pain. The pain, the stupid sea-folk problems he couldn't just wait out or buddy up for--

"Are you okay?" Alberto put one cautious hand on the lip of the bathtub, eyeing him. Luca shook his head, as if to chase away the feeling, then realizing it actually translated as a no, Alberto I am anything but okay right now, he nodded his head with more urgency. He shifted in the water, the bath towels huddled around his body made a sort of nest, Luca noticed, even if he had been the one to do this. A nest, making a home for a mate, for love...even out of instinct. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did he even--

"If you say so," Alberto yawned and fell back onto the pillow he'd brought from his room, and tugged the blanket closer around his chest.

"You..." Luca tried, scanning the faded paint on the bathroom walls, the chipped mirror, the little smudge in ink over the medicine cabinet. He avoided looking at the crumpled blue tarp cast over by the toilet. "You stayed here? With me?"

"W-Well," Alberto spluttered, laughing a bit, not glancing at him. "I kinda had to. Cause, you know, no one knows you're here. And - and, my Papa had work today. Well he doesn't, not really. It's too early in the day for anyone to be open after yesterday, but he likes to be in the town with his buddies sometimes, when everyone else is asleep."

I kinda had to. Like he was...liable. He was just a...what was the word Giulia used? A little pet.

"Oh. Right, okay," Luca said absently, tracing his claw on the edge of the tub. Monster. Stupid monster. Dumb heat. Animal. Stupid, horrible, disgusting--

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Where's Giulia?" Luca asked finally, maybe a little too quickly.

"Oh! She's uh...probably still sleeping."

"I'm sorry, Alberto."

"Do you maybe want to, um...talk about it?"

Luca put his chin on the edge of the bathtub. "About what?"

"The uh...back at the island--" Alberto wrinkled his nose and stared at his knees.

"Not yet." He felt Alberto's green eyes on his scales, whispering, prodding ever so softly. But he just wasn't ready.

"Hey, it's okay," Alberto leaned down and put his head at eye-level with Luca. "It's a sea monster thing, right?"

Luca nodded, wiping his flushed face. He couldn't cry, sea-folk weren't designed for something like that, but the burning in his eyes sure felt like he was.

"We have things like that, too. For humans, I mean." Luca hated that Alberto used that word, it was...a barrier. Human. Alberto blushed and looked away. "It's pretty embarrassing, actually. But, we go through it too, you don't have to feel so alone...It's normal."

"But..." Luca mumbled, his hands clenched beneath the water. But what I did...It was gross. Why haven't you left yet? Why aren't you turning me in? I'd be worth a lot of money above the water, I'm sure. Alberto? Are you even listening? Take me away! Send me to The Deep--

"Don't be sad."

"I'm not." He muttered.

"We can do something else," Alberto said back, sitting up now to straighten out his blankets. "And if you want to talk about it later, then you can. Since you're...uh...sounding a bit more present now.

"Okay...What is it?"

He watched him rise off the floor and gather the blanket and pillow to his chest, and head for the door. Alberto looked back over his shoulder, smiling now.

"As long as you don't eat it...We can paint?"

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