#ill wipe that fake ass smile off her face

[avatarl0v3r]

Pink + White | Part Two

warnings/notes: strong language, italics with "quotes" =your video log of your time studying the fauna and flora of pandora, bold = song lyrics

side notes: each phase will be associated with a song, phase ones song is Pink + White by frank ocean

pink + white master list.

part one. part three

taglist: @itscheybaby @brookesbizzareadvendture @jakesully-sbabygirl @myheartfollower @inlovewithpandora

Its been a month since jake come into your lab looking for his kids, after that day they started visiting you more and more, they were glued to your hip anytime jake would want to train neteyam he would run into your lab asking you to hide him which you did.

your studies on the flora and fuana went well but training with jake was also take up much of your time and kicking your ass.

--

"as much as i love this place it can sometimes be overwelming," you sat at your desk logging your studies "but i dont regret a single moment, i love these kids like my own at this point, they tell me everything, come to me for help, when someone got hurt, if they have a argument... i wouldnt change it for the world," you turn around hearing voices of little kids "this is y/n l/n signing off."

--

you turn around once you hear the footsteps outside the door the kids come inside with large smiles "we wanna show you this plant we found when walking home from playing in the forest all day" you smiled walking over to them.

Nod my head, don't close my eyes

Halfway on a slow move

It's the same way you showed me

If you could fly then you'd feel south

Up north's getting cold soon

you bent down hugging the kids "i love you guys" they all giggled "we love you too" neteyam said speaking for all of them when you let them go.

tuk walked to you her hands outstreched wanting to be picked up "c'mon tuk tuk," you picked her up sitting her on your hip "its eclipse id better get you home lets go" you say grabbing a mask and putting it on your face and heading out you lead the way to their hut.

jake emerged from the hut looking down at you with a questioning look "i brought the kids home" you put tuk down on her feet "ill see you all tomorrow after i finish training with your dad okay" "okay" they said with smiles you stood up turning around after saying goodnight to all of them.

--

the next day norm woke you up "time for training your links ready too" you groaned wiping sleep out of your eyes "this is such bullshit, making me wake up at the brink of goddamn dawn" you said standing up and walking to your link.

you walking to your link bed and laid in it "you ready" norm said from the controls next to the bed "sure" you said giving him a fake smile "good" and with that you closed your link bed and your eyes.

--

you opened your eyes now in the tent where the avatars stayed you grabbed your bow putting it around your shoulder and walking to your usually meeting place.

after what seemed like forever jake walked up to you "sorry about that, lets head out" you nod following him to the vines that fell to the ground you both grabbed on and went out into the forest to train for god knows how long.

--

you missed majority of the targets "c'mon y/n wheres your head at" you looked at jake with a blank face "thinking about my goddamn head" he cracked a smile "okay then smartass we'll stay out here until you hit every target" you let out a annoyed groan at his words.

soon you hit every target and you dropped the bow and laid on your back with a content sigh your peace was interrupted by a voice “i know you aren’t that tired from just that” you glared at him with a faked annoyed face “oh no surely i’m not only sore arms and legs for standing for a few fuckin hours, no wonder neteyam tries to get outta training” you said laughing jake rolled his eyes “your almost ready you know” you nodded.

“let’s head back the kids are waiting to see you” jake noticed the change in your attitude when he mentioned the kids “god if i didn’t know any better i would think you liked the kids more then me” you smiled at him “of course i do they’re less annoying unlike their father who very annoying.”

—

when you arrived back at high camp you were greeted my the kids all running to you and grabbing your legs almost making you fall over at the contact “ we missed you” the said hugging your legs tighter “i missed you too” you laughed.

they let you go not even glancing at their dad “we made you something come with us” they said as they pulled you away from jake you laughed following them waving goodbye to jake, who watched his kids drag you away with a smile on his face.

The way it is, we're on land

So I'm someone to hold true

Keep you cool when it's still alive

Won't let you down when it's all ruin

—

the kids handed you two woven necklaces you looked confused for a moment for kiri spoke “one’s for your avatar and the others for you so you can always wear it” lo’ak cut it “yea, your pretty much our mom now so we thought to make you a necklace” smiled at them taking the necklace for your avatar and putting it on and sliding the on for you in your pocket.

you bend down hugging them “this makes me so happy thank you” they all hugged you back “oh yea there’s a bead from each of us,” neteyam said smiling “you like it right?” neteyam asked the smile on his face gone and a nervous look on his face “i love it.”

—

a few months later

within the four months of being on pandora you got used to the kids calling you mother, mom, mama, mommy but only tuk calls you that, they know your not their real mom, but you don’t mind it.

you and jake grew closer, you never noticed whenever you would talk about plants to jake he would look at you with so much love in his eyes, and how you looked at him with love amanté was the first to notice it.

how you would help jake when he got hurt when he was out at the war party you were subtle with you feelings knowing he wouldn’t feel like same, but he loved when you’d take care of him he wouldn’t admit it though.

Just the same way you showed me, showed me

You showed me love

how his mood would change when you’d come around, how his eyes were filled with love when you talked about anything you loved.

Glory from above

Regard my dear

jake thought about it but never thought he could love another person after neytiri so he denied all of it to himself.

It's all downhill from here.

this is a shorter one, and one i hate it, and kinda rushed i wanted this to be a slow burn but i’m terrible at slow burns so that’s why there’s times skips but the next parts should be longer 🫶🏽

[knpjpr]

fucked up. | jjk sm au

⇆series: #fake

⇆main ship: gamer!jungkook x student!reader

⇆genre: angst, angst, and angst and then some fluff

⇆word count: 4.5K (unedited)

⇆warnings: theres cussing, unprotected sex, (wrap it up smh.) riding, dirty talk, tension between yn and jungkook, slut shaming, taehyung x lou ;), taejoon friendship confirmed, jimin and yoongi fight, jungkook and yn fight, everyone is messy tbh

⇆ a/n: if you'd like to be added to the taglist, send me an ask + time stamps are in this part for a reason

Yn ; October 31th | 11:21 pm

The minute you and Lou are entering the house, everything is in full swing. People scattered all around, some at the bar table filling their cups with whatever type of booze they could, others dancing, playing beer pong, and much more that you knew Jin would throw a fit about later.

Lou is parting ways with you, automatically walking her way to the booze table and pushing some guy you’ve never seen over as you make yourself home to a space on the couch. Lou looked pretty, just like your dark angel costume, she’d placed herself in a white version, the curve of her body showing nicely. She was indeed a pretty angel.

Taehyung is the second person who you see tonight, walking up to you with the same smile you’ve known since fifth grade. “Care if I join you?” He’s noticeably a vampire, the corners of his mouth leaked with fake blood as his red contacts contrast with the costume.

“Sure, Lou went and ditched me… as usual.”

He’s laughing, the only sound that made you feel comfortable in this crowded house full of people you’ve seen but never made the time to get to know. The two of you had finally been able to talk after a long time and it was nice. You and Taehyung were good friends and you hoped it stayed that way.

“I like your costume.” He says, taking a quick glance over at your outfit, but deciding that if he looked any further it would make you uncomfortable.

You’re smiling at him this time, settling into the party as your side tucks into his. “You want something to drink?” Nodding slowly, Taehyung is standing up and walking towards the bar table.

It had been a few minutes of you sitting there when you decided to walk around the place. Loud music with people’s chatter to overlap with it. You easily are swinging past bodies, trying to find Taehyung’s figure who wasn’t at the bar table any more. It wasn’t until you feel a hand on your shoulder when you are close by the backyard sliding doors that you stop. “Hey.”

You turn and there Jungkook is, red solo cup in hand, and a smile placed on his face as your heart pounds. He looks hot, black hood over his head with clown makeup decorating his face, his jeans ripped like always. His costume was simple, but even so, still made your heart race.

He had been waiting to see you all night, got here early due to Namjoon’s request to get out the house and help, and so seeing you here made his heart happy, made him happy.

He’s taking a long glance down your body, swallowing hard when he notices that you aren't wearing alot to cover your figure, parts of your body like your cleavage and thighs on full display to him. “Like what you see?” You tease as he frowns down at you, which has you laughing, unintentionally placing your hand on his chest.

His gaze softens the minute your touch is all he feels. “Why don’t we go somewhere quieter?” He asks, watching as you move closer to him every time someone pushes past you. “Sure, follow me.” You say as you slip your hand into his and start leading him past others, not noticing the blush that rises on your cheeks.

Namjoon ; October 31th | 11:37 pm

Namjoon was a tall.. a little too tall handsome guy, to which he had found out by the longing glances he would get from girls and even so guys. This was not his usual thing, never had himself at a party so he was determined to find someone he knew and hang with them for the majority of the night.

Slipping past a few people, he’s coming into sight of Taehyung, choppy brown hair displaying in messy waves as a red solo cup had been accompanying him for the night. Namjoon is walking up to him, dimples on full display, which has Taehyung splitting his gaze from something to him in an instant. “Yo dude, like your costume.”

Namjoon did not plan to go all out for this simple halloween party, and seeing as Jin told him that it was a costume party, he opted to dress up as his future career. He wore a bright orange nasa jumpsuit, one that his mom bought him per his request. He wanted to be an astronaut and sure hell this kid could do it.

“Thanks.” Namjoon takes a seat beside Taehyung, finally realizing that his attention wasn’t on the 5’11 tall ass guy seated next to him, but rather on a shorter girl who’s doe eyes were scanning around the kitchen.

Namjoon recognized her almost instantly, didn't even have to question it by the way Taehyung is sighing hard. “When has she looked that pretty, and why am I just realizing this.” He blurts, Namjoon not knowing if he’s talking to him or to the air that this party didn’t have enough of.

“Why don’t you talk to her?” Taehyung cocks his head in Namjoons direction, an unrecognizable look on his face. He had been watching her the minute he assumed you found Jungkook, his gaze not being able to falter at all from her direction.

“I don’t know man, I don’t want to fuck up our friendship.” Taehyung admits, he didn’t know whatever the feeling that he felt right now was. But he did know if he were to explore it, he could possibly fuck it all up.

“Well, you never know. That’s why they are called “leaps of faith,” namjoon shifts in his spot on the couch, watching as the girl they had been looking at is startly approached by another figure. “You never know. If you don’t go, others will.”

Taehyung doesn’t need to be told twice, getting up from his seat the minute the girl’s face crinkles in uncomfortableness at the other unknown guy. Taehyung didn’t know what would come out of him and Lou, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t ignore how he felt at that moment.

Jimin ; November 1st | 12:03 pm

If there was one thing Jimin knew, it was that costumes at Halloween parties are not mandatory. He very much disliked dressing up in some tacky costume, like a couple who had just walked past him as a firefighter and a dalmation. Fucking lame.

Instead, Jimin dressed hot, dressed in clothes that he wore all the time, but for Yoongi, it made his heart pound and Jimin knew that. Could tell all just by the way Yoongi would take long glances the whole ride to Jin’s and would constantly suck in air the minute Jimin is softly brushing against him.

Jimin had been seated on one of the bar stools in the den of Jin’s house, carefully watching as Jin and Yoongi go at it in a round of beer pong. Yoongi was losing terribly, his attention too intertwined with the blonde that was sitting comfortably behind him.

Jin’s turn was next, only had three more cups to go before Yoongi was completely plastered, which meant that Jimin would have to drive them home. Yoongi was already starting to become drunk, the smell of booze making Jimin’s nose crinkle in a cringe. Drinking was overrated.

Jin takes one of the balls in his hands, angling his hand as he squints before chucking the ball, the sound of a plastic ball hitting liquid making Yoongi groan. “F-fuck man.” Yoongi grunts, slipping the ball out of the cup before tipping the cup up to his lips and chugging the rest of its contents.

Jimin watched with distaste, Jin smirking widely before waiting for Yoongi to try his shot with the remaining eight cups left on Jin’s side. “Man, I think it’s far to see I've won.” Jin says taunting but Yoongi glares hard at the older male. “You, you shut your big lip ass up. I can do it just fine you f-fucker.”

Yoongi reaches his hand down into the small basket full of ping pong balls, grabbing the plastic orb and trying to copy Jin’s movements, but failed with a drunken stance, the ping pong ball bouncing off the table and onto the floor.

“S-shit.” He groans, Jin smirking as Jimin rolls his eyes. There was no way that Yoongi was going to win and it was starting to annoy Jimin because he was sitting here watching him just drink and drink.

Soon enough Yoongi was sipping down his last drink, proving ultimately that Jin won fair and square. “Damn dude, usually you beat me. Must be my lucky day.” Jin laughs out and Jimin slips off from the bar stool. “I’m going to go get me some water.”

Yoongi being completely plastered was a bad thing. Not only was he extremely clumsy but he was ill-tempered and acted rash and right on the spot. So the minute he’s coming to the conclusion Jimin’s leaving him behind, he’s turning fast and accidentally spilling the remainder of booze on Jimin’s clothes.

“Fuck! Baby I didn’t mean to.” Yoongi says, not paying attention to the looks people are starting to give the minute they realize what just left his mouth.

Jimin didn’t care about his clothes, but what he did care about was Yoongi just outting them out. Outting him out. Yoongi had been trying to wipe away the stain with his hand, not even understanding that wasn’t how it worked.

Jimin slapped his hand away, Yoongi’s face forming into a frown as he realized Jimin was pissed. “Don’t fucking touch me.” Yoongi finally realized around him that people were watching, looking back at Jimin.

And here came the ill-temper that Yoongi had when drunk.

“Are you fucking embarrassed of us? What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Yn ; October 31th | 11:42 pm

You had found no one occupying Jin’s guest room, slowly leading Jungkook inside and locking it so no one could come busting inside and interrupting the two of you. Which was usually drunks and or people looking for places to fuck.

Jungkook sat on the end of the bed, his usual man spreading pose coming into your line of sight. It makes you blush, having to stop yourself from being anymore of a fool that you could possibly be.

“Hey, you can come sit too.” Patting with persistence you’re sitting down with a slight giggle that has Jungkook smiling back at you. He had noticed the blush that placed your cheeks, his starting to burn.

“You’re blushing.” You blurt out, that has Jungkook flinching as a slightly irritated look was on his face. “You’re the one who’s blushing.” He says, eyebrows furrowed as you look away from, trying to cool down your face.

“It’s because of you,” he speaks out, his straightforwardness never faulting in his personality. You turn your head to face him, face bright red with doe eyes piercing his gaze. “It’s because of you that is making me blush.”

At this moment your heart is beating fast, his body shifting closer to yours as you swallow hard. Jungkook has always been clear cut, always knew what he wanted, but when you came along, his dynamic changed. He wanted you, and he wanted to prove it.

“Tell me if you don’t want to.” That’s all he says as he waits for your response. Your heart almost about to burst out of your chest. You wanted this, for him to kiss you again and to be wrapped up in just him. “Go ahead..”

That is all you had to say before his lips are in the space of yours, hearts beating at the same pace together. His hand slowly creeped up and intermingled with yours. Your stomach filled with butterflies, his warmth and smell surrounding your senses.

The next thing you knew, you were spread out on the sheets of Jin’s guest room, Jungkook’s flushed face and deep breaths as he doesn’t know what he wants to do first. “I don’t have a condom.” He says, because obviously he didn’t think he would be over your naked body like this, about to fuck you like this.

Your response is filled with shyness, the fact you’ve never let someone look at you like this, and because he didn't know he looked so adorable at this moment. Hair standing up every which way, eyes hooded, and cheeks pink. “You can continue..”

“Is this your first time?" He asks as though that should be the response to what was about to happen. You can't help the giggle that tumbles from your lips, gesturing along to his slightly shocked face. "Yeah, it is." 

He's coming over to you, looking you in the eyes as you slightly bite a hold on your lip. "Ah, uhm okay. I’ll be gentle, just tell me if anything is hurting." He talks distractedly as he investigates your body and you can't tell if he’s nervous or just doesn't know what he’s doing.

Whenever he's settled on his decision, he's moving to lay over you once more, your legs spread out towards him. Going to press another kiss to your mouth, however you're halting him before your lips are contacting. "You can chill too, you know? I don’t expect this to be perfect." 

He’s nodding his head, before sitting up and pulling his shirt off his head, which was the last article of clothing that made the two not fully naked.

"How about you ride me," An idea that plainly flew into his head, however he's finishing, moving back and onto his back. You couldn’t help the blush that crept up on your face the minute his hands came in contact with your waist, placing you above his torso.

He’s moving to align himself perfectly with your entrance, a slight moan escaping from your lips the minute you're slowly slipping to be seated on him. He groans, his hands coming to make a place on your hips. You didn’t know what to do at first, this had been your first time, and it wasn’t like you were taking notes on how to be fucked.

It was the way he would moan differently that had you figuring out a better pace for the both of you. His head had been placed back into his pillow, at an angle to where he could watch how your tits would bounce and exactly how your wetness would pool down onto his dick. “God fuck baby, you feel so fucking good.”

His words rolled off his tongue with such ease, you hadn’t been uncomfortable at all by his dirty talk. And he knew that just by the way your walls would clench and a longed out whine would slip past your lips. If you did that again he probably would have cum right then and there.

His hands held a tighter grasp on your hips the minute you were placing your hands to rest on his chest, your hips rolling at a quicker pace, his dick rubbing up and down on your walls. “Fuck..” His tip slips back as you bring down your hips back onto him. 

“Yeah baby, just like that." He praises, voice stressed as he feels his cock jerk somewhere inside you. He's not even sure where you learned this, because plot twist you didn’t learn it anywhere. Your pussy fixes around him at the finish of his words and it pushes him to the edge, making him throw his head back again.

It’s when he’s feeling his high coming that he’s moving your back, your chest pressed to his as he’s moving his legs and thrusting into your pussy. You moan loudly, his nails digging into your hips as your hands are tangled in his hair. Lips finding each other as you could feel your climax reaching too.

He doesn’t stop his fast thrusts until your moaning non stop, the feel of your nails digging hard into his hair, legs shaking uncontrollably as the two of you are hitting your climax. The sound of his moans mixing with yours as the only person you thought about was him.

His arms stay around your body until the roll of your hips transforms into little jerks, gasped breaths hitting his neck which has him smiling softly. His neck cranes so he can get a decent glance at your face, a fucked out smile on your face. “Damn, dick that good?” He teases as he feels a huff pressed to his skin.

You're fast to turn in his arms, scrunching your nose as you gaze toward him. "You suck, you really looked hot in that costume," He laughs loudly at that, as he rests his nose in the crook of your neck. You're immediately loaded up with warmth as his arms wrap themselves around your waist. He wanted nothing but to stay in this moment with you.

An all around recognizable feeling starts to pool in your stomach. It was beginning to get harder to contain your complete infatuation with Jungkook, to hold yourself back from falling excessively fast. The way he had been holding onto you gently, drawing circles with his fingertips, and even humming softly, you knew you were fucked.

Yn ; November 1st | 12:37 pm

Soon enough Jungkook is slipping away from your grasp, checking the constant notifications dinging from his phone which made him shoot up from the bed and hurry up to put on his clothes.

“Woah- Is everything okay?” You ask, pulling the sheets with you to cover yourself. Jungkook could see the worried expression on your face, “Yeah baby, don’t worry Hoseok needs me down stairs, Jimin and Yoongi are fighting.”

The minute you are hearing his words, you have to digest. First, he called you baby and boy did you like it, and second Jimin and Yoongi were fighting? You were shocked, hurrying to get out of bed but Jungkook is stopping you.

“No. You stay here okay? I’ll come back after it’s all done, it’s just so you don’t get hurt.” That’s all he says before he’s rushing out of the room leaving you with a shocked and worried feeling.

It had been about twenty minutes and Jungkook still hadn’t come back, so you decided that you would go see what was going on by yourself.

Walking down the stairs in one of Jin’s hoodies and shorts, you heard a lot of yelling, but most importantly crying. Slipping through a few people your heart almost broke at the sight.

Jungkook had been holding back Yoongi as Hoseok and Jin did the same with Jimin, Yoonig’s face streaming with tears, eyes red and nose bloodshot. “Why the fuck are you so scared huh?? Am I nothing to you?!?” He screams, trying to claw out of Jungkook’s hold as Jimin’s eyes are just as hurt as Yoongi’s are. “I never said shit about that Yoongi! I just wished you would have given me time!”

Yoongi can’t control what he’s feeling at that point, tears still streaming as he’s still trying to fight his way out of Jungkook's hold. “You’re my fucking boyfriend Jimin?! Why is that so hard to accept??” Everyone is shocked as Jimin breaks down. You had never seen Yoongi so hurt before, never seen him cry and sure as hell never seen him interested in someone. Jimin doesn’t even look Yoongi in the eyes before he’s leaving, slipping past people who were recording, tears streaming through both of their eyes. Yoongi screams after him, begging him to stop walking and come back but Jimin doesn't and you could tell it broke Yoongi more.

Soon enough Jin announces the party will continue and for no one to panic as him and Jungkook lead Yoongi up towards his room, trying to calm down the crying guy with every walk.

You needed something to drink after that, today was a lot to process and a drink from whatever was in the bottle that was in your hand would suffice. “Now bitch, boy do I have some tea to spill for you.” Lou’s voice rang from beside you, a bright smile on her face.

She instantly notices you’re in Jin’s clothes, but decides that she’ll ask you about it later, but first she needs to tell you about what she just experienced. “Girlfriend guess who just kis-” She doesn’t even get to finish her sentence before someone is walking up.

Lou steps beside you the second her personal space is being invaded, the look on the guys face nasty and uncomfortable. “I’m glad I finally found you again, I never got to ask your name before that one guy came.”

From the way Lou shudders and the way he talks you can tell she’s met him and doesn’t want to again. “Listen dude, she’s not interested.” You speak up, but the guy doesn’t take his hint, a sour look on his face the minute you’re interjecting.

“Listen bitch, why don’t you go get fucked somewhere else alright?”

He’s motioning towards Jin’s clothes, a ping in your chest the minute you realise he just slut shamed you, an instant feeling of discomfort coming through your skin. Lou is seconds from saying something before Taehyung is stepping behind the guy and coughing loudly.

The guy falters, looking over his shoulder and swallowing down. “You know what? I think my friend just called me.” No one gets to say anything before he’s walking fastly away, a worried expression on Taehyung’s face. “Yn? You alright?”

You couldn’t move, the minute you are hearing the concerned voices of Lou and Taehyung has you unintentionally crying. Taehyung doesn’t know what to do when he sees this, softly reaching out and grabbing a hold on your arm and pulling you into a hug.

Jungkook ; November 1st | 1:13 pm

Jungkook helps Jins put Yoongi on his bed before he’s walking across the room into the guest room and being hit with emptiness. He rushed downstairs and looked across the house only to see people going back to what they were doing.

It’s when he looks toward the kitchen that he sees you, but what he sees makes his thoughts run loose. He couldn’t deny that since the day he had proposed to “fake date” that maybe you still thought of it like that and even so, liked Taehyung.

He was pissed, pissed because now he was convincing himself that you played him, pissed at himself for slowly falling for you when he shouldn’t have. He’s walking over towards the kitchen area and clawing you out of Taehyung’s grasp. “Man what the fuck.” Taehyung frowns hard at the younger guy, but Jungkook isn’t looking at him.

“I think it’s time to end the deal.” Jungkook seethes through his teeth, his jaw clenched as you looked confused. Lou and Taehyung were confused behind him. “Jungkook why are you ups-” He doesn’t let you finish, the grip on your hand tight. “I was stupid to think you liked me, but you know what that’s what I get huh? I mean I was the one who suggested for you to fake date me to get over Taehyung for Lou. But even still it looks like Taehyung likes you over her.”

“You did WHAT??” And that’s when shit hits the fan. Jungkook’s eyes widen the minute he realizes what he’s said, Lou scrunching her fists around the cup she had in her hands, liquid spewing out.

“What a load of bullshit.” She doesn’t even look at Jungkook, her cold gaze directed towards you. You had seen this look before, always toward her mom or her brother when they severely pissed her off, but now it was directed toward you for the first time.

“I knew it was all fucking weird. But you two seriously took me for a fucking fool huh? I can’t believe this is what you do behind my back.” You were scrambling, trying your best to not break down. “Lou it’s not what you think-” She doesn’t let you finish either, grabbing a bottle of alcohol and throwing it on the floor, breaking it. “So this is the kind of friend you take me for!!” She looks you dead in the eyes, before turning around and realizing that Taehyung had heard Jungkook’s words. She couldn’t do this, turning around fully and running away, out the house or somewhere in the house, just anywhere away from there.

You push your way out of Jungkook’s grasp, making him realize that he fucked up the minute that he’s watching your back, your figure running away and out the house. You had just lost your best friend and the guy you were falling for all in one night.

↫ masterlist ↬

— "first loves have always been confusing, but when you're bestfriend confesses she likes someone, your willing to do anything, even fake date and even so, find your first love."

⇆a/n: if you want to be added to the taglist, send me an ask - (if you aren’t being tagged. turn notifications on)

TAGLIST: @pjmriri @yoongiofmine @shatzkrinslinzki @sereni-soo @avke @betysotelo18 @she-is-dreaming @jkslachimolala @rageyoudamnednerd @teti-menchon0604 @peachy-skz0325 @shreyuuu @pvt-only @lovelytaes-blog @awseokjin @girlwiththeglittereyeliner @tanumiki

[cinebration]

Prophetic Fucking Visions (Alfie Solomons x Reader) [One-shot]

Prompt: “Am I not good enough?” / “I’m not good enough.”

For @writeroutoftime​! I had so much fun writing this! I was nervous, because I love Alfie so much and felt I couldn’t write him, but here we are. I hope you like it!

Warnings: blood and guts, seagull death

Gif Source: cillianmurphyss

You first met Alfie on the shore, though you were in the sand and he was above you on the bluff. A gunshot exploded above your head.

Curses spewed out of you as you ducked, your heart pounding in your chest. A seagull went down in a puff of feathers, blood splattering onto your hair.

You swore loudly.

Alfie’s grizzled face peered over the bluff, eyes squinting down at you. “Fuck me, that’s a woman.”

Shading your eyes against the sun, you glared up at him. “What gave it away?”

“Not your fuckin’ sailor’s mouth,” he boomed at you.

If only I had a sailor’s fist, I’d knock you down, you thought.

“Sorry, love, didn’t mean for all that shit on ya. Come on up and get yourself cleaned up.”

You hesitated. You didn’t know him, and he still had the pistol in his hand. “I’ll manage,” you called up.

“Fuck me, you want me to throw down a rag instead?”

It was better than walking back into town with seagull oozing down your face. “If you please.”

“Awright,” Alfie croaked, disappearing.

After five minutes of waiting, the sun starting to beat down on you, you decided the rag wasn’t worth waiting for. You resumed your walk across the beach.

“Woman!”

You stopped in your tracks and turned toward the voice. Alfie lumbered across the sand toward you, a small towel clutched in one broad hand. You stared at him. The man seemed to be a bear, shoulders slightly hunched as he made his way to you.

The horrid scar on the left side of his face and the milky blue eye drew your attention last. The other eye searched your face as he at last stopped before you and extended the cloth.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, taking it from him and roughing it over your hair.

“Not seen you around these parts, Sailor Mouth.”

You arched your eyebrows. “Sailor Mouth?”

“Got nothin’ else to call you ’til you give me your name.”

“And what would I call you?”

“The Wandering Jew.”

Your eyebrows arched higher, but you kept quiet. Raking the towel over your hair and ears one last time, you asked, “Did I get it all?”

Lips pressing together, he surveyed your head. Taking the towel from your hand, he swiped it along your forehead and then down the back of your neck, wiping away the last of the gunk. He grunted his approval.

“Thank you,” you repeated.

“For getting seagull guts all over you? That’s bad luck, that is.”

A rueful chuckle slipped past your lips. “Call me Bad Luck Sailor Mouth.”

Alfie’s good eye glimmered.

~~

“I do the odd thing here and there. Nothing too respectable,” you said with a laugh.

Alfie walked alongside you on the beach. You had chanced upon him a week after the seagull incident. He had struck up a friendly, albeit strange conversation with you before you had been forced to return back to town.

This was the fourth such meeting. It seemed he had been waiting for you this time. You only walked the beach once a week, not always on the same day, so he must have waited each day to see if you’d walk by.

“I used to make bread,” he said. “It isn’t too respectable neither.”

“Well, I’m sure real bakers would abhor liquid bread.”

He looked at you sharply.

“Your reputation precedes you,” you informed him. “It seems you’re a god down in Camden Town.”

He grunted. “I was resurrected.”

“And I was swallowed into the whale’s belly.”

He laughed. “That where you got your sailor’s mouth, is it?”

“More like my bad luck.”

He looked at you with that unblinking stare of his. It disconcerted you less and less the more you saw it. He seemed to be fixing it on you more frequently, though you couldn’t understand why. You felt scrutinized, a not altogether unpleasant feeling from him.

“You eat?” he asked.

“What, whales? That’s not how I got out of that mess.”

His eyes gleamed wickedly in the setting sun. “Dinner.”

“Sure, if you have whale to spare.”

“No whale, I fuckin’ hate fish.”

“I suppose that’s alright. It’d just taste like bad luck.”

Alfie lumbered off in the direction of his home. You managed to keep pace with him, his stride long but unhurried. A light breeze blew off the sea, tickling your cheeks with sea spray even at a distance. Ominous clouds gathered on the horizon, the distant breakers foaming white as the wind whipped them into a frenzy.

Alfie refused to let you help in the kitchen. You followed him into it anyway, watched him work. He had put a chicken in his oven earlier. You gathered he had hoped to have you over for dinner—had probably prepared a special meal every day until you arrived.

“On occasion,” he informed you, “I did make real bread.” He set a basket full of it before you.

You plucked off a small roll and began to eat it as you waited for him to finish roasting some vegetables. “A chicken, huh?”

“The seagull I shot didn’t keep. It was a stringy bastard.”

You laughed, the sound filling the space over the sizzle of the stove.

You enjoyed every bite of dinner. Alfie watched you with interest as you ate your fill.

“What’s a woman like you doin’ here in Margate? Why aren’t you in London or someplace?”

“Too big and noisy.” You shrugged. “Nobody gets seagull in my hair or shoots at boats for fun. I guess they only do that to people.”

“Ah, well, I’ve done that. Shot people.”

You lifted your head to see him staring at you. “For business or…?”

He leaned back in his chair, appraising you. “A bit of both.”

You nodded and resumed eating. Your inquiries about him after your first meeting had told you that much about him.

Dessert was succulent fruit. Alfie had fallen into silence, not quite brooding but definitely pensive. He directed you into the living room, the open balcony doors overlooking the ocean. The storm approached, a mild rain beginning to fall.

It reminded you of the rainy days of your childhood. Your mother would stoke the hearth fire and spin yarns to while away the hours.

The weather and Alfie’s unusually subdued demeanor pulled you down into a somber mood.

“My mother told me a story once,” you murmured, “one I’ve never forgotten. It goes like this. A young man meets a beautiful woman—the woman of his dreams, he thinks—who always treats him well but never responds to his advances. He watches her from afar, watching as other men try to woo her. She treats them coldly. He thinks to himself, ‘She must love me. She treats me better than them.’ But try as he might, with flowers and sweets and pretty words, he can’t get her to acknowledge her feelings.

“So one day, he asks, desperate, ‘Am I not good enough?’ And she says, ‘I’m not good enough. I’d make a poor wife. I’ll never be the woman in your dreams.’ He protests, but she tells him, ‘I have a temper, and I speak my mind. I wake ill-humored and have days where it feels like the whole sky is gray and nothing can lift it. My smile is fake, and I hate this place.’

“He realizes with a broken heart that she is not the woman he believed her to be, and he leaves her.”

Silence descended on you both.

“I hate that story,” you hissed quietly. “It doesn’t tell you that he drinks too much and stays out late, that he would make an equally poor husband. He isn’t the man of her dreams either. Neither is enough alone, but together, they can be.”

Alfie shifted in his seat. The creak of his chair drew your attention. A deep furrow scored his brow. “Dreams, yeah?” The tension in his voice sent a shiver through you.

“Yeah,” you echoed.

“I’ve been having these dreams lately, see. They’ve got this woman in it, yeah, but I can’t see her face. She could be anyone. In these dreams, she asks me a question, right? And I know in that moment she will be my death.” He looked at you, unblinking. “You’ve got a question for me, yeah?”

You met his gaze. It was the question you hadn’t asked when he had introduced himself. “What did you do to condemn yourself to be the wandering Jew?”

He stilled. The waves crashed on the shore beyond the window, seagulls shrieking overhead.

“Yeah.” His voice rumbled in his chest. “That’s it.”

“Any woman could’ve asked that.”

“They would’ve asked, ‘Why do you call yourself that? What’s it mean?’ But you know what it means, so you asked the right question.”

“How will I be your death, then?”

“Fuck if I know.”

Thunder pealed, shaking the windows.

“Should I leave?”

“Did I say that? I came to Margate to fucking die, yeah? I’d rather someone love me to death than this fucking cancer.”

You swallowed thickly. “I’m not the woman of your dreams.”

“You’re right,” he growled. “I don’t have dreams. I have prophetic fucking visions. So are ya gonna fuckin’ kiss me or wot, Sailor Mouth?”

“You bet your fucking ass I am.”

[skylarcameron]

jealousy|rafe cameron

you weren’t a jealous person. you weren’t. seriously. you knew how to keep yourself cool when things get too crazy, and you knew how to keep calm in situations like what’s happening right now. unless someone gets too touchy, and unfortunately that is what was happening in front of you.

you and your boyfriend, rafe cameron, had went to a party tonight. he had begged for the two of you to get out and after some puppy dogs eyes, you finally gave in. and you were sorta enjoying it, until that little tramp walked up to your boyfriend, while you were talking to sarah.

the petite blonde gave him a tight hug and big smile, that made you want to rip her hair out. you watched them carefully, you watched as rafe laughed a little at something she said but you also saw him scratch his neck uncomfortably, which made you want to strut over there, right then but sarah held you back.

the girl twirled her hair flirtatious as she talked to your boyfriend, and a new feeling growing in your stomach, that feeling of jealousy that rafe would tell you he would get when another guy would stare at you strongly in public. you inhaled, trying to keep calm and you did pretty well, until that blonde but her hand on his arm, rubbing it softly. you shook your head and stomped over there.

once you reached them, rafe’s eyes widened and you tapped the girl’s shoulder, making her spin to face you. she raised her eyebrows.

“can i help you?”,she asked rudely. you chuckled.

“yeah, you can stop flirting with my boyfriend”,you spat and she laughed, looking back to rafe.

“this is your girlfriend?”,she asked him and rafe nodded rapidly. she looked back to you, smirking.

“well she’s certainly not what i was expected. rafe, baby you could do better”,she spoke and rafe opened his mouth to defended you but you cut him off.

“first off, he’s not your baby, and second off “she” has a name”,you growled and the girl laughed.

“and what is it? whore possibly”,she giggled and you scoffed.

“you’re one to talk. and if i were you i’d really watch your mouth”,you told her as people now started to crowd around you two.

“oh yeah? or what?”,she asked.

“or ill kick your ass”,you howled and she laughed.

“sure you will. why don’t you do us a favor and run along. rafe deserves better than you”,she faked smiled. you stepped closer.

“you don’t know what he deserves”,you said.

“i know that he deserves a lot better than you”,she spat.

“oh yeah? and who would that be? you, ya tramp”,you yelled and she gasped as she slapped you across the face. the people around you “oh’d” and “ah’d”. and you shook your head as you clenched your jaw. you glared at her before shooting her a shit-eating grin.

and then suddenly, you had her hair in your hands, you spun her around, and pulled her head back so you could talk in her ear.

“don’t ever put your hands on me or my boyfriend bitch”,you growled. you let her go and once she stood up right you punched her directly in her jaw. and she stumbled to the ground, holding her face in her hands. she screamed, standing up, and throwing a punch at you which you ducked under. and as she turned back around, you punched her right in her nose and she fell to the ground, crying in pain.

“don’t touch my boyfriend, tramp”,you spat as you wiped your nose. you sighed, looking around as tons of people watched you in silence and shock. and suddenly they all cheered happily. and you slowly chuckled as you nodded your head to their cheers. but stopped once you saw the blonde still on the ground. you sighed, walking over and sitting her up right.

“you need to ice it”,you told her amongst the screams and she scoffed, getting up and running away. you shook your head and spun around, and saw your boyfriend. his eyes were wide in shock but his lips were curved into a smile. you slowly walked over to him.

“i wanna go home”,you confessed and he nodded quickly, pulling you through the crowd, letting you get patted on the back and congratulated. you laughed, as you got into the car. you sighed, looking at rafe who was staring wide-eyed at you.

“what?”,you asked.

“i’m madly in love with you”,he answered and you threw your head back in laughter.

“oh really?”,you asked. and he nodded. you smiled, placing a kiss on his lips.

“good thing i’m madly in love with you too”,you laughed.

“dude your like a fighter, how’d you know how to do that?”,he questioned. you shrugged.

“i watch a lot of movies”,you confessed. and he laughed.

“that was so hot”,he told you as he started to drive away from the party.

“you think?”,you asked.

“oh yeah. i mean like the way you were jealous-“, he started.

“i was not jealous”,you cut him off.

“uh yeah sure because you wouldn’t have broken a girl’s nose for talking to me, if you weren’t jealous”,he chuckled.

“she was touchy though”,you told him and he laughed, putting a hand on your thigh.

“don’t worry baby. i like that you’re a jealous little thing. and i also like that you can fight, we can like double team if we ever need to”,rafe said and you laughed.

“shut up”,you laughed, looking at your knuckles.

“you should probably ice those”,rafe looked at you.

“right”,you said.

“my little slugger”,rafe shook his head. and you slapped his arm.

“hey i did it because i love you”,you told him.

“trust me baby, i love you more than you know. that girl didn’t compare to you at all. your my one and only”,he confessed.

“better be”,you replied with a smirk as rafe kissed your knuckles softly.

another rafe fic. thank you guys for everything, i love you guys so so so much. remember you’re beautiful. xoxo

[starshipsofstarlord]

Those who fell - Natasha Romanoff x reader x Gamora

Masterlist link

Summary; in life and death, the three of you are able to unite, and make the most of the time that the sacrifices of your lives have given you

Warnings; smut, threesome, oral sex (female receiving obviously), strap on sex, tribbing, fingering, mentions of death, angst

divider by @firefly-graphics

Gamora sunk her strap into your cunt, as Nat, your friend and fellow avenger clambered upon your face, sinking her pussy down onto your awaiting tongue as you hum satisfyingly at the taste of her silken essence. The green woman began to thrust as her hands secured their grip onto your waist, the red strap on affirming penetration consistently in and out of your walls.

You had all lost everything; life, lovers, hope, and thus all you had now was the sentence of rejoicing in your freedom from all the fabrications of the complications that were in regards to being alive. Natasha had faith that her and your family were to succeed in their mission, they were heroes, and they had saved you both from yourselves once upon a time, many long moons ago.

“Y/n.” Nat scrambled out your name as she rocked her hips against your face, spreading her juices down to the sides of your cheeks, you shook your head as you attached your mouth around her clit, enforcing a squeal to beckon out of her plump lips, as she bit on them, lost in the pleasure that you were granting them. Life had been cruel and deceiving, there was no light at the end of the tunnel, and thus, similar to now, you were responsible for crafting your own.

At the sound of your name, Gamora upped her pace, her emerald hands digging into the thickness of your thighs as she delved deeper within you, extracting a moan from you, that rumbled up and through Natasha’s body. “Shit, don’t stop ‘Mora.” Your words were muffled by the purchase of Natasha fucking herself down onto your face, but the message, though pursed together, was clear. You wanted more, and she, as a guardian of the galaxy, was here to help, and take partially for herself.

And the one thing that she was to be stealing was your orgasm, as she pulled away, as she had done to her own father, rejecting him and his ill wishes, removing the fake cock from inside of you, watching as your legs quivered for attention. Whines spurred out from your throat, peeking through Natasha’s body like shots of lightning cursing vigilantly through her. “Patience, I have something better; much better.”

She disengaged the harness from around her legs and waist, allowing the support to drop to the floor as she shuffled closer, hooking her palm around the curve and inside of your knee, bracing it to some height, as she steadied herself in the air, her feet prompting her against gravity, as she lowered her own cunt upon yours, descending the swell of her clit against the hood of yours, rubbing the skin grafted fabrics together, recalling tears in your eyes as you submitted to the pleasure.

Your own hands strayed from Nat’s hips, running down the crevice of her thighs as you looked up to her, the shadow of her full breasts blocking most of your view, trailing your fingertips down to prod at her swept aside labia, stroking the earnest and moist lips with the pads of your fingers, as you switched the position of your tongue upwards, so that it was flicking and delivering harsh sucks to her sensitive clit.

With your right hand, you swiped through her swollen folds, rasping in the feeling of Gamora’s pussy moving swiftly upon your own, as you entered a finger into the red head, listening intently as your name was preached from her rosy lips. You hummed at the taste of the assassin, softly shaking your head beneath her, as she tentatively ground down, revelling in the pleasure that you were basking upon her.

Gamora threw her black and red hair back, her lids closing as she felt your clit twitch at her notions, as you tried to grind back up against her. With hooded eyes, she watched as your tits softly swayed under the pressure that both women were laying upon your body; you were in absolute bliss, distracting yourself from the fall that had lead you all to be here. You had tried to save Nat, Clint was so focused on doing the same that he didn’t even have a chance of saving you as you descended, and he was left to survive of watching Natasha let go of his hand, wanting to save at least one life out of your iconic trio.

Even in the afterlife, the two of you remained together, fulfilling every fantasy that you had about the other. You had found Gamora lurking, lost in this imprisonment of a world, ashamed of having lead Thanos to Vormir, but proud that she had gotten her sister’s life spared. She was always the favourite, but here, she wasn’t judged upon her combat skills; rather instead there were other skills required to keep the pair of you happy and content, and she was more than eager to oblige.

The situation and those in the past were nothing more than distractions to the prospect of life that you were all missing out on. And like a white light, the same which she had seen whence her head had been unforced by a harsh impact to the behind, Natasha felt herself unravel. When she was done lulling in the glow of her orgasm, the redhead climbed off from your face, watching with flushed cheeks as you and Gamora went at it. Without her reducing your breaths, you were pursuing the thrill of the chase like animals, huffing and growling as you eagerly smashed your hips together, with intwined legs.

There was wetness spooling out from the main crevice of contact, spreading down your thighs as you and Gamora endlessly ground your folds and furthermore together, throwing your necks back as you leant in a stretch to get the best angle of stimulation. Nat found herself crawling closer as she pressed her lips to yours, delving her tongue within your mouth as your own swirled around the intrusion of hers, allowing her a second hand taste of her sweetness. Her hands ran down and pinched your nipples, evoking the image of fluttering eyelashes upon your face, as you grew mad with pleasure, spasming against Gamora as you joined her juices with her own.

A heavy sigh lifted from her chest as she untangled her legs from your own, turning over onto her front as she crawled towards you, smacking your legs apart as she took in the view of your pussy that was clenching around nothing, and the painted in her own cum, that was perfectly intermingled with the excess of your own. Out from the corner of your eye, as you passionately kissed Nat, you watched the enchantress, as she snuck her head in a closer vicinity to your personal parts, darting her tongue out to collect the blend of fulfilment, bringing her hand up to rub your clit as she ate you out.

“Holy shit.” You mumbled against Natasha’s mouth as your sensitive cunt took in more pleasure, despite practically having just came under the whim of the same woman that was tending to your will of overcoming a settlement of self mourning, reducing you to atoms of sweat and a heated body as her tongue rolled around your centre, Natasha nibbling on your tongue in the meanwhile. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” And you did, as you rolled your hips against Gamora’s face.

Natasha left you as she went in search of the strap, discovering it with a pleasant smile, as she put it on herself without aid, sending you a tender look as her eyes ran over your stimulated form. She grasped onto Gamora’s leant ass, as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, as she knelt behind the woman, leaving the two in the doggy position. Nat grabbed the harnessed dildo with a gentle hand, rubbing against the hood of Gamora’s clit, as you shuffled back, and bent your knees upwards, absentmindedly fondling with your button, despite the growing burn in the bead of muscle.

Beginning to thrust into the guardian, Nat became rough, a tense and affirmative expression taking over her face, whilst Gamora wore one of dazed eyes and an agape mouth. It was quite the show, more so as Nat clapped her hand down on the other woman’s backside, pulling a strangled sound out of her throat. Perhaps being dead wasn’t so bad if you were to be gifted with the freedom of performing such erotic acts without a crunch of time and saving the world, but you missed your friends, this again, whilst being a grave fantasy, was a way to forget about them all, even if it be only momentarily.

“Natasha!” At the sound of her name, you remembered the way Clint would say it as he was piloting at the front of the quintet with her, or how Thor would formally greet her. Your hand went slack as you mulled over the memories, it felt like you were being stabbed in the chest. As Gamora was rendered through an orgasm by the black widow herself, you felt yourself cry, wanting nothing more, despite it being a gruelling task, than to fight, hell, even go through another accords. Anything was better than being dead.

feedback is always appreciated 💙

[justthehiddleswrites]

Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 7 | If anyone is taking my wife out on a date, it’ll be me!

A/N:  Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed).  It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will.  Keep your hate to yourself.  

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt.  Tom has an idea to solve all their problems.  Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts.  Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else.  In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Tom finally pulls himself together to tell Molly he loves her.  But is it too late for these two? 

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of:  child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED!  THANK YOU FOR READING!

--

Tom paced around the house for a good two hours. Each plan he came up with to win Molly back, more hairbrained than the next. None of them would have worked anyway. Tom didn’t know where she was staying. And she had been smart enough to withdraw cash from an ATM to use for a hotel room. During Tom’s muttering and ranting, his eye caught the vase Molly put the flowers from yesterday in. The sight of them enraged him so much that he flung them across the room. It hit the wall, sending glass, water and flowers flying and leaving a mark on the wall.

“Fuck! Another fucking mess to clean up.” he growled at himself as he went to clean it up.

Tom sliced open a finger and the palm of his right hand, picking up the glass shards to bin them.

“Christ, Thomas! Can’t do anything right. Break the vase and make a mess, cut your hand to hell, destroy the one good thing…”

He collapsed into sobs against the wall, covering his eyes with his non-injured hand. The other hand hung at his side, blood dripping onto the floor. It took a good five minutes for Tom to get himself off the floor. He poorly dressed the wound on his palm, having only the use of one hand and not his good hand.

Rather than bothering to clean up the mess, he let it sit and headed to bed. Not that he would do much sleeping.

He woke the next morning to more speculation in the papers about his marriage and a splitting headache. He fixed himself an espresso. His stomach rumbled, and he realized he missed dinner yesterday. Tom opened the fridge to find storage containers of fruit with little notes on them.

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

Tom chuckled as tears welled up again. “Oh, Molly.” He opened up the container and popped a piece of melon into his mouth. His phone buzzed.

“Ben.” he answered dryly, popping another piece of melon in.

“That bad? I suspected as much. How did you fuck this up?” Ben chuckled.

“I yelled. I called her stupid. I got jealous. But mostly I yelled. I never should have yelled at her. She doesn’t like to be yelled at. I promised not to yell at her…”

“You’re babbling, Tom. How on earth does a confession of your undying love turn into you yelling and her, sleeping on the couch?”

“Never got that far, and she moved out.” Tom sniffled. “I, I don’t know where she is.”

“Well, damn it man, find her and fix this. I can’t handle another six months of you moping about.” Ben groaned.

“What makes you think she’ll take me back. I broke her trust. I did the one thing—”

“She will take you back because she loves you. Don’t believe everything you read in the papers. Besides, didn’t Loki kick Captain America’s ass?”

Tom chuckled. “Only once.” Tom sighed. “But how am I going to find her?”

“Have you tried the phone?”

Tom glared at his mobile. “You are hilarious, mate. Yes.”

“One of her friends then. Surely, someone must know where she is staying.”

Tom shook his head. “She doesn’t really have many…” Tom snapped his fingers. “I’ve got to let you go, Ben.”

“Where are you off to?”

“I got to sell my soul.”

“To the Devil?”

“Worse. My sister.”

-

Emma didn’t expect to see her brother appear on her doorstep that morning. She had expected him to call first.

“I don’t know where she is, Tom!” Emma snapped back.

“You’re lying, Emma. Your brow always twitches when you are lying. Where is she, Emma?”

“I’m not telling you, Tom. She told me what you said.” Emma narrowed her eyes at her brother.

“And I need to tell her I was a right bastard.”

“Which you are!”

Tom shook his head. “If I tell you everything, will you tell where Molly is? I don’t care if she tells me to fuck off. I just need her to know I love her. More than anything.”

Emma opened the door wider and crossed her arms. “I’m listening.”

Tom stepped inside. “So you know how after the break-up, the papers kept running stories about me?”

“Yeah…”

Tom ran his toe along the edge of the rug in Emma’s foyer. “So I may have come up with the idea of getting married to give the papers something else to write?”

Emma’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. “So you’re not married. Mum is going to—”

“Oh no, I’m legally married. I’ve got the certificate to prove it. I agreed to pay off her debts in exchange for carrying as my wife.” Tom’s voice grew smaller as he explained the whole arrangement.

“Is Molly a—”

“Don’t even say it, Emma or I swear. Don’t speak ill of Molly. She is a nice girl who has managed admirably despite a horrific childhood. And I…” He struggled to find the words.

“Fell in love.” Emma finished his sentence.

Tom’s eyes welled with tears, and he nodded. “I did. I didn’t mean to, but I did, Em. She is…” Tom choked. “… my world. I love her so much it burns me from the inside out and she doesn’t know. She needs to know. I can’t let her go without her knowing she is loved. By me.” A tear fell onto Tom’s cheek.

Emma stood there for a moment, silently staring at her brother, crying in her foyer. “You realize by telling me all this, I will have enough to blackmail you until the end of time to not tell Mother?”

“A price I will gladly pay to get the chance to talk to my wife one more time.” Tom gazed up at his sister. “Will you help me, Emma?”

She shifted her feet around. “She’s at the Park International Hotel, Room 223.”

Tom leaned over and kissed her cheek.

“Thank you, Em.”

“Go get the girl, Tom.” she smiled at him.

-

“Thanks for coming over.” Molly sniffled. “I know you’re busy.”

“Hey, hey.” Chris reached out and grabbed her hand. “It’s no trouble. You sounded so upset on the phone.”

Molly smiled over at Chris before her face crumbled as she cried again. For the looks of it, she had cried most of the night. Her eyes were puffy and rimmed with red.

“Sh, sh, sh.” Chris moved to envelope her in a hug, pulling her tight to his chest. “Tell me what happened. It’s about the picture, isn’t it?”

Molly nodded her head against him. “Yes.”

“I can’t imagine Tom getting mad about that, babe. We are just friends.”

“I know, right? But Tom got so mad and cold. And he yelled. He knows how… how.. I.. am with yelling.” She buried her head in his chest. “I thought he cared about me.”

“Of course he cares about you. He loves you, Molly.” Chris pulled back. “You’re his wife.”

“It’s a bit more to it than that, I’m afraid.” She wiped the tears away. “Our relationship is…” She was on the verge of telling Chris everything.

“Complicated?” Chris raised an eyebrow. “Tell me about it. And the fame only makes it worst. Everyone watching and judging. They have no idea what is going behind closed doors.”

“That’s an understatement.” Molly sniffled. “How do you deal?”

Chris smiled and laughed. “Not well. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m single.”

“A handsome guy like you?” Molly teased.

“I have my flaws. But my dog thinks I’m great.”

Molly laughed for the first time. “I bet he does.”

“But the important thing is that the two of you love and care for each other, and the rest of it is bullshit.” Chris sighed. “And you and Tom clearly care for each other. Why else would he act so possessive?” Chris smirked.

“You noticed that?”

“I could have been blind and noticed that. Tom has got it bad. And I can’t say I blame him. A beautiful, amazing girl like you. He’s a lucky guy. If you were single…”

Molly blushed. “Thanks.”

They sat in awkward silence until Chris smacked his legs.

“Well, this is awkward. I’m going to go get some food for us and bring it back, and we are going to figure out what to do next.”

Chris turned to leave. “Chris!” Molly called out.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for everything.”

“Sure, babe.”

-

Tom stepped out of the elevator and walked towards Molly’s room. The entire drive over, Tom went through his head what he would say to Molly. How he would beg her to come back. That he loved her. All that went out the window when he saw Chris leaving Molly’s room.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tom bellowed. “Haven’t you done enough?”

Chris spun around and his eyes narrowed. “I’m here at Molly’s request. Apparently, her husband upset her.” he sniped back.

“And you’re here to comfort her? That’s my job. I’m her husband.” Tom’s fist clenched as he saw Chris smirking at him.

“You’re doing a piss-poor job, buddy. She’s been crying all night.” Chris jabbed his thumb at the door.

“How would you know that?!” Tom marched forward until he was toe to toe with Evans.

Chris looked Tom up and down. “Listen,” he ignored Tom’s question. “if things don’t work out between the two of you, mind if I date her? She’s seems like a great girl, deserves a good—”

CRACK! Tom punched Chris square on the jaw. Chris tumbled to the ground, holding his face.

“If anyone is taking my wife out on a date, it’ll be me!” Tom yelled back.

“Tom!” Molly stood at the door. “What the fuck?!”

“Molly!” Tom and Chris called out together. They both rushed to her, but Tom got there first, kicking a foot out to keep Chris at bay.

“Darling, I…” Tom reached out for her. Molly took a step back.

“How did you even find me?”

“Emma told me.”

Molly huffed. “Traitor.”

“She knows.” Tom leaned in.

Molly gasped. “You told her?! But she might tell your mom. Tom, I…”

“You’re worth the risk.”

“I should say so.” Chris piped up.

Tom’s head twisted around to glare at Chris.

“You’re still here? This is none of your concern.” Tom hissed.

“I was invited.” Chris straightened his shirt. “Right, Molly?”

Molly held up her hand. “I think you should go, Chris.”

“But—” Chris protested.

“Tom and I need to talk. Alone.”

Tom smiled at Chris. “Nice to see you, mate.”

Chris wanted to push the issue but knew better. He sighed. “Fine, but call me if you need anything, Molly. I’m still in town for a few more days.”

Molly nodded. “Got it. Thanks, Chris.”

“You’re welcome.” Chris shoved his pockets and walked towards the elevator.

Tom returned his attention to Molly. They stepped into her room and shut the door. “It hasn’t even been 24 hours, Molly. And he’s already in your be—”

“Did you just come here to yell at me again?! And what are you talking about?”

“Chris said you have been crying all night. I assumed…” Tom stopped. “He didn’t—”

“No, but thanks for thinking so little of me. Did you come here to tell me that?”

“No, I…” Tom stumbled over his words. “I was wrong. I should have never yelled. Especially knowing what I did. You were right, I was jealous of Chris. I still am.”

Molly tapped her foot. “Anything else? Because you could have sent all of that in a text. You didn’t need to come here. It doesn’t change anything, Tom. I.. can’t… keep…” Her voice wavered, all her hurt and emotions mixed up inside of her.

Tom swallowed hard and exhaled sharply. “I love you, Molly. I am…” He chuckled. “hopelessly in love with you. That’s why I got so jealous. I was afraid that…” Tom fidgeted. “… you would leave me.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.” Molly fidgeted.

“I’m an idiot.” Tom stepped forward, cupping her cheek. “I thought admitting I loved you meant losing you. Our relationship was never meant to be this. It was business. And then Chris came along and the two of you got along. I lost my mind.

“The heart wants what it wants.” Molly whispered, her hands lighting on Tom’s shoulders. “Tom, I…”

Tom pleaded. “Please come back. I need you, Molly. I will spend the rest of my life showing you, proving to you I am worthy of your love. Just please come back.” Tom pressed his forehead to hers, breathing hard and crying.

“I… I… love you too.” Molly whispered, starting to sob. “And you are an absolute idiot.”

They both laughed. Tom leaned in and his lips tentatively, scared she would turn away. Molly deepened the kiss, wrapping her arms around Tom’s neck, pulling him against her. Tom walked them back until she hit the wall. Molly gasped. Tom breathed her in and slipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting every corner of her. He wanted to know every inch. She clung to him for dear life, tasting him as well. There was heat and passion and everything Molly wanted. She leaned back against the wall, panting.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you like this for so long.” Tom continued to kiss her, in between words, stealing her breath. “Marry me.”

Molly giggled against his lips, cupping his face in her hands. “I’m already married to you.”

Tom’s lips trailed down Molly’s neck. “Then sleep with me.” He sucked hard in the crook of her neck. “Let me make love to you, darling. I need you.” He pressed against her, desperate.

“Yes.” The only word Molly could muster in the moment.

Tom picked her up and walked her to the unmade bed and placed her down. As he tugged his shirt off, Molly scrambled with her shirt and pants, tossing them onto the floor, leaving herself in just a bra and panties.

Tom smiled and licked his lips as he yanked his belt off and pushed his pants and underwear to the floor. Molly gulped as she took in Tom naked.

“Bra and panties too.” he prodded as he crawled onto the bed. “I want to see my wife in all her beauty.”

Molly shivered at his words and her hands shook as she unhooked her bra and slipped her panties down her legs. She laid there naked.

“Glorious.” Tom purred as he settled between her legs. His mouth latched onto one of her nipples, sucking and licking. Molly arched her back and groaned.

“Fuck, yes!” She grabbed the back of Tom’s head and pulled him closer.

Tom released her nipple with a pop and moved over to the other one. His hand snaked between their bodies to find Molly’s core, teasing her clit with his thumb. She bucked against his touch.

“Tom, please. I need you.” Her hand stroked his cock, teasing the tip along her folds. “All of you.”

“Then all of me you shall have.” Tom pushed into her, groaning until he bottomed out. Molly arched into him, filled to the brim.

“Yes!” she breathed.

Tom twisted his hips as he thrusted into her with long strokes, hitting that spot inside of her. Molly bucked her hips, wanting every inch of him. Her nails dug into Tom’s back.

Tom wanted the moment to last forever. Just him and Molly and nothing else. But his release edged near, and he wanted to please Molly first.

“Are you close, darling?” Tom growled in her ear.

Molly nodded. “Yes!”

Tom drew tight circles against Molly’s clit as he sped up his thrusting. “Come for me, my love.”

Molly soon came, clenching hard around him, causing Tom to come too, spilling inside of her. He carefully rolled off to the side, and pulled Molly onto his chest, smoothing her hair back and kissing her forehead.

“That was incredible, darling. You are…”

“So are you.” she interrupted, wiggling into the crook of the body. “Tom?”

“Molly?”

“Will you do me a favor?” She drew circles in Tom’s chest hair with her nail.

“Anything.” He held his breath, waiting.

“Take me home.” Her face breaking out into a sparkling smile.

Tom pressed his lips to hers. “On one condition….” She raised an eyebrow. “You move into the master bedroom with me. I haven’t slept a wink in weeks because you aren’t there.”

Molly laughed as she nodded her head. “Deal.”

[just-some-random-blogger]

One Million In One Day | 10 (Final)

GOT7 SugarDaddy!Jackson Wang x Reader + Park Jinyoung x Reader | Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Characters: GOT7 Summary: His mother’s final wish is to see him be happy in a relationship, knowing that Jackson would be fine when she left him. But, damn, he didn’t have time for relationships, especially not since he was busy running his father’s billion dollar empire, thus the compromise: you. Word Count: <2k Warnings: Stalking, fighting, cursing, mentioning of illness, TYPOS, etc.

A/N: I literally said I was planning to finish this soon, but guess what HAHHAHAH THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN. I-- Anyway, to @tia-m94, @aquietkerfuffle SKSKSKS here it is. Also maybe actually listen to the song reader begged to play in this chappie lol

Dance, Dance by Fall Out Boy was going to be playing in the club. Why? Because I crawled over to the DJ and wept, begging him to play it. Why I was emotional about it: yes. I was just- yes. Y'know?

Yes.

It was why Nari, at that point, had disowned me. Also Mark, he disowned me too... although I don't actually remember if he was with us at this time.

I did remember where Jinyoung was though. I squint and looked out in the crowd for him.

I was wearing a sparkly violet dress and killer pumps, as in they were killing my feet. I was warned not to remove them though by the sour man watching me, over there with a sweater on and skinny jeans. Who wears sweaters in a dance club?

I mean it's fine, he was kinda cute. Like hecka cute. 10/10 cute you know. Would ask him out.

I finally spot him from where he sat in one of the tables by the bar. I wave at him. He sees me and waves back. I wipe the tears from my face and thank the DJ for promising to play the song for me and make my way to the cute man in a plain-ass lumpy sweater.

"What did the DJ say?" Jinyoung asks me, standing up from the stool and helping me sit.

"Well, first of all, I told him my boyfriend was really mean because he told me I couldn't take these uncomfortable shoes off."

Jinyoung sighs, "I told you to wear sneakers so we wouldn't have this conversation, but you insisted on 'looking hot.'"

I am offended by the air quotes he says.

"I so too am hot, you worthless piece of-" but my face is suddenly in his hands and my lips are being peppered by kisses. He lightly brushes his lips on mine and wipes he side of it, "Ye, ye, I didn't mean it like that, and you know it, pabo. You're absolutely stunning most of the time."

I blink, most-of-the-time doesn't sit right with me, but I'm not really sure why... "I feel like I should still fight with you."

Jinyoung chuckles then raises his brows and points, "Isn't that your song?"

I take a moment and listen. I then promptly freak out and nod. I instantly grab Jinyoung by the hand and drag him out. Once he's on his feet, he scolds, "up, up, up, up, up. What did we talk about earlier?"

I whine, "What is it this time?"

Jinyoung looks me in the eye, "after this song we...?"

I groan, "we go home! Ugh, what a party pooper."

"Just making sure we're on the same page, baby girl."

I make a face and poke Jinyoung's belly, "oooh, am I your baby girl?"

He chuckles and hums. He pulls his hand away from mine to place his arm around my shoulders, "More like shit-faced, childish adult."

I give him a look, "let's break up."

"Ah," he boops my nose, "when you're not under the influence, m'kay? For now, let's dance."

And so dance we did, if you think of flailing your arms and shaking your rump was dancing. But of course it is though.

Jinyoung, as exasperated as he was, actually enjoyed dancing with me, I think. I mean he seemed to be enjoying himself. He had his hands clenched and his arms folded, shaking as if he held two maracas. And I, when I wasn't head banging, I was lovingly looking at him.

"I'm glad that you're my boyfriend."

Jinyoung didn't seem to hear me because he just continues doing his dad-ish dancey-dance. I was about to say it again, but then his eyes catch something and he point at the direction, "Isn't that Jackson?"

"Jackson?" I scrunch my nose, "Jackson who?"

"Jackson Wang, babe. You're sugar daddy."

I take a moment to think about what he said. Jinyoung looks at me and raises a brow. He chuckles, "you're so shitfaced. Jackson's the one who bought us tickets to the Olympics? Got me a job in Seoul? Got you a job in Seoul?"

I wipe my nose, "Well, I know Michael Jackson."

Jinyoung sighs, "come on, let's say hi. Your song's almost over."

The next thing I know, Jinyoung's grabbing my hand and leading me off to the side.

Jackson, who had seen us, wasn't actually with anyone tonight. Bambam actually owned the club, and he had yet to show up. He found the dancing spectacle pretty amusing but there was a this thing in his chest, like something was biting his heart.

Oh fuck, they're coming over.

Jinyoung calls out. Jackson looks over and pulls on a smile, "Aye, Park Jinyoung." They do a bro shake.

I turn to the man in shade and wonder why he's wearing shades indoors, so I ask, "why are you wearing shades indoors?"

Jinyoung sighs. Jackson's lips part in thought, "they look cool?"

The sweater man shakes his head, "she's shitfaced. She cried over this song and doesn't remember who you are. You know know how she gets when she's drunk."

"I'm not drunk!"

Jackson clenches his fist, thinking, how do I still think she's cute when she doesn't remember me when she's drunk?

"Sure," Jinyoung says, turning to man sat alone in the booth, "you with anyone tonight, Seunie?"

I perk up, "Seunie's here?"

Jackson places his head in his hand and turns to Jinyoung, "I'm waiting for Bambam."

Jinyoung chuckles, "don't wait up."

Jackson laughs softly, "I'm giving him a few more minutes"

"That's what I said last time. Bam's excuse was so bad too."

"Stuck in traffic?"

"Stuck in traffic."

"Wait, where's Seunie?" I whine. Jinyoung looks at me and points, "there's your beloved Seunie."

Jackson freezes.

I turn to him and pout, "why are you wearing shades indoors?"

Jinyoung sighs. He takes my face in his hands and mouths slowly, "stay with Jackson. I need to pee."

"I don't need to pee though."

"Which is why you should stay with Jackson."

"But why?"

Jinyoung turns to Jackson and Jackson nods, "it's okay dude, I got it."

Jinyoung takes his leave.

Jackson moves closer, "so, Seunie?"

I turn to him and tilt my head, "Seunie?"

"He's your friend."

"He's my best friend. I love him."

Jackson clears his throat, "but you said you don't know who Jackson Wang is?"

"MmMmm, nope," I pop the p.

Jackson chuckles, "don't do that?"

"Do what?"

He takes a moment to respond. He mutters softly under his breath, "make me want to steal you away."

"Habudabibittiy-doo," I repeat his words.

Jackson sighs.

For a moment, I sit with shades guy in silence until he speaks up again, "He likes you a lot."

"Likes who?"

"You."

"Who likes me?"

"Jackson Wang."

I think for a moment, "Seunie?"

Jackson stills. He debates the consequences. He chuckles, knowing how bad these drunk episodes were. He clarifies the indifference in the question, "Yeah, I, Seunie, like you. So, so much."

"He said that?"

He nods, "he told me."

I blink and nod, "I like him too."

Jackson shakes his head. What a joke. He continues, "Jackson likes you in a way Jinyoung does, but sadder."

I pout my lips, "Sadder? I don't like it when Seunie is sad. He's sad because he misses his mom"

He pushes his shades up his forehead, "He's not sad about liking you like that. He's sad in a way he wants to be the one to bring you home when you're drunk and hold you when you sleep."

"He... felt like that?"

"He felt it when you went on dates, even though they were fake. He feels it until now."

I look at the man and see sadness in his eyes, "don't cry."

He gives a sad laugh, "I'm not sad, I'm happy for you. You glow when you're with him and he glows because of you. When we started hanging out with him, I thought he talked about you to grind my gears, but he just really loves you. I'm glad he does."

"Then why do you look like you're about to cry?"

"It still hurts."

"I'm back," Jinyoung suddenly said. He looks between us and says, "damn, you look like you're about to pass out, both of you."

Jackson clicks his tongue, "I'm tired of waiting from Bambam."

"Well, we're going home too. You need a ride?"

"Nah. I bought my car."

"Good. I really didn't feel like driving across the city for you."

Jackson rolls his eyes, chuckling, "same for you two."

"Not for her though, right? Anything for her," Jinyoung says, looking at Jackson with a smile, then to me, "come on, pabo." He turns around and gathers my arms. He bends down and pulls me up behind him.

"See you next week, Jackson," Jinyoung says. Jackson nods. They have a executive meeting tomorrow. Jinyoung was quickly rising above the ranks. As proud he felt, he felt a little jealous too. He really had not fault to him, huh?

He puts his shades back down and raises a glass, "I'll finish this one."

"Don't drink too much."

"Just the one."

He watches as Jinyoung walks away. He watches her nuzzle against him. He looks to his glass, "anything for her.

[theonewiththefanfics]

Heartbreak For A Gift (Part 1/?)

Synopsis: Sometimes relationships start off like love stories in books. And sometimes they fall apart in a minute.

(Kind of an AU! I guess??)

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angst bruh

Warnings: swearing, sadness, angst, but nothing else that I can remember. Minimal editing

Word count: 2547

A/N: Please note I don’t know what the situation is between Harry and Olivia, if it’s a stunt or they’re actually dating. Whatever the case do not harass them. This is fiction and only for the purposes of the story. If they’re actually together - GOOD FOR THEM!!! No one is entitled to other people’s private lives!

Can be read as a one-shot if ya want, but I might turn this into a very small series cause I already have ideas as to where to go further with this, so hit me up if that’s what you’d like :)

If you know you’re a part of my tag list and see you’ve been crossed out, it means I can’t tag you for whatever reason. If you still would like to be a part of my tags please message me with your previous username and updated so I can update my lists :)

When she’d first said yes to going out with Harry, she’d had zero ideas as to who he really was. Well, that was a lie, she obviously knew of him, it’s not like she completely lived under a rock, and she’d seen a couple of his interviews, but 'One Direction' or Harry Styles as a solo artist hadn’t been that big of parts of her life, so she didn’t really care much for it.        They’d met at a bookstore on a sunny day in London. That’d been a good day. Her boss had let her go home a bit earlier than usual, the weather was warm, but not it’s-so-warm-I’m-sweating-my-ass-off kind of warm, sunglasses covering her eyes and hair free as the warm summer winds blew through her locks she was walking beside the Thames on her way inside the heart of the city.        Because she had a little bit more free time, she decided to pop into Waterstones, which was generally not a good idea for Y/N to do if she had things in store for the day; this time she could spend the rest of the evening if she wanted to, browsing books and living her best life.        Surprisingly for London, that particular Waterstones, even though it was in a densely populated area, was pretty empty, so Y/N felt free to skim through the options without having to press through a crowd of people to find the next section.        As she scanned what the shelves of New-Adult fiction offered, a man also came to look at the books. He stayed a bit further away, but he was certainly someone who caught people’s attention with the bright green daisy-print covered T-shirt, chequered shorts and the three scrunchies on his wrist.        The thing was as much as he’d grabbed Y/N's attention, she was more interested in the Waterstones exclusive edition of a book she’d been dying to buy, so when she saw it just sitting on the shelf, a small gasp escaped her lips.        Two eyes were immediately on her, and Y/N could feel them slip back onto her form from time to time as she greedily paged through the book, but she couldn’t say her own Y/E/C eyes didn’t flit over to the man as well.        He had a small bun on the top of his head, curly hair pushed away from the face, cheekbones for days, which were shaved and smooth and perfectly groomed brows arching over what seemed to be green orbs which were looking at the spine of a crime book way too intensely for it to be genuine interest. All in all, his side profile would be that of one of the characters Y/N’d simp over in a book, let alone the nails painted all colours of the rainbow which made her happy because nothing was better to see someone sticking it to the patriarchy.        But their little meet-cute was interrupted as an employee apologised while he tried to squeeze past them with a giant cart filled with new release books, and almost like a lost puppy, she started to follow the stacks of books when a hand on her shoulder made her spin around only to be faced with the man. She instantly recognised his face, but, at the same time, couldn’t really pinpoint what it was about him that was so familiar.

       “Sorry,” he said in a rough voice. “But you left this behind.”        And in his hands was the Waterstones exclusive.        Y/N’s eyes widened as she gingerly took it from him. “Oh my god, thank you! I’ve got no idea how I let it out of my fingers.”        He chuckled, motioning with his chin to the employee disappearing by the corner. “I’d say you got distracted.”        “Yeah, a little.” She bit her lip and drummed her nails against the cover of the book. “Well, uh… thank you. For not grabbing it for yourself.”        But he just lifted his hand. “More of a Murakami kind of a man.”        “Yes, well, I,” she nodded towards the book in her own hand, “like to read about people living out my dreams.”        He raised his eyebrow. “It’s a murder mystery.”        “Your point?”        “Would you say I have issues then if I wanted to ask you out on a date?”        Y/N’s heart stuttered in her chest, but he looked so nervous, so genuinely open and almost scared, she couldn’t feel any ill intentions from him, so she tapped her chin a bit as if contemplating before saying, “No. I’d say you have good taste actually.’        The relieved laugh he let out made him seem even prettier than Y/N already thought he was.        He extended his palm towards her, swaying on the balls of his feet a bit. “ ‘M Harry. Would probably be proper to know my name before we go anywhere further.”        “Y/N.” She smiled and clasped his hand in hers. “And it would probably be proper to know I was kidding about the whole ‘watching others live out my dreams’. People living out my dreams are actually in the books having hot sex with Fae.”        His laughter was loud and sudden, making Y/N duck down like she was in her Uni library and the librarians would come and shush them. But now, almost two years later since they’d first met, there was no sign of those butterflies she’d felt in the middle of the thriller section of Waterstones. Now Y/N was sitting by a large table, body slowly numbing as was her mind to keep the pain from her heart spreading. Whatever Jeff was talking about now, she didn’t hear. There were eyes on her, had to be to gauge her reaction, but they wouldn’t get anything more than slightly parted lips and a blank stare turned towards the marbled top.        She knew Harry was nervous; from her peripheral vision, she saw his thumb scraping at the rest of his nail lacquer, chips of pastel yellow and green polish flaking off and floating to the carpeted floor.        Y/N didn’t like LA. She’d never wanted to go there. Maybe as a tourist for a couple of weeks sometime down the line, but because of Harry and his commitment to ‘Don’t Worry, Darling’ and because he’d basically pleaded with her for days on end, she’d agreed to move there with him for the time he was shooting the movie.        It’s not that the city wasn’t beautiful. The sun, the sea, the greenery surrounding her was absolutely breath-taking, but it was the people that she didn’t really mesh with. Sure, she knew dating Harry came with a lot of what LA’s society was like. The need to look absolutely physically perfect to match the unachievable barbie standard, the fake niceness people usually exhibited just to get something for themselves or possibly raise them higher on the popularity scale, but Harry had always wiped away those doubts. But now all of that seemed like one big lie. He’d told her he didn’t care for any of it, not when it concerned Y/N nor when it concerned himself. But the contract in front of them said something different.        A hand touched her back. “Y/N?” Harry’s voice was tentative, wavering at the end of her name.        For the first time since the proposal had been thrown out, she lifted her eyes to look around at the people in the room.        Harry, Jeff, both their attorneys and Olivia Wilde and her attorney. The other woman, once their gazes met, immediately looked away. Y/N wanted to scoff at that.        “What…” Harry gulped, brushing a hand across her back. She’d never flinched away from him, but this time she did. Harry visibly shrunk in his seat and pulled back. “What do you think?”        What did she think? Well, she was thinking a lot of things, and the urge to say all of them was immense, but instead Y/N bit down on her tongue, reaching for the legal papers in front of her and skimmed through them.        She’d read each and every word as they’d been read out loud by the attorney, and every letter had been burned into her brain now. There was no way to get them out from her mind, and they’d haunt her forever.        “The fact that you’re asking me what I think of it already means you’re considering this.” Surprisingly enough, her voice was steady even though she was on the verge of collapsing after everything. “So, I’ll make this really easy for you – do it. Because, from now on, you’re a single man and you can do whatever the fuck you want.”        Harry’s face paled immediately at her words, hand moving to grasp Y/N’s, but they were in a tight ball in her lap, not moving an inch at his touch.        “Y/N, please.” Olivia was the one reaching out now, a pained and terrified look on her face, but the girl just stood up from her chair and went to the coat rack taking her coat and the bag that was discarded by it.        “No, you asked what I thought.” Tears had started to form in her eyes while she shrugged on her jacket. “This is what I think. If you even for a second assumed I’d be alright with this shitty stunt, Harry, then through the last two years we've spent together, you’ve learned nothing about me, and to me, it means it’s not worth it.”        Harry was now standing, desperate to touch her face, but Y/N once again pulled away.         “You two,” Y/N said pointing between Olivia and Harry, their faces twins of fear and regret. “Have never needed publicity. Not like this, so don’t try and bullshit me that this will make great promo for the movie. There are so many other ways you could drum up interest, but this…” She let out an unamused chuckle. “How could you think I’d be okay with you pretending to be in a relationship with someone else?”        “No, please… just hear us out. You don’t know what it’s like.” Harry tried to plead, hands in his hair, but it was the wrong thing to say, as she took a step back, eyes wide in disbelief.          But Y/N was calm, and with how rigid Harry became he knew he’d fucked up more than before.        “I don’t understand?" she breathed. “The number of things and events I’ve said ‘no’ to… the…” Her voice was as still as the sea before a storm as she took in a deep breath and exhaled. “Harry wants Y/N there for the opening of his tour, so Y/N drops everything and flies out even though she misses a presentation that could have her up for a promotion. Harry doesn’t want to be seen walking inside a club with someone, so Y/N goes to the back entrance to save his face. Harry is tired and just wants to sleep, so Y/N passes on her friends’ birthdays because he wants cuddles. What Harry wants, Y/N does. And I did. I did all that happily while keeping our relationship private while snaking in and out through back doors like I was some dirty secret of yours just so you could keep the illusion you’re single…” Y/N shook her head. “I think I understand very well… But now… it’s my turn, my time to ask of you something.”        “Anything,” he pleaded, probably thinking that Y/N was going to ask him not to go with Jeff’s stunt, and he’d gladly tell them all to fuck off if it meant her staying. “I’ll do anything.”        “Let me go.”        If Harry’s heart hadn’t been in his chest you would’ve been able to hear it break as it smashed against the floor.        “Let me go,” she repeated. “And don’t come after me. Because I won’t take any part in this.”        “But –,” he was choking on his words. “But I don’t want to. I love you; I can’t just let you walk away like that. I won’t do it, none of this is worth it.”        “And I didn’t want to do a lot of things, especially sit in a meeting on Valentine’s day where my boyfriend was talking about faking a relationship to promote a fucking movie, but here we are.”        This time when he reached out to cup her cheek, Y/N let him. “Please. I swear I won’t do it, just please let’s talk about this. Don’t give up on me.”        But she was unwavering. “For the rest of our relationship, however long that might’ve been, I would’ve wondered if you hated me if you despised me for not agreeing to go with it if the movie didn’t do as well as your management predicts it will with this. And I won’t have that. I won’t be in a relationship where every second will be spent in doubt that I’m stifling your career and you could potentially resent me.”        “I could never hate you.”        “Yeah.” She let out a sob. “You actually claim to love me but would be willing to put me through that kind of fuckery, so something has to be a lie.”        Without looking at anyone else in the office, Y/N stepped away from the man who once made her feel like she could conquer the top of the world and opened the door, but didn’t even manage to take a step outside when the voice of the person she never wanted to hear from called after her, and although Y/N had been calm and collected, she snapped at him. “Oh, don’t worry, Jeff,” she snarled. “It’s not like I can talk about anything that happened here. You made sure of it. Smart move, by the way, I’d say you should continue it. NDAs right before any meeting… I guess that’s how you keep your clients' careers spotless, so your stunt won’t be exposed.”        The way she whipped around to move towards the door would’ve given her whiplash, if not for Harry standing in front of her, arms weaving around to keep her in place.        “I’m sorry." He was verging on hysterics. "Please just… please Y/N don’t…”        It seemed like he no longer even understood what he was pleading for. For Y/N to not break up? To not leave the room? LA? All he knew was that if he let her walk out of the door, he’d never see her again, and she’d make sure of it.        “No, Harry, I think I actually will, because the thought of being in the same city as you, is going to make me throw up right now,” Y/N said eyes not daring to meet his, because if she did, she'd break and her resolve would dissipate. “Besides, you have loads of things to talk about. By the time you get back, I’ll have my stuff out of the hotel. And Jeff?”        His manager looked sheepish as she glanced at Y/N.        “The least you owe me is a ticket back home. The first flight you can find.”        He didn’t answer, just nodded. She didn't deign to thank him.        “Happy fucking Valentines to you two.” She looked at Olivia and Harry, who was breaking apart at the seams, but no longer could she find it in herself to care. He didn’t care enough about her anyway. “Hope you have a very happy relationship.”

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​ @raylovessarcasm

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

A/N: I’m (kinda?) back? I guess. I dunno. I’m in this weird place where I’m writing my books and then I get inspo for fics and I start writing them, but can’t seem to finish them so I dunno :D

P.S. what did ya think?

P.S.S. please don’t repost my works on other platforms (Wattpad Ao3 etc without specific written permission)

P.S.S.S. my tags are always open :)

[ldouble]

Slumming It | Kevin Atwater X Reader (Chicago PD)

summary: When pulled into an undercover op for the Intelligence Unit, you couldn’t be more excited. The only person who catches your hesitation is your boyfriend. A lot is unsaid in the bullpen, your relationship being one of them.

gif is not mine :)

“You keep looking at me like that and they’re gonna know you’re slumming it with a uniform.”

Your words were punctuated by the complete zip of the knee high leather boots. But it wasn’t till the hell smacks the concrete of the locker room does Kevin look up at you, unimpressed with your statement.

You tilted your head at him, hoping it aided your humor. All it did was send the little eye contact held fleeting.

“I’m not slumming it with a uniform.” Kevin shook his head toward the ground, until he realized what he just said. “I’m not slumming it with you, either.”

Your hands found the other boot, a sigh escaping your lips at how much the tight fitting accessory is going to fit. “You’re tripping up, Atwater,” It glided up with little effort, giving you the chance to cross your legs and look across the room. “I can see Ruzek getting on your ass already.”

“Can you stop with-”

“Or is Halstead sending a sly smirk at you?”

Your light heartedness has no place in the backlit changing room and even little place in a situation like this. Joking about your boyfriend’s friends finding out about his relationship, with you standing there dressed like a hooker, all while working an undercover op...you should’ve stuck with commenting about how the color of the dress did absolutely nothing for your eyes.

Still, Kevin would’ve found a way to call you out. He was quiet but that just meant he spent more time listening. He was done with your ill timed jokes.

“Sorry.” You bit your lip, knowing you pinched a nerve. You didn’t know what to worry about more - the way you just embarrassed yourself in front of a member of the Intelligence Unit or how you insulted your boyfriend.

You hated that the latter took priority.

You found Kevin’s eyes, too dark to read. But the look he was giving you - an analytical gaze mixed with what looked like frustration with the furrow in his brow - had you resorting back to your go-to.

“We uniforms aren’t used to working anyone other than a partner.”

You could hear the worry in your voice growing as each word entered the space. If the tone didn’t solidify his assumption, the choked laugh you gave did it. Nothing said “Can I do this?” like a meek laugh.

Girlfriends worried.

Cops did no such thing.

Straightening your posture you released your hair held in a tight ponytail. Shaking it out, you offered a smile. “Having your team at my disposal just got to my head for a second.”

Kevin pursed his lips, his arms crossed defensively over his chest. He looked great, done up in his own undercover wardrobe. Of course, his wasn’t as extreme as yours.

You were pretending to be a hooker. Short dress, fishnet stockings and heels that were nearly half your height. And that wasn’t including the heel. You hadn’t looked in the mirror after Trudy bombarded you. The amount of lipstick you could just feel on you made you want to wipe it off.

Kevin on the other hand was just supposed to be him. Tall and handsome, a drink of water to fit in right among the elites of this Hookah Bar you were raiding. Minus the badge, you could’ve sworn this look of a blazer and dark jeans had made an appearance at your front door. As well as your bedroom floor at one point or another.

He walked forward, hands finding your shoulders gently, his eyes pouring into yours. He took your breathe away. Or maybe that was the anxiety creeping up on you.

“We’re not at your disposal. We’re on your side.” You couldn’t help but lean into his palm as it crept up your shoulder. “We have your back.”

“Better you than this dress.”

Again, he didn’t find it funny. You sighed, nodding in all seriousness. “You have my back.”

Giving up on the idea of convincing him with a look of complete and utter confidence (you were saving that for the mission) you strode past him, grabbing the furry white jacket off the end of the bench.

On your way, you gave him some of the rope to tug at.

“That easy to tell I’m nervous?” You asked, slipped the fur over your shoulders.

He followed your steps, the pink handbag looking teeny in his grasp. “You uniforms got no damn poker face.”

You chuckle at that, feeling better with him in a joking mood. It was forced, you could tell by the way his tongue was sticking out between his lips, but you didn’t call it out. Humor came to everybody in their own ways. Yours was easier to cling to.

“Yeah, well without a uniform I’m sure it’ll get better.” You accepted the bag, twirling it in your fingers.

“Better?” Kevin asked with offense. “Gonna be the best. Why else would we bring you up?” He whispered in your ear as you made your way to the garage.

You pretended to think for a second before turning around, tiptoeing backwards and tracing his collar.

“For you to oggle me.”

The sound of the door opening snapped you back to reality. This was work. You might’ve been pretending to be a hooker but you weren’t on the job yet. Definitely not with a colleague who you would never do such a thing with.

Kevin caught the door, holding it open for you. As you walked past you gave your best respectable-just-another-day-in-the-office smile. But upon his next words, it was hard to keep it up.

“Like I’d show them I’m slumming it with you.”

----

Slumming it, you were definitely not.

You had quested the expensive dress placed in your locker. Why did a hooker did a $500 piece of clothing that barely covered her ass? Because as a high class hooker, expensive taste breeds....expensive tasters.

Men. With money.

But there was only one man you wanted.

He had money, sure.

But he also had guns.

A whole warehouse and business of illegal firearms. Chicago, ever the “Heart of America” was this guy’s selling point. Everything shipped here and then shipped out.

But a man he was. A man with needs. Expensive needs on short time. Besides, he had cash to burn. Made sense he booked it to this club, paid for a girl, had his way with her, and then was onto a business deal with a couple AK-47s by dawn.

Lucky you, getting a front row seat to it all.

You really hoped all you got was a seat. You really didn’t want to have to go to bed with this guy.

Jay would hopefully make sure of that. Imploring a deal on this guy’s “night out”. Who could resist making some money while spending it on something as pretty as me?

You gulped, remembering your first date with Kevin. He paid for the meal, quoting something similar. He couldn’t believe I had said yes to going out. He insisted on paying.

Tough as nails he was in his bullet proof vest. Beneath it, a teddy bear with manners of every mother’s dream.

“Aye, mami, how you doing?”

You turned to the fourth? fifth? guy who approached you, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. He was security, like every other guy who had hit on you yet, and not your target.

They really thought protecting their bosses wasn’t their job. Trying to catch the runner ups was their priortiy.

“Looking for something a bit better than that.” You heard Ruzek say over the comms.

“She’s got standards,” You looked over your shoulder toward Kevin, posted at a table near by. He sent a quick wink before finishing his statement. “As every girl should.”

“High ones, too.” You whispered.

You knew he was rolling his eyes, more so at you chiming in than your hint at your secret boyfriend’s height, but missed it since your view became full by another presence.

“Hi to you, too.”

Bingo.

You smiled at the man you had waiting for all night. One glance at his opening jacket, shimmering from the gun strapped in on both sides, and you knew this was the one. You’d been studying his face for weeks, of course. But nothing said arms dealer like...arms.

Arms that you felt wrapping around you.

Arms that you had to embrace.

It wasn’t the guy that had you nervous. Or the situation. Hell, you felt fine pretending to be a hooker. You had your team behind you.

You also had your boyfriend watching. That’s what made you resistance to accepting the embrace, taking in the fluttery whispers, and nodding at the invitation to his booth.

It was one thing to go undercover and flirt. A whole other when doing it in front of the one person you were undercover with and wanted to flirt with.

You were a cop first, you reminded yourself as you sat down on the plush velvet sofa. You were a cop, you repeated at lips found your neck.

Where the hell was Jay? Swooping in to make this deal? Get you out of this?

“Hey man, hate to intrude here.”

You froze for the first time at the sound of that voice.

A voice you loved to hear. But not here. Not with some other guy all up on you.

The dealer let his grip loosen on you and as he turned toward the newest addition to the booth you got your first clear look at it.

Your secret boyfriend.

Currently playing an undercover role he was not assigned to. All while you were undercover as a hooker attempting to get in good with a well known criminal.

The rest of the team was having just as much of a frenzy on your ear piece. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Jay panicking, not so much as ten feet away.

Kevin must’ve beat him to it.

Something told you it wasn’t the want to be the bad guy. Rather, break up the bad guy and you.

He had your back. Too much this time.

The target felt the same way, attempting to shake him off and coming back to you for more.

Your eyes met Kevin’s - more hallow than earlier - over the shoulder of the suspect. It sent you freezing again. What were you to do? Blow cover to save a relationship just as hidden? Or keep this going and lose something you never would’ve really had?

“I like seeing you work.” You giggled, gently pushing him off of you. Your eyes glimmered with fake admiration (really anxiety bubbling up) but it did the trick. You didn’t even have to use your line about how you would work for him later.

Taking the bait, he spun and began chatting with Kevin.

Unfortunately, he liked his work and play mixing. A hand found your leg, circling your knee. Kevin’s gaze never left the dealer’s but you could tell it was killing him. The toothpick, which had been loosely hanging out his mouth earlier, was now being gritted together so loud you could hear it over the music.

What was more obvious than his clear discomfort? The hand sneaking its way up your leg. No amount of disco lights or smoke from nearby bongs could hide the manly grasp on your thigh.

Even when he lifted your skirt up you couldn’t flinch. He was so close to admitting it all. He’d skimmed the numbers and the details but if Kevin pressed a little bit harder...

“Tell me more.”

Kevin’s eyes had swiftly found the connection on your leg. It wasn’t obvious enough for concern but his tone was. It was distant. Unfocused. Everything a dealer didn’t want in a deal, no matter the environment.

“You don’t seem interested in enough.”

“I am.” You giggled.

Damn. You were too quick to jump. He gave you a disapproving look and you could see it all falling. Everything you had worked for. Gone because you were trying to protect this case more than your real relationship.

“Not as much as me, girl.” Kevin spat.

He caught both of your attention’s, scooting closer. “I want armory. I know you have it. I can swear on the things you’re gonna do to this girl tonight, you can get it to be by tomorrow.”

OK, you weren’t the only one putting work before romance.

The thought scared you for a second but you had more to worry about. Most importantly, the feverish squeeze of your thigh that bloomed from the exciting prospect of a business deal.

The guy said it himself, shaking hands with Kevin and giving all the details we needed for a case.

You were stunned how good this was going. It was all falling into place.

Kevin seemed just as shocked too, sitting there silently...which was very unlike the bold player he was pretending to be.

Of course, no story has a perfectly happy ending.

The fault in the plan, the lack of calling out the safe word to trigger the team flying in.

The word slumming (your choice) barely crossed your mind before the guy’s lips were on yours and he was hurting you with such force.

You felt trapped for what felt like eternity (with your boyfriend looking on at least) but what was really seconds before he was ripped off of you.

“Get your hands off of her!” Kevin threw the guy on the ground, the gun in his belt loaded and aimed at his head.

He looked back at you once his hands were up, breathing heavy. OK, it had messed with his head as much as yours.

A little too much, though.

Because the next thing you knew, Kevin was kicked to the ground and the dealer was grabbing his own gun.

Thankfully, you were wearing a uniform more fit for the job.

In seconds you clashed with the arms dealer, hitting down hard on his hand to realize the gun in his grasp while simultaneously grabbing the other pistol from his pocket. Just as you lifted it up to aim it, Kevin was forcing him onto the booth, hands behind his back.

“Chicago PD!” Had just left your lips as the rest of the team came by. You breathed out, no longer having to play it cool.

Kevin was also given a break when Jay came in to take him away. In two steps he was in front of you, releasing the gun from your hand and pulling you close.

“I’m never letting you out of that uniform ever again.” He muffled into your head before tipping your chin up.

You smiled, cutting the distance between your lips till they grazed his when you spoke. “You can try all you want but I know you love seeing me out of it.”

Kevin pulled your close, squashing whatever space lay between you two.

“Woah, what’s going on here?” Ruzek called out with a holler, bringing you both to reality.

Out of the corner of your eye. you saw Kevin stumble a hand flying over his head as he thought on his feet.

You took a step forward, a hand on Kevin’s chest. “Kevin is slumming it with me, a uniform.”

Laughs erupted from the team, Voight shaking his head.

Kevin saddled up beside you, pulling you close once again.

“How many times I gotta say I’m not slumming it with you?”

“A million. “You shrugged. “I did have to lower my very high standards for-”

You words went unfinished as his lips found yours again.

You didn’t mind, thought. There’d be another undercover case sooner or later. You could tell him then how it was you who lucked out.

The End

[siriushxney]

⊱┊ searing light | chapter one

— pairing ; darkling!dream x sun summoner!reader

— au ; shadow and bone

— wordcount ; 1.7k

— warnings ; cursing, talks of war, no dream yet but he will appear somewhere in the next few parts!

series masterlist | next

the fold was scarier then you could've ever imagined — it stretched for miles upon miles, casting a shadow down upon where it stood. down onto the land of ravka. for centuries the blackness of it stood tall — no way to get through, under, or over safely. but despite the risks and dangers, with war raging on both sides of the country — you had no choice to go through for resources.

climbing out of the back of the truck, you could feel the rocks digging into the soles of your feet as you walked alongside the rest of your squadron — the cheap leather boots that were supplied to you and the rest of the first army, doing nothing to shield your feet from the rough and jagged ground. but despite the aching state that the boots left your feet in at the end of the day, you reminded yourself daily that it could've been worse. you could have been on the next skiff to enter the fold — the chance of coming back being slim to none.

anything was better than going into the fold.

“Y/L/N, why don’t you keep the move on?” another cartographer bumped their shoulder into your own, knocking you out of your tense state, and urging you to continue moving down towards your new camp.

everyone in ravka knew what the fold looked like — it was hard not to when it stood at unreachable heights and stretched the length of the country. but despite this, you had never been this close. no one ever spoke of the coldness it radiated, bringing a chill and goosebumps to anyone that dared to near it. and the thing that no one could have prepared you for at all was the sounds.

the sounds of the creatures that lived inside of the black barrier, screeching at deafening volumes and with such ferocity that it could send even the bravest of man or woman running for the hills.

with a deep breath and encouragement for yourself running through your head like a mantra, you pushed forward, closer and closer to the fold.

“Y/N!” you stopped in your tracks — the other cartographers passing you with quick feet and watchful eyes. turning, you caught a glimpse of a boy that you knew all too well — wilbur. while he was also in the first army, he was named a tracker due to his brilliant mind and tracking skills — skills that proved to be beneficial numerous times, making him one of, if not the best tracker in all of ravka. “you know, for a little mapmaker like yourself, you sure do have quick feet,” wilbur threw his arms around your shoulders, pulling you to continue walking beside him.

“you know, for an amazing tracker like yourself, you do stick out like a sore thumb — what if you're on enemy territory? they're gonna spot you from miles away, you tree.”

“I’ll have you know that despite my large stature, I’m quite good at blending into my surroundings — that and I don’t wear bright colours like them,” wilbur halted, standing awkwardly as he watched the group clothed in bright purple, blue, and red observed and trained with eagle like eyes — their hands drawn to grasp in front of their body as they waited their turn to strike the dummy.

them — the grisha.

grisha were people, much like you and wilbur, who were gifted with abilities like no other — abilities that could either take, or save a man's life. there were three orders of the grisha — the corporalki, the order of the living and the dead, who had people known as heartrenders, healers, and tailors; the materialki, the order of fabrikator’s who had people known as durasts and alkemi; and then there was etherealki, the order of the summoners, who had people known as squallers, inferni, and tidemakers.

but there was one being that you had heard about — someone they named the darkling. a grisha who did not possess an ability like any other — instead, he had the ability to summon and control darkness itself. a walking horror story with the ability to wipe out dozens if he wished.

he came from a line of them — a line consisting of only his families blood.

“I can feel their ego wafting onto us from here,” wilbur whispered slightly, not wanting any of them to hear due to their nature to lash out at people they considered ‘lower’ than themselves.

“no kidding,” you looked around the area in wonder, before looking down to your hands — a map that the head cartographer had handed each and every one of you before you arrived at the camp, displayed your tent being directly where the grisha now stood. “wait… this is where my tent is supposed to be, is it not?” you spun slightly as if it would magically appear.

wilbur stopped your spinning, and guided you towards a different area of the base. “they moved our tents this way, in order for the grisha to have more room — as if the entire upper region of the base wasn’t enough for them,” he couldn't help but grumble out now that he was farther away from the gifted individuals, throwing one more glare before looking ahead once more.

you casted one more look over your shoulder as you followed beside him — one grisha catching your eye for a moment before she turned away. the purple of her uniform — something that they called a kefta, catching your eye instantly alongside the grey embroidering on it. she was a durast — someone who could manipulate things such as steel and glass.

as much as grisha were dangerous and cold — they had a knack for looking their best at every waking moment, with a style that could kill. quite literally.

—

many of the first army stood shoulder to shoulder as they were awaiting orders — the general standing overhead with a paper in hand that no doubt held the list of names of the unfortunate people that would be ushered onto the skiff that would cross the fold.

wringing your hands nervously, you waited for your name or wilburs to be called, hoping and praying to any saint that would bother to listen. wilbur dug his elbow into your shoulder lightly, drawing your attention to him. “we’re among the youngest batch of the first army — we’re in the clear,” he spoke his words with such certainty. but as much as you wanted to believe him, you couldn't.

“I don’t know… I have a weird feeling, wil,” you gave him a serious look, only to be brushed off with a roll of his eyes. “I’m serious — somethings not right.”

wilbur brought a hand to your forehead, feeling for any sign of heat that could indicate sickness, before lowering it slowly and leaning it. “maybe you should rest — I think all those waffles you’ve eaten are making you fall ill,” while his joke was lighthearted, you couldn't help but sigh.

sigh over the fact that he didn’t believe you in the slightest, and sighing at the fact that you haven’t had a full meal, let alone waffles, in over five years — merely table scraps left over from the grisha’s wonderful and elegant meals they were served daily.

“attention soldiers! tomorrow is the first journey through the fold of this season, and we are taking volunteers!” the room laughed at that, the general included — no one sought out to enter the fold — you were selected and that was final. “knowing that none of you will volunteer however, I have taken it upon myself to select a group of you that will accompany the second army across the fold.”

the first army was full of people like you and wilbur — mapmakers, trackers, and ordinary soldiers that could barely hold their own in a fight. mere children when they entered the army, chosen based on how healthy they were. if you could walk, talk, and breathe normally — you were selected.

the second army however, is what the battles were one with — with grisha only ranks, they dominated against the fjerdans and the shu, two nations that had it out for ravka.

no one could bring themselves to laugh this time around — all too weary and nervous to crack a joke.

“entering the fold tomorrow will be… malyen oretsev, atlas cooper, wilbur soot...” you turned to wilbur in horror. “please come to the docks at 1600 for deployment. that will be all soldiers,” the general stepped down from the stage, leaving a room full of shocked, scared, and relieved soldiers.

he tried to put on a strong face for you, but you could see through it as if it were glass. the man that he was today had retreated into the scared and small boy who could never fight for himself. “wil…” you could only whisper tearfully, knowing full well that this moment could be the last time you’d ever see him.

wilbur slapped on the best smile he could in the situation, and pulled your into a hug. “I’m going to be okay, you hear me? if not you can kick my ass,” he laughed lightly in your ear, not able to hide the way his voice shook.

“I can’t kick your ass if you're hurt,” your mind searched for some way that you could fix this — perhaps it was a mistake? or maybe he could get out of it through faking an injury or a sickness. “what if I shot you in the foot?”

“you have a terrible aim.”

“if it means you stay, wouldn’t you take the chance?”

“I have to go.”

“wil-”

“Y/N,” he gave you a look — a look that you had given him minutes before. “I have to go — I have orders to, you know that.”

an order was an order. there was no way out. no amount of arguing, begging, or offering could buy your way out of doing something no matter what your case was, or what the order was. wilbur swore to follow orders at the beginning of his first army career, much like you had.

“I promise you I’ll come back to you.”

“you better,” your head lowered to his chest once more, basking in the warmth one more time before you had to let him go.

if there was really anything as saints, you prayed for them to watch over him.

he had to come back.

because you didn’t know what you would do if he didn’t.

— word bank

grisha [gree - shah] — unique individuals who have abilities

ravka — a country in the books of shadow and bone

corporalki [core - pour - ral - kee] — an order in the grisha

materialki [mat - eire - al - kee] — an order in the grisha

etherialki [ether - ree - al - kee] — an order in the grisha

fjerdan [fee - yair - den] — the ethnicity of fjerda residents

shu [shoo] — the ethnicity of shu-han residents

[jadelynlace]

Hvitserk’s First Tattoo / Ink Drinker Modern Vikings AU Request [Ivar x F!reader]

catch up on the porno, I mean series, here.

requested by: @quantumlocked310 ♡

author’s note: thanks to this post, you’ll all be subjected to the written requests. here is the visual reference for the tattoo Hvitserk gets (image isn’t mine and all credit goes to it’s original owner). mentions of brotherly bickering, Hvitserk being scared and Ivar tattooing.

synopsis: You finally talk Hvitserk into getting some ink.

✎

“Did I miss it?” You say, nearly falling in through the main door of the shop. “I almost took the ambulance over here just because it has lights and sirens,” Hvitserk offers you an estranged look, one mixed with him being mortified and slightly impressed with your timing after the over night shift.

“I’ve never seen you this excited,” Sigurd calls from his spot, pulling a record from the shelf as he goes about lining it up, pulling the needle over so the music can fill the room.

“She doesn’t even get this excited when she sees my dick,” Ivar teases from his spot and you offer him a less than kind finger gesture. 

“Can you blame me?” You remark back and Ivar only returns your original hand motion. “Did you pick yet?” You the ask as Hvitserk studies Ivar’s portfolio, as if he will be quizzed on it at the end of the session.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” He groans, another turn of the laminated pages.

“All of our best talks happen when it’s in the ambulance cabin at four in the morning,” You laugh, patting his back as you round the small counter. Ivar’s hands are quick to seat you on his lap, wrapping around you almost instantly and you both breathe in relief.

“Long night?” Ivar asks softly in your ear.

“Routine bullshit,” You grumble back, his hands tracing up your back and you could almost fall asleep in the very spot. One hand leaves your spine, reaching along the counter to grasp the tall can of his energy drink, offering it to you but you only shake your head. “That crap tastes like cough syrup,” You add as Ivar downs another gulp.

“Hurry up Hvitserk, we’re here after hours for this,” Ivar calls before he pulls the can back to his mouth.

“Yeah, I can’t wait to pop your cherry,” You say and Ivar looses some of the energy drink through a spray from his lips.

“You can get her name on your ass,” Sigurd says, walking past Hvitserk and tapping his uniform clad back. 

“Why? So Ivar and I can match?” Hvitserk grumbles back and you laugh against Ivar’s chest. 

“How do they know about that?” Ivar asks you quietly, through a teasing voice and you raise slightly, giggling against his mouth as your catch his lips with yours.

“Oh, for fucks sake—Hvitserk here, do that one,” Sigurd says, tapping his fingers against the page. “Paramedic Ragnarsson gets an anatomical tattoo,” 

“Nice choice,” Ivar hums, standing to his full height with you latched still around him and he sets you to sit along the counter.

“Is it nap time for the baby?” Sigurd says, voice taking on a toddler’s tone as he sits back at the front desk, and at the receiving end of the pen that flies from Ivar’s grasp. Leather combat boots stalk along the dark wooden floors, pulling the design from its laminated home before Ivar sends the image through the printer in the far corner. Your eyes catch sight of his back, the muscles in his biceps, the veins on his forearms as he programs the machine to spit out the stencil. Looming your eyes up the gray fabric of the old band tee, over the locks that he’s starting to comb into a bun, and then down the dark wash jeans and over how they end in the tops of his shoes. More thoughts swirl about how you couldn’t wait to undress him when you two would go to your apartment.

As Hvitserk makes himself comfortable in the black leather chair, he rolls up the uniform sleeve, a quick unbutton and folding of the blue material, already deciding on where he deemed the appropriate placement. The curl of his sleeve stops above his elbow and you could see the faint burn mark on his wrist from when he tried to eat a marshmallow that was still on fire. You watched Ivar position himself at his station, a meticulous arrangement of his tools, setting everything in a straight line to connect. There was a squirt of the ink into the containers, a pull of gloves onto his hands, wiggling his fingers into their spots and cracking his knuckles. You bit down on your own tongue to stop that moan that tried so hard to escape. Taking the razor to shave off the blond fuzz, he gingerly laid the stencil on his brother’s inner arm, pressing it gently before pulling it back.

“Double check in the mirror that you like the placement,” Ivar says, tossing his head towards the back wall with the mirror surrounded by an intense wooded frame Floki had built. Hvitserk stands, and you see the slight tremor in his hands, never a fan of any sort of pain—intentional or not. You’ve seen this man cry at the sensation of a paper cut, and all but sob when he jerked his shin against the metal grate on the ambulance’s bumper. But, he was also the man who would tell the patients that it was going to hurt—the realignment, or when he set up the hare for an isolated femur fracture—it was going to hurt and they had his full permission to break his hand if need be. You laugh every time there’s an active labor call, and Hvitserk reassures the mother that he has two hands, and if she needs to break one to push her child out, he’s willing to suffer. It calms the hysteria, even on the worst calls you two had walked into, Hvitserk always knew how to calm any of the demons that danced in the ambulance. Ivar turns to you as Hvitserk gazes, probably far longer than other client has to date, and slides himself over to where you’re perched. There’s a removal of one glove, an index finger and thumb on your chin as he kisses you once, twice, and third time. 

“I already know what I want to eat for dinner,” He whispers against your ear, just loudly enough so you’re the only one to hear his words. “But make sure you leave the polo on, baby girl,” He adds, kissing your temple and nudging the badge that’s on your chest, as a slow blush roses over your cheeks while he turns back around. “Alright brother, ready?” He calls, tapping the seat of the chair and Hvitserk takes a final look before plopping both himself down and his arm against the cushion. 

“Is it going to hurt?” Hvitserk asks, trying to bite the smile he’s showing while both Ivar and Sigurd are preparing to throw whatever they can reach. “I’m sorry I couldn’t resist,” Ivar offers him another lethal glare, nearly plucking the smile from his lips as he begins to spread a thin layer of the ointment across the purple ink. There’s a buzz from the needle gun and Hvitserk whimpers not unlike a puppy. Ivar’s glove-clad fingers stretch to pull the skin taunt, taking the gun down the first line and wiping it with a paper towel.

“Still alright, sir?” You say to Hvitserk as if he’s a patient in your ambulance and you’re watching an IV start. 

“Can you hold my hand?” He whines in a faked voice of concern.

“No,” You say back and there’s a snicker from Sigurd on the far side of the shop. The room dulls to only the noise of the record, the vibration of the needle and you watch Ivar so effortlessly in his element. Eyes watching, concentrating on what he’s doing yet singing lowly to the lyrics of the song that floods your ears alike. He rolls his chair slightly, maneuvering Hvitserk’s arm to his liking as he holds it down with his own. Strength unmatched because his least favorite thing is when the client fidgets, since it sends his work to become sloppy, and he’s grown accustomed to a way to hold the body part down to his liking. And that sight makes you think about him over you, body weight pressing against you like a weighted blanket, one with a smart mouth and curved lip who melts at the sheer stroke of your nails on his skin. Your thoughts rolls from the shift you worked prior, reanalyzing what you had done, gone through, pulling it to part like thread. They roll like waves but crash with thoughts of Ivar, his small comment earlier and then they shift. From work to pleasure and you’re squeezing your thighs before you realize it. Ivar’s voice comes through your ears to halt the dissection, and you move your head to see Hvitserk admiring the piece now forever on his skin and you smile back. Another layer of ointment and then it’s wrapped tightly with Ivar’s instructions to leave it on for an hour. 

“See? No need to be a little baby about it,” You tease him and he laughs.

“That’s his default setting,” Sigurd’s voice calls as he stands up. “Ivar you’re closing up tonight, right?” And Ivar just nods. “I will see your smiling face tomorrow morning then,” He adds sarcastically, and with a wave and check of his pockets he’s out the shops front door.

“Wasn’t as terrible as I thought,” Hvitserk jokes. “Maybe I will get your name on my ass after all,” You offer him a faked smile and forged laugh. “I’m going to head out too, I got the over time for tomorrow,” And he’s gone with a salute through his hand and the hundred dollar bill on the desk, leaving you and Ivar alone in the shop.

“I like seeing you in here,” You say softly as you watch him clear his materials, place everything in their homes and he smiles while he works. “You’re so relaxed,”

“I can say the same thing when I see you in that ambulance, baby,” He replies as he casts a look back to you and then he’s standing, arm grabbing you to come into his side. “Now let’s get going, I’m really looking forward to my dinner…”

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[noritoshiikamo]

this is how you fall in love

pairing: kuroo tetsuroo + fem!oc genre: friends into lovers fluff with slight suggestive end tags//warning: nothing major // slight suggestive at the end if you squint enough note: the obligatory trio of mine: not well edited, lowercase intended, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it. o wow look ive been posting back to back, ive been writing nonstop lately watch me ghost my stories in few weeks guys my brain = rotting, plus lately ive been feeling emotionally abuseddrained so i need something fluffy

listen to this is how you fall in love by jeremy zucker + chelsea cutler for maximum feels

“you’re a lifesaver.”

kuroo huffed, eyes rolling back with a small laugh as he unlaced his sneakers and slipped the room slipper on. it was odd to see the gymnasium without any nets or balls sprawled around. the gym has been closed for a week now in preparation for the upcoming open school event and currently under the art club’s jurisdiction. under her jurisdiction with her canvases and paints and it pained him to see her ruining his sacred place. he carried two plastic bags and holding two boba teas in the same hand. he wasn’t sure which one she was more excited for; the boba, the paints she made him ran to an art supply shop or him. she reached out, the bobas in his hand exchanged as she settled it on the floor, and she squealed at the sight of the plastic bag. he frowned.

yup, not him.

tins of different colors of paint that she ran out mid painting that she forgot to buy had her dialing his number and now it’s all here. all thanks to kuroo tetsuro. she grimaced at the price tags; it was costly than her usual one. usually, she would’ve gotten her supplies online, but desperate measure calls for desperate solution. she could always claim her expenses with the club. typical kuroo, she huffed. he always preached about getting the best, not minding the price tags but she’ll be the victim of his nonstop complaining that he’s getting broke every single day. she tucked a stray hair back and mentally counted how much she owed the man as she arranged the tins on the table.

kuroo noticed that look; same look she had when they are in the math class and he clicked his tongue, “tch, you’re not paying.”

“i’m reimbursing you with the club money,” she shook her head and reached for her bag, “please kuroo, it’s so expensive.”

he reached for her wrist and she dropped the tote bag as he invaded her space. kuroo rested the palm of her hand right above his heart, his own around the waist and another under her chin as he tilted her chin up. his heartbeat was erratic, and she flushed. “it’s okay,” he said, softly. her lips formed into a small pout and he fought the urge to just kiss her.

their dynamic is something even kenma couldn’t figure it out.

they weren’t exactly dating. they are friends, close friends, and classmates. it has always been him, her and occasionally yaku; creating the chaotic duo/trio of class 5. they both played volleyballs, both captains while he’s the middle blocker, she’s their female team’s setter. they knew a lot of each other’s friends from other schools; he was the reason why she dated akaashi keiji from the first place. it was selfish of kuroo to admit to bokuto a month after they started dating that he disliked the idea of them together. typical kuroo is no longer snarky, he felt lost, felt like he was losing his other half. so, he confided to his close friend, the simpleton ace.

“you didn’t make any moves, kuroo, you can’t blame them.”

bokuto noted as them both stared at the two setters, playing around the fallen cherry blossoms. bokuto never seen akaashi smiled that much and kuroo could only wished that she smiled the same way to him. kuroo stared at the half bitten onigiri he’d been holding, suddenly every bite he took tasted bitter. every trace of akaashi on her gave him bitter taste. she liked wearing akaashi’s jersey; kuroo longed to see her in his own numbered jersey; she’s his number one after all. her own jersey number is as same as akaashi. it’s not like kuroo could hate anything he did; he treated her well. akaashi was a perfect boyfriend and everyone knew. that’s why kuroo hates him; he gave him no reason to hate the dude. it didn’t last long however, they drifted apart 6 months later, sending her to kuroo’s doorstep soaked in rain.

he stared at her soaked figure with no thoughts in mind.

“he dumped me,” she said, voice hoarse and shivering.

he was alone and was about to leave for kenma’s, but he couldn’t leave her alone. dropping his keys on the small table by the door, he threw his jacket back in the closet. “come in,” he whispered, pulling her figure in. dropping her bag on the floor, she clutched on his sleeves as she kicked off her soaking shoes. “i’m sorry, my mom isn’t home and i can’t find my keys,” she was a blabbering mess and he hushed her. he left her for a few minutes, coming back with a steaming towel and a clean shirt and pants. “it’s from the dryer. you can borrow my sister’s clothes,” grabbing her hands, they ran upstairs where he took her to the bathroom. she was too quiet, so he called her name. when she looked up to him, her eyes were red. she was no longer crying, more confused and upset. her cheeks flushed and he could see her teeth chattering. he wished nothing but to throw his fist at the man. finally, he got a reason to square up the stoic man; he always hates the way nothing could riled up akaashi.

“he’s stupid for doing you like this.”

she shook her head, “it’s nobody’s fault.”

“then stop blaming yourself,” he ruffled her hair, a small smile appeared from the corner of her lips as she watched him disappeared closing the door behind him. he left her with the hot water running, urgently grabbing the mop and bucket from the kitchen, and wiping the trail of her soaked feet has left before it could ruin the wooden floor.

cant come over, busy, ill tell u later

kuroo texted kenma. the pudding head left him on read.

they spend the night together, sitting on the floor with pillows pilling against the end of the bed as they sat in arms. he had his tv opened to one of the late-night game show. they sat in silence, her head rested on his shoulder and her lips pressed into a tiny line. at the corner of his eyes, he could see her phone’s notifications blaring despite being on mute. the number isn’t saved but it was familiar. she deleted his number already, probably out of rage, but it’s a good step.

tell me where you want me to drop your stuff im sorry i hope youre okay y/n? i heard it was storming did you make it back home? give me a call im calling you okay?

just as like what the message stated, the unknown number called her. it startled her which startled him too. she stared down on the screen, he noticed the grip on the phone and wondered how the phone did not break yet. “can you answer it for me?” she said, holding the phone out to the black-haired man. shocked, he took the phone and pressed the green button. he pressed the phone to his ear and heard her name being called.

“hey man,” kuroo cleared his throat, “listen-”

“she’s with you?” the voice- akaashi asked.

looking down on the girl who was pretending to not have any interest in the call at all, eyes focused on the gameshow, kuroo sighed.

“she is. listen, i think you should leave her alone.”

“kuroo, i know about your feelings. for her. bokuto-san told me about it. if you think that this is the proper way to get her when she’s vulne-”

kuroo bit the inside of his cheeks. he was offended that akaashi dared to call him out like that. “so, what? she made her pick,” the girl turned to face him, brows up wondering what they are talking about.

“that’s low, even for you, kuroo-san.”

their eyes met. he didn’t even realize how deep the cut on his palm where he had balled his fingers into a fist until she touched it. he calmed down. “you hurt her. you have no right to say what’s low or not. be a bigger man, leave her alone,” he muttered flatly, before ending the call. they didn’t break eye contact until he realized what he had done.

“i-i shouldn’t have done that.”

she shook her head, “stop blaming yourself,” a small smile on her face.

that was 3 months ago.

kuroo had made moving on easy for her. akaashi and her remained friendly, although kuroo noticed that she tended to avoid him when possible. the breakup was indeed mutual, but merely on the fact that he lost feelings. akaashi had fallen out of love with her and in love with some other girl but who was she to judge when she was falling in love with the rooster head in silence. they still hang out with bokuto and akaashi but rarely with the latter.

she made him apologized to the fukurodani’s setter too and they remained on friendly term, still practiced together whenever they have training camps together where akaashi had admitted one training night that kuroo and her looks better together. kuroo didn’t say anything, not that he knew what to reply to that (his mind scream fuck yeah we do) but shrugged at his statement. “i guess dating her made you less pain in the ass, kuroo-san,” akaashi joked as they resumed the game.

kuroo was pulled back to reality when he felt his lips brushed against something. his eyes widened when he realized what it was. a quick kiss from her. he blinked frantically, trying to comprehend what had just happened which caused the girl to laugh. “did you just?” he asked confused by what had just happened which she nodded. she bit her bottom lip to hold herself from bursting into a laugh. “god, you should see your face. it’s so stupid. and every girl called you the playboy captain huh?”

he huffed and rolled his eyes, “i am not. i’ve been loyal to one girl for many years now, she is the one who hasn’t notice me at all,” he faked his pout, refused to look her directly in the eyes, praying that she wouldn’t notice his reddening cheeks.

“she must’ve been so stupid,” she teased, her nose rubbing gently against his jawline as she rested her figure against his closer. his chin rested against her head.

“she is,” he looked down on her, his arms around her waist tighter, “i don’t think she knows this but if she leaves me, i think i’ll be so broken inside. is it selfish to say that?” a small frown appeared on her face.

“i don’t think she ever talked about leaving you.”

a grin grew on his face, “so you know who i’m talking about huh?” she fell into his trap. she rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out, calling him stupid. he studied her face, his grin softened into what yaku and his volleyball team called the kuroo is stupidly in love with y/n but refused to admit face. his fingers ran into her hair which she had been growing out in few months down to her shoulder because she thinks that he likes her better that way. the way she tried to subtly put on make up to look better that the other girls who’s shamelessly flirting with him. she was too stupid to realize that he had loved her beyond that.

he loves the rough pads on her hands from holding her paintbrushes and volleyball. he loves that she works hard for everything she’s doing be it studying, volleyball or arts, she would put her blood, sweat and tears into it. he loves that she would wait for him to buy lunch so they can eat together in class. he would buy her a box of milk which she insisted that she doesn’t need too; but he convinced it would be good for her. he wants the best for her.

he loves that all the missing clothes he’s complaining about is in the back of her closet or on her. his cream hoodie hanging behind her closet door, his random pile of t-shirts in a basket on the floor of her closet that he liked to left beside the mix pile of her shoes and his one big ass nike shoes. her room isn’t messy, it is because she kept the messiness in her closet. she also like to keep random stuff of him too. the one medal he won from a science fair hung on the headboard of her bed, the misshapen looking hand wax sculpture of their hands intertwined from a funfair where she rested a purikura of them on it and a lucky bamboo plant he gave on her birthday to compromise on the no gift rule.

“for luck,” he grinned.

unlike hers, he kept her item neatly in his drawer. your spare shirts that he borrowed and refused to return, extra towel and her toiletries, some of her drawing blocks and a small cat shaped pouch where she kept her allergies medication. mostly hidden because his annoying friends come over often and would accidentally talk about it in front of his grandparents. but, on his bedside table, he has a cup of pencils by the bed where he collected the art supplies she left behind, random markers and paintbrushes, a clay sculpture of a trinket plate she made from art club (she carved a tiny letter k in the corner beside the obvious looking genitalia drawing) and a fake plant which she was sure he will not be able to kill it.

he loves it when she wore his jersey. he lost his mind when he found out that her current season number is the same as his. he’s in love. the first time he saw her in his jersey, the number one jersey on her body was during their training. he lost concentration; mouth hung a bit. he got so flustered that he let lev served the ball straight to his head. usually, lev would be dead by now, but he doesn’t mind. his nose bled but to see her kneel beside him, clutching on his own shirt screaming how stupid he is, wiping the blood away with towel, he could only say how pretty she looked. all his teammates were startled, her included. she clutched on his collar angrily; her knees stung from when she leaped down to his side, but this idiot could only smile at her with a bloody nose. “you are fucking idiot,” she cried out angrily, pushing him away before throwing the towel on his face leaving the pleased third year laying on the floor.

he loves the way she would find a way to impress him, be it as ridiculous as the halloween costume idea she had where they’ll go as the front and end of a horse or as serious as the submitted college application to the same university he had gotten into. “you are not getting rid of me that easily, tetsu,” the evil look on her face as she clicked the submit button send shivers down his spine.

“if you leave, i think i’ll cry,” he confessed, his smile slowly died.

“kuroo tetsuro is going to cry after me?” she teased. he nodded eagerly. “does kuroo tetsuro realized that we are literally moving into the same university? i couldn’t catch a break from him,” she faked her annoyance which he playfully avenged by sending her on the floor laughing as he tickled her. tears trickled down her cheeks as she begged him to stop, screaming to get away from his grip. “please, kuroo, i’m going to pee if you don’t stop!” he obliged, tears prickled the corner of his own eyes from laughing too much. straddling her waist, he gathered her wrists in one hand over her head. “apologize and said that kuroo tetsuro is the best man in your life or i swear i’ll make you pee,” he threatened her playfully, wiggling the fingers of his free hand close to her waist. her eyes widened in fears.

“that’s not fair!”

“apologize first.”

“fine!” she pouted, “i’m sorry, i won’t make fun of you again. now get off me!”

he raised his eyebrow, “andddd?”

“annddd-” a teasing smile appeared on her face as she said the next 5 words that send him to mars and back; “i love you kuroo tetsuro.”

he froze in shock. he heard the words before but never in this way; never for him.

finally, i think i got the calculation, love you yaku! lev you’re adorable but so stupid, i love it! thank you for letting me borrow your game, kenma. you’re the best, love ya!

the grip on her wrists loosened. taking advantage of his shock state, she pushed him back, straddling him by the waist, pinning his own hands above his head, giving him the taste of his own medicine. “i’m not going to leave your sorry ass, tetsu. i hope you don’t regret it,” she leaned down, capturing his lips with a longer kiss. letting go of his wrist, her hand went immediately into his rooster hair while another cupped his cheek, deepening their kiss. she could feel his cold palm resting against her bare waist and she shuddered. between the kisses, he heard her whispering his name. “kuroo, do you love me too?” she asked so innocently with kisses between the words but the way she grabbed a handful of his hand in a fist felt so dirty, eliciting a strangled moan from the back of his throat. she pulled back, staring down on his eyes as his lips moved.

“i love you too.”

nothing in his hazel eye but sincerity. he groaned when she pulled herself out of his reach, missing her warm body as she laughed. straightening her sweater back, pulling her hair back up into a tighter ponytail before she picked up the paintbrush she dropped. the paintbrush left a white stain on the court. as if kuroo wasn’t here, whimpering underneath her a minute ago, she continued her work. “i need to finish the mural by this week and you’re not exactly helping me,” she warned him, pointing the wet brush his direction. through the corner of her eyes, he was propped on his elbows, still staring at her, causing her to blush profusely. it annoyed him that she would tease him, then leaving him high and dry. before she could crack open the new paint tin, he ignored her warning as he tackled her back into his arms.

breathless against her lips, he told her to continue later. the urgency and rawness of his voice made her putty immediately. looking up the man, she pouted her lips.

“kuroo-san,” she whined as he captured her bottom lips.

he elicited a soft moan from the girl. he grinned against her lips. a hand rested firmly beside her head while another snaked under the sweater. there will be bruise tomorrow, she was sure of it, he will make sure of it.

“it will be quick, baby. i promise.”

she has no objection.

[rowanwhitethornisbae]

Faking It Chapter 6

Hey! I know its been a while so click on the master list if you want to catch up or even start. Im going to try to start updating more frequently in the next few months. Thanks to everyone for reading!!

TW: Language, drinking, sexual references, blood

Faking It Masterlist

Aelin woke with a start to the sound of her phone ringing.

"Shit." She swore, quickly realizing she must've fallen asleep after her conversation with Fenrys. She hung up on the call, silencing that obnoxious ringing as she sat up in bed. Aelin hadn’t bothered to check who it was, but she knew she'd figure it out if she went back downstairs.

It was probably Lysandra, calling to make sure Aelin wasnt already passed out drunk somewhere. It wouldn't be the first time. Groaning internally, she picked herself up off the bed. Despite her falling asleep, the duvet covers looked unruffled. Still, she fluffed the pillow briefly in an attempt to ease her own discomfort at sleeping in Dorian's room.

With one last look to confirm that the room appeared undisturbed, Aelin closed the door shut behind her. She made it halfway down the staircase when the exhaustion hit her. It was a familiar feeling, like when you were abruptly waken from sleep to attend a six am practice at school. Still, she clung extra hard onto the railing for a moment in order to gain her bearings once again.

As her eyes finally focused, she could make out the throng of high schoolers in the living room below her. Her eyes adjusted to the colourful lights as she scanned the area for a familiar face. She saw Lorcan first, and then Rowan beside him, the latter scowling. At first it didn't seem odd, Rowan was always scowling at something. She took another few steps down the stairs, and with closer examination, realized something was wrong. 

She tracked Rowan’s glare across the room, landing on her ex-boyfriend and the guy who’s bed she’d just fallen asleep in. “Shit shit shit!” Aelin said to no one in particular as she hurried down the stairs. She reached Rowan at nearly the exact second that Chaol and Dorian did. 

“Hey guys.” She said, slightly out of breath. Chaol gave her a once over and his brows furrowed at whatever he saw. 

“Pull your skirt down A.” His voice was full of unjustified disdain. “You look like you just got railed in a bathroom.” 

Aelin glanced down at herself. Her skirt was in fact, extremely ridden up, and half her ass was falling out. In her haste to prevent a fight she had forgotten to check her appearance. She knew she should pull it down, what Chaol said was completely logical. And yet, they were broken up, who the hell was he to tell her what to do. 

Aelin shot him her sweetest simpering smile. “Maybe I did.” 

He bit out a harsh laugh, and she felt Rowan’s body tighten beside her. “Who the hell - “ Chaol started to say, but was cut off by his mouth falling open. 

Aelin, tired of hearing her ex speak, had taken action into her own hands. From the left of Rowan, she placed her right hand on his far cheek and spun her body around smoothly, bringing her lips to his. 

For a moment, he didn't reciprocate the gesture and Aelin’s heart began to race. Just as she began to pull away, his arm came around her lower back, and he started to really kiss her. Her other hand tangled in his hair as they stood intertwined. 

The rest of the room seemed to fall away, the music becoming faint and the lights dim as she kissed him. Someone coughed from beside them, pulling Aelin out of her daze. Slowly, she extracted herself from Rowan and turned back around to Chaol. He was staring at them, looking as though he’d just been slapped. 

Aelin delighted in the feeling of power flowing through her veins. She tucked her hands behind her back, and realizing her skirt had ridden up even further, she pulled it down. There were lines that even Aelin wasn't willing to cross to prove a point. 

To Dorian’s credit, he looked incredibly amused with the entire situation, and was clearly trying to stifle a laugh. Chaol’s expression was pretty funny, Aelin noted. 

Unfortunately, it didn't last forever. Aelin recognized the exact second when he went from shocked to angry. Everything about him changed; his eyes, his posture, the way he held his hands. He was on the offensive now, and all Aelin could do was brace herself for the coming verbal assault. 

“You whore.” He spat. 

Un-original. Aelin thought to herself. He really needed new material. 

“I always knew you were fucking him on the side.” Chaol’s whole body was trembling with anger, and even Dorian had the good sense to look unnerved. 

Aelin didn't dare look at Rowan or Lorcan. “Chaol.” She said calmly, “lets go somewhere else to talk about this.” She was quickly growing un-easy. Aelin had wanted a reaction. Yes. But she wasn't expecting the look of pure hatred shining in Chaol’s eyes. The usually soft brown had darkened to a near black, making him look unhinged.  

He ignored her soft request completely. “How long Aelin?” He asked, his voice suddenly deadly soft. “How long did you wait after fucking me before you were back in his bed.” 

Suddenly Aelin felt a little ill. “It wasn't like that.” She hated how quiet her voice sounded. 

“Then what was it like huh?” 

“Please Chaol,” she half begged. “Can we just talk somewhere else?” 

“Why?” The expression on his face had turned evil. “You don't want the whole room to know that you're a fucking whore.”

He yelled the last word, but luckily it got lost in the music. 

“It’s pathetic really,” he turned back on her. “Your constant need for male validation.” 

He gave her outfit a once over, and Aelin found herself wishing she’d worn something more conservative. 

“You are worthless.” He spat the words again, shaking his head with faux-disappointment. “You’re parents probably killed themselves to get away from you.” 

Aelin barely had time to process the words before Rowan exploded. His fist connected with Chaol’s cheek, sending the latter flying backwards. He hit the ground hard, people and plastic cups scattering in his wake. Rowan was on him in an instant, pummelling his face into the tile floor. Blood leaked from Chaol’s face, seeping onto his shirt and the floor. 

Aelin didn't even hear Lorcan swear and run over to Rowan. She was too focused on trying not to scream. Lorcan threw his arms around Rowan, attempting to pull the thrashing high-schooler away. Rowan fought in Lorcan’s arms, before eventually slowing his efforts. 

Dorian, swearing under his breath, knelt beside Chaol. The room was spinning, and Aelin’s head fucking hurt. She stumbled through the room, trying to find the exit. There was a loud roaring in her ears, and spots danced in her vision. 

Fuck. What if she fainted at a high-school party? Aelin would never live that shit down. 

“Oof.” She grunted as she slammed into a wall. Aelin groped about blindly, searching for a door. She nearly collapsed with relief as she found one, and threw herself in, shutting the door. She barely had time to lock it before she was vomiting, most of it landing in the toilet. 

“Fucking hell!” A voice exclaimed loudly. Aelin allowed herself to finish retching before she turned to face her latest stroke of bad luck. Could she not be alone for five fucking seconds?

The male beside her was clearly just finishing up washing his hands, as he was still holding a hand towel. “Aelin?” He asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. 

“Cairn.” She grumbled in reply, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Aelin had never really liked Cairn. He hated Chaol with a passion, envied her ex-boyfriend for getting the captain spot in sophomore year, a spot that everyone thought was going to Cairn. 

Despite the poor timing, Aelin had been meaning to track Cairn down to talk. Far be it for her to give up this perfect opportunity, vomit and near panic attack aside. She slowly pulled herself into a standing position and nudged Cairn away from the sink so she could splash some water on her face. The cold helped centre her again, and Aelin let herself take a deep breath. 

Cairn was watching her with a look of apprehension, as if watching a slow motion car crash.

“I heard about your bet.” She said in a monotone voice. 

Cairn’s jaw tensed, but that was all the physical reaction he showed. 

“Im not going to try anything.” He said softly, surprising her a little. “I have a thing about vomit.” 

Suddenly Aelin was thankful for the small nearly invisible chunks of throw-up left on her shirt. 

“Am I supposed to thank you for not being a dick?” She asked him

“I didn't ask you to. You thanked me enough with that show out there. I just won 200$ off a bet I made a year ago.” 

“A bet on what?” She asked, unsure of if she really even wanted to know. 

Cairn smirked. “Who would throw the first punch?” 

Aelin couldn't help the way her whole body tensed. “You seem to be betting a lot lately.” 

“I had a thousand dollars on you and me getting together at this party A.” He shrugged as if the loss of that kind of money didn't matter to him. “You owe me.” 

She decided to ignore the last part of the comment. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” 

He arched an eyebrow. “You’re going to fuck me?” 

Against her own wishes she bit out a small laugh. The joke wasn't even funny, and slightly offensive, but the look of hope on his face did enough. 

“No. I’m just going to let you tell people I did.” 

He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “And why would you do that?” 

She tried to hide how much she had riding on his response. “Your going to let Rowan on the football team. Or at least a try out.”

Cairn laughed, a real laugh. “Chaol will murder me.” 

She tapped her foot. “You get a thousand dollars and can tell everyone whatever you want about me.” She paused. “Just nothing too humiliating okay?” 

His answering grin was borderline wicked. “Deal.”

The shook hands briefly. Aelin didn't really mind Cairn telling people about the two of them, it would either be dismissed entirely as a rumour or forgotten soon there after. Besides, she had more important things to worry about. 

The door handle turned and she spun around. “I’ll leave you alone then.” Cairn said, nodding at her. He had stepped mostly out before he paused once again. 

“Sometimes Aelin I wonder if you and me are soulmates.” 

She nearly choked on air. “What.” 

He just smiled, a softer smile than she’d ever seen on him. “We’re just more alike than you think.” With that he left, closing the bathroom door behind him. 

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Cryptic fucking prick. 

Aelin took a few moments to finger brush her hair and straighten her clothes before exiting the bathroom. God high school parties were awful. She just needed to get to the front door without bumping into anyone of note, call an uber, and get the fuck home. Not too bad right? 

She managed to get about halfway before someone called her name. Aelin didn't bother to look around, just kept elbowing through the crowd as if her life depended on it. 

“Aelin!” The voice was louder this time, getting closer too. 

She had just made it to the threshold when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Choosing to ignore it, Aelin flung open the door and half collapsed onto a step, praying that whoever it was could take a hint. 

Unfortunately for her the weight shifted on the wooden porch and Chaol Westfall took the seat beside her. 

She got up to leave immediately, despite her exhaustion, but he reached out a hand. 

“Please.” He said. “Just hear me out. It’ll be quick.” 

Aelin did. But only because she was pretty sure she would collapse if she didn't rest for a little longer. 

“Aelin I'm really fucking sorry okay. I crossed a line.” 

She didn't bother to reply. Aelin couldn't count the amount of times they’d had this exact same conversation. He said something shitty, she walked away, he apologized a day later. 

For some fucked up reason she always forgave him. Aelin didn't have the energy to make tonight any different. She wanted to be on good terms with Chaol, even if that meant taking a slight hit to her dignity. If she had any left. 

“I mean I know you’re not sleeping with Rowan so everything is okay.” 

She whipped her head around to look at him. 

“Is that the only reason you’re apologizing?” 

He gave her a once-over. “I mean yeah.” He paused. “You weren't fucking him so there was no reason for me to get mad.” 

She shook her head, mad at herself for being surprised. “God Chaol. Each time I think you can't be an ever bigger dick, you prove me wrong.” 

She moved to stand leaning slightly on the railing. An Uber was parked along the curb, evident from the odd looking U on the windshield. She stumbled towards it and rapped on the window. 

“Are you Yrene?” The man in the driver’s seat asked. 

Aelin nodded, sliding into the back seat. She closed the door behind her and rested her head against the head rest, fighting off sleep. 

“I am.” 

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[ragingbakusimp]

And I’m Still Hurting - Bakugou x Reader

Angst to fluff ⛅️

TW ⚠️ Mentions of PTSD from abuse

16+ (Mentions of adult content and language)

Ripples of sunlight spill through the shutters, warming the exposed flesh of your legs. The bed covers shift like the lazy laps of waves against sand as the body next to yours rises from the cotton bedding. Long lashes cascade a shadow across your cheeks as they flutter open, welcoming the fresh light of morn.

Stood, staring out the window, was the man you loved. Your soulmate. His silhouette stood tall and muscular, hands firmly gripping the window sill as he most likely glared at the streets below. Sitting up in bed, your skin almost glistened in the glittering beams of the sun. Noticing the sound of movement, Katsuki turns toward you, his face serene.

His form moves towards you, placing himself on the edge of the bed. Heated lips are pressed against your temple as you cling to the duvets, holding them up to cover your exposed bust. 

“Good morning.”

His gravelly voice sends shivers down your spine as you smile sleepily.

“Mornin’.”

Scars and bruises cover his torso and arms, signs of his victories, as everyone knows, Katsuki never loses. He rises yet again, his warmth leaving with him. Pondering round the room, he finds the necessities needed before he packs his bag for work. Leaning down over you, he grazes his lips against your ear.

“I love you, Teddybear.”

And with that, he picks up his things and leaves the bedroom you share, giving you time to get ready yourself. He treasures the purity of you. In the nights, long gone is your innocent tone and angelic aura as you scream his name and beg him for more, nails creating long scratches down his back as you cling onto him for dear life. He treasures the marks you leave on each others skin. He treasures the way you throw your head back as you both climb the mountain. He treasures the moment his lips meet your jugular, your racing pulse against his mouth. 

Yet he also treasures the sleepy mornings. The return of the innocence. The way you stare up at him like he carries your entire world on his shoulders. These sentiments drag him through each day, no matter how easy or tough. He knows he's coming home to your care, your love, your heart. 

Today would test him though.

The walk to work was quiet. Katsuki could tell something clouded your mind as your eyes stayed trained on the footpath in front of you. Shining windows reflected the early morning sun as the agency came into view. What could have switched your mood? Katsuki wondered. You loved your job, you loved him, what was there to be sad about? Concern and anxiety bubbled up inside of Katsuki. Clocking in was also silent. The ash-blonde male watched as you got into your hero costume, your face was a blank slate.

“Oi, Dumbass, you good?”

(E/C) eyes darted up and stared directly into his own. Like a mask, a fake smile was smeared across your cheeks.

“Yeah Suki, all good here.”

Sucking on his lip, he didn't pry. Nodding firmly, he zipped his costume up and motioned for you to join him in leaving the cubicle. Grabbing your hero mask, you quickly trailed behind him. You both worked under Hawks’ agency. You checked the spreadsheet and you were both on patrol together in the sketchiest part of town. 

Katsuki scanned your face as you both made your way into your patrol area. Many poor families lived here, and the crime rate was astronomically high. Many young children played out on the streets as their mothers watched them closely, smiling to the two of you as you walk by, grateful for your watching eyes as heroes. Small dainty fingers interlaced with Katsuki’s as you clung to his hand. It was almost like he could feel your heart racing. 

“Oi, what's wrong?”

You simply shook your head as you clung to him, clouds starting to dim the gentle light of the sun, the world turning grey. A man emerged from behind a car, his gaze landing on you and Katsuki. 

“(Y/N)? Is that you?”

The fiery male felt you tense. Your quirk was mental manipulation. You could manipulate things well, mentally. Telekinesis, telepathy and mind control were all in the palm of your hand. Katsuki watched as your hand gripped around his, small pebbles beginning to float off the floor.

‘Suki, we need to leave.’

Your voice rang in his mind. Just as he pulled you in to move down another street, the man appeared in front of you both. You swallowed. The older male smiled crookedly at you as Katsuki observed.

“Can we help you?”

The older man chuckled sickeningly. 

“Still clinging to a man hoping he’ll protect you I see. Do you still hold all that stuff against me? Come on now baby, you know I did it to make you stronger.”

Katsuki furrowed his brow. 

“(Y/N) do you know this geezer?”

“I’m her father you punk.”

You seemed to mumble something under you breath as he spoke those words.

“What did you say?” 

The male spat at you as Katsuki held your hand tighter.

“No. You're not my father. You never have been. You hurt me and my brother. You deserve to sit in this shit pit and rot. You are not and never will be the reason I’m the hero I am today.”

“You little shit. After all these years that's your idea of a thank you? I BUILT YOU FROM NOTHING!”

The older male raised his hand and Katsuki's instincts kicked in as he blew him half way down the street with his palm. You buried yourself into his side as a million thoughts drilled into Katsuki’s skull. Snapping back into reality, he radioed the police. The local squad arrested the male and assured Katsuki they would be running a full report on him. All the angry male could do was watch your solemn shaking form. 

The rest of the day trailed on. You barely spoke, disappeared during your lunch break and came back with puffy eyes and red cheeks. By the time you both got home it was late. Katsuki had stopped by the station to collect the report on the man who claimed to be your father. The apartment was dark and quiet, the first thing Katsuki noticing was you slinking off to the bathroom by yourself. He held his breath until he heard the shower running. 

‘Good.’

He thought, hoping the shower would help you clear your head; hopefully meaning you'll talk to him again. Katsuki sat down on the couch after removing his shoes and began reading through the report.

Name: Malcom (L/N)

Age: 56

Height: 5′11″

Convicted of: Domestic Violence, Petty Theft, Theft, Grievous Bodily Harm and Child Abuse.

Fuck. He abused you. No wonder you shut down completely after seeing him. Katsuki felt slightly less guilty about blasting that fucker down the street now. As Katsuki read the rest of the report, you stood in the shower rinsing away the dirt from today. Katsuki had showered at the agency but you just couldn't. You wanted to wait till you came home and felt safe. You scrubbed your face and rinsed the soap out of your hair before stepping out of the shower and drying yourself off. You plugged in the hair dryer and began to blow dry your hair. Staring into the mirror, you frowned at the girl that was reflected in the glass. She looked weak and tired, not strong like a hero. Brushing your hair and teeth, you finished up in the bathroom and left the steamy room. You quietly pottered around the kitchen, making some peppermint tea before heading to your bedroom.

Katsuki watched you disappeared into the bedroom and he decided it best to sleep too. Following behind, he opened the bedroom door to see you curled up under the covers. Changing out of his clothes and into just boxers, the ash blonde male joined you under the sheets. 

“He’s going to prison, you know.”

No response.

“I know what he did to you.”

Silence again.

“He won't hurt you ever again.”

Katsuki shuffled up behind, hugging you as he buried his nose into your hair. That was when he felt the shaking of your body and head the soft sobs that fell from your lips. Rolling you over, he pulled you tightly against his chest. Your shaky hands gripped to his shoulders as you hugged him close. 

“I-I’m weak Katsuki. Heroes should be strong.”

The ill-tempered male pulled you away from his chest and looked you dead in the eyes.

“No fucking way. No. You are the strongest person I’ve ever met. You stood and faced your trauma today. It takes a lot of fucking strength to do that. You are so strong and so grounded. That man didn't take anything away from you and he didn't break you either. He will rot in prison and you can make your life whatever you want. I will be here for you every single step of the way. I fucking love you cause you're dumb-ass but also a bad-ass.”

By the end of his speech you were giggling into his shoulder. Calloused fingers gently held your face as he wiped your tears. His crimson eyes warmed your heart as they stared at you lovingly. This was your soulmate. And you treasured the days and the nights, no matter how easy or tough. 

*SOBS* - Ragingbakusimp

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

Jamesy

Request: I really love your works on Harry Potter (basically marauders) Can I request 14, 16, 18, 23, 28 for James Potter. Can reader be Remus' twin sister, a Gryffindor? I I would be really happy to read it. Also if possible can you make a happy ending for it? I trust you can write a perfect fic! Thank you:) (are you still open to this kind of requests?)

14. “Wake me up when you have a brain.”

16. “Yeah I’m not wearing that.”

18. “How drunk was I?”

23. “You’re a dork.”

28. “I was joking! I swear!”

Requested by: @miniaturebananauniversitywinner (Can’t tag)

Paring: James Potter x Lupin!Reader

Word Count: 2.5K

~Master~

~Harry Potter~

Remus had always been the more responsible twin. You had always been the risk-it-all, life of the party girl. If someone had to guess who in your friend group you were siblings with, the only indication it was Remus would be the scars you and Remus both wear, due to your howl-at-the-moon sides. Everyone at Hogwarts knew of your scars but based on your personality everyone assumed you had gotten them from doing something rather ill-mannered and drug Remus along with you.

In fact, it was your idea to have a party in the common room tonight, supposedly celebrating Gryffindors win against Hufflepuff. The truth was the full moon was in a few days and you needed to let loose and have fun before giving your friends absolute hell while they deal with you and Remus. The house was livelier than it had been in a while as people started to get more and more tipsy and you found yourself jumping up on the table and dancing.

“Nice moves, Lupin!” Someone called out behind you as you spin around, nearly falling off the table. But once you saw who it was, a smile grew on your face and you literally jumped into his arms.

“Jamesy!” You cooed in his ear as your arms flew around his neck. James’ cheeks showed a dark red as he awkwardly patted your back, not used to the feeling of you pressed against him. You always were an affectionate drunk, and for some reason even more with him. Sirius would always tease him about it.

“Jamesy! Oh Jamesy, you’re my favorite!” Sirius would mock you when they were in their room late at night, flipping a fake head of hair as James would always fall back in laughter. They weren’t making fun of you, not at all, more into teasing James whenever possible. It was no secret James fancies you. The boy never tried to hide it, but you were rather obtuse and with Remus being the overprotective brother he was, you never really put two and two together. But that didn’t mean you don’t feel the same way, James was your favorite after all.

“Come on Y/N. I think you had enough partying tonight.” He said as he tried picking you up. Your eyes widened as you turned to run, not wanting the party to end. James reacted fast, grabbing you around the waist and keeping you from running away.

“James, no! I need this!” You begged him, trying to pull his arms off you.

“James? What happened to Jamesy?” He chuckled in your ear and he could feel you squirm in his arms as he loosened them, watching you turn around. He raised a brow as you threw your arms loosely over his shoulder, feeling your fingers tickle the back of his neck as he inhaled sharply.

“’Jamesy’ is only for nice boys.”

“Nice boys?” He smirked as you nodded and hummed a yes. “You’re a dork.”  Your jaw dropped as you looked at James, swaying slightly to the music in the air.

“You’re mean.” You mumbled quietly. The sight only made James smile. He didn’t know which Y/N he likes more, the cute carefree affectionate Y/N or the badass, tell it as it is Y/N.

“I was joking! I swear!” He laughed just seconds before a cold drink filled with ice spilled down your shirt. His smile dropped when he saw you freeze, letting out a high-pitched squeal and clinging onto James. James was about to yell at the person who spilled on you but you were practically shivering in his arms. “Come on love, lets get you changed.” You nodded and let him lead you up to your room. You were barely outside the door before James stopped walking.

“Why’d you stop?” You muttered, holding onto his arm. James sent you a smile before looking down at the handle, a red and yellow tie hanging off it. “Jamesy?” You picked your head up off his arm, looking down at the handle before bursting out in laughter. “That’s Sirius’.” You cackled out, seeing the words ‘Padfoot’ you wrote in the seam of the tie when Peter kept stealing the boy’s ties. You both heard a low woman’s moan coming from inside as you froze, looking to James to see his eyes just as wide.

“And that’s Marlene.” You nodded, trying to hide your laughs but that was easier to do when you weren’t drunk. James led you back down to the common room, bustling with laughter in every step. As soon as you were back in the party, you grabbed a drink off the table, downing it before James could stop you. James just glared at you when you were done, throwing the cup amongst the crowd. You grinned and James watched the arrogant expression on your face fall as the cup was tossed back at you hitting you in the head.

You pulled out your wand, ready to hex whoever spelled the cup to fly back at you but James pulled the wand out of your hand and threw you over his shoulder. You started to protest but the alcohol was starting to catch up to you. James brought you to the bathroom and put you down. You fell to your knees, letting your eyes close. James had squatted down next you, running a hand up and down your back to make you feel better.

“I’m good. I’m good.” You told him, letting him help you to your feet.

“Let’s get you changed into something… less wet.” He wiped his hand, now wet from your shirt, unto his pant leg before walking out into his room. He started heading towards your brother’s trunk to grab a shirt from him before he stopped himself, turning slowly to his own truck. He smirked as he grabbed a long-sleeved shirt from the top and headed back to you. You were sitting against the wall, your eyes closed as you hugged your knees, resting your head to the side. “You alive?” James joked.

You groaned and opened one eye at see his smirking ass leaning in the doorway. “Yes.” He snorted at you, grabbing your hands to pull you up. Holding the shirt out, you just stared at it. “Yeah, I’m not wearing that.”

“What are you doing to do? Be naked?”

“Maybe.” And there was the risk-it-all Y/N he loved. He cleared his throat, his heads widening at the thought before you took the shirt from him, gesturing for him to turn around. James followed, hearing you pull your own shirt off before slipping on his. “Okay.”

He turned back around, guffawing at the sight of you wearing the shirt backwards. He helped you turn it around and you let out a content sigh when it was done, feeling the warmth already from a dry shirt that felt like James. “Let’s get you on the bed.”

“Jamesy, take a girl to dinner first.” You joked and laughed at your joke as James groaned, running a hand through his hair.

“I meant your brother’s bed.” He clarified before you let out a sound of disapproval.

“No! Rem lays on me in his sleep!” You told him as you looked towards his bed, almost feeling the comfort from here. “Can I sleep in your bed?”

“I’m not sleeping next Remus. I heard he lays on people in his sleep.” He deadpanned. You chuckled, slapping him on the arm lightly and James stared fondly at you.

“No, you’d sleep in it with me.” You rested your head on his arm, both of you heading towards the bed. James gulped, stopping himself.

“How about you sleep in my bed and I’ll sleep in Sirius’. Figure he’d stay the night with Marlene.” You nodded and fell into the bed, seeing James smile down at you as you furrowed your brows.

“What are you smiling at, smiley?”

“Smiley?”

“Yeah, cause you’re smiling.” You always were good at making James blush. He pulled the blankets out from under and covered you up, your eyes starting to close. “You’re a good boyfriend, Jamesy.” You mumbled in your half-asleep state. James froze. You’ve never called him your boyfriend before. You saw him as a boyfriend. He was ecstatic.

“Go to sleep, Y/N, I’ll see you in morning.” He whispered and hope you couldn’t hear the smile taking over his face.

“Wake me up when you have a brain.” You muttered. James scoffed, crossing his arms while looking at you. “I’ll sleep forever.”

“You’re mean.” He mocked you from earlier, seeing your breathing even out meaning you were asleep. He stared for a few extra seconds, marveling at the sight of you on his bed before he pulled himself away and into Sirius’ bed.

“James. Prongs, wake up.” He felt someone shake his shoulder as he peeled his eyes open, seeing the lupin twin he hadn’t said goodnight too staring down at him.

“What?” he groaned out, rubbing his eyes.

Remus just glared at him, his jaw locking. “Why is my sister in your bed wearing your shirt?”

James’ eyes widened as he realized what Remus was asking. “No, no, no Moony, I promise we didn’t do any-“

“I know.”

James blinked as Remus donned a smirked. “What?” Remus just made his way back to his own bed and looked at James just past your sleeping body.

“Mate, I know you didn’t do anything with her. That’s why she’s in your bed and you’re in Sirius’.” James just nodded, unsure how to carry on with this conversation. “Oh, that and the fact you’re hopelessly in love in her.”

James had never scrambled out of his, well Sirius’, bed faster, making his way over to Remus. “Stop talking! She could wake up!”

“Notice how you didn’t deny it.” James stopped himself.

Well, damn it. Remus had him.

“Just be good to her, okay?” Remus looked over, seeing you stir in the bed and pull the hair from your face.

“What time is it?” You groaned, stretching your arms to the air. Remus glanced at James, seeing him still frozen as he clapped his back, getting your attention.

“It’s morning and you’re hungover.”

You sneered at him. “No shit, Rem.” You sat up in the bed, realizing it was James as you raised a brow to the boy. You remember the party, you remember James taking you from the party, you remember Sirius and Marlene, but you don’t remember why you were in James’ bed or even James’ shirt. You pulled the fabric away from your body to peek inside, seeing your bra still in place as you sighed happily.

“How drunk was I?” You asked, throwing your feet over the side of the bed. You stretched your body, feeling a few cracks as your head pounded. Remus bit his lip, holding back a laugh as he turned to see James thinking about how to handle this situation.

He rolled his eyes, kicking James out of his bed and over to you. “Don’t worry, Jamesy was there to take care of you.” You rolled your eyes at your brother mocking you, probably tired of hearing about your crush on the boy. Remus was up and out of the room the instant James’ stumbling stopped and he looked back at him.

The door slammed as James sighed, looking at a hungover you cuddling back into his blankets. He chuckled. “You know we have class, right?”

You peeked an eye out of the covers at him. “You have class. I have a hangover.”

“And whose fault was that?” He heard you mumble against the blankets as he smirked, slowly pulling the blankets away. “What was that?”

“It was mine!” You yelled out, wincing from your own volume. “But you were being mean.”

James paused, feeling his heart pound a little faster when he licked his lips, considering his next words. “I thought I was a good boyfriend.” He watched the color drain from your face as you gulped, trying to hide under the blanket. “Oh no, you don’t.” He threw the blanket off his bed, leaving you staring up at him wide eyed. “Should we maybe talk about that? About what you said.”

“Look, James I was drunk-“

“I wanna be a good boyfriend.” You stopped yourself, believing you were imagining it. James stood straighter, trying to feel confident. “I wanna be a good boyfriend. I wanna be your boyfriend.”

A grin slowly spread on your face, as James stumbled over his words. “You wanna be my boyfriend? As in, you actually feel that way about me?”

“God, yes.” He breathed out as he fell onto the bed. His relief was short lived though as he sat up. “Only if you felt the same. I mean, I don’t know if you were just drunk and rambling.”

“I wasn’t just drunk.” You cut him off, grabbing his hand to stop him. “I mean, I was drunk, but I meant it. I think you’d be a great boyfriend.”

“Well, can I be your boyfriend?”

“I’d be really disappointed at this point if you weren’t.”

“Great.”

“Great.” Neither of you said anything more as you stared at each other, not sure what to do next. You were the first person to make a move, pulling yourself over to James and pressing your lips to his. James’ wrapped his arms around you the moment you moved, pulling you against him as you straddled his legs. The feeling of your body against his this time, was something he knew he’d get used to, your lips being the part he liked more. James was already lost in the sensation as his door opened and you pulled your lips away, looking up to see Remus, Sirius, and Peter all looking at you both, smiles on their faces.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did we interrupt something?” Sirius asked as he walked into the room, falling into his well slept in bed. He didn’t seem to mind, too busy wearing a cocky grin as James turned to glare at him.

“Yes!” He said the same time you did. The three boys just laughed at you and James. You flipped them off behind James’ back before putting your lips back on James. The laughter stopped as you pushed James back onto the mattress, the kiss deepening.

“Run!” Sirius shouted and jumped off his bed, not wanting to see you and James go at it. He pushed Peter and Remus out the room, the latter’s face watching disgusted as his friend’s hand roamed his sister’s body.

“That’s my sister mate!” He shouted at James as you looked up, feeling James’ mouth move to your neck.

“Then don’t watch.” You smirked as Remus paused, dashing out of the room as fast as Sirius had. You threw your head back in laughter as James stopped kissing your neck, straining his own to check the door had closed.

“Thank goodness. I thought they’d never leave.” He rolled you off him as you laughed even more, moving to lay on the bed normally as James moved to join you.

You smiled as he cuddled up next to you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms loosely around your waist. The smile on his face matched your as you kissed it one more time. “Me too, Jamesy. Me too.”

A/N: I’m back for 20 minutes and you all get a Bellamy Blake series and a James Potter piece. Lmao, thoughts please?

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Home Is Where The Heart Is - Chap 2

Ladynoir July Day 11 - Comfort

i guess i did die before then, huh SORRY THIS IS LATE AAAAAAAHHH this was waaayyy longer than I expected, whoops,, anyway, we've reached our conclusion!! I tried proof reading it as best I could but it's like 1 am, and i also didnt do the art prompt for today but whattheever, school ends Wednesday, ill be fine, this makes me emotional and its probably bad but i hope you enjoy!

@ladynoirjuly2020

Chap 1   Chap 2 - Here

Ao3 Link

“I,” Chat took a deep trembling breath as a small sad smile formed on his face. “Okay,” he grasped Ladybug’s hand on his cheek and held it tight. “Okay.”

She smiled softly and took his hands in hers, leading him to follow her across the rooftops. 

The buildings around them became familiar as they leaped from rooftop to rooftop, and he'd be lying if he said his heart wasn't going a mile a minute in anticipation. His breath got caught in his throat as she landed on a particular balcony lit up in soft golden light. He landed behind her as she stood faced away from him, fiddling with her hands.

Chat felt his chest swell and he put a hand over his mouth, glancing around at the familiar balcony. There’s no way, no way...

"Tikki," she said with a small voice, cutting through the silence, "detransform me." 

He glanced up at her to see her suit fade away in red and white sparkles, revealing a simple pink t-shirt and sweatpants. Marinette turned slowly, looking down at the floor. Tikki hovered next to her head and glanced between them with a huge grin on her face. She waved at Chat and flew behind them into some plants.

Chat couldn't breathe. But it was a different kind of speechless than his sadness, this time, he had a million things he wanted to say, but no words reached his mouth.

"Surprise?" She laughed awkwardly and looked up at him from underneath her lashes, then, she was taken aback by his expression. 

He was grinning ear to ear, holding back tears, trying to take in a deep breath.

Worry covered her face and her hands flew up to reach out to him. "Chaton, are you-" she started, but was cut off by his bear hug.

"It's you," he breathed, holding her tight in his arms, freely sobbing again, but with tears of joy. "It's always been you." 

She wrapped her arms around him instantly and laughed into his hair, holding him tight. "It's me," she sighed. 

His heart swelled as he took her in, of course, it was her, of course, it was always her, who else could it have been? The two most treasured people in his life, the two he'd tried to sort out his feelings over, for almost a year, it was her, Marinette, Ladybug. The one who had carried him and held him in his lowest and the one who had jeered with him and laughed with him at his highest. The one who had snorted over stupid jokes and had cackled at bad movies with him. The one who tripped and dumped paint on both of them and helped him study for a history test. It was her.

Chat pulled back to hold her face and gaze into her eyes, smiling like a little kid. He shook his head in disbelief and laughed breathlessly, rubbing away stray tears. Was any of this real? How was he this lucky, there was no way he was this lucky. Was he? 

Marinette slipped her arms up and around his neck, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek lightly. He gasped, staring at her as she chuckled to herself. "Your face is so pink," she giggled, poking his nose.

"I- you-" he sputtered. How dare she look so cute while teasing him. Adrien tried to think of something to say in response but he only gaped at her as she continued to giggle at him. He settled on sighing heavily and smiling at her.

"Are you feeling better?" She asked, brushing his bangs back with a light hand.

"Yes, definitely," he sighed and rested his forehead against hers. A million times better.

"That's good," she said softly, closing her eyes. They swayed together, holding each other and just breathing.

"Marinette," he whispered. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Should I, um, y'know," he reached for the words.

"Detransform?" She offered.

"Yes, that," He sighed.

"If you want to, though it's probably best if you do, I'm not sure what my parents would say if I told them I was dating Chat Noir." She cringed, looking away nervously.

"Da-dating?" He stumbled. Oh, his face was very very warm.

Her cheeks turned rosy as she looked away from him. "W-well yeah, I, I mean. If- if you're cool with it, y'know, I, I wouldn't, y'know," she glanced back at him and let her head fall on his chest in exasperation. "You know what I mean," she groaned. 

"I do?" He asked, glancing down at her.

"I can hear your stupid smile you dumb tomcat," she replied. Chat laughed and lifted up her chin to see the very intimidating pout on her face.

"I know," he whispered, smiling at her. Chat closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Are you ready, cause I'm not sure I'm ready." 

"I'm ready," she giggled, cupping his cheek again. 

"Okay. Plagg, detransform me." The first thing he felt was the cool breeze of the night air cover him. Then, he heard a distinct gasp, and the absence of warmth as Marinette let go of him and took a step back. Adrien opened his eyes slowly, to see Marinette standing in front of him, hands cupped over her mouth, eyes wider than the moon staring at him wordlessly. "Marinette?" He asked, feeling his stomach plummet. Oh no. This was not a good sign. The worried smile fell from his face as he stared at her. "Are you-" 

Adrien fell backward into the railing of the balcony with the force of her hug. "Adrien!?" She cried. Burying her head into his neck. He blinked for a second and wrapped his arms around her as she pulled back, cupping his cheeks and staring into his eyes. "I, oh my God, I am going to fucking kick your dad's ass." 

Adrien blinked and then promptly burst into laughter, doubling over and trying to catch his breath. 

"Don't laugh at me! I'm going to do it!" She cried as angry as a puppy could get.

He stared up at her and wiped tears from his eyes. "I'm sure you will," he laughed and shook his head. Marinette pouted at him and then started laughing along with him. Adrien reached up and curled a lock of hair over her ear. She sighed and rested her chin on his chest, making a funny face at him. 

“I’ll leave you two be,” Plagg jutted in, making a fake vomiting sound before Tikki dragged him away with a quiet scolding.

The two of them giggled at the sight and watched the kwamis go before turning back to each other.

"I can't believe it's you," she said.

"Can't believe I'm a superhero and a fashion model?" He joked, raising his eyebrows.

"That I can believe, your face is too handsome for your own good," she snarked, squishing his blushing cheeks. 

"You think my face is handsome?" He tried not to sound as surprised as he did.

"You kidding? Your face is like, completely symmetrical, you've got big, pretty eyes, and a tiny, cute nose, and these baby cheeks," she laughed at his increasing redness. "Maybe you're more cute than handsome," she mused, squishing his cheeks again.

"I'll take what I can get," he laughed. Adrien hadn't felt this good in a while. Just to stand here, with her in his arms, laughing at each other, he felt like he was on cloud nine. If his cheeks weren't already sore from the sobbing they were now sore from smiling.

“I really can’t believe it,” She sighed breathlessly. “The two boys I love the most in the world turn out to be the same person?” She shook her head and laughed lightly. Adrien, however, was frozen in place.

“Love?” He whispered. What was- was she, was she serious?

She smiled even wider. “Yeah,” Marinette sighed. “I fell in love with you that day you gave me your umbrella.” He remembered that day. That day something blossomed in his chest that he tried to ignore for the longest while. “And then again, sometime later. I can’t put a date to it cause it was slow, but, your silly, cute, cat-face found its way into my heart somehow. No matter how much I tried to deny it.” She shook her head and smiled. “Maybe Chat noir was always there.” Marinette laughed softly, and in the glow of the night, he knew she couldn’t look more wonderful.

“You know when I fell for you, right?” He started softly, cupping her cheek in his hand. “That day you saved Paris and a million different times after that.” She rolled her eyes fondly. “I knew, I know I love you, but I never seemed to know why this shy girl in my class always caught my eye.” Her eyes grew wide and her mouth clamped shut. “I guess I know now,” he laughed. Marinette’s face was very red and she was doing a poor job of hiding it.

“You’re so stupid,” she groaned and rested her head back on his chest.

“But you looove me,” he beamed at her and choked back laughter. But even through the joke, his heart soared.

“I do,” she whined and looked up at him, trying to hold back a smile. Adrien brushed her bangs aside and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. She squeaked, which made him burst into laughter.

“Shut up!” She cried, laughing herself and hitting his arm playfully. He only laughed harder, doubling over and stumbling back onto the lawn chair behind him. Marinette folded her arms and pouted at him.

He stared up at her, grinning like an idiot. “You’re cute.”

“You’re cuter!” She whined, throwing her arms up in the air. Adrien burst out laughing again, hugging his sides. Marinette laughed with him, collapsing into the chair beside him. He took a deep breath and sighed, looking at her fondly. And she made a funny face that melted into a mirrored smile. He grasped her hands in his, pulling them up to his lips and kissing her knuckles.

“I think you’re the cutest.” Adrien grinned at her again.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I think you’re wrong, but I won’t fight you in something I know I’ll win.” Marinette closed her eyes and put a hand to her chest.

“Oh, confident are we?” Adrien raised his brows at her.

“Yes, very.” Marinette hooked their arms together and rested her head on his shoulder with a thump.

Adrien brushed a lock of her hair back and the whole world seemed to melt away around them. He didn’t think he’d forget what happened earlier today, maybe he never would, but with her in his arms, he felt like he would be okay, somehow. And that was good.

"Should we go inside?" Marinette asked, shifting her head to look at him.

"Uuh," She knocked him out of his thoughts. How long had he just been staring at her? "Oh, yeah, you gotta tell your parents..." he trailed off. A small prickle started in his gut. What if they-

"I know what you're thinking, Adrien," she frowned. "They may be opposed to you sleeping in my room, but they won't turn you away. If anything, they would probably force me to sleep in the guest bedroom since my mattress is more comfortable." She closed her eyes and put a hand to her heart.

He tried to ignore the notion of sleeping in her room as best he could. "Are you sure?" He asked in a small voice. Adrien knew Marinette's parents, but he saw how Tom could get when his daughter's feelings were in tow. 

"Absolutely, they'll love you, if they haven’t fallen for you already," she giggled, poking his nose again. "Come on, they'll be weirded out if you come out to my bedroom, so you can come through the front door with me." Marinette pulled him up and toward the opposite end of the balcony to a ladder reaching down the side of the building.

"Has that always been here?" Adrien asked, watching her take the first climb down.

"Yeah, I mean, it would be suspicious if Ladybug always left the same building, right?" She slid down the rest of the way and gestured for him to follow. He'd admit he'd never thought about that. Adrien followed her around to the front door of the house and into the dimly lit foyer.

 "Maman? Papa?" Marinette called into the bakery. He heard some shuffling and music coming from inside.

"Marinette?" It was Sabine's voice. Even with Marinette's reassurances, the pit in his stomach only grew. He felt like crawling into a dark hole."Dear, what are you doing coming in through the front?" He heard a light set of footsteps as Marinette’s mother made her way to the door.

"I, um," Marinette looked at him and back through to the bakery. Sabine walked in folding a towel in her hands and stopped dead when she saw him.

"Adrien?" She looked at him, even though she was confused he couldn't sense any malice in her tone. "Marinette, what are you two doing here?" 

"I, I have to talk to you and Papa. It's," Marinette glanced at him again, strength in her eyes, and grabbed his hand in hers. "It's important."

Sabine blinked for a moment and then nodded. "Oh, okay, well, we've got to finish up some things in the store, but go upstairs and make yourself at home, I'll go tell Tom." She smiled at them and gestured that they go upstairs. 

"Thanks, Maman!" Marinette called as she pulled him up the steps. 

"Tha- thank you, Mrs. Cheng!" Adrien stuttered and followed her up.

She smiled and waved at them until they reached the front door out of sight. 

Marinette took a deep breath and opened the door, glancing back. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" She ushered Adrien into the house and closed the door behind them. "Okay, do you want anything to drink?"

"Huh?" Adrien turned to her as she opened the fridge. 

"We have maybe 10 minutes to get our stories straight so they aren't suspicious. I was thinking that we go with, we both snuck out, ran into each other, talked about it, and then essentially the same thing happened where I invited you over." She explained this while wrestling with the lid to a carton of orange juice. "Or," she snapped it open with a pop and poured it into a glass, "we could do something else if you have another idea." She turned back to him and pulled out another cup from the cabinet.

Adrien stood and watched her, not really moving from where he'd stood when they walked in. He felt, out of place.

"Want anything?" She asked again.

"I, um…" he blinked at her. Trying to get his head to think straight.

"We have tea, cocoa, orange juice," she pointed to the carton behind her, "milk, some other Chinese fruit juice thing my mom got," as she explained she pulled out a green bottle with Mandarin on it. "This tastes good, I forget what the fruit is called, but it's really sweet." Marinette smiled at him. 

Adrien, well, Adrien was completely dumbfounded. Dumbfounded by normalcy with which she treated him, the ease with which she spoke, and just, well, her. Her, standing in her kitchen with a t-shirt and sweatpants, asking him if he wanted to drink a glass of juice. "I, I can try the Aloe juice." He recognized the characters on the bottle. 

"Okay, here," she poured the cup and handed it to him. "It's got some health benefits or something, I'm not too sure." She put both juices back in the fridge and bumped the door closed with her hip. 

"Thanks," Adrien said in a small voice, taking a sip of the drink. It was sweet.

Marinette drank the orange juice and walked over to the couch, pulling him by the hand to sit across from her. "Okay," she started, placing the cup down. "So, do you think we should go with my idea, or do you have one," she asked.

"I, I think it's fine. I'm just worried that your parents will be mad if you snuck out." He stared at his reflection in the cup of green juice.

"Oh Adrien," she reached out rested a hand on his arm, making him look up at her. "Don't worry about that, they'll probably take my phone away for the next week but it's nothing I can't handle. What's important is that we keep our identities safe. And that you're here and happy." She gave him another soft smile. Adrien put this hand over hers and smiled back. 

Some footsteps came from the stairs. Marinette jumped up and glanced between him and the door. "We'll go with my plan for the sake of time, alright?" 

Adrien blinked and nodded, then grabbed her hand before she left for the door. "Good luck." He squeezed her hand reassuringly. She smiled and squeezed it back, then left to the door. Adrien watched on as Marinette explained animatedly, but in a hushed voice, what had happened. He glanced back at his hands to avoid eye contact whenever either of her parents would glance over at him. Their faces turned from confused, to horrified to the same angry determination that Adrien had seen on Marinette’s face earlier that night. At least he knew it ran in the family. 

“Of course,” he heard Sabine say. “Adrien,” she called for him.

Adrien looked up from his hands and stood on wobbly knees. “Y-yes, Mrs. Cheng?” The pit in his stomach felt like a raging storm. He wanted to run.

“Please, dear, call me Sabine,” she laughed and waved him over to their circle. Marinette gave him a reassuring grin. “So, Marinette explained to us the gist of what happened,”

“We don’t have to talk about it if you’re uncomfortable,” Tom assured, putting a large hand on his shoulder.

“And we would be more than happy to let you stay with us.” Sabine rubbed his arm gently. Her smile was filled with such warmth. And suddenly, all the tension in his gut was washed away. It evaporated almost as quickly as this new feeling replaced it. Warmth.

“For as long as you are comfortable, or feel like.” Tom nodded. Even though Adrien couldn’t see the man’s mouth behind the mustache, he could tell he was smiling. Adrien felt his throat tighten. He tried to swallow it down.

“Of course, we would probably have to get in touch with, what was the lady’s name?” She turned to Marinette.

“Nathalie,” Marinette replied. She glanced between him and Sabine, fiddling with her hands.

“Right, but, feel free to stay here, as we said. We can focus on all of that stuff tomorrow.” Sabine waved her hand over her shoulder. “Does that sound good, Adrien?” she asked.

“I-” Adrien started, getting the words caught in his throat. He choked out a breathe. “Sorry,” he mumbled trying to get a handle of himself. But, it seemed all his willpower for holding it in was gone, so he just cried into his hands.

Sabine glanced quickly to her husband and back to Adrien. “Dear, don’t be sorry,” Sabine rubbed circles into his back. “Come here,” She opened her arms to him and gave him a tender smile. Adrien stumbled into the hug slowly as she patted his back. And even with her small size, she engulfed him in the hug.

“I’m, I’m sorry,” he mumbled through tears. What was he sorry for? For everything? His body shuddered in a hiccup. It was surprising that he was able to cry at all after the tears he’d shed earlier.

“It’s okay, son, you’re okay,” Tom said and bear-hugged the both of them, giving them a gentle squeeze. Adrien felt himself melt.

After a moment, Adrien felt one of the arms around him leave his shoulder. He rubbed the tears from his eyes to see Tom beckoning to Marinette, who was standing, holding a hand to her mouth, smiling and wiping stray tears from her eyes as well. She ran up to them and wrapped her arms around Adrien, holding him close. He held her with desperate hands, sobbing into her shoulder again. Waves of emotion came over him, and he felt so free to just cry, and so he did. He just let it all out. The pain in his chest was there, but for a different reason than before. Instead of hate, and sadness, it was warm. And full of, well, full of love. 

“Tha-thank you,” He cried. “Thank you.”

---

Bonus:

The only light in the room came from the moon through the window and the screen of his phone. 12:29 AM. How was he going to get through the night? Adrien’s body felt exhausted, but he couldn’t fall asleep. Maybe he was afraid of this being all a dream and getting thrown right back where he started. No, that’s a stupid thought. Adrien turned his phone off and placed it on the bedside table. He sighed and rolled over to see Plagg, snoring away on his pillow. He wasn’t alone. Especially now. 

Adrien pulled the shirt he was wearing over his nose and smelled the fruity-bakery sent he’d come to know as Marinette’s brand of shampoo, which was mixed into his hair, and the sent of the bakery, which lay underneath him. The t-shirt was something that Tom bought, accidentally shrunk in the wash, and gave to Marinette, who used it as a sleepshirt occasionally.

He closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep. It wasn’t quieter or noisier than his own room, but it still was very different. Adrien couldn’t even imagine being in his own bed.

He was barely asleep when he heard light footsteps creak down and around the living room. Adrien turned over to see if he could see who it was through the opened door. A head with messy hair peeked through. His eyes widened. Marinette put a finger to her lips and came to sit next to the bed wordlessly. Her hair stuck up in a funny way, but the moonlight reflected off her face perfectly. She smiled at him silently and put out her hand, resting it on the blanket in front of him. He took it slowly and held it, her fingers where warm. Marinette gave it a squeeze and then turned to look out the window.

It was a small, silent moment, but it assured him, that he was truly home.

;3 are you crying? im sad lmao, anyway, i did art for these, feel free to check it out!! I like drawing sad emotions so this was fun,,

Thank you for reading and liking and commenting, I read every comment even if I don't reply, THANK YOU!!! Y'all make me go doki doki