#it feels like my lungs r being crushed whenever i try

[tamagotchikgs]

i wish talking wasnt the hardest thing in the world

[friendsoup]

EVER SINCE I CAME ACROSS ONE OF YOUR MEDICINE POCKET X READER FIC I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOUR REQUESTS TO BE OPEN AND TO MY DELIGHT IT HAS BEEN OPEN!!!!!!!!!!! YIPPIEEE!!!!!!!!

im very excited sorry (i really REALLY love the way you write medpoc and like in general your writing is so yummy I would eat it for dinner lunch and breakfast.)

that aside is it possible to write about medpoc (lol) and voyager (if you can't write her, then kaalaa bauna?? i love space characters sm) x a reader who has a big old crush on them, but they can't actually confess to them? Fear of both losing a friendship and well, general feelings about confession and the aftermath of it (what ifs and such, maybe add insecurity to the touch)

separately btw, and please! happy endings, I can't take sad endings 💔💔

Non-Confessional Confessions

Recipe: Voyager x GN! Reader, Smitten!Reader, Reader is so fucking down bad, Longing, Voyager Confesses in her own way, romantic, Medicine Pocket x GN! Reader, Best friends to something?, playful banter, playful pushing/hitting, insecurity, on both ends WC: 1,755 Chef's Note: WAAAH I missed writing Medi so so so bad... And Voyager is such a fun character to write?! It certainly made for an interesting way of interacting :] I hope you enjoy, anon!

She’s ethereal.

Literal stardust made into the shape of a human being. Her eyes hold cosmos beyond your understanding, her lips keep secrets far beyond the earth’s knowledge. Her mind is like a sprawling galaxy, unknowable and unreachable. Unfathomable. Breathtaking. 

You were under her spell the moment you saw her. Who wouldn’t be? Though her mannerisms were strange, and she moved more like a puppet than a human, you found yourself drawn to the extraterrestrial. You kept her company whenever you could, hanging around like a moon in her gravitational pull. 

You never were one for classical music.

But now you find yourself craving it. There’s a deep ache in your heart whenever you picture her playing her violin. You want her music to fill your ears every moment of the day. Silence has become unbearable, as it only stirs a deep hunger in your chest. You want her to play for you. Only you.

You’re in love.

You have no other words to describe how you feel. Love seems most fitting, though it borders on obsession. She fills your head almost every waking hour. Everything you do, every breath you draw, finds it’s way back to her.

She sits on the couch, her violin perched on top her shoulder, her slender fingers holding the strings. She doesn’t look at you with those cosmic eyes. They instead meet the frets, as she fiddles with the instrument nervously. 

You look down at your hands, trying to keep them busy to stop your mind from racing. You sit a little ways from her, on a rocking chair. It creaks when you move, a horrible sound which shatters all tranquility brought by her music. Each time you shift in your seat, you cringe. It’s only a matter of time before she gets annoyed, and moves to go play somewhere else. Only a matter of time before she finds something better to do.

You haven’t thought about confessing. You don’t know if the Voyager is capable of romantic feelings, and you don’t want to pressure her into a relationship. Do aliens have romance? Does she know about such feelings? Could she feel the same?

You’re worried about hurting her. You’d never do anything to harm her intentionally, but what if she finds your feelings uncomfortable? What if she never sits with you like this again? What if she never plays for you?

An ache spreads through your chest. It makes it hard to breathe, your lungs squeezing out all the air they can. A question forms in your mind. It never hurts to be direct, does it? “Miss Voyager.” You begin. Her head perks up as she looks at you. Her expression calm, though her eyes remain unreadable. “Do you know about love? Romantic love, I mean.” You ask, timidly.

She stares at you for a moment. You’re afraid to breathe, afraid to ruin the moment. But then she rests her head back on her violin, and begins to play.

 Für Elise.

Your heart races. You feel the beginnings of a confession bubble in the back of your throat, but you choke it down. You don’t want to ruin what you have, you don’t want to hurt her. But watching her play her music, the concentration in her face, how elegantly her hands move. You fall into a trance, swimming in admiration.

Her eyes flutter open, and meet yours.

You feel like you’re about to cry. How could you ever delude yourself into thinking someone so perfect would ever like you? She’s so far above you, so far removed from everything you know. You would taint her, somehow. The grime from your earthly living would stain her otherwise perfect being.

You look away, and down at your hands.

“That was beautiful. I’m sorry for the weird question. I’ll go.” You take a shaky breath then stand. You need some time alone, to scream into your pillow, or stare longingly out a window. Anything to help you process this inferno raging in your chest. 

Just as you’re about to leave, you hear a quiet voice call out.

“Wait!” 

You blink, halting in your tracks.

“I wrote something… for you.” Voyager mutters. This is louder than you’ve ever heard her speak before, the strain on her voice is audible. You look at her, and notice that her posture has changed. She’s standing, fiddling awkwardly with her dress and staring at the floor. There’s a light pink on her cheeks. She looks just like you did a few seconds ago.

“...Can I hear it?” You ask, meekly.

Voyager raises her violin, and begins to play a new melody. You can see stars with every stroke of her bow, hear cosmos in every note she plays. The emotion is so strong in her playing that it hits you like a comet, burning you from the inside out. She sways as she plays, her face growing more pink with every passing moment. The melody reminds you of an early spring. And weaved in between, remnants from a song you’ve just heard.  

Für Elise.

Medicine Pocket

“You have that stupid look on your face again.” Medicine Pocket sneers, poking your cheek. “Have you been listening to me at all?” You haven’t been, in all honesty. You’ve been too focused on their face, and how passionately they spoke, and the intensity in their eyes. Your gaze lingered a bit too long on their lips as well. You noticed that they were chapped, and splitting in some places. You wondered, very briefly, if they’d take your chapstick if you offered it. “I have!” You lied, feigning irritation. “Yeah? What was I talking about?” They ask, lips curling up in a cat-like smile. 

That’s it. They’ve got you there. You feel your cheeks burn as you quickly look down to escape their eyes. They simply crackle in response, hooking an arm around you and pulling you in close. They smell like medicine and dog treats. Usually not a good combination, but it’s comforting now. And then they noogie your head, snapping you out of your lovesick daze. “Hey! Hey! Stop that!” You swat at their hands, pushing them away. They continue laughing, and you find yourself unable to hold back yourself. Giggles escape you as you punch Medi’s arm. “Maybe I’d listen if you actually had something interesting to say.” You tease. “Hm? Yeah?” Medi raises their voice an octave, tilting their head with their eyes wide. “And what kinds of things would interest you? Should I,” They raise a hand, striking a pose dramatically, “Sing your praises, your highness? I’m sure you’d like to hear me drone on about how beautiful, and special. You are.” You would like that, actually.

You stare for a second, trying to formulate a response. You’ve been friends with Medi for so long, it feels like there wasn’t a time before them. Yet these feelings were a new development. Or, perhaps, these feelings had always been there, but only now you had a name for them. Either way, you’ve found yourself growing slowly more and more in love with Medi. Medi, who’s never expressed interest in a partner. Medi, who acts disgusted when seeing any public displays of affection.

Medi, who likes to tease you every time you talk about a new crush with them.

You know, deep in your heart, that if you were to confess to them, they’d take it the wrong way. They’d feel uncomfortable and the friendship would be over. But it’s hard to keep those feelings in, when the two of you are sitting close like this. Knees barely touching, shoulders only a few inches apart. You can feel their heartbeat, or is that yours? You can’t tell. You feel like you’re floating, far far away from the sidewalk you’re sitting on. “Hello? Space case? What the hell is up with you?” Medi pushes you slightly, dragging you back down to earth. “I was just thinking about how lovely it’d be if you did sing my praise.” You snap back, a smirk growing on your face. You know that Medi hates complimenting other people, so there’s no way they’ll actually do it. 

Their cheeks flush, clearly taken off guard by your boldness. For a moment, you think you’ve gone too far. That they’re going to get up and walk away. You brace yourself for the worst, when they take a deep breath in. “Well, shit. Okay. If you’re begging for it that much.” They roll their eyes, and begin fidgeting with their shirt. “You’re fun to be around, for one.” They start nervously glancing between you and their hands. “I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t. And you’re also a smartass. Which doesn’t sound like a good thing, but it is. The world needs more smartasses. Keeps the dumbasses from thinking too highly of themselves.”

You chuckle, though it’s forced. Your breath is caught in your throat as they continue. “You’re nice. Sometimes to a stupid degree, but it evens out my asshole nature. You’re really cool. And, well, I guess you aren’t completely horrible to look at.” Medi finishes. “There, I’m done. Are you paying attention now?” “That last one wasn’t a compliment!” You argue. “It was just a weaker insult!” Medi freezes. Then they scowl. “Fine, fine, fine.” They sigh. “Looking at you is… not gross.” “Oh come on! You can do better than that!” You push, bumping your shoulder against theirs.

“Fine! I really really like looking at you! You have nice hair, and pretty eyes, and you smell really good too!” They spit out, before turning their head away. The two of you sit in silence for a moment.

Your head spins. Does Medi… like you? They wouldn’t say those things if they didn’t, right? Does that mean the two of you could possibly date? But what would dating even mean? The two of you already spend most of your free time together. You tell each other everything, you’re affectionate sometimes. You do most of the things that people do when they date, outside of kissing. But you don’t think Medi’s ready for affection like that, and neither are you. 

Does anything have to change? Can’t things just be the way they are now? Just with some of the tension eased? Does this have to have a name? “Do you want to go get ice cream?” You ask Medi. There’s silence for a moment.

“Yeah, sure. You’re paying though.” They shoot you a smile.

Perhaps things can stay this way for a little while more.

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 9

Masterlist

As always thank you to my beautiful bestie @acollectionofficsandshit you can also thank her for all the Max content in this chapter. Its a long one, enjoy!

Word Count: 9.6k

Recommended song: “Hate the way” by G-Easy and blackbear

The one thing that never failed to lift your spirits was your dad's homemade blueberry chocolate chip pancakes. Whenever you were upset as a kid, whether it be your team losing a sporting event, your high-school boyfriend dumping you for the head cheerleader, or getting rejected from an ivy league college you never expected to get into in the first place, his pancakes had been there to cushion the fall. Clever as he was, he always messed them up in some insignificant way like leaving off the whipped cream and hiding the container so you were forced to talk to him in order to remedy it. Then he would crack some stupid joke or cheesy pun that would just barely have the ghost of a smile curling your lips.

Blueberry chocolate chip pancakes were no match for the heartbreak of losing your best friend.

The morning after, you only trudge to the kitchen when your stomach's demands to be fed become too loud to ignore. A steaming pile of fluffy pancakes sits at your usual spot, no syrup in sight. You don't have the energy to find your dad and ask where he's hidden it, instead picking at them. You knew the flavor should be fruity and sweet but every bite tastes like ash. One pancake is all you can manage before nausea roils, threatening to make your meager brunch resurface. 

"Some is better than none," Ben murmurs behind you and you drop your chin in the barest of nods. "We can save the rest and you can warm them up later."

"Thanks," you mumble when he takes your plate. You pull your blanket tight around your shoulders as your gaze turns to the window while your brother washes your dishes, wishing for all the world that you could make your uncooperative limbs move and help him but the mental effort it requires is too taxing. Instead you stay curled up on the chair, the noises of the house waking up around you a dull buzz in your ears. At some point your mother kisses your head and hustles out the door to work, her husband close behind. Ben is the last to leave and is reluctant to do so.

"Promise you'll text me if you need me," he says. "Mom already gave me permission to cut class after trigonometry."

"Sure." You both know it's a lie and a bad one at that. Your voice is dull and flat, completely void of emotion. 

"Mom said she's coming home early anyway,” he tries. “Something about overstaffing at the greenhouse."

"Okay."

The mechanical spooling of the garage door tells you he's finally gone. Your elbows slide forward until your head rests on the table, unable to hold it up any longer.

Every fiber of your being yearns for him, to hear the distinct r's and flowery lilt of his accent as he comforts you through the heartbreak, always knowing exactly what to say. It was second nature to call one another when either of you had had a bad day or a good day or just a normal day - you'd talked so often that last year you had convinced your parents to add international minutes to your phone plan. 

Your fingers itch to dial the number you had long since memorized, knowing it would ring no more than twice before he picked up. He never let it go to voicemail unless he absolutely couldn't avoid it and you had a hunch he was waiting for your call.

Despite knowing better, you scroll through the messages on your phone. Love was evident in each witty remark and wish goodnight, pulling at your heartstrings. Your finger hovers over the delete conversation button, and after a minute of debate, you can't bring yourself to do it. You would allow yourself one reprieve to look back on and remember the good.

It would be so much easier if he had given you a reason to hate him. If he'd cheated or intentionally led the media to your house, hating him would be easy. You wouldn't have to admit that you still loved him because his betrayal would have yanked out the newly blooming bud of love you nurtured and crushed the fragile petals. Instead, you were left knowing that it had been your choice to inflict damage in him. You had no right to seek comfort in his arms or even ask how he was doing. You deserved to be miserable for causing him to feel the same way. 

Yuki is the first to check in on you. You don’t know what he expects; you lie through your teeth when you tell him you were fine.

The press is asking me for my thoughts. No idea why. I told them not to stick their noses where they don't belong.

At least someone had the guts to stand up to those bloodsuckers. Yuki was the last person you'd suspect to do so, but the scrappy twenty-something continued to surprise you.

Thanks, you type back. How is he?

You hesitate. You didn't really want to know the answer. Pierre was devastated and just as broken as you are. You delete the last part and opt to refrain from subjecting yourself to biting off more than you could chew.

I'm here if you need me, is Yuki's reply.

Charles, Daniel, and his newly promoted girlfriend were the next ones to text you, all offering varying degrees of support. Daniel's friend was the one that offered to sucker punch anyone that came near you without your permission, and actually dragged a single huff of laughter from your aching lungs.

I'm good thanks. But if I need a bodyguard you'll be first on the list.

Just because Daniel can lift me with one arm doesn't mean I'm not punchy!

I believe you.

Spent, you set your phone down and retreat under the down comforter. The bright pink clashed with your earthy decor, but at least the old blanket didn't smell like Pierre. Your mother had taken it upon herself to erase all trace of him from your room when she had managed to coax you into a shower, and the half hour you had spent letting the scalding water run over your skin had given her plenty of time to do so. The absence of him hurts almost as much as the trace of cedar you know you're imagining when you breathe deep.

It has to be impossible for so much agony to be contained in your body. No matter how much you try, the tears won't stop flowing because Pierre's crushed expression had taken up residence at the forefront of your consciousness. 

It didn't help that so many of your recent memories were touched by his presence. Getting into university served to remind you of the ecstatic call you'd gotten after his race that Sunday, voice strained with a mix of excitement for you and the disappointment of his race ending crash on the opening lap. Even something as simple as staring at the saggy bean bag chair in the corner brought back the memory of the countless times he had lounged there, sprawled out like he owned it.

Max's text brings you briefly back to reality.

You doing okay? Dan told me what happened.

No, was all you say back. Within a minute, Max's face occupies your screen. You sigh but accept the call, laying the phone on the pillow.

"I don't feel like talking, Max."

"That bad huh?" He asks, concern lacing his usually chipper voice.

"Yeah. That bad." As if that summed up getting your heart torn to shreds.

He's uncharacteristically quiet for a beat. "Wanna hear about Vic's day? She had some crazy clients at her salon- it'll take your mind off it."

"I guess," you say, utterly nonplussed. You could care less if he kept talking or not, you wouldn't be paying attention. He prattles on for a few minutes, seemingly unaffected by your silence as his words pass through one ear and out the other.

"Told you it was crazy," he says finally, your cue to respond. You hum noncommittally and Max just sighs.

"Look, I don't know how I can help you unless you come here. I know you have a flight booked- do you still wanna come to the gala? My date's been stolen so I'm in need of one."

"Who stole your-"

The realization hits you before you can finish. Pierre. Pierre stole Max's sister and left him without a date. Something about his willingness to replace you so quickly rubs you the wrong way. It shouldn't have been so easy for him to find someone new; he should be hurting just as much as you. Fundamentally, you knew nothing would happen between Pierre and Victoria. She wouldn't go for him out of respect for both of you and you were thankful in the knowledge that it was completely platonic. Still, it was like rubbing salt in a wound. 

"You know what? I'll go." It was the most you'd said all day, your throat scratchy with disuse. Max whoops on the other line and you could almost see him punching the air in victory.

"Great! When's your flight get in? I'll bring the Acura and pick you up." 

You put him on speaker and login to the airlines website to punch in the flight number. Last night you'd debated canceling the flight that Pierre had paid for, determined to stay home and be miserable. Looking back you were glad you'd trusted your gut and left the reservation untouched. If he could find someone else to attend the gala with, so could you. "I land in Nice at noon on Friday. It'll be a short flight, I can text you when we take off."

"Sounds good. I'll set up the spare room for you. Victoria is staying here too, I'm sure she would love to help you get ready and do whatever it is girls do before fancy events."

"Hey, Max?"

"Whats up?"

You trace patterns through the condensation left by the glass on your nightstand. "Thank you. For understanding."

"That's what friends are for," he assures you. "Is there anything you wanna talk about now? Or are you planning to wait until you're here?"

"Ben's been keeping an eye on me. I'm okay for now." Better now that you had something to look forward to.

"All you have to do is call," he promises. "I'll listen, I don't have anything going on this week besides streaming."

You latch on to the small redirection and run with it. "You and the twitch quartet?"

"They've been kind enough to allow me to join them on the sim this week, yeah."

"I'll try to catch a race. No promises though." 

"See you Friday. Try to contain your excitement."

Your lips twitch upward. "Bye Max."

**********

The rest of the week was more of the same. You stayed home and your family dealt with the swarms of people that still gathered on the lawn each morning not so patiently waiting for you to tell your side of the story. You had decided that the best course of action was to keep your mouth shut and let them figure out for themselves that there was no longer a story to report thanks to the wedge they had driven in your relationship.

By the time Ben drives you to the airport Friday the buzz has died down. You hug your brother tight before checking in for the flight and texting Max. His response is immediate, letting you know he's excited to see you.

You wish you could return the sentiment. You wanted to see your friend, sure, but you were beginning to dread the upcoming gala. Max would be your crutch and you knew he was okay with that, but it still felt wrong. 

Unlike your brother, Max was waiting at the curb when you arrived in Nice. A nondescript cap was perched on his head, the oversized sunglasses he wore hiding his eyes from passersby. His gleaming orange peel of a car attracted more attention than he did for once, people stopping to ogle the Acura as they came and went.

"Hey you," Max greets, a broad grin causing his trademark dimple to appear as he wraps you in a rare hug. You cling to him, throat going tight at the intimacy of it. Max wasn't a physical person by any stretch; if he was hugging you this tightly it meant he knew how broken you were.

He waited for you to break contact first, giving you all the time you need. You sniff and wipe the single tear that had somehow escaped and laugh lightly.

"Hey," you say, voice scratchy. "Thanks for picking me up." 

He waves a hand, brushing it off. "Vic wanted to come but she changed her mind when I told her I was driving."

"Probably a smart choice," you observe, letting him pop the trunk- which was in the front of the car, since the Acura NSX was a mid-engined beast of a Japanese supercar- "and considering your choice of car, she wouldn't have fit anyway."

"This is true." He starts the engine, the roar of which makes a poor old woman a few yards away drop her purse.

The drive back is near silent, broken only by Max's occasional quips about a landmark or an observation about someone's driving. It was impossible for any driver to turn off the analytical part of their brain, their Formula 1 habits crossing into their daily lives. 

When Max parks at the curb outside his apartment, you move to open the door but he hits the lock button. You glance over your shoulder at him and quirk a brow.

"Am I your prisoner?"

"Are you gonna talk about what happened?"

Sighing, you sink back into the seat. The way the bolstering hugs your sides almost makes you believe you could fade into it if you try hard enough. "I wasn't really planning on it."

It had only been a handful of days since you had broken it off, the wound still leaking fresh blood when you poked at it. It refused to scab over or give you any kind of reprieve from the torture.

"You know you'll have to face him tomorrow at some point. He'll want to talk to you."

"That's why I'm going with you. You won't have a problem telling him to leave me alone."

Max sighs. "Yeah, I suppose. If that's what you think is best."

The trudge up the stairs and subsequent silent elevator ride allows your thoughts to wander to Victoria. It wasn't her fault that Pierre had asked her to come with him after you'd canceled, after all she was already planning on going and the late notice meant it was likely no one else could make it, but it didn't stop the pang of jealousy that rocketed through you each time you ruminate on it.

It didn't help when she wrapped you in a hug the moment she saw you and whispered an apology in your ear, like she knew she'd done something wrong. Tears spring to your eyes again and Victoria shoots Max a leave us alone look.

"Uh, I'm gonna hop on the sim. Help yourself to whatever is in the fridge if you're hungry."

"Thanks Max." Your eyes are pinned to a smudge of dirt on the wood floor, safely out of range of anything triggering. Keeping it together was more of a struggle than you'd expected.

"I hope you don't hate me," Victoria starts genuine concern lacing the words. "It was just easiest-"

"I know," you cut in. "And I don't." Your smile is tight, not quite hitting home as she returns it.

"Well then. Let's figure out how we're gonna do your hair tomorrow, shall we?"

**********

The dress was a single, simple piece of fabric, spun of sunset orange and free of any bells or whistles. The feather light chiffon hugged every supple curve through your hips until flaring out slightly at the bottom just enough to allow you range of motion. The deep vee of the neckline prominently displayed your cleavage, toeing the line between attention grabbing and scandal starting and leaving little to the imagination. The back dropped low, leaving the elegant curve of your spine free to be kissed by the salty Mediterranean breeze.

The dress is nothing special compared to the thousand dollar pieces that the other boy's dates would be wearing, but you didn't have the money- or the will- to find something new. It by no means broke the bank when you picked it up from the second hand store last year, but it looked the part. It had been a showstopper at the spring formal you'd originally worn it to and judging by Max's reaction, it still was.

He let out a low whistle when you stepped into the living room. "I'm sorry, did you pick that out with me in mind?" He laughs and despite yourself, heat rises to your cheeks. You hated being the center of attention, even among friends. "It's the perfect shade of orange to match my tie. I swear I didn't plan it that way!"

"I know you didn't." You give him a forced smile, praying he doesn't call you out on it. The dress you wore hadn't been your first choice. The one you originally planned to wear still sat in your closet at home collecting dust. It had been the perfect shade of blue to compliment Pierre's sky eyes, but it didn't match Max's deeper ocean blue. So at home it had stayed, and you had chosen the orange one because it made the necklace at your throat pop.

Your fingers engulf the stone before you can stop yourself, as they always do when your thoughts wander to him. Him, because you could scarcely think his name before your heart wretches at the reminder of what you'd lost. Flashes of bright smiles and soft kisses filter through your mind, making you lock up. You swear you can feel the ghost of plush lips to your throat and the scrape of callouses over the curve of your spine. Your eyes fall shut, desperate to get lost in the idea of him like you used to.

"You good?"

Max's quiet words startle you back into the present. No, you were in no way shape or form good, but you had no choice to fall back on the familiar mask of humor to cover up your inner turmoil.

"The real question is are you?" You smirk and look him over. The Red Bull navy suit strains over his broad shoulders, suggesting he had put on muscle since the last time he'd been forced into it. "You look stiff as a board in that tux."

"I feel so awkward." He straightens the suit coat and absentmindedly lifts a hand to tousle his hair. You grab his wrist just in time to keep him from ruining his sister's hard work and shoot him a chiding look. He grins sheepishly and lowers his hand.

"Vic would kill me if you got to the gala looking like you got run over." 

"That's a good point." He offers you his arm and you accept the lifeline he unwittingly offers you. "But I refuse to leave the windows up on this beautiful night, so we'll test how well it'll hold."

You quirk an eyebrow at him. "You're driving us there?"

"Well duh. I always drive when I'm at home."

You glance sidelong at the glaringly orange Acura parked at the curb a few floors below. Your dress would blend right in with the paint, but perhaps that was a good thing. It would provide that much more of a shock factor when you arrived and stepped out.

"Just don't crash out on the hairpin," you tease half heartedly. 

He rolls his eyes. "At least it's just the two of us so I don't have to call an uber. Vic's getting picked up by-'' Max cuts himself off and gives you an apologetic smile.

"You can say his name," you whisper, eyes trained on the tile of the hallway as you walk. "It's not like he's gone."

"Getting picked up by... Pierre," Max tries, carefully monitoring his neutral tone. God, you thought you could handle it but you can't, stumbling over your own feet with only Max's grip on your arm to catch you.

He'd dance with Vic tonight, and probably countless other women, his hands drifting over their bodies like they'd done on yours only days ago. You'd be forced to watch from the sidelines and make small talk that no one would remember come morning, utterly unable to do anything about it. At least Daniel’s girlfriend would be there to be the voice of reason, if you could peel her away from Daniel long enough to speak with her for any length of time.

Max was uncharacteristically quiet on the ride to the venue, leaving you to study the city as he drove. Few yachts were left in the harbor as the sun was swallowed by the sea, the owners undoubtedly set sail for a weekend getaway. Your gaze involuntarily searched for the slip that held Charles' Ferrari red speedboat that you'd visited countless times with Pierre. The eyesore was hard to miss when surrounded by its monotone brethren, memories flooding back in droves at the sight of it.

Sighing, you turn away to glimpse what you can of the city through the ridiculously tiny sliver of windshield. How anyone could confidently drive the Acura while having so little field of vision was beyond you. It was probably second nature to Max, who weaves through the narrow streets with practiced ease and barely lets off the gas through the corners. 

The city of Monaco rarely slept, and tonight was no different. Soft yellow fluorescent glow seeps from high rise balconies, the occupants soaking up the last dregs of sunlight before heading out to the casinos and clubs. People spilled out of cafes onto the sidewalks, their laughter lingering on the breeze as you speed past.

The list of people you trust enough to get in the car with and let them drive with such intensity is short: Max and Pierre. Not even Daniel made the final cut, not when his then not-girlfriend had recounted the tale of him losing the rear of his McLaren 570s at a track day and nearly sending them into the wall. According to her, he'd been too busy ogling her to keep his full attention on the road, but it was enough for you to question his judgement at times.

If you close your eyes, you could pretend it was someone else next to you, cutting through the gears like a hot knife through butter and coaxing every inch of performance out of the car that he could with the light traffic. You draw a surf-scented breath deep, lungs aching with the effort. 

Max joins the queue of cars waiting to park outside the venue, your attention trained on the guests stepping out of cars and climbing the wide set of marble steps leading to the sleek glass building. The modern structure is slightly out of place among the Roman-esque buildings surrounding it but the air of importance it exudes overrules any who dare say it doesn't belong.

"I can't tell you how glad I am that there's an open bar," Max remarks, hanging his head out the window to wave at someone. "It makes these events so much easier."

"You're telling me," you mumble, searching involuntarily for a familiar head of dusty blond hair in the droves of people arriving. Instead of sight, it's the unforgettable rumble of his Civic Type R's exhaust that alerts you to his arrival. Your head whips around, eyes eating up the pearl white paint of Pierre's favored car as it slides in behind you. You silently thank whatever deity is listening that his windshield is tinted, protecting you from seeing the smirk you are certain is playing on his lips.

Once upon a time, the cockpit of that car had been your favorite place in the world. You'd spent countless hours inside it eating shitty gas station cuisine and singing along to the radio at the top of your lungs as Pierre drove you to whatever adventure he had planned for the day. 

Max waves at your- his friend, you remind yourself sharply- and revs his Acura in response. He leaves the keys with the valet, picking up on the tension in your shoulders as the white car parks behind you. Max tugs your arm in attempt to turn you away, but your feet are rooted to the spot. 

“I see you found another date-” The flash of a grin on Pierre's face as he steps out is immediately dashed when he notices you on Max's arm.

If looks could kill, Max would keel over then and there. A muscle in Pierre's jaw flutters as he takes in the sight of the two of you together, your hand on the Dutchman's forearm and your matching attire looking for all the world as if it was purposefully coordinated. 

Max lifts his chin, spine going straight under Pierre's threatening glare. “Her airfare was already paid for and she already had the dress. Someone had to take her.”

Your stomach sinks; the last thing you wanted to do was become a point of contention between the two boys, but you refused to apologize for at least attempting to enjoy yourself. 

Pierre doesn't speak again, only nods to Max and pointedly avoids your stare. He tosses the keys to the smart-dressed kid serving as his valet, coming around to open Victoria's door. With his back turned to you, you take a moment to study the crisp white suit he's chosen for tonight. You had always told him black wasn't his color and he seemed to have taken it to heart. White was what you loved seeing him in, and the tight cut brought back memories of a different type of suit in an entirely different city only a few weeks ago. You'd peeled him out of that Alpha Tauri race suit the moment he made it to the trailer, eager to worship him after his podium. You'd be lying if you said it hasn't been the best sex of your life.

"Come on," Max urges, placing a chaste hand on your upper back and turning you around. He leads you up the stairs, his comforting touch never leaving your skin for a moment. The callouses were all wrong, the fingers too broad to be who you wanted it to be, and yet you couldn't help but imagine it was Pierre leading you up, stopping to smile for the few cameras scattered around.

Flashes spot your vision as you pull your face into an expression of excitement. Max murmurs something in your ear that you think is encouragement but the din of reporters is too deafening to be sure.

"How come you aren't with Pierre?"

The shouted question comes from an unknown assailant but it strikes you like a physical blow. You freeze, mouth going dry as you search for a suitable excuse. Max grants you the space of a single heartbeat to respond before he does so on your behalf.

"How about you mind your own damn business and worry about your cheating wife?"

The man who had bombarded you goes slack jawed, Max's wild guess clearly somehow hitting him just as hard as he had hit you.

"Keep walking," he urges you, leading you through the blinding sea of flashing lights. When you hear the same question directed at Pierre, his flippant laugh grates on your nerves.  

You don't have it in you to appreciate the grand architecture of the entrance hall, too busy trying to keep your breathing in check. Max steers you off to the side and places his hands on your shoulders.

"Look at me," he demands, and you drag your eyes up to his face. "Breathe. He's hurting just as bad as you, only difference is he's better at hiding it. Just enjoy the night okay? I'll grab you a drink and we can find Daniel and his friend and you two can catch up."

You nod, placing a hand on your throat. The delicate chain of the necklace is a vice around your neck, the reminder of him pulling it tight. Your pulse hammers beneath your fingers and you focus on it until it slows. "Get me whatever you're having."

Max disappears in the crowd, and you take a seat at the bench tucked in the corner. No one pays you any heed as they walk past, entranced by the elegant decor and fragrant florals. Your head falls forward to rest in your hands and you struggle to take deep, calming breaths.

Pierre was here. Inhale.

He looked happy. Exhale.

He was getting by. Inhale.

You could get by, too. Exhale.

Renewed, you glance up in time to find Max standing before you with a drink of dark liquid adorned with maraschino cherries in each hand. He extends one glass to you and you don't bother to question what it is before swallowing half in one go. "Better?"

"Much." You stand and brush out the wrinkles in your dress. "Where are we sitting?"

"Er, about that," Max starts, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "They put two teams at each table. We're at the Red Bull Alpha Tauri table."

"I see." You take another deep, steadying breath, letting the anxiety ebbing in your veins fade out with the exhale. It was times like this that you channeled Daniel a bit. It sounded silly and you would never admit it, but the slogans on his helmets worked if you focused on them hard enough. All good, all ways.

If Pierre could get through tonight, so could you.

“I can try to see if I can switch tables-”

"It's fine," you say and down the rest of the drink. “I can handle it.”

Max shifts on his feet, his discomfort something you rarely see from him. He usually excelled at keeping a straight face in uncomfortable situations but it seems that your unease rubbed off on him. “We should get going then, dinner will be served any minute.”

You once again take the arm he offers you, the liquor in your veins already granting you false courage. “We would have time to mingle if you hadn’t taken the scenic route.”

“It was nice out,” he protests, and pulls you to a halt when he spots Daniel across the hall. His girlfriend waves at you with a sad smile. She gestures between the two of you to indicate that you’ll talk later before Daniel pulls her towards the McLaren table. That boy was punctual to a fault and would be caught dead before he was late to anything.

Thankfully, the two of you arrive before Victoria and her date and are able to secure seats that ensure there’s a buffer between you. By some small miracle Christian Horner and his wife were absent and instead a few engineers and their significant others sat at the packed table. Max greets Gianpiero while you take your seat, happy to observe.

“Hey!”

You twist in time to see Yuki’s short frame emerge from the crowd and point to the empty seat to your right. “This one taken?”

You shake your head, standing to give him a quick hug. “How are you doing? Where’s your date?”

“Ah, she couldn’t make it. Had some family stuff to take care of. You look great, by the way.”

You dip your chin in thanks, unsure how else to respond. He was in a white suit that you were sure would wind up stained five minutes into dinner. “Did they mandate that you wear white?”

He shakes his head with a rueful smile. “Honestly, it’s the only one I own. I haven't been to enough events to build up my closet yet."

"Well I think it's…"

You spot Pierre before he sees you. His brow is slightly creased as he hunts for the correct table using the same focused determination as when driving his Alpha. For a split second, he meets your gaze. The cacophony of the event fades to background noise and suddenly it's just the two of you and you damn near lift your hand in a wave. You're positive he can see your heart beating out of your chest like in an old cartoon as you curl your fingers into a fist in your lap. Your restraint proves fatal, the floor falling out from beneath your feet when he drops your stare. This was your new normal, you remind yourself. Stolen glances were all you would get.

"I can move," Yuki says, starting to rise. You grip his wrist, holding him in place.

"Please don't." The only other open seats were across the table, and at least then you didn't have to worry about brushing elbows with him all night long.

Yuki nods, slowly settling back in. Max finally takes his seat after giving your shoulder a supportive squeeze.

"You don't have to say anything to him," he reminds you, barely audible over the scrape of chairs and various chatter.

You find anywhere else to look as Pierre pulls out Vic's chair for her and makes his rounds to greet everyone. Daniel and his girlfriend are seated a few tables away and you distract yourself by attempting to read their lips. You manage a few minutes of tenuous peace, catching snippets of Daniel's cheesy jokes and her disapproving, yet flirty, responses.

"Damn, we clean up well, huh?"

You squeeze your eyes shut at the sound of home. His words are honey and you lap them up like you'd never tasted anything sweeter. They weren't even directed at you and yet somehow you twist them to fit your narrative.

Pierre stands at the bottom of the stairs like a chaste high school prom date patiently waiting for your grand entrance. He checks his watch and rakes a hand through his messy hair. You stifle your laugh with a hand, amused by his unnecessary nervous energy.

Taking mercy on him, you clear your throat. His gaze snaps up to you, mouth falling open. You take your time gathering the orange fabric of your dress and descending the stairs, savoring the way he eats you up. He was resplendent in his crisp white tuxedo and you had half a mind to make him late for the gala and strip him out of it then and there and devour him.

Your heels clack on the marble floor of his entirely too fancy apartment and you pause to do a little spin for him, earning you an appreciative whistle for your trouble. A laugh bubbles out of you and you place your hands on his shoulders. His own settle on your waist to pull you flush against him, his body heat soaking through the thin fabric of your dress to warm your core.

"Damn, we clean up well, huh?"

You start when knuckles graze the back of your bare neck. The touch is there and gone but you know immediately that it's Pierre. It's slight enough to be brushed off as accidental to anyone else, but nothing was accidental with Pierre. The barely there contact conveys more than any words ever could. 

He still loved you. You looked stunning. He wishes you were still his so he could prove it to you. All this and so much more contained in a half second brush of his skin to yours.

It all comes back to you in a rush, the emotion you'd so carefully tucked away in a locked box in the back of your mind finally set free. His touch ignites any other thought in your mind that isn't him, burning it away until it's ashes on the wind. 

Despite your better judgement, you lean into him, giving him permission to unravel you. This time you sigh when his fingers ghost over your skin, electricity sparking in their wake. You didn't care who might be watching; the tiny touches were slowly repairing your shattered heart. Your traitorous mind replaces his fingers with the brush of his lips to your nape, imagining the heat as he slides the strap of your dress off your shoulder, lips moving to follow.

You bite your lip to stifle a groan when his heat is withdrawn, leaving you feeling inexplicably naked. You open your eyes to find Victoria's pitying stare paired with an apologetic smile. Max nudges you with his elbow, and you realize someone has addressed you.

"Um, what?"

"I said I like how you guys coordinated outfits," Pierre repeats and openly prods your shoulder. "Obviously Max chose the color."

His tone is playful, but his words are clipped in a way only you understand. Craning your neck, you twist to look up at him. His eyes are cloudy and his smile doesn't reach them, more for show than anything else. "It was an accident."

"Doesn't look that way."

Your retort is ready on your tongue but he doesn't give you a chance to reply before retreating to his seat. His ability to act as if nothing has changed astounds you, as your head is still reeling from the pinpricks of his skin on yours. Instead of being rendered speechless, he strikes up a conversation with Yuki about the Alpha's performance, leaving out the confidential details but giving enough away that it surprises you.

The sheer fact that he can so easily switch off whatever feelings he harbors is unfair. The sensation of his fingers on your neck still lingers and it's all you can do to keep from stepping around the table and slotting yourself between his legs like you had in that bar in London. Your nails bite into your palms, listening in if only for his voice to wash over you and calm your racing heart.

When he mentions the rake angle, you know it's just to mislead anyone who might be eavesdropping. He'd told you the exact angle in the past, and it certainly was not one degree, and it did not cause the level of understeer he was describing.

"The understeer comes from improper tire selection," you blurt. "And driver error."

All eyes turn to you and you straighten. You knew enough about the construction of a Formula 1 car to be positive your assessment was correct. You were almost as certain that he'd said it to force you into speaking to him whether you liked it or not.

"What was that?"

If Pierre could torment you with his subtle touches, you could do the same and call him out when he was wrong.

"Driver error caused the rear end to slide out around that turn in Japan, not the rake angle. That's got nothing to do with it. Your tires were blistered because of you taking an imperfect racing line and they were old. You miscalculated the level of traction they'd give you."

Why no one else had pointed it out was beyond you.

"So you're an engineer now?" Pierre challenges, crossing his arms. Something about the arrogance radiating from him rubbed you the wrong way. You let all the emotion of the past few days surface and add fuel to the fire.

"No, but I've learned enough to see through the bullshit drivers spin to mislead other teams."

Max murmurs your name in warning but your frustration is boiling over. He replaced you tonight, didn't even pause to consider going alone and instead choosing to take Victoria. Sure, it had been your fault that he was dateless, but that didn't give him the right to hurt you too. He knew it would destroy you to see him with anyone else even if it was completely platonic, but he did it anyway.

"Why don't you tell me where I should brake on turn ten since you're an expert all of a sudden?" Victoria lays a hand on his arm but he yanks it out of her grip. "What crack in the pavement? Or is it a mark on the barrier? Drive one lap in my car and then you can tell me how to drive."

It wasn't your analysis that had upset him. You'd done so plenty of times and he had always taken your criticism with an open mind, using it to tweak his driving style to improve his lap time or turn it into a teaching experience so you could learn. No, judging by the way his eyes are lined with silver that he fights to blink away, it's your betrayal that upsets him and rightfully so. You glance around the table but no one is willing to meet your eyes save for Max, who angles his head as if to say fight for it.

But you can't. It's monumentally easier to let Pierre win and sweep it under the rug than to address the deeper issue. "I was trying to help," you say lamely, picking at the salad in front of you.

"You don't get to do that anymore."

The venomous words hit like knives, knocking the breath out of you. Your mouth hangs open like a fish gasping for air but any reply you think up dies on your tongue.

As the music fades out and a man climbs up onto the stage, Pierre gets up and leaves. You track his progress as he weaves through tables, noting Daniel reaching for him as he passes. You flinch when the balcony door slams behind him, an astonished murmur rocking through the crowd.

"You should probably talk to him," Max whispers.

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak. You had no idea what you would say. 'Sorry' was insignificant and 'I love you' would be cruel when the barest of thought regarding how the media treated you made your stomach churn. 

Max pulls his phone out under the table and you think you see Charles' name on the screen. Good; someone had to make sure Pierre didn't do anything he would regret in the morning and if it wasn't you, Charles was the next best chaperone. A minute later, the Ferrari driver leaves his seat too, exiting the same way as Pierre. 

Focusing on what's said on stage proves fruitless. Try as you might, your attention is trained on the side door Pierre had disappeared through, praying he returns despite knowing it would mean more barbed words hurled at you. Neither he nor Charles return at any point during the presentation. His absence was quickly becoming a gaping black hole, swallowing up any semblance of sanity you had managed to gather in preparation for tonight.

"Try to have some fun," Max says, nudging you with an elbow. "As soon as this guy shuts up I’ll get us some more drinks and then we can eat and get out on the dance floor and forget about everything, yeah?"

You nod. You already feel the buzz of the first drink, and one or two more would push you thoroughly over the edge into blissful forgetfulness. "I don't wanna be sad anymore."

**********

He didn't know where he was going. All he knew was that he had to get away from you before he said something that would tear whatever hope he held of repairing what was between you to ribbons. He registers Daniel's low, "Gas, you good?" as he breezes past, but doesn't pause to answer. His sights are locked on the wide, carved oak doors that lead to fresh air.

The breath whooshes out of him when he flings open the balcony doors. They slam behind him and he winces. Chalk that up as something else for Helmut to pick him apart for on Monday.

Pierre rakes a trembling hand through his hair and rests his elbows on the railing, sucking in lungfuls of air like he'd just surfaced from a dive in the harbor. 

When you'd agreed to come to the gala with him, he had been overjoyed. You hadn't made it to the winter gala earlier this year due to a last minute exam and he had sulked the entire night. He still had the place card embossed with your name in the fishbowl by his door, the sizable container nearly overflowing with memories of you. Everything from forgotten earrings to plastic hotel key cards filled the bowl and it was a bright reminder of your adventures together. His plan had been to add another place card to the mix after tonight but after what he'd just said to you, he'd rather forget today ever happened. 

He fucking hurt. Everything just hurt, from the shirt collar scratching at his neck to the bone deep ache that had started when he laid eyes on you on those steps, arm locked with Max's. You'd stolen the words from his mouth, the jab he'd planned to toss at Max dying at the sight of you. 

He hadn't expected you to come tonight. Despite anyone's objections, he'd been fully prepared to get completely shit faced to the point that the ghost of your skin no longer haunted his fingertips and your voice no longer sang in his head. But seeing your damned face had shattered the false reality he had constructed, the one where you never broke him and left him scrambling to piece himself back together.

The universe had dealt him another low blow when he discovered Red Bull and Alpha Tauri would be at the same table and he'd be forced to endure your presence at arms length, close enough to touch but absolutely not allowed to do so. It was his own personal hell, constructed solely to punish him for whatever transgressions he'd made in his life.

And that fucking dress. 

The orange painted the aquamarine charm at the hollow of your throat in sharp relief, showing it off like he somehow still owned you. If you had arrived with him, he would have already led you back to the Civic and bunched that damned dress up past your hips to drag his favorite sounds from you with his tongue. If he could just get you alone, he's sure it wouldn't take more than a single touch to have you crashing into him and begging for more.

Seeing you with Max tonight paints an entirely different picture.

It's Max he sees tearing off the dress at the end of the night when you get back to his apartment. Max's hands slide over your hips and you laugh, walking back so you can keep your lips on his as he slams the door shut behind you. You dip your head back when he presses you to the wall, Max unfaltering as his lips and teeth trace the curve of your exposed throat and he slips the straps of the matching dress of your shoulders to let it pool at your feet. Max's name breezes past your lips on a shaky exhale as you become putty beneath his fingers.

No matter how loud Pierre calls your name, you don't hear him, instead cupping the back of the Dutchman's head and pulling him in for a heated kiss. When you do finally notice him observing from afar, agony wracking his body, all you do is grin. It feels real, even though Pierre is certain it's a crazed fever dream, his mind spinning his worst fear to life: you seeking comfort in the company of someone that wasn't him.

Pierre starts when the door squeaks open, the nightmare thankfully dissolving. Charles steps out clad head to toe in blazing Ferrari red and instantly he knows who sent him. The thought alone stokes rage in his chest, the image of your lips on Max's still fresh.

"Not as easy as you expected it to be, is it?" He asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Fuck off," Pierre growls and immediately regrets it. Beyond you, Charles was his closest friend. They had known each other for ages. It wasn’t a friendship he was willing to sacrifice just because he felt like shit. Pierre sighs and throws him an apologetic glance. "No it's not."

"Why don't you talk to her?"

"She doesn't want to fucking talk, Charles. Take one look at her, she's hanging on Max like she can't get enough of him." Pierre hangs his head in his hands, emotions shifting faster than he did on race day. "I can't go back in there and watch her choose him over me."

"You don't really believe that bullshit, do you?" Charles asks, joining him at the railing.

Not entirely, but he still struggled to understand your thought process. He thought he knew you, but you being here tonight when he had been certain you wouldn't be proved he didn't. 

"I don't know what to believe anymore. I thought it would be forever, that I'd finally found someone who didn't mind my lifestyle and accepted it for what it was, who loved me unconditionally. I thought she was my forever."

"You think she's done with you just because some assholes invaded her privacy?" Charles shakes his head. "She's loved you for a long time, years even. You haven't seen the looks she gives you, but the rest of us have. You hung the moon in her sky, Pierre. That kind of thing doesn't just get swept away by the breeze."

His shoulders curl inward in an attempt to hide the frustrated tear that escapes him. "What am I supposed to do?"

Charles shrugs. "I don't think there's a right answer to that. Try giving her some space. She didn't grow up in the spotlight like we did. It's not an easy adjustment for some people, mate. And blowing up on her when she tries to make conversation doesn't help anything," he says gently. "Let her figure it out and come to you when she's ready."

The concept of letting you go even temporarily was terrifying to him. Waiting on you to make the first move was even worse because he was setting his fate in your hands. 

"I miss her," he murmurs, turning his face to his friend.

"I know." Charles throws an arm around the taller man's shoulders and follows his gaze out over the tiered streets of Monaco's city center. "My suggestion is to throw yourself into the season. Show her you know how to fight, y'know?"

Pierre nods. He could do that. It was how he normally handled his problems anyway; let the track wick away whatever was on his mind and force him to hone in on the details surrounding him in each moment. 

"You ready to head inside?" Charles asks.

"I don't think I can go back just yet."

"Want me to hang out here with you?"

"No. I'll be back eventually."

Charles' hand falls from his shoulder after a short squeeze, the sound of a tinny voice over the speakers temporarily flooding the balcony as Charles returns to the banquet. Pierre allows himself a few more moments of reprieve before slipping back inside just as the applause starts. Rather than returning to the delicately portioned meal that sat cooling before his empty chair, he orders a drink. Whiskey on the rocks, his go to in times of crisis. He takes one sip before the reminder of you ordering it for him in London makes holding the glass of caramel liquid unbearable and he downs it in a single swallow, going back to order a beer instead.

He nurses the green bottle of Heineken as he leans against the wall until the meal is finished and the chit chat starts. You stand with Max, practically pressed against him as you snatch a flute of champagne from a passing server. You search the crowd, brows drawing together when you don't locate your quarry. Pierre had made sure that he was tucked out of the low lighting, unsure if he could survive you stealing worried glances at him all night. 

Charles winds his way over to pass off a roll he snagged from dinner, practically forcing the Frenchman to eat it before returning to his date. He nibbles at it absentmindedly, entirely too focused on you to divert an ounce of focus elsewhere.

Your dress is a glowing sun in a sea of earth tone garments, drawing his eye as you pull Max out onto the wood platform serving as the dance floor before the tables are fully cleared. The flush in your cheeks tells him you're deeper in your cups than you should be; Max didn't know your limit as well as he did. Three drinks was all you could manage before you got tipsy, five if you wanted to be completely blitzed. 

The lights dim and his hiding spot is no longer quite as good as the party lights sweep over him from time to time. Max places one hand on your hip and you place one on his shoulder and grin up at him. Judging by the fit of giggles that requires you to lean into Max for support, you were teetering dangerously on the edge of being wholly drunk. You throw your head back and laugh at whatever Max says in response to your fit, Pierre straining to hear the musical sound over the band. 

"Hey," Victoria says, breaking his concentration. "You wanna get out there?"

Pierre grimaces. He had managed to completely forget about her, too stuck in his own head. "Sorry, Vic. I don't think I'd be a very good partner tonight."

"No worries," she says, a soft, understanding smile on her lips. "I can keep myself busy."

Pierre nods his thanks, his attention immediately returning to the dance floor. Daniel and his girlfriend steal the show, both laughing as he dips and twirls her across the floor. 

Being together was so fucking easy for them, effortless in a way it wasn't for you and Pierre. They never once paid any heed to the photographers that swarmed them or the headlines printed about them, they just laughed the rumors off and carried on. No one could question their love for each other because they were vocal about it- sometimes annoyingly so- and Daniel was rarely seen in public without her at his side. They were always touching, holding hands or stealing kisses or even the near scandal of his hand blatantly on her ass at the podium a few races back, and neither of them cared.

Their love was all that mattered. They didn't care who knew it.

But you and Pierre were far too private to be like that, at least not when you were still trying to figure things out yourself. The first sign of outside pressure had you cracking, and he wouldn't stand for knowing he was the source of your pain.

He tries and fails to convince himself he isn't jealous of the way Dan's hand so easily glides under the navy blue silk of her dress to caress her back without a second thought, wishing he could do the same to you. If he's being honest, he's living vicariously through Daniel for the next few songs, pretending he was someone else observing you and himself on the dance floor instead. It almost works; the way she shudders when his lips graze her ear is strikingly similar to how you'd react. The smile she flashes up at him is agonizingly close to your own wicked grin.

When her mouth finds his, Pierre gathers his wits and turns away. Their blatant public affection flipped a switch inside him, disgust rocking through him for a split second before he pushed it away.

He was happy for them. He knew what a long, rocky road it had been for them to become lovers instead of friends, had firsthand knowledge of the stress they'd gone through before they'd finally admitted their feelings to each other, put their pride aside and got together. Pierre had been the one to offer her advice on a night not much different than this one months ago, helping repair the damage Daniel's idiotic, thoughtless words had caused. 

But Pierre had since become the person who was sickened at the sight of others in love. It reminded him that part of himself was missing and he hated it.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep his eyes from wandering back to you. You still occasionally scan the room as Max struggles to lead you through a dance. By some stroke of bad luck your gaze snags on him just as a spotlight illuminates his face and he grimaces. A slow blink is the only surprise you let show before laying your head on Max's shoulder. Jealousy spikes through him like wildfire, igniting his blood and tinging his vision with red.

He wants to march over and rip you off Max. He wants you tucked safely against him as his thumb rubs circles on the bare skin of the small of your back. He wants, more than anything, to take you to his apartment and half carry you up the stairs, having to shush you because you're giggling loud enough to wake the dead, and lay you down in his bed. He wants to help you out of that stunning dress and into a pair of his sweats and curl up against you, letting you sleep off your hangover until noon.

He'd fucked up that chance though, hadn't he? He had slipped up and driven you straight into your friend's arms, who he trusted not to make a move on you but not enough to negate the jealousy coursing through him.

In that moment, he hates you. He hates the hold you have on him, the way a simple gesture between half-drunk friends could send him into a spiral so steep he didn't recognize himself. He hates that he can't keep his eyes off you, your gravity too strong for him to resist.

Most of all, he hates that he doesn’t know how to quit you.

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max​ @sunshinesewis​ @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval 

[kiegosbby]

heather

oh boy this is a long one, get comfortable!

Inspired by the song heather by Conan gray

This might hurt a little, imma be honest it hurt me a lot lol

let me know if you want a part 2

✁- - - - - - r- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

you are a teacher at u.a, and you liked your job, to the extent.

of course you loved teaching all the wonderful students! they were so kind to you and all amazing, but one part in particular you don’t like about your job.

mr aizawa

he’s not bad or anything of course not! But it’s your feelings towards him that you were scared about. whenever you’d see him in a hallway or teach alongside him, your heart would race, and your palms would sweat.

you hated it.

you hated how you couldn’t help but stare at him and admire him. he was so handsome, and your sure he wasn’t even trying to be.

and when you saw him before his press conference in that low bun? oh lord. you had one to many sinful thoughts about him that you did not want to admit

but, you hide your crush well, and would like to think that no one knew that you liked him.

so this leads us to where we are now, you and aizawa were alone in the teachers lounge, it was after hours so most people have cleared the school but you two

he was so close to you, you were sitting next to each other on the couch, grading papers together and all you could think about was how close he was. when he asked to grade papers together you started getting the symptoms he normally gave you, you were sweating, shaking your leg nervously and your heartbeat was faster then the fucking flash

“why are you acting so nervous?”

your head shot up from the paper you were grading, and with widened eyes you saw him looking curiously at you

“I-I’m not nervous! Did those kids finally make you lose it zawa?” you let out a shaky laugh after, and hoped he would let it go

“of course not they’ll never break me. Even if they try” his voice was back to being monotone, and he went back to grading papers

you both graded papers for a while, before your stomach rumbled loudly, aizawa laughed and turned to you

“you could have told me you were hungry, we can finish grading this tomorrow if you want”

you sighed in relief and started putting your papers away

“thank god, I’m starving I didn’t get to eat lunch cause mic was talking my ear off”

aizawas facade faltered for a second, showing worry and concern which you missed, sadly

“sounds like him”

you both finished packing up, and walked out together to the parking lot, it was dark outside with the stars swinging above you two it made you sad that you’d have to part ways.

you enjoyed his presence, you didn’t have to keep up conversation you could just peacefully be in silence.

you saw your car and turned to say your goodbyes to aizawa, finding yourself a little to close then you thought

your eyes widened, and your heart started racing again.

“S-sorry!” you backed away and started blushing like a tomato

“no need to apologize” his eyes searched yours as he reached out towards you and grabbed your hand pulling you towards him

“you look so beautiful y/n” one of his hands held your waist close to his, the other reaching up to your face, softly touching it as if it would crumble from his touch

your heart was racing, you felt as if you were melting right before him

he slowly leaned in, making sure you were ok with it.

you leaned in with him, and your lips meant in a slow passionate kiss, and everything felt as if it froze around you all you felt was his arm around you, his lips on yours

you both pulled away air filling your lungs and you looked at aizawa, before your stomach let out a large rumble

you both let out a laugh, and you pulled away missing his warm arm around you

“sorry I guess my stomach really wants something”

“duty calls, see you tomorrow yeah,?”

“yeah definitely” you smiled at him and waved a goodbye, turning towards your car and quickly got in hitting your head on the steering weel

you felt all giddy like a child, replaying the moment in your head as you drove home

....

the next day came quickly, and you have never been more excited to be in the school.

you walked through the doors and laughter filled your ears, you looked around for the source seeing ms joke with her class, making them all laugh

you quickly walked up to say a polite hello

“ms joke! what brings you to ua today?” she pulled you into a hug and and you responded quickly

“miss l/n! I’m so happy to see you, my class is here for special training with there quirks. It’s gonna be super fun. Also have you seen aizawa? I need to talk to him” her voice was bright, she could brighten a room ina instant, you adored her you wish you could make people that happy

“sounds fun, and I’ll let him know that your looking for him. I’ll see you later” you walked to your class hoping to not be late and ran into a walking sleeping bag

“w-woah! Oh zawa sorry I didn’t see you there”

“oh hey y/n, it’s fine not like I’m a bright yellow walking blob” you laughed at his joke and remembered what ms joke had said

“ms joke is looking for you I saw her in the entrance”

his face filled with a emotion that you couldn’t quite tell,then went back to his normal bored looking face

“thank you for telling me I’ll find her soon, I’m glad you bumped into me I wanted to ask you if we c-can u-um can we eat lunch together?”

your heart started racing at his question

“I would love to” you smiled at him and he smiled back, and he walked past you and headed towards your class

you walked in your class trying to think about what went through his head and decided to ignore it looking forward to seeing him at lunch

...

lunch came by quickly and you grabbed your packed lunch and walked towards the teachers lounge, hearing laughter from inside.

you walked in and saw ms joke, mic, and aizawa sitting together eating there lunch.

they all looked up at you and you quickly noticed aizawa had already finished all his lunch, he looked like he was having a good time, you never made him laugh like ms joke did.

you felt your heartstrings being pulled and your face faultered slightly

“hey y/n! wanna join us?” Mic was being polite obviously but you knew they probably wouldn’t want you there.

“yeah it’ll be fun! Right zawa?” joke said

aizawa turned his head towards her and he look at her with something he’d never looked at you with

ok well, that hurt.

“oh hey sorry for interrupting I-I think I’ll just go grade some papers but thank you for the offer” you turned away quickly, hoping to get away before they asked questions

you walked back into your classroom and set your lunch on your desk, sitting down and setting your head on the desk.

you saw the way he looked at her, and you were a fool to think you had more of a chance then she did

why would he ever kiss me?

I’m not even half as pretty..

ms joke was a goddess, you really couldn’t deny it.

you stuffed your lunch back in your bag and got ready for your next class.

the day went by slow, all you could think about was how you had messed up, letting him kiss you. you really couldn’t fall for him. nothing good would come for it

your mood had dropped and all your students noticed, you were being more rude then normal and being quick to yell at them

after classes were over one of your students approached you with a worried look asking if you were ok and saying that they were here for you. you quickly denied it and told them to get going so you could grade papers.

you were going to grade papers in the teachers lounge again, but risking the sight of ms joke with aizawa was something you didn’t want to risk seeing

you sat miserably at your desk grading as quick as you can so you could leave and avoid anything else. your heart already hurt and you didn’t need anything more to ruin your day

maybe it was a misunderstanding right? but the way he looked at her, his smile and laugh, her nickname for him.. you couldn’t ignore it and it hurt

you finished grading your papers and went to leave walking towards your car hoping to quickly be home, you needed a drink badly

“h-hey y/n wait up!” a familiar voice said, the one you thought about many times, but none of them were of him hurting you

you froze to the spot and wished to disappear

“oh hey aizawa, what’s up?” he had a confused look, you always used a nickname so why the sudden change?

“is something wrong? you’ve been acting weird all day” he was concerned obviously, but you could care less

“nope nothings wrong, and um about last night I think it was in the heat of the moment so we should forget it yeah? I got to get going I’ll see you tomorrow” you tried to sound like you didn’t care, but your voice had failed you and you mentally slapped yourself

you quickly went into your car trying to avoid any other conversation, pulling out of the parking lot faster than you should have.

this was good for him. she could make him happy unlike how you could. but oh how it hurt to think about them together

as you were driving away you saw aizawa standing there, and then saw ms joke approach him, putting a hand on his shoulder, touching him how you wanted to do desperately

only if you knew, how much I liked you..

i wish I were her.

[angelsxbelle]

inch by inch.

part 1??? if i get more requests idk

request: soulmate sugawara with reader that’s nishinoya’s cousin

parings: sugawara x reader, nishinoya x reader (cousins)

warnings: nishinoya, swearing, fluff

synopsis: in which y/n l/n runs into a certain handsome gray haired boy at her cousin’s volleyball practice and just can’t seem to get him out of their head for whatever reason

yuu was your classic crackhead cousin, the one that sat at the kids table at dinner despite being a whole ass 17 year old, the one that stuck his face in his birthday cake when it was put in front of him, the one that rode his bike down a hill at top speed while screaming his lungs out

what you didn’t expect him to do, however, was almost accidentally make the best decision of your entire life happen

you both went to karasuno, you were in the same year as he was a few months older than you and you lived relatively near each other, so you saw him ever day at school

you were well aware of his volleyball team, as he was always eager to play and you had met his best friend tanaka a few times when he had come over to yuu’s house when you were visiting with family

tanaka was fun, but you had never been interested in him in a romantic way, despite the enormous blush that appeared on his face whenever you walked into the room and the stupid grin that came over him

you had just assumed all of his other teammates would be the same way

normally you didn’t have too many interactions with yuu at school since you were in different classes and didn’t really have any of the same interests, but you still always made sure to say hi regularly

he was more into sports while you had other hobbies, but your paths still intersected fairly frequently

one day, as you were getting ready to go to school your mother called out to you from another room, saying that she had made a special treat to give your cousin since it was his birthday, and she wanted you to give it to him at school since you would be seeing him there

begrudgingly you agreed, since you would have to stop by his morning practice to drop off the sweets before your first class

you made your way to school like normal, carefully carrying the basket under your arm as you walked toward your destination

looking around, you spotted the boy’s gym quickly and walked over to where you knew your cousin would be practicing with his teammates, hoping you wouldn’t cause too much of a disruption

you creaked open the door apprehensively, trying to keep a low profile and direct a minimal amount of attention towards you

you were just about to make it to the side of the gym when you heard a loud, “OIIIII!! Y/N!!!!” from across the room

you winced, looking over at the bouncing ball of energy that was nishinoya yuu, otherwise known as your nutcase of a cousin

“h- hi  yuu, i brought you these sweets from home since it’s your birthday today’, you squeaked out

“ ahHH, thanks!!!”, he yelled, making everyone turn around to look at you

“well, i better be going”, you say, as you look away from your cousin’s face your eyes pan around the room, scanning the faces of the other boys in the room, seeing a particular one with gray hair staring right into your soul, eyes as wide as saucers

you gulp, and then awkwardly make your way out of the gym, too embarrassed to say anything else, not thinking too much of what you had just seen, shutting the doors behind you and making your way to your first class

*sugawara’s point of view*

he had never seen anything like it, at least not in his three years of being at karasuno high school, not ever with anyone else he had ever met. 

sugawara koushi watched as you gracefully walked by him, despite how on edge you appeared, your hair swishing past, eyes bright and sparkling even though you weren’t looking at him.

he had gone so out of focus that he hadn’t even been hearing the words coming out of your mouth, although he could have sworn he heard the words “nishinoya” and “cousin”, thinking thank god to himself you weren’t there for anyone else.

 his thoughts twisted and turned back and forth, not able to figure out why it felt like he couldn’t breathe, or why he couldn’t stop thinking about that beautiful girl that had just walked by him.

after he was sure you were long gone, sugawara walked slowly over towards your cousin, stopping just before him, not even realizing the words about to tumble freely out of his mouth.

“h-hey noya- san, who was that?”, he said, in an almost muffled tone.

“just my absolute favorite cousin of all time!!”, yuu yelled enthusiastically.

“what’s her name? is she in your year?”

“it’s y/n, she’s a second year like me although she’s pretty mature, almost a buzzkill if i’m being honest”, he mused.

“h-huh, okay, i see”, sugawara said, almost speaking to himself as he started to walk back to where he was standing before, ready to resume the passing drills they had been doing before you had stopped by. interesting, he thought.

“ you aren’t into her or anything eh suga- san? hah!!”, nishinoya yelled from where he was in the gym over to sugawara, jokingly.

“n-no!”

shit. that was probably the most unconvincing thing he had ever said, not to mention he had just developed a fat instant crush for his kohai’s cousin out of the blue during volleyball practice. this was going to be a long ride.

the entire practice sugawara couldn’t focus, his body was moving in the routine way it did every day, but his mind was elsewhere. the moment you walked past him kept replaying over and over again in his head, like a reel from an old movie. he had never seen your face before, but it felt like he had been waiting for you for years. 

the real question though, was what next.

after practice had ended, he walked over to nishinoya once more, his body moving before his brain could.

“noya- san, what kinds of things does your cousin like’? 

“huh???? so you do like her after all do you eh?” 

“yeah, i do”

“well i’m just going to ignore the fact that you’re trying to hit on my cousin and focus on the fact that you’re asking me for girl advice, so HERE WE GO:)!!! she really likes stuff that’s more calming, and i know she’s not a huge fan of small talk and she likes to get to know people for who they are deep inside, you know intellectual stuff like that.”

“hm, i guess i can figure something out, but i think that’s really interesting, she’s not like you at all noya- san”, he laughed.

“yeah!! i think she’ll really like you though, she seems like your type!! as long as you talk to her a little bit before i’m sure she’ll be into you.”

“well, thanks for the advice noya- san, i should go to class now but thanks for your help!”

“no problem, good luck suga- san!!”, he yelled.

that morning, sugawara koushi walked away with an extra spring in his step.

not wanting to ever make you feel uncomfortable or rushing you, he took his time with getting to know you, starting with little interactions in the hallways, offering to help you with your homework, the small things that mattered.

 he couldn’t help but feel completely captivated every time you looked up at him, the butterflies in his stomach never really going away.

sugawara took his time getting to know you, waiting for the right moments to speak to you, remembering the little things that made you happy, noticing you seemed just as happy to see him as he was to see you as time passed. 

being your friend was already amazing, even he could be satisfied with just that but he just couldn’t keep his eyes off you. not for a second that you were near him, he always had no trouble listening to what you had to say, watching every word flow out of your mouth like water.

slowly but surely, you were falling for sugawara koushi as much as he had fallen for you. 

sugawara knew he was finally ready to ask you out, after weeks of finding out just how much he really did like you after dozens of conversations where he could tell you felt the same way for him too.

it was after one of your afternoon classes had just finished, when you spotted a certain gray- haired boy walking towards you that you happened to be very fond of. you let a huge smile cover your face, ready to hear whatever he had to say to you before your next class.

“hi y/n!”

“hey koushi, what’s up?”

“o- oh! not much actually, you see... uhm... i was actually wondering if you would want to go on a date with me sometime with me this weekend? it’s totally okay if you don’t though!”

“no, it’s okay koushi... i’d really like that actually... what did you have in mind?”

“r- really? i was actually wondering if this weekend on friday night we could go stargazing together, i talked to nishinoya about it and i thought it might be something you’d like to do.”

“yeah! that sounds like something i’d really enjoy, how about i meet you at your house and we walk together?”

“that sounds perfect, i guess i’ll se you then, and... thank you so much for saying yes to me!”

“no problem- i... i really like you koushi.”

“i really like you too y/n.”

and so, that weekend, y/n l/n found herself getting ready to go stargazing with sugawara koushi. you wanted to make sure you looked good, so you were careful to keep your hair neat and wear a nice outfit, one comfy enough to lay down on the grass for two hours but that would also catch his eye.

you put on your shoes, ready to walk out the door and make your way to sugawara’s house, nervousness and anticipation fluttering in your stomach as you prepared yourself to see him.

as you got to his front door and met him on his steps, you couldn’t help but notice how he looked awestruck at your appearance, his eyes as wide as saucers as he looked you up and down once, and then twice. after normal hellos, you made your way to the spot you had designated for your viewing.

as you approached your destination, you couldn’t help but let out a small gasp as you saw the hilly fields of grass outstretched in front of you, with a warm breeze slowly whipping through the long dark green strands as faint clouds shifted above you, revealing a bright blanket of scattered stars adorning the sky. 

you looked over at sugawara, his soft eyes and gray hair glistening in the moonlight, looking almost as perfect as the scene in front of you. 

he took your hand in his as you moved forward up the biggest hill in front of you, stopping at the top of it to look out onto the small town you had called home your whole life, the lights inside looking absolutely tiny as you looked over the onstretch of scenery below you, the hem of your dress slowly fluttering with the wind flowing by you.

“koushi... this is beautiful”

“not as beautiful as you.”

you laid down on the grass together, careful to keep the hem of your dress from sliding above the top of your thighs as you stretched out comfortably on your back next to him, the midnight blue sky in perfect view above you.

“y/n... i just wanted to say i think you’re really amazing and i hope after this we can go on more dates together.”

“i’d love that koushi.”

you looked up, your hand brushing alongside his, bodies close, you could hear him breathing and feel his chest moving up and down, watching the bright orbs in front of your eyes dance along next to the fluffy clouds mingling alongside them.

you turned back to your side, looking over at sugawara, just as he turned to look over at you. you stared deep into his soft brown eyes, and you could feel his staring right back into yours. 

you had never felt a connection like this with anyone else, not in high school, not in middle school. he was the one person you had ever been able to look at and tell instantly how much they cared for you.

you slid in closer, inch by inch, just a little bit closer, as you watched him do the same, his fingers reaching underneath your jaw, gently pushing your hair out of the way as he pulled you closer.

and then your lips met.

his lips were soft, warm, it felt like a hug and a warm cup of coffee from a long lost acquaintance, like security and reckless excitement at the same time. 

you felt like you could stay like this forever.

and then he pulled away slowly, looking deep into your eyes as you looked deep into your eyes as he brushed his fingers along your cheek.

you buried your face into his neck, taking in his scent as you never wanted to leave this position. you felt like being close to him was the only place you could truly rest, the only place you wanted to rest.

you talked for hours that night, about anything from books and movies you both happened to enjoy to sharing deep vulnerabilities, you had no trouble letting each other in as you felt completely in tune with him, until you looked at his watch and realized it was 3am already.

groggily, you both managed to stand up and slowly make your way back home, with him dropping you off at your house since he didn’t want you to walk alone so late at night.

you barely managed to tuck yourself into bed and put on pajamas before you passed out cold from the day you had had, as you got ready to slip into your cool bedsheets you replayed the night you had had over and over in your head, not wanting it to end.

you were sure, at koushi’s house, he was doing the same.

in the weeks that followed after that, he had asked you to be his girlfriend and you had gladly accepted, the looks on the faces of his teammates, specifically your cousin’s, was all the reason you needed despite there being so, so much more.

what started as a basket of sweets for your cousin and a painfully awkward interaction turned into the best thing that had happened to you in your entire life, your sweet boyfriend that never ceased to astound you. 

sugawara koushi got what he had wanted most, and you got what you ended up needing the most.

each other.

[patt-writes-stuff]

Cotton Candy

Pairing: Midoriya x female! reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: maybe some curse words?

Genre: very light angst and fluff

A/N: This took SO long. I had writers block but thankfully I’m pretty over it now! This is my first piece for the summer binge event hosted by @bnhabookclub

Summary: You may be in an amusement park but you’re far from amused. Instead, you’re just sadly eating cotton candy.

Crossed Off: Cotton Candy

Prompt: “Why did you choose me?”

Class 1-A was spending the day at a theme park near U.A. Everyone had been looking forward to this for weeks now, even Bakugou, though he would never let it show.

Everyone, but you, that is.

Under different circumstances, you'd be over the moon. A whole day of rides, friends, and games? The definition of perfect.

You had been excited for today’s outing up until this morning. Now, you were sitting in a picnic table next to some food stands, eating cotton candy, and being sad.

You tore off a piece of the cotton candy, letting the sweetness of it disintegrate in your mouth. So far, it wasn’t doing an excellent job of getting rid of the bitter taste in your mouth. With a sigh, you recalled what had soured your mood so much.

You had been getting ready for the outing, excited to spend the day with friends. Just as you were finishing up, there was a series of frantic knocks at your door. A bit startled by the sudden noise, you opened the door, curious as to who was in such a rush to see you. The group wasn't leaving for another half hour.

A very frazzled looking Uraraka greeted you upon opening the door. You let her in, ushering her to sit on your bed and waited for your best friend to speak.

After a couple of seconds, she spoke. ”I want to confess to Deku today!”

Oh.

She wanted to confess to Midoriya. The very same Midoriya you were crushing on. You could practically feel the air being knocked out of your lungs.

She took your silence as a sign to continue. ”I don’t know how to do it,” she flopped dramatically onto your bed as if to further prove her distress, ”Will you help?”

”I don't know Ochaco, ” you said, looking away from her and instead focusing on the trinkets on your desk, ”Isn't Mina better at these sorts of things?” You didn't want to help with this in the slightest bit. Sure, Ochaco was your best friend, and you'd do just about anything for her, but walking on hot coals sounded more appealing than helping your best friend and your crush get together.

”Please, ” she begged, stretching out the ’e’ sound while she gave you the best puppy eyes she could muster.

Goddammit, your people-pleasing ways would surely be the end of you.

”Fine, ” you said, letting out a sigh.

Uraraka broke into a grin, letting out a ’yay’ sound. ”Do you have any ideas?”

”The amusement park has a Tunnel of Love ride, how about that? The amusement park we're going to has one.” you proposed. If you ever were to confess to Deku, you'd probably do it somewhere like that. Not that you had ever thought of that, though.

”A Tunnel of what?” She inquired, looking at you in question.

”It's this two-person boat ride that goes through these dark passages. It's supposed to be romantic and private, I think.” you spoke as if you hadn't done any research on them.

Ochaco let out a pleased gasp. ”That’s perfect! Thank you so much, ” she pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, ”You're a genius!” she exclaimed as she raced out the door, most likely to finish getting ready.

Shaking your head, you took another piece of your cotton candy. You always craved sweets whenever you were upset, and cotton candy was the first thing you could get your hands on.

It's not like you could be upset with Ochaco for asking you for help, she didn't know you also had a crush on Midoriya. You hadn't planned on keeping it a secret at first, honestly. You were going to tell her, back when you didn't know she had a crush on him. Then, at a sleepover, some of the other girls had teased Ochaco about her crush on the curly green-haired boy. They'd gushed about how perfect the two would be together. She’d been embarrassed but pleased that other people thought they were an excellent match.

You remember feeling sick that night. The more you thought of it, however, the more you could see what everyone else meant. They were always helping each other become better heroes. They just clicked.

You wanted Ochaco happy; she was your best friend. And you wanted Izuku to be happy too, even if that meant he’d be with another girl. They could be happy together.

So, you made it your mission to get over Midoriya. The task, so far, had proven to be much more complicated than you had initially expected. The problem was how incredibly sweet and attentive he was. He was always so willing to help you with homework, or training, or listen to you ramble about the stupidest of things, and he seemed so fascinated by everything you said.

He was just so perfect. His fluffy green curls had you itching to touch, to brush them off his face while he was writing on that hero notebook of his. His rambling, while admittedly a bit concerning, made you swoon. You could, and often did, get lost in his pretty emerald green eyes or counting all the freckles you could see on his face. He was just so… entrancing. You could just watch him for hours.

God, you’re horrible. Your best friend is probably going to get with this boy today, yet here you are pining over him like a lovesick fool.

”I’m a lousy excuse of a friend, aren't I?” You asked your cotton candy woefully, eating another chunk of the sweet treat.

”I think you're a great friend, ” a voice behind you declared. You jumped in surprise; you weren't expecting anyone to respond. You looked back to meet a pair of concerned green eyes. Those eyes are much too pretty to look so worried. ”Are you feeling better now?” he asked, sitting down next to you on the picnic table you were currently occupying.

”Huh?” was your ever so eloquent response. You cringed at how dumb you must sound.

His expression didn't shift from concern, however. ”You weren't feeling well earlier, remember? You said the roller coaster had made you dizzy. Are you feeling better?” He seemed to inch closer to you subconsciously.

Oh, right. You'd forgotten. You'd told your friends the last ride you'd been on had made you feel sick, and that you'd rather skip out on the next few remaining rides and find somewhere to sit. The Tunnel of Love ride was the last one of the day, according to Iida’s extremely detailed schedule, so you hoped to stay away until it was time to go back to the dorms. You loved your friend, sure, but you weren't a masochist. You knew seeing them together would be far from easy, and you hoped to keep all the negative feelings at bay until you were in the comfort of your room.

Midoriya, being the absolute sweetheart he undoubtedly is, had been quick to offer to keep you company or even to take you back to the dorms. You'd be a big liar if you said you hadn't been tempted to take him up on that offer, to postpone your inevitable heartbreak for another day, but one glance in Ochaco’s direction had been enough to shoo the idea away.

You'd forgotten what you had told everyone, honestly. You were as lousy as a friend as a liar.

”Yeah, I'm feeling much better!” you said in a cheery faux tone, throwing a reassuring smile for good measure.

He looked down at your cotton candy, a frown growing on his freckled face. God, you wanted to kiss it away. ”Why are you sad?” he asked, looking up from the cotton candy to meet your eyes. You swore you felt a jolt of electricity run down your spine when your eyes met.

”I'm not sad, ” you denied, shaking your head. You are lying through your teeth, but he didn't need to know that.

”You always eat sweets when you're sad.” he countered, obviously not buying it.

You looked at him, wide-eyed, ”How do you know that?” You wondered aloud. Darn, his observant nature. You gulped down the rest of your cotton candy, trying to get rid of the incriminating evidence, and threw the paper cone in the trash can next to the picnic table.

His face flushed, going bright r, and l he covered his face with his hands, mumbling a bunch of excuses you couldn't quite make out. Adorable.

”I’m feeling a little better now, ” you spoke softly, trying to ease his worries, feeling slightly guilty for flustering him so severely. You glanced down at your phone to check the time. It was almost time for the Tunnel of Love ride. Taking a deep breath, you said, ”Um, I think Uraraka had something to ask you. You should probably head over there now, so you don't miss the last ride.”

”She already asked me, ” he said, fidgeting with his hands a bit, looking straight ahead. ”I- uh, I said I couldn't. There's someone else I want to go on the Tunnel ride with.” he gave you a meaningful look. You ignored it, mistaking it to be simply a projection of your feelings onto him.

”Who?” you asked incredulously. If not Ochaco, then who could he possibly like enough to go on the literal Tunnel of Love? Perhaps Todoroki? He is pretty handsome; you'd admit that.

”You, ” he revealed, a newfound determination taking over his features despite his face being cherry red.

You felt like your brain was going to explode. Midoriya liked you? What? Since when? You weren't sure what to think. On the one hand, yay, on the other, what about Ochaco?

Before you could say anything, you heard a call of your name, along with Midoriya’s. The pair of you turned your heads to find Kaminari jogging up to the couple of you.

“Hey guys!” he exclaimed, full of pep, utterly oblivious to the charged atmosphere. “Iida told me to come to get you guys. We’re about to get on to the boats. We need to get going; otherwise, we’ll miss our place.”

Midoriya stood up, grabbing your hand and tugging you up. Instead of letting it go once you were out of your seat like you thought he would, he intertwined his fingers with yours and led you through the crowd of people. From the corner of your eye, you could see Kaminari's surprised expression at seeing the two of you holding hands. It only lasted a second, however, and after that, he gave Midoriya a not-at-all subtle thumbs up. It only made the poor boy blush even more. He was practically glowing. You were a bit worried. Could someone pass out due to excess blushing?

When you got to the line, most of your group was already in the ride, Ochaco included. You weren't sure whether you were glad or not. You weren't sure how to feel about anything.

Izuku, ever the gentleman, helped you onto the ’love boat.’ It was one of those canoes they have in the Venice Canal, and it was, for lack of a better word, obnoxiously pink, with glittery red hearts of different sizes all over.

The first minute or so in which the boat floated through the ride’s dark passages was spent in awkward silence.

“Why did you choose me?” you asked, breaking the silence. You turned your head over to look at Midoriya even though you couldn't quite see him in the darkness.

”What do you mean ’why’?” he asked. Though it was too dark to see his expression, you were sure; his brow was furrowed in confusion. Maybe slight worry.

”I mean, why ask me when Uraraka asked you? She's cute and positive and kind and-”

”I think you're all those things too, ” he said, effectively cutting you off.

Your eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness, meaning you could make out Midoriya’s face reasonably well. And, God, were you glad you could see his expression. A stray curl or two were in his face, and you almost reached up to tuck it back into place. His eyes, only half-open, weren't quite meeting your own. Instead, they were trained between your eyes, mouth slightly agape. He was leaning towards you steadily. His lips met yours, and you closed your eyes shut. Every inch of you was tingling, and you felt like fireworks were erupting all around you.

The moment was cut short by the intrusion of sunlight. Upon realizing the ride was over, you snapped away from him, reality finally settling in.

You just kissed Midoriya. The same Midoriya, your best friend, was going to confess to today.

You were such a horrible person.

Thankfully, none of your classmates had spotted the kiss. Otherwise, all hell would have broken loose.

You stood up quickly, not quite meeting Izuku or Ohaco’s eyes. Instead, you practically jumped out of the boat, and sped walked towards the amusement park.

Midoriya tried to approach you in the train station, but you excused yourself, claiming you had to go to the bathroom. The look of hurt in his eyes was enough to make you want to cry.

When the train arrived, you once again chose the cowards way out by going into the cart that neither Ochaco nor Izuku were in. Sitting down, you key put a sigh.

You liked Izuku. And Izuku liked you. But Ochaco also liked Izuku. Only Izuku didn't like Ochaco; he wanted you.

You used the train ride to clear your head. You decided that before you talked with Midoriya, and apologized for being so flaky, you had to speak with Ochaco. No boy, no matter how amazing he is, us worth losing a lifetime of friendship.

You hoped you wouldn't have to choose, though.

Once you got out of the train, you tracked down your friend. She was talking with Tsuyu, her back facing you. Taking a deep breath, you walked over to her, tapping on her shoulder.

“Can we talk?” You asked, voice quiet, hesitant.

The two of you walked in awkward silence, not quite sure on what to say, several feet behind the rest of the class so you could talk privately. You tried your best to keep your eyes away from Midoriya’s back, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. There was an appealing aspect to everything the green-haired boy did. Even the sight of him talking normally with Iida and Todoroki drew you in. He was a flame; you were a moth.

As if he could sense your staring, he turned to look back. His eyes locked on yours, and from afar, you faintly see the steadily growing blush that adorned his face. His lips quirked up in a small smile, and he sent you an equally small, unsure wave. Cute.

Growing flustered yourself, you sent a small wave back before looking away, eyes meeting Ochaco’s. She had been watching the entire interaction, a sad sort of a smile adorning her face.

”Why didn't you tell me?” she asked. She didn't sound mad or disappointed like you had imagined she would. She just seemed confused.

Guiltily, you looked down, bruising yourself by counting the cracks on the pavement while you thought of what to say.

”I didn't want you to be upset, ” you answered.

She let out a laugh. ”Upset about what? About you having a crush on a guy I'm not dating?”

”I just- I'm so sorry-” you began to apologize profusely before being interrupted by your friend.

”You have nothing to be sorry about. You like Deku, and he likes you. Who am I to get in the way of that?” the question was meant to be rhetorical, you knew that, but you answered anyways.

”But Ochaco, you have a crush on him, ” you stated. You couldn't quite understand why she was acting so calm about this.

” It's just a silly crush, ” she said, racing you off, ”I'll get over it. Your friendship means much more than that. ”

You smiled at her. ”I think so too.”

The two of you continued talking after that, the awkwardness that was previously there dissipated. Ochaco filled you in on everything you missed while you were gone. Bakugou had gotten angry at a carnival-style target game and had blown up the target, resulting in Iida scolding him while poor Kirishima tried to keep some semblance of peace between them.

Once you arrived at U.A., you and Ochaco headed towards the dorm rooms, much like the majority of your classmates. It was late in the evening, after all. You spotted a familiar head of curly green hair. As if sensing your nervousness, Ochaco placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder before scurrying off to her dorm room, saying a quick ’Good Night Deku’ along the way.

Once the two of you were left alone, he started speaking. ”I am so sorry for kissing you! I guess I just got caught up in the moment and forgot to ask if you were okay with it. God, you probably hate me-”

”No!” you said, a bit too forcefully.

You felt like you were falling for him all over again. You had ditched him. Yet here he was, fidgeting anxiously in front of your doorway. This boy was going to kill you with that sweet nature of his.

He looked at you, a bit shocked by your reaction. You felt your face heating up. That had been sudden, hadn't it?

Clearing your throat, you spoke. ”No, ” you said, quietly this time, ”I enjoyed the kiss. A lot.”

The surprised ’Really?’ he let out made your face break into a grin. He was adorable.

”M-me too, ” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

The two of you stood there for a couple of seconds, merely admiring the presence of each other.

”I should go, ” he said softly.

Feeling particularly brave, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down for a kiss. He seemed to melt into the embrace, letting out a happy hum. After a few moments, he pulled away. Red-faced and smiling, he wished you good night before heading back to his dorm.

You entered your room, wasting no time in changing into your PJs and flopping on top of your bed, a massive smile on your face.

You may or may not have squealed into your pillow

[leossmoonn]

I’m begging be my wingwoman 🔮 (male marauder pls)

My name is Laila. I use the pronouns she/her 💜. My favorite color is purple (like my room is purple and everything) and I’m unlabelled cause I do what I want 🙄. I ramble A LOT. I love talking about things I’m passionate about like fictional universe, movies (I’m obsessed with movies) and music, yes I can listen to the same song 15 times a day. I love r&b, bedroom pop, rock, grunge so anything really. When I’m not screaming madly about racist, homophobic, Islam phobic and sexist ppl or fictional universes, I talk about astrology and personality tests. I just love trying to figure out ppl and understand them. So, I’m really intuitive. Maybe it’s because I feel like no one understands me but idc cause I’m in denial about my depression all the time so I’m still the funny, talkative (I can still be calm and cool, I’m an introvert after all), super supportive friend in my friend grp (which is only two ppl btw). As I said I’m obsessed with movies and music which results in me being dramatic. Like I would be the type to propose that we dance in the rain, watch the stars or open the windows of the car and scream at the top of our lungs on the bridge of some Lorde song or “Just like heaven” by The cure. Btw I’m an hufflepuff, I’m biracial (half African, half white french Canadian), I’m 5’8 and an infp. My big three is libra sun, Scorpio moon and Capricorn rising. Sorry if I overwhelmed you, sometimes my mind just gets so full ;) thank u and have a wonderful day/night <3

ahh this isnt too much dont worry! it gave me a lot to work with :)

marauders ship - sirius black

so you annoyed sirius at first bc you were trying to figure him out. you asked him lots of questions and tried to get under his skin bc you knew he was more than just the gryffindor playboy who occasionally plays pranks. (spoiler alert: you were right lol). you also had a slight crush on him, which caused you to want to talk to him a lot. and honestly, he liked you too, he just hated that you were trying to figure him out. he wanted to remain mysterious, but once you two became a couple, he knew that wouldn’t happen. you were the first one to ask him out. it was kind of out of a dare from your friends and his friends bc they teased you two a lot, and his friends knew youd kill him w your questions. so you asked him out casually and he agreed. he ended up setting up the date and it actually turned out a lot more romantic than you thought lol. he ended up setting up a little picnic under the stars by the black lake. he made your favorite dishes and you were very very impressed. you two ended up learning a lot about each other and sirius fell haaaarrrdd that night. he learned what your favorite songs were, your dream job, what zodiac signs you hate, your family history and personal life. he was a big talker himself, but that night he just let you take control of the convo bc he loves your voice. he thinks its so cute when youre excited abt the topic too. you were ranking your favorite movies from worse to best, and whenever you got to the best ones, your eyes would light up and you would squeal and your whole body would shake in excitement and it just made sirius smile so much. like by the end of the night, his cheeks were numb. you two ended up turning on music, your fav ofc and you introduced him to a lot of r&b and bedroom pop and he is a proud supporter of destiny’s child and wallows. you two laid on the blanket and looked at the stars. you started talking again abt astrology and stuff and sirius even took a turn in talking abt astrology and it really surprised u and def made you 10000x more attracted to him hehe. the night ended w him walking you back to your house and a sweet goodnight kiss and him asking you to be his girlfriend. awe! you two are the hottest and loudest couple ever lol. you two often play pranks on each other, sirius teaches you eletric guitar to your fav rock songs, you end up making him take a personality test hehe. he wasnt very political before but you turned him into a polite - most of the time - politician. you two know all the facts and always win the arguments. (or end up hexing ppl lol). you two are al all-around supportive, loyal, fun, and loving couple. and though your personalities may clash (you blame it on the zodiac signs hehe), you two are soulmates and wouldn’t change a thing abt each other <3

hope you like this :)

join my celebration! - 1 day left

[gcldenchild]

💚guilty time.

memories meme. | accepting.

it’s an unnaturally cold night in alenthaal.

so far, they’re only a month in. just barely three more before the promised day arrives, and ed’s been trying his fucking hardest to keep it together. lum’s been doing her best to help him with what she can, only being one piece to their little therapy puzzle.

neither of them can sleep. for lum, it’s a matter of the chill reminding her too much of lucaun’s funeral. for him, it’s a matter of his body feeling like its fucking on fire, with every fiber of his being trembling uncontrollably as he gets through another night without al.

lauriam’s old room. that’s what this was- where he was staying for the next three months or so. he’s not just in some inn, he’s in a HOME, a home that isn’t his, a home without alphonse by his side. 

it doesn’t feel right. it really, really doesn’t feel right. this bed should not belong to him. this space should not belong to him. he doesn’t deserve it, not with how much trouble he’s given lum since he first came here. how much trouble he’s given all of her “group” since coming to this one place they knew would be safe from the influence of central command.

it’s all just buzzing as he slams his pen down, no longer able to focus. his sight has abandoned him, and quite frankly, he doesn’t think he can look at these alkehestry arrays for even a second longer.

taking in new information has been a problem for him ever since he saw the gate, and he can’t fucking take it anymore. his head feels like it’s going to explode along with the rest of him. 

just like always, the world around him has darkened. although morbid, he’s found a sense of comfort in it. even with the rest of him falling apart, he can always count on this dreadful emptiness returning. 

it’s been his one and only constant. every single night, without fail, it’s returned, trying to embrace him. trying to drag him down completely. he’s resisted, of course. 

he’s of no use to al dead. getting his body back is a joint effort, and he knows that. no matter how much his own mind tries to convince him otherwise, he’s at least able to think that one portion through. it doesn’t stop his fantasies, though. 

“ ed ? it’s me. are you up ? ”

he doesn’t turn. he can feel her, behind the door, no matter how faint her presence may be to him right now. she’s probably just about the only person he can sense, with how powerful charity’s energy is compared to the rest of humanity.

at least he can’t hear the screaming of a philosopher’s stone from within her like with greed. only the static of the gate accompanies her being, though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t prefer the former.

he’s gotten all too used to the unending cries of his own conscience.

“ ... yeah. come on in, lum. ”

ed can’t even hear himself speak. he makes no effort to turn in his chair, knowing full well that lum’s already trudged over to his side, sleep deprived and holding what’s probably her third mug of coffee.

“ any progress s’ far ? can’t make heads or tails of anythin’ on my end. ”

“ ... no. can’t- can’t focus. sorry. ”

wordlessly, she puts an arm around his back, gently as possible, and squeezes. his voice is probably shaking like the rest of him. 

“ ... it’s okay, edward. you don’t have to push yourself, alright? it’s not goin’ anywhere. i won’t go anywhere, either. we can work on this for as long as we need to.  ”

he knows already, but he lets her say it again anyways. his scar always flares to life whenever any of them say it, but it’s stabilizing. it makes him feel like a person again.

he can’t see anything that’s not within an inch of him anymore. it always gets like this, right when it’s about to hit at its worst. but he should be fine. lum’s here with him. she knows how to help with his panic attacks. this is just going to be like any other night so far. his chest is just going to close up like always when the phantom suffocates him, and he’ll have al’s lum’s hand at his back to force him to breathe.

“ oh, but you wish it could be that simple, don’t you, edward ? ”

no. no, this isn’t right. it- it always appeared in front of him, no matter what. those blank white eyes meant to copy his would stare into his own, taunting him, just like they always have. 

it was only the hands that ever formed from the back. he was always choked from behind, with the smoky reflection trying to drag him back down from the front. trying to keep him down.

luitumi vanishes. he can only feel it, the inescapable wave, crushing his back as the horrible mimic sounds from his left side.

lum is gone. 

his one method of grounding, and he can no longer see or feel her. he can only feel those claws gripping at every part of him once again, the phantom tendrils from the gate returning to assist.

for the first time this night, he turns, face to face with the creature he’s created. the form is too human for him to be comfortable with. 

“ did you honestly think getting used to it would help, edward ? i am you. we are one, bound together for as long as we live. it’s my job to make sure you and i remain EQUALS. ”

“ sh- shut up. y-you’re not fuckin’ real- you’re not- ! i know you aren’t- ! you’re just- you’re just some shit m’ brain made up, you’re not- ”

“ am i, edward, truly? ”

“ then why don’t you do yourself a favor then and prove it ? i’m right here. if i were truly some figment of your imagination, you should be able to kill me with your own mental will. ” “ or are you too much of a coward to go through with your own fantasies of killing yourself ? it wouldn’t do any harm. you’ll finally be able to see your own truth, edward. ”

his heart leaps. there is nothing grounding him, not anymore. there is nothing to keep him from acting out on his pure hatred for himself.

desperate for an answer, the phantom is quickly pinned to the ground, ed’s own hands wrapping around its neck. no longer will he be the one suffocating. he won’t- he can’t. he’s so tired of drowning, so tired of it.

“ y-you can’t- i won’t let you. n-not a’ymore. n-not ever again. you’re not  r e a l . ”

the phantom only stares back. 

“ i wonder when you’ll see it, edward. what the truth behind your existence is. behind what our existence is. you’ve always known, deep down, but you’ve repressed it, haven’t you ? you don’t want to admit to yourself what you did that day, do you ? ”

“ shut UP- ! ”

he slams its head into the floor. he swears he can hear some kind of crack, but they don’t shift one bit. it’s not enough. not enough to kill them.

“ you’ve let your pride consume you, edward. how many times must i bring you back to where you belong ? to restore those memories you’ve shut away, only for you to deny them again ? ”

“ SHUT UP-! ”

he can’t breathe. he tries to tighten his own grip, to keep up, but he can feel hands clawing at his own. is the phantom finally trying to resist ? is he winning ?

“ why don’t you look at what you’ve done, edward ? ”

the clawing grows stronger in intensity. he does not see the hands doing it.  his throat closes up, and he can only choke as he stares at the faux version of him.

“ look at your hands, child. this is who you are. a beast that needs taming. ”

desperate for anything, he does. one hand is lifted-  and he sees red.

“ wh-wha- ”

the phantom just laughs. 

a screeching cackle that hurts his ears, it laughs, and it reaches out to his stomach, digging into the sensitive flesh as it brings itself up to his ear, the whisper sending chills down his spine.

“ i cannot be killed, edward. we are one and the same. ”

just as quickly as it appeared, it vanishes, and he finally sees again. he sees the person whose blood he just spilled, eyes dull and glassy, staring at him with what he can only describe as sheer terror.

unbreathing, unblinking. a warm corpse.

“ luh... ”

he can’t feel anything. he can’t feel, not even as he brings his trembling hands to her face, trying to get her to move, to do something. the bleeding from the back of her head only continues, every last drop of her own life spilling out beneath them, staining strands of desert gold and sunkissed skin. he can’t feel a pulse.

“ l-luit-tumi, th-this- thi-this i-isn’t f-funny, c-c’mon-”

all too quickly, he starts breathing once again. in and out becomes a desperate struggle as he tries to get air back within his own lungs in an attempt to speak, paying no mind to the whines escaping his own chest.

“ l-lum, p-please, y-’y g-gotta, p-please- ”

“ you’re too late,” the phantom calls. “ look what you’ve done. ” and he is. he is looking, trying to bring her back. sh-she can’t be dead. he refuses to accept that. he refuses to accept that he’s killed her, this has to be some kind of joke.

and yet, she still doesn’t move, the color fading from her body. 

“ l-lum-”

and then he feels it.

the energy of charity, but not the energy of luitumi. it’s crackling, deep within what he’s sure is her chest, desperate. it reaches out to him, the fury of the homunculus freezing his bones.

" humility, what have you DONE ?! ”

and not even a second after, his body finally gives out, falling to the floor. he cannot see, cannot hear, cannot breathe.

he can only feel as lucaun’s energy slams through where the door should be, picking up the faint wavering of panic as his consciousness fails him.

[kimnjss]

for part 22 !! this is long im srry ahfduhdfu

“Now laying in his lap felt like a crime. As if you were stood in self-checkout, constantly glancing over your shoulder as you scanned an expensive pair of shoes as one of those 79 cent candy bars.”

said it a couple of times, i’ll say it again. the way you write is SOOOO SOOOO good. we can feel so much and see so much which are prolly like ,,,, the most important things in writing ?? also, poor y/n. POOR POOR Y/N . she cares so so so much for miju like bruh their friendship rlly b toxic like this huh :--(

“But you can’t shake the look on Miju’s face you conjured, watching the two of you with that pouty frown of hers, arms crossed over her chest.”

the fact that this whole girl bestie crush issue is sooooo shallow but bec miju has so much issues (she needs help), y/n finds the need to constantly feel guilty ??????????? i so so so feel bad. not @ me being a miju apologist before yIKES cant believe she made our girl try to drop out of ballet ????? fucking dumbass bitch im gonna slap her so strong

“As if he’d let it go. As if he’d pick up on the slightest abnormality in your mood and just let it slip. Let you drive yourself mad with your racing thoughts and not let him in, not let him take on some of the weight. As if.”

so this is where i started crying !!! i think it’s like the nature of people to just ,,,,, idk ask when they feel something’s wrong but they dont really care enough to actually CHECK up on you ??? if that makes sense ??? i’ve had my fair share of people doing this. they’d ask but then get sidetracked and forget you were someone to worry for. this is probably why this y/n and this jimin might be my favorite. they feel so real, the emotions are so raw. i’m rlly glad our girl has jimin by her side now. he’s exactly what she needs. not just as a lover but ,,,,, as a person. yknow ??? like someone to just ground her whenever she’s so high up her mind. someone to be with her as in WITH her. i love love love that.

“No idea what’s wrong with you, but safely relieved that it’s not him. That he could help you work through whatever it is.”

i hope u know my standards for ppl is so so so high bc of ur au-s i SWEAR to god where r the fellas like this huh ???? hUUUUH ?????

“’I don’t know… I just… keep thinking about Miju.’ Jimin lets out a scoff, rolling his eyes in a really exaggerated way.”

jimin, u, me, same

“You’re really thinking about a girl while I got my hand on your ass? Is there something I should know?”

I LOVE HIM SM PLSSSS *INSERT CRYING EMOJI IM USING LAPTOP SO* I LOVE HIM I LOVE THE HUMOR I LOVE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

“His face softens at the sound of your words, becoming serious for you.”

i nominate loy! jimin for best boyfriend PERIOD if he doesnt win, RIGGED

“That’s a terrible idea.” The door slams behind the new voice, your body instantly lunging from Jimin’s lap to the vacant space behind him”

like everyone else, i tot this was miju too HAUFHDIUHFUDHUF

and then we came to the part where jimin was having his crisis bc he wants The Sex but our baby is just not having it. i actually really like the way you portrayed it. whenever he’ll talk about wanting to fuck, he’d always say but he understands and he respects. that’s reality baby. he’s a man of honor but obv he has his ~hormones~ and i cANT STRESS ENOUGH how much i love you for writing that !!!!! they jus feel real ok like . how do u even do this ???? HOW IS YOUR MIND CAPABLE OF WRITING THINGS LIKE THIS YOU TALENTED TALENTED BABY

  // ok now that i just reread it, i jus found out that they talked abt the ballet thing in this chap LMAOOOOO i thought it was when they were in the dance room ajidjfijoifjafiodj //

“Can’t wait to fast forward past all this shit. Feel like I haven’t seen you smile in a while.”

cried to this too. like ,,, cried VERY HARD. i turned my phone off AHAHHAHAHA this is pAINFUL . y/n’s going through so much and i jus feel feel feel so bad (also hits close to home) . i feel like im always gon think of this line now whenever i feel a small inconvenience afiudhuihdui . CANT WAIT TO FAST FORWARD PAST ALL THIS SHIT . WANNA SEE MYSELF SMILE AGAIN

“Surprised that he even cared about the difference, but he did.”

when i read this, yes, i cried HARDER . we all need a loy jimin in our lives huh ?? . he's just ,,,, It. like It . jimin loy best boy !!!! also @ yn. DESERVE !! youve always been the older sis, the good good friend, with jimin, u can rest bby. u can lay low, u can do whatever u want :--( u deserve it

“Did you just call me your girlfriend?”

AFHUDSHFJKAHDFJKSHAJKDHFJKAHFKJDSHFJ THERE WE HAVE IT FOLKS BYE

“No.” There’s an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “I’ve only been referring you like that in my head for the past month for fun,”

im having so much fun imagining a jimin in my life FOAHDSIFHIDSHOIFHIO ihy sm for making me realize how dry my love life is CAN I PLS LIVE IN THIS UNIVERSE N TRY TO FIT MYSELF IN BETWEEN THESE TWO AJAJAJAJA (no i wont yn deserves this but whatever mom i wANT HIM)

“I want you to be my girlfriend. So that I can be your boyfriend. And we can be boyfriend and girlfriend to each other, together.”

look at them go :--( cringey babies idk theyre so so so so so so so so nd i cant stress enough SO SO SO SO ADORABLE

“Go ahead. I’ll protect you.”

IM FUCKING SCREAMINGAHDHUFDHUSHIUHAFUIHDSFUI I LOVE HIM OKAY MUM I LOVE HIM CAN I PLS HAVE HIM WHERE DO I FIND (but also, IVE BEEN SAYING IT but like thank thank thank thank fuck they found each other. though y/n has kook, jimin is jus different ,,, i mean obv right but yes im just so so so so glad. y/n doesnt need to always be strong and dependent now. she can just be her and jimin loves that. SIGN ME UP UHUH UHUH

and then we have this whole talk with the moon and y/n quoting him back. i think loy yn and jimin best couple ????? I WILL FRAME THE WHOLE MOON TALK OKAY BYE ,,,,,,,, but fr thats so wholesome and i feel so honored i get to read this FOR FREE. it’s just soooo *insert that aww-ing emoji the one w big eyes* . i love them so much im willing to risk it ALL. theyre so so so so amazing. YOURE AMAZING. i LOVE IT.

[scullyy]

Two Sides of the Same Street / Chapter Five

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four

Pairing: Clementine x Louis

Word Count: 4223

Summary: Upon returning Clementine to her house, Louis gets the chance to meet her family.

A/N: I really have no excuse. I cannot thank you enough for the patience, I really can't say why this chapter took so long. I just fell out of my groove, lost a lot of inspiration for a while. This will be the last chapter in this series. I only ever intended for it to be short-lived and I feel like this is a nice place to finish. Hopefully, this ending will please you. Enjoy :)

-♥-

There was just darkness. Simple and suffocating darkness all around her. Clementine stretched out her hand, losing them to the dark. There was nothing, yet somehow everything felt..wrong. Oh so wrong.

"Stop it you're fine." She mumbled, her voice buzzing in the air above her. A slight breeze washed over her foot, causing Clementine to jump high into the air. Hidden amongst the darkness an empty row of bloodied nails began to surround her, creeping in from every direction. Clementine fell to her knees, desperate to sink into the floor and hide.

Her words couldn't break the silence. "Leave me alone." She gave a final cry before her vision went blurry, her lungs exploding in her chest.

The world around her fell together like puzzle pieces. Clementine immediately sat up, clutching the bed sheet that her legs were tangled in. Sweat collected beneath her knees, sending chills up along her thighs. A warm hand broke through her icy layer.

"Clem,"

Her head followed the hand on her shoulder to the body it belonged to, finding Louis kneeling beside her, his brows furrowed deeply. "What's going on? You were shouting in your sleep," He brushed some damp curls from her face, his heart sinking at the tears welled up in her eyes.

Clementine brought her knees up to her chest, holding herself tightly. "Yeah uh..it's fine.." She closed her eyes and took one long breath after another, thinking of the treehouse she had as a child. Lee told her to think of a peaceful place, a place where good memories hide.

"You wanna talk about it?" Louis whispered. He pulled the small lamp on the corner table closer to her, pushing away the darkness that always threatened her. "Sounded pretty serious." His pulse was running like a train in the night. Her screaming bloody murder had him thinking there was an intruder in the apartment, a physical threat would have been easier to deal with than an emotional manifestation that only she could see, that only she understood.

Nevertheless, his grandmother taught him never to leave someone crying alone.

"I have bad dreams from time to time, it's nothing new." Clem kept her eyes focused on the soft light beside her. If she even dared look at Louis she would reveal anything and everything about her, why her dreams are there and why they'll never go away.

Louis' eyes darted back and forth between her and the skinny hallway behind him. "Do you, uh...wanna stay in my bed? Just so you feel better!" He immediately adds to dial down her wide eyes. "You don't have to-"

"Okay," Part of her agrees just so she won't have to remain alone for the rest of the long night, the louder part of her brain agrees just so she can be closer to him. "I...don't really want to be alone." She voices the quiet side of her brain.

Louis wiped both his palms against his pants, unsure of where to tread now. "Well, let's go then." This situation wasn't included in the etiquette lessons his mother taught him as a young boy. Was there a protocol? Maybe offer her a glass of water? Tequila??

He would have grabbed her hand had his own not been sweating like crazy. They padded towards his room, both desperate to not wake Marlon. Somehow he remained asleep through the commotion.

When in his room, Clementine immediately gestured to the piano in the corner of his room, it took up the majority of his living space, standing as his prized possession. "Hey, it's Perry." The piano gleamed beneath the pieces of moonlight that found their way in through the crack in his curtain.

It was the first time Louis had noticed just how much space it soaked up in his room. It was also the first time both of them had felt a connection to an inanimate object. "I can't believe I said that to you in our first conversation." Who would have thought they would be where they are now when their first encounter was merely business?

"It wasn't as dorky as you thought it was," Her voice was hushed, dim like the streetlamp outside. "I haven't given my guitar a name yet." With a slow movement, she presses her index finger against the A key, bouncing away at the surprising loud noise.

"There's a rule in this place, no music at night," Louis lowered his head, implying that this was a rule he was prone to disobeying. "So..."

"So..."

Louis fumbled with the loose band of his flannel pants, trying to remember the French alphabet, the words to 'La Vie En Rose', how much money he had hiding away in his piggy bank. Anything to take his mind off the fact that a girl was in his room. His. Bedroom. This wasn't just any girl too, this was a girl he had a crush on. A girl who actively liked him back! "I'll...see you in the morning," It would have taken him an easy three strides to get out of his stuffy bedroom, but a small hand latched onto his arm halfway through his second step.

"You're going?" She didn't mean to sound so meek, desperate even. His exposed skin burned her fingertips in the best way possible, a feeling she wanted to remember.

He almost looked like a puppy being given an unfamiliar order; head lunged to the side, big inquisitive eyes. "I don't wanna impose-"

"It's your room, Louis. You're not imposing." She gently tugged on his arm, bringing the two closer to his double bed shoved against the far corner by the window. Clementine slid her legs in one by one, immediately finding comfort in the cotton-polyester.

Louis moved slower than her, making sure she had taken up her desired space before closing the blanket around them. "Goodnight, Clemster."

"Night Lou. Thank you." Her slurred voice almost had him melting. It was odd to see this relaxed side of her and not the stoic face she puts on every day. The last thing he saw before drifting away again was the ghost of a smile on her face, blessing him with simple yet sweet dreams, just like her.

-♥-

Was there a better feeling than waking up to no alarm?

Louis shifted amongst his blanket, blinking rapidly against the flakes of sunlight that greeted him through the curtain. His free arm stroked the other side of the bed, slowly caressing the empty space beside him. It was still slightly warm from her presence...her...her? Louis gripped the bedsheets with new-found adrenaline, his body sliding upright immediately.

"Clementine?" He called out. How did she slip away so quietly? Louis threw the sheets off his body, immediately freezing to the cold air hanging around. He reached for his dinosaur slippers, sliding them on one by one. His ears perked up when he heard giggles coming from the room next to his; the kitchen.

"Alright Lou, it's a brand new day." His voice was situated at its usual morning croak. A swift cup of tea with a spoonful of honey would fix that. He trudged into the bright kitchen where stains adorned every counter. A small breeze flew in through the open window and it carried itself along with the laughter of Clementine.

Marlon noticed Louis' presence first, then again Clem had her eyes shut tightly to repress her tears. "Morning dude, I was just telling Clem here how you lost that tooth."

His shoulders fell at having such an embarrassing secret revealed. "I was nine, cut me a little slack," Louis ignited the stovetop, choosing to focus on which flavour of tea to have. Peppermint or Apple Cinnamon? "Did he also tell you that it was his idea to climb that ridiculously tall tree in the first place?"

"No way," Marlon chewed up the rest of his toast before wiping the crumbs on his raggedy jeans. "You'll have to fight me another time cause I'm off to see Brody, my headache has gone so I can at least think properly."

Louis chucked two teaspoons of sugar into his yellow mug. "You sure you're feeling better?"

Marlon raised his hands in defence. "I'm fine." He tossed his winter coat over his should, beaming a smile full of pride. The power of a hot shower and NyQuil was stronger than he thought.

"Ah, no D at the end of fine this time. Carry on good sir." He waved his first mate out the door, nearly forgetting about the other presence lingering behind him. She made herself known by peeking over his shoulder, staring directly at the steaming kettle.

"I'm more of a coffee person myself."

Louis turned around in one fluid motion, if he was an ultimate chef, he would totally whip out some expensive cutlery and hors d'oeuvres (who needs breakfast foods). "May I interest you in some mediocre Peppermint tea instead?"

Clementine's smile somehow made the already sunlit room brighter. But soft what light through yonder window breaks... "No thanks."

"Damn, I would have given it to you on the house," He quickly turned off the cooktop just as the kettle began to screech. The hot water was quickly thrown into a very scratched travel mug as Louis mixed the little bag of leaves around. "Y'know, 'cause you're cute."

"I don't think that's how the exchange of goods and services works-"

"-Does now." Louis chucked the little spoon into the sink, the fresh smell of peppermint filled the small kitchen, even Clem had to admit it was appealing. They stood in silence as Louis sipped at his drink, playing off just how hot it really was.

Clementine peaked a glance at her watch, a gift from Lee for her sixteenth birthday. "I should be heading home, don't want AJ to worry."

"Your dad wouldn't be worried?"

"He hasn't called me yet, so I take that as a good sign. AJ always tries to protect me." Whenever Clem would awake from a nightmare AJ would be there at the ready, flashlight in hand to take down the monsters that threatened her.

"Let me walk you, it'll give me an excuse to get in my daily cardio," More like monthly cardio, but she doesn't need to know that. "I just gotta change my shoes, and pants, maybe my shirt too...gimme a minute to change my whole outfit." Louis bounded back to his room, eager to continue this already perfect morning.

Within minutes, Louis was bounding out of his room in an entirely different getup; grey hoodie, his favourite black jeans (his only black jeans really) and a navy blue beanie. Or as Marlon would have called it 'fucking hipster getup'. "Hippity hoppity let's get back to your property."

"Really? Hippity hoppity?"

"Let's just roll with it for now."

Clem wrapped her jacket around her shoulders before heading out into the new day. A very cold day already, already feeling the need to shove her hands into her pockets.

"Getting cold already?" Louis teased, despite also shoving his hands into his large pockets. What is it with men's clothing having bigger pockets? "That's just Jack Frost nipping at your nose."

"Jack Frost?"

"Y'know, like the fable? My brother loved those fairy tails and I loved reading them to him. There was Jack Frost, Snow White, Red Riding Hood and my personal favourite, The Little Mermaid."

"I always liked Aladdin," As the snowflakes fluttered onto her feet, Clem wondered about this small town she now called home. It was all a fresh start, to put all that happened in Savannah behind her. Never in her wildest dreams had she expected to find someone as charming, funny and kind as the boy whistling beside her. "What are you whistling?"

"Just a small tune I've been working on."

"Oh yeah? You write music?"

Louis shrugged, brushing off the fact that he had a whole box of unwritten music hidden beneath his bed. "Occasionally, I reckon this is gonna be my greatest piece yet."

"Really? What's it called?"

"I'm not sure yet. Maybe 'Clementine'. Y'know cause I like fruit...and I like you even more." He gently bumped her shoulder, his eyes locked onto his feet. Louis was a smart man and he knew that if he took one look into Clem's wide brown eyes he would melt quicker than the snow beneath his shoes.

Soon enough her house came into sight, seeing Lee’s snow-covered car in the driveway took a weight Clem hadn’t realised was on her shoulders. “Nice to know he made it back safe.” She skipped up the front steps and knocked with a little too much force.

It didn’t take long at all for the door to get pulled open rapidly. "Clem!" A small boy charged right at Clementine, bear tackling her leg. "You're back!"

She pushed him off her leg and kneeled down to his height, pulling him into a proper hug. "Hey AJ, were you okay last night?"

Louis' brain began to tick over. 'AJ...oh shit the little brother.'

AJ squeezed the life out of his big sister. "I did what you said, kept the lights on and didn't open the doors for anyone."

"Not even me," Lee hovered in the doorway to the kitchen, a dish towel flung over his shoulder. "Had to convince him that I was indeed the man I claimed to be."

Clementine giggled, letting AJ run back to his colouring book. "Sounds rough," She fully embraced the tall man before her, letting any loose thoughts about her nightmare wash away. "Hey, Lee."

"Hey there Sweetpea, you doing good?" His voice was soft, nothing compared to the booming roar that Louis' father used to speak with.

"I am," Her eyes glanced between Lee and Louis, wondering which of the two was more curious to know the other. "Lee, this is Louis. He works at the music shop across the street."

"So you're the one who keeps her out longer than her scheduled lunch break?"

Louis jolted out of his fake confidence. He hadn't been keeping her time that much...had he? "Uhh-sorry about that. She makes for good company."

Lee clasped Louis' shoulder. "You and I can agree on that. Name's Lee, nice to meet you, Louis."

“It’s nice to meet you too, sir.” He had never met a potential girlfriends parent before, you actually need to have a girlfriend for that. It was more nerve-wracking than performing on stage.

“C’mon Lou, I wanna show you something,” Clem helped to subside the panic clearly growing on the poor boys face. Was this all too much for him? Meeting her family? “You don’t have to stay, really. If you got places to go-”

“No, no it’s fine! They seem real nice.” Louis couldn’t pinpoint the last time he was in a loving home; he was simply raised in a house, devoid of the attributes that strengthen a home and a family.

Clem didn’t dare to poke around in his private thoughts this time, if he wanted to talk about it more he would, instead she lead him up the stairs to the last door down the hall. A couple of stickers were peeling off from around the door handle. “AJ stuck those on when he was four, didn’t have the heart to remove them.”

There were no visible stickers inside the room, but instead an absolute explosion of Clementine’s personality. Purple walls with a wide array of photos, old and new, friends and family. Even some messy drawings, clearly done by AJ.

“I didn’t bring you here to show you the photos,” Her comment broke Louis out of his deep curiosity and instead got him looking at the corner by the window, where Clem was leaning against, a cedar guitar at her feet.

"Hey! It's the guitar I sold you!" Louis frantically pointed at the familiar guitar resting beside her bed, shining beneath the fresh sun.

Clem always smiled at the memory, albeit an awkward first introduction. "I haven't given it a name yet, what would you suggest?"

Louis hummed it over, his fingers stroking an invisible beard. "I reckon we shall name her...Ginny! Ginny the guitar!"

Clementine stroked the neck of the guitar. "I like it. Ginny and Perry will have to get together sometime for a mashup."

"Ohmigosh can I name their band?" Louis clapped his hands together as so many silly names flew through his head. "They're gonna take on the world!"

"Okay calm down cowboy, one step at a time." Just as Clem flopped down onto her bed, soft yellow bedsheets welcoming her home. AJ zoomed into the room, jumping on the pillow beside her head.

"Lee says we can finish putting up the decorations for the tree!"

So much for hanging out with Louis. Repressing a sigh, she flung herself back to her feet. "Alrighty kiddo. Louis, you're strong, could you help Lee carry out the last couple boxes from the garage?" If she was going down, she was gonna take the last man standing with her.

"You're roping me into this? Luckily I'm very skilled in the art of decorating." He stood proudly, flexing whatever muscle he had on his arms, despite not having put up a single Christmas decoration in his own apartment yet.

AJ left the room somehow quicker than he had entered, calling out for Lee to "get the boxes!"

Clem slowly stretched out her back, her rough night of sleeping beginning to catch up on her. "Sorry about that, I know you probably didn't come over with this in mind."

Louis waved his hand at her, brushing off the comment. "Don't worry about it, it could be nice to decorate. My family wasn't super big on it, a couple of odd decor items here and there. Could be fun to go all out." Putting up the tinsel was his favourite part, only because it was his brothers' favourite decor item.

"C'mon slowpokes, these decorations don't put themselves up!" This time it was Lee calling them from downstairs.

"We better go or we won't hear the end of it," The duo bounced down the stairs, both having to repress a laugh at AJ, who had already gotten himself tangled in a long rope of red tinsel. "Slow down kiddo, before you break something." Clem began to seek out the source of the knot, whereas Louis headed to the garage.

Be cool dude, don't say dumb shit that could get you thrown out.

The garage was a crypt of boxes, filled to the brim with furniture that hadn't been given a place yet. ‘KITCHEN’, ‘FRAGILE’, ‘MORE KITCHEN’.

Louis pushed past some of the boxes, finding where the Christmas ones were hiding. "Where did you move from again?" If he was good at anything, it was talking.

Lee had already begun to lift one small box onto his shoulder. "Savannah. I was originally a Macon boy myself. After my marriage fell apart, I thought a change was what I needed."

Louis pulled apart a box labelled ‘TINSEL’. "You were married?"

"Yup, right as I got my teaching degree. I wanted a family, she wanted to travel. I guess she was right, I don’t use my degree anymore. What about you Louis? You got family?"

Louis tried to think of an answer that wouldn’t sound so completely disheartening. "I do, we’re not as close as what you, Clem and AJ are though."

"Oh?"

"I kinda got kicked out,"

"Oh."

Great. Him and his big mouth. "It wasn't anything bad! There was just a...disagreement that my father couldn't move on from. I have a little brother too, he's a couple years older than AJ." The only positive of his family life.

"How's he doing?"

His brief silence gave Lee an unsettling answer. "I, uh...I haven't seen him for a while. Not since I left home."

"I'm sorry, that would be difficult." Just like Clem, Lee didn’t sound patronizing. Some only saw Louis as a broken man, rejected by his family. As much as it pained Louis to wonder, it seemed as if Lee knew exactly what that feeling was.

"I mean, it's not like I haven't tried. Things with my parents aren't that smooth." That was putting it mildly. His father threw some choice words when Louis took that final step out of his house. He didn't even look back.

Lee shifted the box on his shoulder, gaining a smoother grip on the cardboard and his very own thoughts. "Lemme tell you a story. After I got divorced, my parents and I had a falling out. My wife was...cheating on me and I didn't take it very well. I left before I could do anything crazy. I kept in touch with my brother for a while but then he..." Lee shook the words from his head. "People say we don't get to pick our family, but that's bullshit. I picked Clem, all those years ago I got her. Then AJ, although I wish he didn't have to lose his parents."

"Clem mentioned it the other night."

"As much as I miss my parents, I would do it all again for those two. You got a family out there Louis, sometimes it just takes a while for us to find it."

The silence wasn’t awkward, for both men connected on a personal level. Lee had lived that life, Louis was just getting over it. No new words were needed. They knew.

"C'mon guys, AJ wants to decorate the tree!" Clem called from the living room, breaking the peace. A smaller voice echoed her words, further pushing the two men to work faster.

Lee gently rolled his eyes at their eagerness. “Could you grab that box of tinsel over there? That should be the last of it,” Lee nodded to a dusty box furthest away from the other decor items before heading back into the living room.

Louis grunted a little beneath the weight of the boxes. “Probably should have gone to the gym with Mitch.” He somehow got the boxes back inside, trying to not seem as breathless as he was.

Lee was the first to open a box, pulling out a small reindeer ornament. "So Louis, Clem mentioned to me that you work in the music store across the street. You play anything?"

Louis feigned the best heart eyes he could. "My pride and glory is my fifteen thousand dollar Perzina piano. Takes up the majority of space in my room but worth it."

Clementine almost let the delicate bauble in her hands slip to the ground. "Did you just say...fifteen...thousand dollars? How...how did you get that?"

Louis began unpacking the box with AJ, finding some golden lights inside. "My parents got it for me when I was a kid, they wanted me to learn only on the best." He was unbothered by Clem's garbled gasps. A connoisseur of fine music himself, he was unphased with the number he just said.

Clementine was desperately trying to coax more information out of him. "Why did you take it with you? How would you even get it out of your house? That thing is huge!"

"It's one-hundred per cent German hand-made! I wasn't about to leave that at my parents' house!"

"I can't believe you gave me crap for the six-hundred dollar spoons! You could buy two sets of those spoons and still have some cash leftover." Clementine stood with her hands on her hips, the task of decorating now long gone from her mind.

Louis rolled his eyes so far back they started to hurt a little. "My piano has a floating soundboard, a reverse-crown soundboard and a super-stretched bass bridge. All your spoons have is a ringing noise. Oh and the fact that they don't tarnish. Whoopee."

"I don't see your piano being held in the National Museum of American History."

It had somehow become a battle of wits, to see who could know the most about their respected work trade. AJ paid them no mind, a spoon is a spoon who cares? Whereas Lee hid his smile, trying to not burst out laughing at how ridiculous the two sounded. Yet it was clear, they held a close passion for their work.

He tried oh so hard not to laugh, but a small croaked chuckle burst from Lee, gaining the attention of the two bickering adults. “Sorry, you both just seem to know so much about your work...maybe you two can open your own store someday," Lee slyly left the room, leaving Clementine and Louis to linger on that thought.

Louis chucked on the last of the tinsel, thinking of a small corner store where he and Clem could sell all their hearts desired. A historian and a musician. "You know what, I'd like that very much."

[its-love-u-asshole]

Pairing: Fushimi Saruhiko/Yata Misaki, Awashima Seri/Douhan Hirasaka 

Summary: Saruhiko would never admit to being inspired by...anyone really, but he's come to learn there are always exceptions.

Rating: T

Tags: fluff, established relationship, fushimi pov

Note: yooo ITS BEEN FOREVER!!! I assume this year will be the last sarumi fest, so I thought I should do at least a little something! I missed these two losers a lot, they're the pairing that brought me back to writing four years ago, and I owe the K fandom so much. I've met some amazing, lifelong friends, and whenever I remember my days in the fandom I just remember endless support and encouragement! I'm sad this will probably be the last K fic I'll ever write, but I'm also glad I'm sticking to my roots and delivering some plain old fluff ^^ (also seri and douhan pft I adore them) I hope you enjoy!

It starts with Douhan and Seri.

Saruhiko never would've expected it from them; out of all the people in his life who he's...somewhat comfortable calling friends, they're the two who annoy him the least. Sometimes they drag him to the gym or the mall, if for no other reason than to expose him to sunlight and fresh air...but even then, their words and the general cadence of their voices don't grate on his nerves.

He's...not entirely against being around them, is what he means.

Even when the two women began to date that didn't change, though he did avoid them during the first month. Back then, the intimate and subtle demonstrations of affection didn't compute in his mind. He couldn't make sense of them without feeling weird; a strange coiling would start in his gut and work through his body until he couldn't sit still. Like a code he couldn't crack or particularly rough work day, he couldn't figure out what it was about every delicate touch or private whisper.

It was uncomfortable, and he hated to admit that. He hated being bothered by things he didn't understand.

At least with large crowds or hot-blooded people, it was easy to explain away; they were annoying, simple as that.

Yet, like with a lot of other habits he'd clung to over the years, the instinct to shy away from understanding when it came to that level of intimacy began to be more trouble than it was worth.

There was just nothing to fuel it anymore, and besides...

Douhan and Seri simply embodied something he was grasping for, something he’d always been grasping for, though he refuses to admit it.

Back then, and now. Nothing has changed.

"I like you, Saruhiko!" Misaki says at the top of his lungs. It's too loud, the volume might make Saruhiko squint in distaste.

If it were anyone else.

Misaki had always been his exception, and he never liked to admit it.

Saruhiko's heart stops in his chest as he stares at his best friend, looking like a drowned rat on his doorstep. They'd met for dinner on the other side of town; by that time, it was a habit. No more distrust, no more fights...

Just a lightness Saruhiko never thought he'd feel again, something he's still not used to feeling.

And just when he thought he was okay with just that, just when he'd begun to ignore the nagging in his mind which always seemed to want Misaki closer and closer, the other decided to cross the distance entirely.

Saruhiko's honestly shocked the redhead was dealing with the same issues, but now there's no way to deny the possibility.

Because Misaki is here. He probably ran all the way back from his home at this ungodly hour because as always, he couldn't wait. He couldn't just...slow down.

And Saruhiko's completely powerless to do anything but cave.

When Saruhiko doesn't say anything for a while, Yata's rain-soaked features flood with red, and it’s not like that of his aura. "I-I mean, like-like you know?"

Yes, he does.

Shockingly he does.

Misaki is blushing for Saruhiko, and it's so satisfying and scary all at once.

"I probably always have but--I was waiting for you to get over yourself!"

Saruhiko almost laughs.

Of course. He could make fun of Misaki's shyness, his complete inexperience with anything resembling romance. How could he possibly know what he feels? How does he know Saruhiko deserves it?

Those are the instinctual questions which run through his mind, but they're not the last. Again, old habits don't necessarily fade away, but they lose some of their power, as all things do.

Saruhiko can't run from this, not this time.

He clicks his tongue after the longest silence in the world, and Misaki's fidgeting comes to an abrupt halt.

"Was that supposed to be a confession?" Saruhiko laughs, and for a moment, he sees the fear in Misaki's. The moment where he knows the expected defiance should be, the refusal. Saruhiko can't hold it against him, it's what part of him still yearns to do.

Yet, Saruhiko still defies expectation. "I bet I could do a better job."

It's a lie, his hands are shaking from how much of a lie it is. He's not sure what he's capable of these days, but when Misaki is looking at him like that...

He can't deny him anymore.

Misaki's eyes widen, the clear shock so priceless and satisfying, despite the uneven beating of Saruhiko's heart. Then, it's gone, replaced with a grin too bright and fiery. Lately, Saruhiko sees it a lot, but he'll probably never be used to it. Misaki scoffs, the challenge burning in his eyes. "Yeah? Prove it."

And in a matter of seconds, the doorstep is as empty as before.

Many would say he was just as bad as Seri and Douhan now. After that, things seemed to spiral. It’s been a year, but with Misaki, time seems to stretch on and on. His boyfriend has a habit of making everything they do together seem like the first time, it's a power Saruhiko has yet to understand.

But, otherwise, he's used to it now. He gets it, in a way. The intimate touches, the whispered words, he's familiar with them now, along with a hundred other small things which come with being with Misaki.

So, Seri and Douhan were no longer an issue.

For a year.

Unfortunately, here they are again, disrupting his normal stream of consciousness with a boulder, leaving him stranded and stuck without an ounce of knowledge of where to go next.

He watches from his desk as Douhan gets down on one knee, revealing a rose gold wedding band with opal in the center.

Why does Seri's desk have to be in his immediate line of sight?

Saruhiko's finger twitches as Douhan slides the ring onto Seri's finger; it's a fitting choice, given their different clans, he guesses. When it comes to accessories, Douhan always knows best. The opal reflects all the colors.

Douhan's normally neutral face is the same to any outside observe; but Saruhiko sees the gentle upward tilt of her lips, the shakiness of her usually precise hands.

It's overwhelming, but he can't look away.

Again, they've thrown him totally off center, and with what? A proposal?

Why does that bother--

He crushes the question like a glass bottle. He knows why, and he hates it. It's so pathetically vulnerable and unnecessary and yet...

He sees the way Seri blushes, the mistiness taking over her strict expression; Douhan is truly bold, coming to their place of work to make such a grand gesture.

The guys are already up and congratulating Seri loudly, but Saruhiko hears none of it.

Seri jumps into Douhan's arms and then green eyes meet him from across the room, like they know he's been watching. They always know.

Douhan gives him a knowing look, it doesn't even last a second, and then her focus is all Seri.

Saruhiko understands.

Yes, that's why the gesture bothers him, because unlike before, he does understand this. He just wishes he knew how to deal with it better.

The proposal bothers him for one reason and one reason only: he wants it.

Saruhiko wants.

And it never gets easier admitting that.

Beside him, his phone buzzes, like it tends to around this time. He knows exactly who it is before he picks it up, and it drives his new revelation home.

Misaki: Hey! We r still grabbing dinner yeah?!

Don't they always?

Saruhiko's eyes soften, he can feel it, and he can't do anything to stop them.

Saruhiko: We do every Thursday.

It doesn't stop him from being a bit of a smart-ass though.

He doesn't read the barrage of texts he gets after that, though the urge is there. His phone vibrates for a few seconds, some weak retort Saruhiko will no doubt tease his boyfriend for later.

Then, thirty seconds pass, and a reluctant buzz comes again. Saruhiko doesn't have to read it to blush, Misaki is so predictable sometimes.

There's about two hours until he's off work, not enough time for what needs to be done, but he pulls up a few websites anyways.

As far as rings go, there's a lot to weed through, some gaudy and some plain. He wrinkles his nose, and the light feeling in his chest doesn't leave him for the rest of his shift.

It takes him a while to realize it, but he finds he doesn't care what rings they have, all of them suit Misaki in Saruhiko's mind, and nothing will probably change that.

He doubts he'd try.

[kristopherwritesstuff]

Chapter 1

Touch starved wasn’t a term Jamison was accustomed to. In the Outback, touch was reserved for scrapping, if it came down to it, or quick, dirty rutting against thighs it spit slicked hands.

Hygiene wasn’t common, but neither were the diseases typically present throughout the rest of the world, transmitted through dirty holes uncleaned. They knew better.

His vocabulary wasn’t lacking, either, not with all the travelling he’d done once he was out of the Outback and off the Australian coast, but “touch starved” was simply something that had never been brought up to him before, or explained if it had. Touch wasn’t something he actively sought, either, wasn’t something he knew he wanted until he agreed to Overwatch, Mako an automatic extension to the agreement and the only one who actively had looked out for him, even after the payments had ended and he had saved enough to do what he wanted.

Even then, touch wasn’t something they had actively participated in, other than Mako holding him down by the back of his neck with a firm hand, large fingers stroking over his thighs and hole and coaxing him into calm submission, soothing his jittery anxious energy.

There was nothing soft about it, though. Nothing caring, although Jamison knew Mako cared. Nothing just gentle and light, just a firm roughness that was used to get the Junker to shut up and sit still instead of getting caught up in his own head, going crazy again, another bomb spree meant to kill himself and everyone around him.

Touch wasn’t something he was aware he wanted, needed, until he met Jesse McCree; thick dark hair and a thicker body, relaxed and charming and handsome in a way Jamison hadn’t really seen in far too long, at least in a way that interested him. He didn’t hide his interest well, either; all wide golden eyes sober and calm without the anxiety of the Outback to have them flickering nervously (although they still did, when Mako wasn’t around, on edge and giggles threatening to bubble up his throat), arms crossed around his hollow stomach and deadly still, silent as he watched. Quiet as a damn mouse.

Too big for a mouse, though, and too dirty, too twitchy, too nervous, too dangerous for one. That’s what people think of rats, after all. Dirty and twitching and dangerous. They thought of Jamison the same; that’s how he got his name, earned it: just a rat in the junk, dirty and twitching and dangerous, and a part of him, niggling the back of his brain, scratching deep in his gut, told him that’s what everyone else thought, too, at the Watchpoint. Told him they hated him, mistrusted him, didn’t want him, would just stab him in the back and leave him to rot.

It was different with McCree, though. The cowboy, man, despite his low, whiskey rough voice and overbearing demeanour, was surprisingly warm and gentle, easy laughs on his lips and a wink in his eyes for practically everyone. He made everyone feel welcome, even Jamison and his bodyguard, and even though everyone had a soft smile and a kind word for the young, lanky man, it only really felt genuine from Jesse. He'd ruffle the dirty blonde mess on Jamison's head, would swing his arm around the man's shoulders and nudge him close under the watchful eye of the huge bodyguard usually nearby, and always had a kind word and light greeting whenever he spotted Jamison around the base, and it never failed to have the man softening up, relaxing, yearning for their interactions more and more.

He didn't confess this, never said anything, but that didn't stop Mako bringing it up two months into their joining of Overwatch, voice low and chest deep as he watches his boss fuss and fidget in front of the mirror, scrubbing at the ash and soot imbedded under his eyelashes like makeup.

"...Going to see the cowboy?"

"Roadie--"

"Gonna tell him?"

He's being glared at in the mirror, just the softest dusting of pink on Jamison's cheeks, and Mako just gives a small shrug. He could read him better than anyone, sometimes better than Jamison himself, but even the crush was clear, probably even to Jesse himself. Jamison just had trouble keeping himself to himself, a good counter to the stoic man he had employed and befriended.

Other than the glare, there's no answer, and Jamison returns to the mirror, fussing and huffing and scowling before giving up five minutes later.

He'd showered, tried to clean up a little, but the soot was still in awkward places, like under his eyes and in the curves of his earlobe and under his nails, but the rest was fairly clean, hair now a soft, fluffy mess on his head, light and pretty without ash and dirt and grease shaping it messily into flaming spikes. He almost looks good, especially with a clean pair of shorts on, loose tank top a few sizes too big with his unhealthy lank, and he straightens himself up a little, brows furrowed as he fidgets. Even his arm and leg have been cleaned.

"...You look fine."

Ignored again, other than a quick glance in the mirror, eyes thankful before Jamison turns and hobbles out the room with quick ease, good practise after years of using the peg leg.

Jesse's at the target range, and Jamison can't help but wonder why. His aim is damn near perfect, if not completely so, in the field, let alone against the robot dummies lazily patrolling around. He hears Jamison approach but says nothing, doesn't move, just fires another shot as the blonde man watches from behind him, chewing up his lips and trigger finger twitching with each shot.

"...Are ya gonna join me, darlin'?" The smooth, low voice makes Jamison start, fingers jerking, a bomb being sent flying towards one of the dummies and exploding on impact, taking out half of its head.

"Easy, 'rat. Didn't mean to startle ya." Jesse is turning, gun in its hollister at his hip, and easy grin on his face and a cigar, as usual, between his lips. "Haven't seen you all mornin'."

"Busy," is what falls from Jamison's mouth, body falling still under Jesse's gaze as the man eyes him up and down curiously.

"Nice to see yer takin' care of yourself. Didn't clean up 'specially for training, did ya?"

Jamison just nods after a slight pause if hesitation, biting his tongue for once, babble ceased in front of Jesse. If the pause is noticed, he doesn't say anything, just nods back, grinning, and takes a low drag from his cigar, exhaling the smoke almost lazily. It makes Jamison's nose twitch, watching the smoke swirl and twist in the still air, mouth dry at the now-familiar scent, and Jesse just hums at the red tips of his ears before he turns to empty his gun into the broken dummy currently whirling around in circles before collapsing from the sudden attack.

"Ya want a puff?"

"Nah, mate, Roadie says it's no good on my lungs, reckons I'll end up like him if I do." He gives a nervous laugh (at least Jesse thinks it's nervous, it's hard to tell with Jamison) and shrugs, almost a little helpless. "Don't like the taste, either. Smell ain't bad, but reckon that's all the smoke I've been sniffing over the years."

His voice isn't as high and crazed, like this. Still lilted up, but less excited, less shouting. Still a slight roll of the r's, but...it's calmer. Less Junkrat, more Jamison.

"Sure, sugar. Whatever ya want." Jesse shrugs, slumping down up against the wall, and Jamison slowly sinks down next to him, legs pulled to his chest, metal arm wrapped around them as he lets his gun rest next to him and flesh fingers idly rubbing the floor, careful not to touch Jesse. It felt good, being this close to him, being able to sit with the cowboy while he smoked and sent Jamison's head reeling with the smell of cigar smoke and unwashed leather and something earthy, and he simply rests his cheek against his knee, eyes flicking between his hand and Jesse's face. Jesse just keeps on puffing his smoke, head tipped back and hat dragged over his face a little, and it gives Jamison plenty of opportunity to stare and admire, stomach soft and warm in his gut. He's seen the old pictures of Jesse, back in his Blackwatch days, back even before that, and he could easily compare them to the man before him now, mentally noting the differences.

Broader. Chubbier, is what Jamison likes to think, because he likes the softness of Jesse's personality enough he wants it to match his physical appearance. Taller, obviously. A proper beard on his chin and jaw, although a little rough and patchy in some places, like he's had to shave without a mirror and it had grown back awkward. Robotic arm. Plain flannel shirt, a deep blue today. A low lazy voice that instantly sets people at ease.

Still handsome, though. Still attractive enough to claim anyone he wanted, cowboy get up or not. He just didn’t seem to want anyone.

"Can I help ya, sugar?"

Jamison flicks his eyes away quickly, trying to focus on how long he'd been staring, mouth dry. All he gets is blank, though, blank and Jesse's tanned skin and scruffy beard and chapped lips curled around the fat cigar nearly finished.

"Jamison?"

"I'm fine. It's fine. Don't worry, mate, just lost in thought, ain't no reason to worry." He can feel Jesse looking at him, curious and slightly amused, and he shuffles into himself, hiding away, trying to be smaller than he actually is. Trying to seem like a mouse instead of a rat.

"Sure, darlin'. Sure." There's a pause, a moment of relaxed quiet, Jamison's ears burning. "...Ain't gonna train? I could join ya."

There's a slight lilt to his tone that makes Jamison want to flush but he pushes it back, just shakes his head, stumbling to his feet. "Nah. Should probably go see what's cooking."

"Alright, whatever you want. I'll see ya later, yeah?"

Jamison fumbles, tongue thick in his mouth, hand fumbling to grab his gun.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure, mate."

He's scampering away before Jesse can say anything else, but he can feel his eyes on his back, burning into him like he'd just pressed his cigar there.

Jamison is so fucked.

[saccharinedanganimagines]

Accidental kiss (crush) with Shuichi, Kiibo, Kokichi, Amami, and Hinata?

You guys are killing me with how amazing these prompts are!

Rantaro’s imagine turned out a little different from the others, but I hope that’s alright!

~ Mod Ouma

Shuichi, Kiibo, Kokichi, Amami and Hinata Accidentally Smooching their Crush!

Shuichi Saihara

He’s always mindful of everything around him.

Moving away from an object that could potentially make him or someone else trip is second nature to him.

Quickly moving out of they way when someone’s close to running into him is easy.

But he stops being situationally aware whenever he’s focused on a particularly difficult case.

And adding to that, you were next to him.

Both of you were looking at a puzzling cold case. Everyone turned out okay in the end, but the suspect was still unknown. 

After quiet few minutes of thinking, he just discovered an essential part of his case. How could he have been so blind!

He needs to tell someone so he could get his thoughts straight. 

He quickly turns to you, who was just as focused on the clip board Shuihi had.

He disn’t realize how close you two were sitting together.

Until his lips smack against yours.

He immediately jolts back and scoots to the end of the couch.

“U-Uh! I’m so so sorry! I-I didn’t- I w-wasn’t trying to harass you, I swear!”

Tenko’s spiels on degenerate male behavior comes back to him, he gets really guilty and flustered.

He’s officially a tomato now! 

He’ll be a bit more awkward and jumpy with you for the next few days.

He tries not to stare at your lips and daydream.

Kiibo/K1-B0

You were at professor Iidabashi’s lab, accompanying Kiibo who was getting repairs today.

It was nothing major but it was last minute. You two were hanging out when his torso and neck locked on him. It was a good thing he was able to call the professor to come get you both.

you make pleasant small talk with Iidabashi, becoming his assistant for the day.

“So you’re the fabled S/O! I’m so elated to finally meet one of the major contributing factors to Kiibo’s emotional well-being!

“A-As a friend of course! Professor!”

You were just about to finish up the impromptu repair when the professor accidentally clipped the wrong wire.

You were standing next to Kiibo, who was sitting on top of a work table. 

Something in his joints spazzed out and he turned to you, and collided against your face.

It barely registers when you two kiss, he automatically reboots the moment you were close to his face.

Professor Iidabashi wasn’t quite sure what to do either.

So, you’re there, trapped under the robot boy for a few seconds until he boots up again.

“A-Are you alright?! My apologies, I didn’t know why that happened..”

Kiibo only has a vague idea of what a kiss truly is, but he’s concerned that he hurt you or did the lip equivalent of a headbutt.

The Professor merely chuckles and explains what just happened.

“O-Oh dear! S/O, i’d like to apologize for m-my forwardness!”

As you two leave the lab, the professor sees you off with a light tease.

“Kiibo, take care, you too Miss S/O! Oh! And please do try to to keep your canoodling private!”

“Professor!!!!”

Kokichi Ouma

This is one of the only times Kokichi’s mischief back fires on him.

But does it really count as that if he secretly had a crush on you?

He was setting up a prank that involved using a short but unstable step ladder, a bucket of glitter and confetti. 

He rigged the classroom so that whenever someone takes a seat, the ceiling opens and showers them with color.

He came in really early that day and you caught him.

You decided to give him a taste of his own medicine

But you didn’t think he’d actually jump when you suddenly call him out.

He falls right into your arms, knocking the wind out of your lungs as he collides against you. 

He softens the blow by moving his arms away from the two of you. This causes him to wrap his arms around your waist upon impact.

He’s quick enough to prevent himself from butting heads with you.

But that causes him to indirectly kiss you.

Coincidentally, you standing before a desk and you’re pushed onto it.

Confetti and glitter rains from the ceiling as you two take a few seconds to register what just happened.

Kokichi will pull back, but he does it so gently. 

His face turns red and blank for a split second before he goes back to acting like normal, jovial Kokichi.

“Oh, do you actually have a crush on me, S/O? You seemed like you were enjoying that kiss~”

“How do you know that this wasn’t the main prank~?”

But once he excuses himself to go to the washroom, he locks himself in a stall, trying to wipe the glitter, confetti and blush off his face.

Rantaro Amami

He was reading in the school’s library when he spotted you talking with students he wasn’t familiar with. 

He shrugs it off at first. Must be new friends.

But then he starts to suspect that something’s wrong when you get backed into a wall. You looked uncomfortable with talking to them.

Nope, he ain’t having none of that.

“Hey. Is there something wrong here? Are they bothering you, S/O?”

He straight up glares at the students, silently daring them to stay.

They’re barely intimidated, they continue to try and hit on you.

Rantaro steps in between you and the students. 

It’s been minutes and politely persuading them to leave you wasn’t working. So he tries a different approach.

“You can’t date them, she’s my girl/boyfriend.”

The students jeer at him, calling out his lie.

He was just about to walk away with you, but then they insult you. 

“Fine. I didn’t really want to kiss that anyways.”

The darkest look crosses his face. They didn’t.

He’s angry at them, but instead of talking, he decides to fool them.

He blocks your face from their line of vision, cupping his hands around your face. Spite was blocking him from hesitation.

He moves to kiss you on the cheek and make it look like it was on the lips.

It worked.

But that’s because you turned your head the last second and accidentally made it into a  r e a l  kiss.

wHEEZE.

His eyes bug out for a moment, but then he breaks off the kiss to tell the bullies off.

“S/O’s amazing and they will never. Ever. Date scumbags like you.”

He takes your hand and steps out of the library with you. The moment you’re both out, he tries to merge with the wall, covering his warm face.

“That.. Wasn’t right for me to do. I-I’m sorry, S/O.. I let my feelings get ahead of me.”

You spent the next 20 minutes comforting him and reassuring him that he was brave and you appreciated his efforts.

Hajime Hinata

Hiyoko knew Hajime had a crush on you and was threatening to tell you before he could.

“I should start calling you HaHa-Hajime! Do you seriously think laughing and stuttering at every single thing she says would get her to like you?”

Now normally, this wouldn’t faze him. He always found some form of compromise against her blackmail- usually through sweets.

But Hiyoko was so insistent on reminding Hajime of his incompetent love life that his patience had worn thin over time.

It got to the point where Hajime’s voice raises a pitch as he’s dead-set on denying everything Hiyoko says about you and him.

And then, they spot you approaching from the other side of the cafeteria.

The scariest and widest grin stretches across the dancer’s face.

Hajime’s face becomes whiter that Komaeda’s hair.

“Hey S/OOO!!!”

Hajime’s heart does a somersault as he quickly rushes to you.

You have never seen him so alarmed before.

“I have something to tell you!

No. No They can’t know yet!

He suddenly gains the ability to parkour and glide through the tables like an expert.

“Hajime….!”

He just needs to take you out- Er, take you outside!

“Liiiiikeeesss…!”

He was so intent on getting to you fast that he trips.

You try to catch him, you do,

And you two accidentally kiss.

The few people in the cafeteria 

You explain that you couldn’t really hear Hiyoko over Hajime’s storming and the clatter in the cafeteria.

He lets out the longest sigh ever. 

But now, you bore witness to his panic and Hiyoko has even better blackmail material against him.

.. Hopefully one day he’ll be able to kiss you, minus the panic.

[nayutai]

Play Time

Prompt: Jin gets jealous over you being too close to Jimin

Word Count: 2,124

The second Jin swipes the hotel key to open our door, I burst through it and make a bee line for the California king bed that I know awaits me. I kick off my converse and immediately face plant in the mountain of pillows with a groan of pure satisfaction. A massive weight crashes on top of me and my limbs flail wildly as I attempt to remove my sweaty boyfriend from my person.

“Oh my God! Get off me, you ogre!” I yell as I struggle to swat at him. “You’re all sweaty and stinky! You know how I feel about sweat”

The boys are fresh off yet another successful concert in Japan but, unfortunately for me, the showers at the venue had stopped working so everyone except Jimin had to come back to the hotel for a shower. I just know that Jin trying to crush me into the mattress is payback for practically sitting on top of Jimin in the van on the way back to the hotel but I had to do what I had to do to survive the stench of six smelly men in a confined space. It’s not my fault that Jimin moved faster than everyone else and got to shower.

I open my mouth to continue yelling at Jin but instead he finally rolls off of me and stands next to the bed. I pin him down from my spot on the bed with my most vicious glare but he looks entirely unaffected by my anger. The bastard just smirks and grabs a handful of my ass through my leggings, giving it a good squeeze. He knows how much that gets to me. Why can’t he ever play fair?

“Shower with me”

“No” he cocks an eyebrow up at my defiance. “Fine, but only because water conservation is important. Save the environment and all that jazz”

“Your total lack of recycling says you don’t actually care about the environment at all, babe” he retorts, breaking out into that windshield wiper laugh that is just so…him as I push him towards the en suite bathroom.

“Just get naked already, smelly”

He pulls his shirt off and the temperature in the room seems to rise with every inch of exposed skin that my greedy eyes take in. Jin is really an impressive specimen. A true testament to what a fuck ton of hours in the gym can do for you. He’s beautiful from head to toe. I bite my lip at the way his shoulders flex when he reaches over to turn on the shower. The way his jeans hang off of his narrow hips to reveal the band of his Armani boxers has my head spinning. I quickly strip out of my clothes, enjoying the look of hunger that slides over Jin’s face when he turns his attention back to me.

His eyes never leave my body as he quickly rids himself of the last of his clothing. He holds his hand out to me and we step into the shower together. We hop right back out, yelling, when the scalding water hits our skin. He fiddles with the knobs again and we step back into the shower. I reach for the bottle of lavender shampoo that the staff had stocked for us when Jin grabs my wrist, halting my movements.

“Not yet babe” he whispers against the shell of my ear as he pulls my hips back into his. “You really hurt my feelings earlier so I think I’ve earned some play time”

My breath hitches in my throat. Jin is normally pretty laid back but whenever he mentions play time I know that his more domineering side has come out to play. My mind wanders back to the last time we had “play time”. We’d had a huge fight. I was in the wrong and we both knew it but I was much too stubborn to back down and admit defeat. Our yelling had reached a fever pitch, driving the rest of his bandmates out of the dorm in fear of what was about to happen. He quite literally fucked me into submission that day and it took another day and a half before I trusted my legs enough to get out of bed.

A shiver runs down my spine from the memory as Jin crowds me into a corner of the spacious shower, caging me in with his arms on either side of my body. He dips his head down to bite and kiss along my neck until he reaches my ear. His teeth latch onto the lobe, tugging slightly before he releases it.

“You really hurt my feelings, baby” I’m so focused on the way his full lips move that I don’t notice him grabbing the loofah until he’s lathering it up with his soap.

The scent of sandalwood and musk that I’ve come to associate with the handsome man in front of me wraps around me. I can’t help but pout because I want to play; however, it seems like Jin has decided to actually shower. My pout is replaced with confused elation as he gently circles the soapy loofah across my chest before working his way down to my breasts. A gasp escapes me as my sensitive nipples are tortured by the material.

“Arms up” I waste no time obeying his instructions, looking on as he continues his ministrations down to my wrists and down my sides.

The arousal building inside me is starting to become unbearable. I squeeze my thighs together in an attempt to find some relief. Jin freezes, eyes locked on my thighs. He gives me a tut of disapproval and I groan internally.

“Did I give you permission to do that?” I shake my head no. “Use your words, y/n”

“No”

“No what?”

“No, sir”

“That’s better. On your knees” he commands and I look from him to the stone floor of the shower. He can’t mean for me to kneel on this stone. “Now” okay so I guess he was serious about this.

I carefully sink to floor of the shower and it’s just as uncomfortable as I knew it would be. I look on curiously as Jin turns to fiddle with the shower knobs again. A squeal flies out of my mouth as water suddenly drenches me from above.

“What the fuck?!” I just know that a pipe above my head has burst and I move to escape. My movement is thwarted by Jin’s hands on my shoulders, keeping me in place as I protested. He points upwards and my eyes follow, noticing for the first time a set of shower heads directly above us. Oh.

I relax my posture and Jin removes his hands from my shoulders to stroke his hardened cock. My mouth practically waters. If I could suck his dick for the rest of my life, I would. My fingers twitch against my thighs as I fight the urge to take him into my hands and do just that. As it is, Jin is going to make me work my ass off before he lets me cum so I’d rather not prolong my suffering.

“Do you want to suck my cock, baby girl” his voice is husky and deeper than normal and it’s all I can do to keep still.

“Yes, sir. Please let me suck your cock.”

“Put your hands behind you back and open your mouth.” He demands. “If you touch me, I won’t let you cum at all tonight”

Fuck.

Now he’s just being mean. He knows how much I like to roll his balls around in my hands when I suck him off. This is going to be hard. Nevertheless, I ball my hands into fists and cross my wrists behind me. Jin nudges my knees apart with one of his feet. I curse him internally as that was my only outlet for relief from the heavy weight of desire that has settled like a stone in my nether regions.

With a huff, I drop my jaw and Jin taps his erection against my tongue a few times before he slowly slides it deeper into my eager mouth. The water is still cascading down on us which makes this even more of a challenge, but quitters never win and I hate to lose. Both of his hands are fisted in my hair as he holds himself there. I swallow around him and the strangled groan he lets out sends a fresh wave of arousal over me. His eyes are clenched shut, head thrown back as he tries to control himself.

When he opens his eyes again to gaze down at me once more, I nearly pass out. He looks sinfully amazing. Water caresses every muscle on his body and his hair is plastered to his forehead. His biceps flex periodically as he works himself in my mouth. He reaches down and sweetly cups my cheek before switching gears and pinching my nose closed. The sudden lack of oxygen makes me gag around his dick which he’s shoved to the back of my throat. Tears mix with the water still pouring down over me as stars dance across my vision.

Jin pulls out of my mouth and I greedily suck in all the oxygen I can. He hoists me up against the wall with my legs wrapped around his slim waist. He attacks my neck, licking, biting, and sucking at the skin there as he grinds his erection against my soaked center. I grab his head in my hands and yank him up so I can kiss him. Consequences be damned. He groans into my mouth, rutting his hips against mine feverishly.

“Fuck I really wanted to drag this out but I can’t wait any longer” he mumbles against my lips before lining himself up with my entrance.

My mouth opens in a silent gasp as he slowly pushes inside. He sets a steady pace that has my nails digging into the broad expanse of his shoulders. He hisses at the pain as he drives into my wet heat that much harder. A particularly deep thrust knocks the breath right out of my lungs and I’m struggling to breathe once more.

“Shit! R-right there.” I moan out “You’re so deep”

He just grunts as he slides his cock out until only the head is left inside me before slamming back in. The noise that leaves my mouth is far from human but I’m beyond caring as my orgasm hits me like a freight train. My walls spasm around Jin and it’s more than he can take as he empties himself into me.

Without pulling out of me, Jin carries me to the bench inside the shower and sits down with me in his lap. My eyes drift closed as he kisses all over my face.

“Are you okay, babe?” He questions and I nod my head yes as I rest my head on his shoulder.

If it weren’t for the water that we finally notice has gone frigid, I would’ve been content to stay there all night. Jin finally pulls himself out of me and I wince as I feel the evidence of our activities drip out of me. He transfers me to the bench next to him before quickly cleaning me up, bathing the both of us in record time, before turning the icy water off and disappearing out of the shower.

He returns seconds later with a towel wrapped around his waist and another in his hands which he proceeds to drape around me before he carries me back to the bedroom and sits me down on the bed. I’m quickly patted dry and one of his t-shirts is pulled over my head as I struggle not to fall asleep. The smell of one of my hair products has me opening my tired eyes just in time to feel Jin begin to work the product through my wet curls with a comb just as seen me do countless times over the past two years that we’ve been dating. I nearly cry out of love for this man when he plugs in my hair dryer and proceeds to dry my hair.

When he’s done, he pulls my hair into a high bun and we finally crawl beneath the covers. He wraps his arms around me and I snuggle up as close as I can. Jin is knocked out in seconds and my eyes roam over his face. I carefully run the tip of my finger down his nose, melting when he nuzzles his face into my shoulder.

“I love you” With a kiss to his temple, I close my own eyes and join Jin in a peaceful slumber.

[gutterdreams]

In A Little While PT 2 [Billy Hargrove]

PART ONE

Disclaimer: I do not own Stranger Things or the GIF used below. Word Count: 1.7 k Masterlist 

Not sure what to make of this*

She still had the light green crayon clutched in her drool soaked hand. Billy noticed the color poking out of Eve’s grip as she laid like a broken starfish on the Berber carpet in Marshall’s basement, sniffling her way out of a temper tantrum. In her defense, this was her first weekend away from her bedroom and with him in his makeshift place. Eve hadn’t slept well the night before, Friday, waking up constantly on the pull out couch and looking around in the dark tentatively. Billy had a feeling his thunder snores kept her up as well and it only motivated him to find his own place where she could have her own room and he would be the only one on the pull-out. At first, Billy figured he would spend his nights in Marshall’s basement for about a month or so while you worked through whatever emotional roadblock you were sitting in front of. If there was a possibility of this separation being permanent, Billy hadn’t realized it yet. Billy swallowed his unimpressed sigh with a last sip from a warm beer. His eyes glanced away from his upset two year old on the floor, one of her bare while the other still donned a red and yellow sock. He had no idea where in the last few hours the left sock had gone. Billy studied the mess they had made on the small oak table that Marshall and him had carried down in preparation of his weekend with Eve. A pack of twenty four crayons was split open, wax utensils everywhere. Eve’s paper was colored with a reckless scribble of different primary colors. She was just about to move onto secondary shades when she flipped out. Billy’s beer can was sitting finished beside the pink sip cup that you had packed for her in an overnight bag. Eve had lifted the plastic drink cup up to her Dad’s face while he was halfheartedly drawing spiders on his loose-leaf, silently asking for more milk with her eyes. When he said that she could have water instead, Eve erupted. 

That was four minutes ago and Billy had just sat in the grey fold out chair and pretended to ignore her. This was all part of the age, he had to tell himself, it was not personal. “Are you ready to come back and talk?” Billy kept his voice straight and asked between her hiccuped sniffles. He couldn’t make out much of her face from where he was sitting, but he could tell it was stained with tears and run away snot.  He hated the conversation part after, explaining to her the situation and it’s resolution. It came naturally to you where as he always felt like he was guessing and accidentally fucking her up somehow. It wasn’t as if Billy’s childhood had equipped him with a guide for parenting success. “No.” Stubborn, just like her father who gave her her curly hair that made her ponytails look like they belonged on a cartoon pig’s bottom, Eve grumbled to the speckled ceiling. “Do you want to go on a time out?” Truthfully, he thought that was what her freak out was. Billy suggested the break thinking it would help her large emotions pass. It wasn’t meant as punishment. As an adult, Billy had to out himself on time outside frequently. “No.” Again, she said perfectly coherently from the ground. “Well, you let me know when you’re ready to play nice.” With a soft groan, Billy told her and pushed himself off from the uncomfortable chair. He left the crayons everywhere on the table for them to both to clean up after and carried his beer can with him, planning to throw it out in exchange for a new, colder one. “I miss mom.” Leaning her face into the carpet, Eve whined, saliva bubbling from her small heart shaped lips. This was the longest she could recall ever being away from you. Of course, there had been the week you and Billy drove to San Diego for a friend’s wedding, but Eve was only eight months then. That time, you were the blubbering mess. Billy felt like he would drive five miles and you would be asking him to stop at the next pay phone to call your mom and make sure everything was fine. “You’ll see her tomorrow.” From across the room, he assured her. “I want her now!” Eve demanded, throwing her crayon holding fist down into her overall clad tummy. “Well, you have one more sleep.” The can crushed easily in his hand and he dropped it down in the formerly empty black can. “I want her now! I want mom!” “Eve…” His voice let off one warning, making her given name sound as if it was many letters longer than it actually was. “Daddy, I want mom!” She was a few more whines away from round two of the temper tantrum that he thought he had already survived. They always tugged on his heart even when they were at the peak annoying. “Well, too bad.” Billy grumbled childishly and walked over to where she was tossing her head from side to side. He sat down slowly beside her, legs extended in front of him under his grey sweatpants. Billy placed a hand under each of her arms to pick her up, planning to change his approach and comfort her in a tight, long hug against his chest instead of sitting it out. This was a big change for both of them and, if he required some sensitive care, he had to give her the same. Instead of giving into her father’s touch, Eve began to kick out her legs and made her body a wiggling brick - impossible to pick up. It frustrated Billy instantly and he stopped even trying to pick her up. “Eve, you’re really hurting my fucking feelings!” His temper was lost and emotions that he hadn’t even processed in his brain were released over top of her protests. In under a nanosecond, Billy felt like an idiot and wished that he could punch himself all the way through the face. The last time he swore around her she was still just a diaper clad potato, yawning against your shoulder on the porch while you watched him stubbornly fiddle with the BBQ that you had inherited second hand. “I miss mom!” The little girl wailed, proving her lungs were bigger than anyone would have imagined. “I know. Me too.” Soft as a feather filled pillow, Billy cooed to her and met her frustration with his own. He fixed one hand behind her head and pat her frizzy hair lightly until she curled into his touch and was using his thigh like a security blanket. Eve wiped her sticky face against the comfortable material of his pants and whimpered into it, releasing the crayon in order to hold the material of his clothes closer to her face. Billy just kept patting her head down to her back, offering some support as he silently wished you were here with him. He missed when it was the two of you on the floor, watching Eve find interest in every little fleck of for around her. When she was first born, Billy freaked out over how expensive everything was, but he quickly found that you two didn’t need to go on date nights to the movies and Eve didn’t require fancy toys. You two sat up on the couch with one another, entertained by how genuinely fascinated the little girl was with how the corner of coffee tables tasted and the way bubble wrap popped under her small feet. Billy wished he could go back in time and tell himself relax, tell himself to breathe, that nothing would ever be that perfect again. Once Eve calmed down, Billy decided to take the road less active. He helped her out of her overalls and an old Henley that had once been Max’s and let her drown in the same white undershirt of his that she wore to bed the night before. Eve snuggled up on the pull out mattress with her stuffed rabbit, one grey floppy ears perpetually crusty from being sucked on nightly, while Billy wrestled with the VCR and TV. They would watch a movie instead of task themselves with anything more stimulating. Mentally, Billy thought they would have the best weekend together. They didn’t need you. He would feed her throughout the day (nothing microwaved), go to the park every day, and laugh every other minute. Instead, it had been hard on both his and Eve’s hearts. They needed to just veg. He found Milo & Otis in Marshall’s movie selection that mostly consisted of R rated comedies. Yawning before it even came on, Billy headed over to the bed they shared and climbed in, still clothed, behind Eve. Right away, she leaned into his chest while popping a red grape into her both from the plastic dish Marshall’s girlfriend had supplied her from the upstairs kitchen. Billy kissed the top of her head and made room under his arm for her to cuddle closer. He took in the first two minutes of the movie, but naturally drifted off to another place mentally. At first, his brain went through an upcoming project at work on Monday. Having his own company was a twenty-four seven job, but in a way, being a single parent at the moment helped him to slow down. He couldn’t work every weekend now or else he would never see Eve. When he contemplated the silver lining of the separation, Billy just thought of you. A small smile curled into his face as Eve giggled at the puppy on the screen, but he went right back to wondering what you were doing, where you were, and if you were wondering about him as well. “Daddy?” Eve’s small voice, fresh from swallowing a cold grape, shook him out of his daydreams. He looked down and saw her head leaning back and her big blue eyes waiting for his attention. “Hmm?” “Lay down now?” She asked, looking to use his long legs and firm torso as her own play structure to fumble over. “Please?” Right at the end, Eve remembered to throw in. Slowly, Billy relaxed and agreed to her request as he wanted to whenever he could. He scooted behind her and pressed her shoulders into the couch’s back. Eve wasted no time making herself comfortable. She crawled between his knees, eyes never leaving the movie playing, and then laid down flat against his chest as if he was her very own personal chair. The grape dish was by his feet, forgotten by the little girl. Her sticky fingers gripped his knee while the other played in the grape dish mindlessly. This wasn’t what Billy wanted. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, but as he felt Eve’s head push into his stomach, he knew it could have been worse. If she was okay, he could be okay too.

@daddyslittlemunster @4-a-m @stephaniecats @embraceyoface @kaliforniacoastalteens @hilda-lolz @duck-mother-1999

@ineedacureforme @characterobsessed@characterobsessed

@stevesharrlngtons @can-youmoveyourseatup @penguinlover15 @mistressofmanyfandoms

@desertsivan1995

@princessnancy

[logan-are-you-okay]

Just a day at the hospital

It’s been three days... three days since Chase was stabbed by that man. They caught the guy, and apparently there was recordings on that block that caught him saying ‘How’s this for Bro Average?’ Guess he just didn’t like the show... Good thing MARKIPLIER TV has two episodes recorded of a show before they go on, so people won’t be missing their episode this week. Sadly, it’s also been three days since he has last seen Bing. The nurses keeping asking if he can come back, but Chase keeps rejecting him or he’s just asleep when he comes by. The only ones he allows back are his daughter and son. However, Chase keeps screaming whenever he’s asleep. Being woken up by his nightmares, the doctors always ask what’s wrong... but he never tells them. Why should he? It doesn’t injure his physical health so they don’t need to worry about it, right?

Slowly Chase rolls over on his side, trying his best not to yank the things that where helping him breathe. The pain in his chest wasn’t as bad anymore, it just stung and pinched when the stitches where being pulled apart. The worst thing of this all, is that when he’s alone... he’s left to his thoughts. He can’t stop them, it just happens whenever he hears dead noise.

“Sir, one of your family members are here. May I send them in?” A nurse asks as they cracked the door to the room. The hospital here was different then the ones at home. Usually they had curtains to block off each section for each room, but this was a Medicare center. It was almost like the top ER that you had to go to if your injury was super severe. Also the kids where at school right now, the only family member that lives close by was someone he’s never ever met. So... who could it be?

“Yes, you can...” He says with a groggy voice. The IV fluid was really making his mouth dry, and the more he moved his chest, the more it would hurt. God this was so stupid, hooked up to machines for something that he should be able to do on his own. God what was wrong with him? Suddenly the door opens, then promptly shuts. Chase slowly sits up grunting as he goes along, once he’s able to he looks up at the door and his eyes widen. Bing, fucking, Iplier... right there in front of him.

“Sorry, Bro. They wouldn’t let me in any other way.” He says casually. How many times had he tried to get in here and he just... rejected him?

“What did you tell them... which member anyway?” He asks timidly, the tension in the room you couldn’t even cut with a chainsaw.

“That I was your husband.” Chase’s stomach turns into knots as his throat feels like a lump got stuck in it. Why...why of all things would he say that?

“O-Okay then...” Bing then walks over to the chair right next to the bed and pulls it up closer. Chase looks down and plays with his hands. His head was still screaming to fucking run! But his heart kept screaming, IM GONNA GO RUN UP MTN EVEREST WANNA JOIN!? God if his heart goes any faster, you’ll be able to see it through his skin.

“So...” Bing asks, probably trying to start a conversation. Chase just bites his lip as he tries so desperately to stay looking away from Bing. Every single part of him was screaming his name.

“Why do you have to stay here for so long?” Bing says while looking directly at Chase. Desperately Chase tries his hardest to not look. There is no point whatsoever.

“The guy... h-he stabbed through my rib cage and it nicked my lung I guess...” He says while slowly lowering himself against the back of the bed. This was so stupid...

“Well, what did you tell them about all those scars that you had?” Chase’s eyes widen as he gets asked. Did he know that they asked him that? Or was he trying to get it off of him of what they actually are?

“T-the scars?” He says kind of high pitch trying his hardest on what he actually told them. They asked when they where wheeling him in out of surgery while he was on loopy gas so that he would tell the truth. However, he had a strong mental capacity and still managed to lie about it.

“I-I said that they where from b..Bro Average shoots.” Technically is wasn’t a lie, it is what he told them! Just... not what actually happened.

“Ah, Alright then. How about you tell the truth to me?” Chase Quickly swallows looking at the opposite side of the room as he fiddles with his necklace that his son made him while he’s been at the hospital. It had a shark tooth on it, and the line was covered in red and green. Somehow it was able to bring him peace as he did.

“I-I don’t understand w...what you mean...” He says very timidly, not wanting to talk anymore. However he’s met with pressure being added onto the bed right next to him. Now this really made Chase’s heart go a bajillion Miles a minute! Being questioned already being thrown, and then adding into the mix of Have Bing sit next to him. Instantly his body tenses up as he feels Bing place a hand on his back rubbing small circles.

“I’m not stupid Chase. I went through every single one of your ‘Bro Average’ videos trying to find which stunts could’ve given you that scar on your eye, or the scars that I saw on your chest not to long ago.” Chase instinctively pulls up the covers that he had up to his chest, almost as if trying to hide them out of embarrassment.

“Also I payed very close attention seeing scar after scar show up in different places as the series went on.” Bing slowly starts lifting up the Medical night gown as his fingers softly trail up Chase’s skin which makes Chase bite his hand to prevent from making any noise. He has never had a man, let alone his crush touch him... if you don’t count that kiss, BUT THAT’S ALL DIFFERENT SHIT! Chase can hear Bing sigh as he sees... even more scars. Chase can start to feel the guilt rushing inside of him as he screws his eyes shut trying to stop the images from passing by.

“...I don’t w-wanna talk about it...” He says while his hands dug into the medical pillow that his head was on. There was no point in any of this, telling... who’d believe him? He’s a fucking guy and no one thinks women can do such horrible things...

“Can you j...just turn the IV up... I don’t want to think about this a-anymore..” he can feel the movement in the end shift as Bing looks from the IV to him.

“Chase... the IV’s almost at 11... you could die...” Bing says with his voice full of concern. Chase soon lets tears fall, how can he act like this? He’s being so selfish, turning it up to 11 would kill you... tears start to escape his eyes as he thinks about that. Stacy’s words echo in the back of his mind, she’s right. Every single little word that she’s ever muttered to him. He’s an idiot... a bitch... a pussy... a cunt... stupid... horrible father... selfish... a faggot... scum of the earth... a failure... an abortion gone wrong... he should just do what she told him to do... just jump... just fucking jump... Randomly he feels Bing’s warm arms wrap around him, but doesn’t dare open his eyes. He wasn’t tense in the embrace, nor was his heart going a million miles. It was peaceful and calm as he cried out. If it was anything else, he would have rejected this. Chase slowly puts his hand on top of Bing’s of the one that was on top of him.

“I’m right here, Chase... you can tell me anything.” He says in a very light whisper trying to comfort him, but it doesn’t really help...

“W...why do y-you even c..care? D..damage h-has already been... d-done...” He says in the heat of the moment. Why should Bing care? It’s not like it’s going to change who he was. It’s not like Bing can help him in anyway, Stacy was already in jail for a DUI... there’s just no point anymore. In any of this. He just ruins everyone’s lives. First he came out bisexual which ruined his relationship with his parents... he married Stacy which ended his relationship with his best friend... he ruined his children’s lives by bringing them into a horrible family of yelling, screaming, swearing... then he ruined his life with being with Stacy... no matter where he went he was her’s... never able to escape the mental and physical scars that she left...

“I Care, because I’m your friend. Dude, I can tell when someone’s lying to me, please just tell me... you can’t keep something bottled up.” Bing says while slightly hugging Chase with the arm he had wrapped around him. It’s not unhealthy... it just didn’t matter... he’s one person in a place of billions... the only reason that he holds on is because of his kids. They are his only anchor in this world... if he wasn’t there they’d just be with Bing. They already love him so much...

“I-I don’t b..bottle it up... my thoughts r-replay it to me...” great fucking Excuse Chase. A- for effort... The weight on the bed shifts again as Chase feels Bing pull him closer to his chest. He can even hear his heart beat and heavy breathing. Alright NOW his heart can go ten million miles an hour and not get pulled over on the freeway. Hell heart, you just do you! Also, guess Bing’s lying down now next to him.

“Chase. Brody. You need to tell me, if you do I’ll tell you something about me. Would that be alright?” He asks with a commanding, but also comforting voice. How does that even work? He takes a deep breath, filtering through his words very carefully.

“M-my ex...” that was all he was able to manage to say before tears came pouring down. Please don’t make him say more! Please don’t make him say more! Just even saying that was to much for him to handle. Bing slowly turns Chase’s head to the side so that they where both looking at each other. Chase wanted to desperately look away, but Bing’s eyes where so beautiful...

“I would never treat you like that.” Chase lets out a long airy breath as they look at one another. The silence was peaceful, then having the last words be those... made Chase only fall even more into his love for Bing. What did he do that could have possibly been right that made Bing kiss him those three days ago? What was the one thing that he’s done right in his entire life to have Bing hold him like this? Was it because he was hurt? Did Bing feel like this was his fault?

“I promise.” Chase’s thoughts get cut short once again as Bing kisses him. Why was this happening to him? Don’t get him wrong, he loved it as he kissed him back, but what did he do to deserve this? His whole life has been a fuck up, but right now? Everything was perfect. No Stacy in his mind... no scars that stained to his body like an infection.

Slowly Bing’s hand moved to the side of Chase’s waist as Chase hesitantly moved his arms around Bing’s neck. Was this was he suppose to do? Or was he suppose to be doing something else!? He’s never been in this type of position before. His hands where shaking from the anxiety and ‘This was actually happening’ feelings. Bing must’ve felt it as he pulled back, and placed his forehead against Chase’s.

“Relax, Chase. I know what I’m doing.” With that he again pushes his lips against Chase’s.

All over again Chase melts into it, completely intoxicated by this. In the back of his mind, he can barely hear the anxiety of where did this leave them now? Once they where done with whatever this was... what where they going to be? Deep down Chase hoped this meant that they would go out and try to be a couple. However he didn’t know what Bing was feeling. Maybe the same? He has been the one to start all of this. However it doesn’t matter now. He’s in the moment right now, and everything was perfect.... right now.

(Sorry @alaughingfreak I couldn’t make it angsty! My brain wouldn’t let me)