#me crying to my dad about this stupid sport he does not care about every week

[thepavementsings-archive]

He gets me

[middlingmay]

May I request HUG from the tackle prompts, for Clegan? 🥰

[ HUG ]: sender tackles the receiver to the ground in their enthusiasm to give them a hug.

Hello! Took me a wee while to get to this one, sorry, but it was a great chance to dive back into my Footballer!John AU.

Taken from this prompt list.

Hope you like it!

EGAN TACKLES LATEST CHALLENGE

Newly-minted Arsenal midfielder John “Bucky” Egan showed off his tackling skills at Heathrow Airport yesterday. His promotion to the Champions League came with high emotions as he was reunited with his reporter boyfriend Gale Cleven, who covered Spain’s recent win in the Women’s World Cup. The couple were seen canoodling outside a trendy bar in Sydney in the early weeks of the tournament, before Egan returned the UK to embark on his new training regime. A tried and tested asset in the defensive midfield, Arsenal manger Mikel Arteta is rumoured to consider a move to a forward position…

John chuckles as he folds the paper and tosses it beside him on the couch. He knew they’d cause a stir with his display yesterday, but he hadn't cared then and he doesn't care now.

Over a month without Gale had been awful.

The nature of both their jobs demand time apart, a few days here, a week there. No biggie. And when Gale had told him his news outlet wanted him to cover the Women’s World Cup in Australia and New Zealand, John had foolishly thought this would be no different.

He’d been thrilled for Gale. John knew he wanted out of sports journalism, and was starting to dip his toe into STEM reportage and was impressing all the right people, but the World Cup was a huge privilege, a huge responsibility, a huge pay cheque, and a great opportunity to travel somewhere Gale might not have went otherwise.

Or John.

Timing’s wise, it wasn’t great. Summer fixtures were in full swing, but he’d managed to bag two full days in Sydney with Gale. They’d been a glorious sun-bleached daydream of exploring the city, enjoying some good football, and taking advantage of every opportunity he had to put hands all over his boyfriend.

Gale hadn't been able to see him to the airport because he had to be at the Allianz Stadium early. But when he saw him off at the door of his hotel, his eyes had gone uncharacteristically bright and John’s heart broke a little to realise that Gale was trying not to cry.

“Hey,” John dropped his duffle bag and swept Gale into his arms; their fifth hug in the last ten minutes. “What’s all that for?”

Gale had burrowed his head into the curve between John’s neck and his shoulders. Those long, strong fingers of his grasped at his shoulder blades tight and bunched up John’s jacket.

“M’sorry,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “Stupid.”

John had pushed him back, cupped Gale’s face under his jaw and made him look at him. “Nothing about you is stupid. I’m gonna miss you, too.”

John had kissed him then, and didn’t stop until his phone buzzed angrily, his ride to the airport beckoning.

Gale had laughed at himself and gently pushed John away. “Go on, get. Some of us have actual work to do.”

John hadn’t got why Gale had been so upset then, but he does now. Waiting a whole month to see Gale, touch Gale, smell Gale was torture. The only thing that had gotten him through it, asides from their texting and phone calls and video calls, was throwing himself head first into practice. He was the first in and last out, every day. He worked his body so hard, he just had enough energy to eat and talk to Gale before he fell into bed to rinse and repeat.

So, when the World Cup was over and Gale was coming home, John had insisted on picking him up at the airport.

*

John can see over the top of everyone perfectly fine, thanks to the long legs and tall frame he inherited from his dad. But that doesn’t stop him from straining to stand on the tip top of his toes every few seconds.

He looks every which way at the gate, tries to see through the stupid narrow windows on the doors to get his first glimpse of Gale in the flesh. But he stays stubbornly absent.

John’s dimly aware of the looks and murmuring around him. But every time he starts to tun in a pay some attention, he thinks he sees something move where Gale’s plan is due to disembark and he’s back on his toes, craning his neck. He’s one single minute away from jumping in the air like a five-year-old to try and see even further, he swears to God.

Then, finally, the doors swing open and a flood of people swarm through. There are families lugging tired kids; there are sunburnt, hungover teenagers and twenty-something-year-olds; there are leather-skinned retirees, crisply-outfitted business folks. And then, finally through the throng, John spots him.

He’s always thought Gale was the most beautiful person on the plant. He thinks he’s beautiful in his suits he wears for work. He thinks he’s beautiful in the sweats and t-shirts he wears at home. He thinks he’s beautiful in those stupid slipper socks he wears because his feet get cold at night.

But right now, he’s never looked better. He’s exhausted, John can tell; he hasn’t slept on the plane. The shadows under his eyes are purplish. His skin is pale, his hair is unbrushed. His clothes are wrinkled. But he walks tall, looking over the crowd and scanning, scanning, until—

His whole face, whole body, slumps with relief when he spots John.

And that’s just too much for John to take.

Legs strong and conditioned for exactly this task, John pelts forward, weaving through holiday-makers, dodging wheely-cases, not breaking stride for a second. They all pass him by in a multicolour blur as he runs for Gale. Gale only has time to drop his bag before John lands. Between his momentum and Gale's tiredness, they’re careening down to the floor, John’s hand protecting Gale’s head as the rest of him lays sprawled over his boyfriend.

They hear tittering and clicking but John cannot care less. He beams at Gale, thrilled just to drink in the sight of him, and he gets his favourite Gale smile: eyes looking up through his lashes, cheeks high, like he’s trying not to smile but just can’t help himself around John.

John rubs their noses together. “Hi.”

And to John’s surprise, Gale kisses him; a brush of his lips that John follows and presses into, just enough to feel the fullness of those lips he’d dreamt about, before letting Gale retreat.

“Hi. Now let me up.”

John bounds up, and plucks Gale up off the floor easy with two hands. He takes his bag too and all but drags him out of the airport to the car waiting outside. They have to get home. Like, yesterday.

*

A cup of coffee appears over John’s shoulder.

“You’re up.” He takes the cup from Gale with a kiss to his jaw.

“Mm. Didn’t have anyone to stay in bed for.” Gale joins John on the sofa, his back against the arm and his legs thrown over John’s. “Saw something interesting on my phone though.”

He fishes his barely-used personal phone from his pocket (John’s surprised he actually knows where it is, today. He doesn’t normally), presses a few buttons and passes it to John.

On the small rectangular screen is the site for a gossip rag. On it’s sports section, it leads with the headline: See what Bucky did to his boyfriend in PUBLIC!

“Oh, come on,” John scoffs, nearly sloshing coffee over the lip and onto the sofa. “That makes it sounds like I was…pushing you around or something.”

“You literally pushed me over.” John poked him. “There’s more. The Daily Mail, always a classic.”

‘Tackled’ Pink: Egan humiliates boy toy.

John groans in second-hand embarrassment. “Their puns are getting worse. That barely makes sense. And I’m sorry—boy toy?”

“Excuse you: humiliated boy toy, I think you’ll find.”

John makes to hand the phone back but Gale just nods at it. “Look who wrote it.”

A quick scan of the article reveals the name. “Ulrich Haussmann?! That prick who got drunk at your last mixer and asked to be our third?”

Gale snickers into his own cup of coffee and cocks his head, his blue eyes alight with mirth as he gazes at John. “He only asked that because I was there. He was lookin’ at you all night. Swear his eyes never went north of the equator.”

John gags at Gale’s teasing. “Rather grate off my own dick, no thank you.”

Gale puts down his coffee. “Now why did you have to say a thing like that?” He slips from the sofa to kneel on the floor between John’s legs. Drawing his nose up the inseam of John’s thighs (he's borderline obsessed with them and John can't get enough of it), Gale places a clothed kiss over the crotch of John’s pyjama shorts and gives him a brief nuzzle. “Don’t worry baby,” he says to John’s groin. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

It is so utterly ridiculous, the goofy, silly side of Gale he doesn't let anyone else see but John, that John has them toppling over again, landing on the cushioned rug of their living room instead of the hard screed of the airport.

Nose to nose, John grins and says, “You happier to see me or him, here?”

Gale shimmies his shoulders and screws up his face that way that wrinkles his nose. “Fifty-fifty.”

“I’ll take it.”

[maybanksbabe]

💻

YOU GOT ME HOOKED ON POLY!BABYFEVER oh fuck off I can’t. I feel like I have a million ideas to write. Here are some thoughts though: 1) pregnancy sex. R is completely insatiable and Rafe and Topper are in heaven. The pregnancy takes their sex life to a whole other level, new kinks unlocked 2) Topper is the one who always naps with their baby, like literally multiple times a day, R and Rafe find them on the couch, asleep, the baby carefully tucked against Topper 3) Rafe might love the "sexual aspect" of the pregnancy but actually thinking about taking care of a baby human makes him freak out because out of the three of them he's the one who comes from abuse and what if one day he's the reason their kids start using??? but Topper and R are there for him and because they are three parents it's totally fine that he takes his time. But once he's stable? Duuuude.... Topper and him are constantly fighting for Best Dad Award. 4) please tell me what you think about the child's/children relationship dynamic to all three parents. I could write 100k just about what was going through my head the past five hours. I imagine Topper to be full on care giver, bathing, feeding, changing diapers, rocking to sleep, cleaning, cooking for the family, that's his strong suit, he loves it. Rafe does all of that as well but it doesn't come as natural to him as it comes to Topper and R. The baby brings out his playful side though, a side that Topper and R have never seen on him before. The baby's first laugh? Totally due to Rafe. The person who can comfort the baby best? Rafe, 100%. At one point, R and Topper just bring the crying baby to Rafe and two minutes later the baby isn't crying anymore. And R is the one to keep everything together. She's the one to make sure everyone gets enough sleep, everything is on schedule, everyone is happy, everyone is doing their best. She's the one to look after Rafe when he gets anxious, she's the one to tell Topper to chill out because he might overwork himself between family and work. But she's also the one to push them to always be better and work on themselves and their relationship. She's the glue of this family

oh my god bestie I'm so sorry it's taken so long to get to this but its been such a long few days -

1 - YES the pregnancy sex is REAL and like you said in one of your last asks Rafe is glad there's him AND Topper to take care of her because one man can only take so much lmaooo

2 - Topper is 1000% the cuddle-napper parent and singlehandedly manages to soothe baby/ies down every single time, Reader and Rafe and have no idea how he does it!

3 - SO REAL Rafe wants to be totally clean for when baby/ies arrive and spends the nine-ish months preparing as best as he can, cleaning his act up and once he does have that stable, sober base to work from he is TOTALLY vying for Best Dad award right next to Topper!!!

4 - I feel like all three of them are shoulders to lean on for their kids, just in their own ways, if they have girls, ofc they're more likely to go to R for help or any issues they may have, but on the whole they all try and express all the love and support for their kid/s as possible and there's no such thing as a stupid question. They always aim to have honest and open conversations with their kid/s because esp Rafe never really had that with Ward growing up and Topper's mom has always been... Topper's Mom, yk? As I just mentioned, Topper is probably the one to go to for cuts and scrapes and boo-boos, Rafe I feel is probably the one that encourages them to find hobbies and sports/activities they love and lets them try anything they ask for (as long as it's age-appropriate yk?) And Reader is that perfect balance of the firm but fair parent that sometimes has to remind Topper and Rafe they're parents not kids now lmaoo

[ssplague]

Alpha Bakugou & his late blooming Omega girlfriend 🌬🥀

PART TWO

Honorable mentions: @jazzylove @bakugoismisunderstood @koreylive

Okay since so many of you seemed to really enjoy this “Just thinking about”, I’m turning it into a short story. I’m thinking it will have four parts all together (including the original post). So I know I’d said that I’d give you a nice big dose of Scumbag Suki this update, buuuut that was before I knew this was going to take off like it did 🙈 The next one is entirely his POV so you’ll get your fill then!

Part 3

🌌✨🌠

“Suki, did you really have to be that harsh towards Izuku when we left the playground earlier? I know you dislike him now but….”

You trail off as you get settled on the plush, blanket lined floor of the small tent you and Bakugou had set up in your backyard. Supposedly there was going to be “A shit load of shooting stars tonight!” acording to one of your classmates. You were excited and insisted on staying up to watch, and as usual, Katsuki inserts himself into any and everything you do. Therefore; The two of you had rushed home after school, asked both your mothers and pleaded to spend the night together out in the yard. Deciding that you two were still at the age where anything other than star gazing was unlikely to happen, they allowed it.

Battery operated fairy lights were strung along the roof of the tent and a small lantern illuminated the center, giving the inside a pink and orange glow.

“Hah?! No way was I about to let stupid Deku come and ruin OUR sleep over! This is for me and you ________, no one else….just…us” a light breeze blew in through the open tent flap and treated Katsuki to be briefly overcome by your scent.

The two of you had your scent glands come in around the same time and still weren’t entirely used to it just yet. All both of you knew is that you favored each other’s scents over anyone else’s. It was kind of getting embarrassing how much you were beginning to enjoy your temperamental best friend’s spiced caramel aroma. So much so you had to make a conscious effort not to lean into him and sniff at his neck from time to time. He was subtle about it, but certainly didn’t mind bumping into or brushing up against you more often than ever to get a whiff of your intoxicating fragrance. Even getting hit with a face full just now had his brain feeling sluggish as beads of sweat began forming along his hairline.

A voice inside his head started incessantly growling “touch her, touch her TOUCH HER”. Under the guise of getting comfortable he shifted his leg to rest up against yours and his mind quieted instantly.

“I….I know that Kat…I wouldn’t have invited him anyway!” Your face began to redden as you brazenly blurted out; “I like when it’s just you and I, we always have the most fun”.

He instantly perked up at hearing that, but he couldn’t help but ask; “So you like me better than him? You think I’m BETTER than him?”. Leaning into you as he waited for you to answer his question, eyes narrowed.

“You know I do! Besides….” You couldn’t help yourself as you leaned towards him and inhaled deeply “You smell so much better than him too!”.

Oh hell now you’d done it ________, you unknowingly opened the metaphoric Pandora’s box.

He didn’t speak right away, just smirked back at you and enjoyed the devious expression on your face. After another minute spent invading one another’s personal space you were first to snap out of it quickly muttering; “M’sorry Suki I..I dunno what happened I shouldn’t have got in your face like that!”. You sat back up and moved your leg so it was no longer touching his. Unable to comprehend the sudden feeling of sadness at the loss of contact, or attribute it to the fact that you were no longer touching him. Katsuki frowned immediately and scooted back against you, “S’okay princess…s’not like it’s a big deal”. His use of the familiar nickname only succeeding to fluster you further.

The next few moments were spent in silence.

Surprisingly, It was you that eventually broke it asking; “Suki do you know…d’you know what mates are?”. You immediately began to play with the cheap desk telescope you’d brought out to avoid looking at him, your heart was beating a lot faster now. The startled look on his face would have informed you that your question caught him off gaurd; Surely you hadn’t just had the same thought he did?! Well either that or you could read minds….that wasn’t very likely, thank god.

“Ah well my mom told me it’s when two people decide that they want to always be together and get sad if they are ever apart…so they live together….and then other stuff happens that damn brats don’t need to know just yet” he finished lamely, confused as to why he felt so strange reciting his mother’s words exactly as she’d originally said them.

“I get sad when we have to go inside our houses at night and stop playing together” you said, the depressed tone of voice sounded like it was happening right then. “Me too…I wish we lived together cause then you’d always be with me” he confessed shooting you a nervous glance. Your eyes lit up and you beamed at him when the idea suddenly struck; “We have to become mates now Katsuki, we have to!”. You got up on your knees and began frantically shuffling things around the tiny tent. “If we’re mates then our parents can’t tell us we have to stop playing and separate at night! We’ll always be able to stay together!” Your sporadic movement and sudden outburst immediately infected your companion with the same frantic energy, albeit nervous, but excited all the same as he stared at you with wide eyes.

“You’re right _________! That’s a great idea”

“I know!”

“So uh..umm how uh…how do we do that?”

You stop smoothing the blankets out to stare at Katsuki, “You don’t know how?”.

“No” he admits glumly.

You can’t hold back the distressed whimper that escapes you and Katsuki is immediately at your side trying to console you “Hey princess it’s alright-“. “NO!” you exclaim “We need to do this to stay together forever!”.

Then you remembered something; “I see my mom and dad do this every morning”. You roll up the sleeve of your jacket and bring your wrist up, simulating the motion of rubbing it across the scent gland on your neck. Katsuki nods his head in understanding; “Oh yeah, mine do the same thing! Let’s do that!”. He lays back and stretches his neck out, “You do me first and then I’ll do you kay?”.

“Kay”

You nod and smile down at him, shuffling towards his head and bringing your wrist up to his neck. You hold your breath as your skin makes contact with his and start lightly rubbing over his scent gland a few times.

“S-Shit” he says softly, squirming slightly.

“What?! Did I hurt you??!” You ask.

Fear immediately replacing excitement and distracting you from reprimanding him for uttering a curse word as you usually would.

“N-No it didn’t hurt…please d-do it again”

You do, continuing thoughtlessly as you become enthralled by his peaceful expression and relaxed as he starts purring.

“Your turn”

You take his spot laying down on the fluffy blanket strewn floor, shivering with anticipation and the slight chill in the night air. His touch warms you from the inside out and you gasp at the sudden sensation. Relaxing once more, you look up at him through heavily lidded eyes and return the smile he’s giving you.

Neither one of you has any idea that this situation is going to come with serious consequences.

Eventually you remember the whole reason you two had decided to camp out in the first place; “The shooting stars!” You cry sitting up and narrowly avoiding head butting the blonde boy above you. “Hey!” He snarls. You stand and open the window flap in the tents ceiling, just as you do you see the first “star” shoot across the sky. “Woah! Quick make a wish make a wish kat!”.

He won’t admit it…but he does, and so do you.

As more stars shoot across the sky the two of you lay together; Happily curled up in the blankets, snuggling up together. Occasionally one of you brings your wrist up and begins to rub the others neck lazily, while continuing to watch the dazzling light show taking place above you. Both of you end up falling asleep long before it’s over. The sound of Katsuki’s continuous purring, lulling you into the most comfortable sleep possible.

Well that, and how his natural warmth just seemed to consume you….

Warmth…so warm at times it could get uncomfortable.

Like right now…too close…too hot

Your eyes snap open and you take in your surroundings; This is your dorm room, you’re at school right now, safe. Your clothes and sheets are soaked through with sweat. Not just sweat apparently; After waking up more you realize your lower body feels disgustingly sticky. Then a tingling sensation begins at the tip of your toes, rapidly spreading up your legs until it reaches the special place between them. Then it’s like a literal fucking furnace has exploded down there! Not to mention the heavyweight that has now come to rest in your lower stomach as it begins to cramp.

“Ow! ow! Ow!”

You try to feel around the bed for your phone, you could call one of your friends to come help you.Friends….that’s right they all left for the weekend! Wait not all of them left, Katsuki! He’s still here! That’s right, you were supposed to go over to his room, last night? Is it already morning? Fuck who knows.

You start to cry when you can’t feel your phone nearby on the bed, you don’t wanna look for it.

You don’t wanna be alone either though….Your scared. His room is just down the hall it’s not too far away, maybe if you just take it slow you’ll make it. You force yourself to get up, not even caring that all you have on is a tiny pair of sleep shorts and a sports bra.

You bend down to grab your slides out from beneath the bed and slip them on your feet before moving forward.

One foot in front of the other.

Your hunched over, one arm wrapped around your stomach and sweat freely dribbling down your face, coating your chest, sliding down the valley between your breasts.

Jesus, I must look like fucking shit right now.

As you make it into the hallway and start your journey all you can think about is how badly you want to see Katsuki. He always makes everything better somehow; That smile he wears just for you makes your heart sing normally. Right now you just let out a pained keen at the thought. Your inner omega has always been quiet enough to ignore in the past, but now she’s practically screeching like a fucking banshee inside of your head.

Just one word, over & over & over again:

Alpha

Alpha!

ALPHAAA!!!

With each screech your primal urges and instincts had began overwhelming you. Eventually reaching a point where the lines between the two began to blur. Making you feel more like a wounded beast that’s gone absolutely feral, while slowly dragging yourself down the hallway.

Once you get about halfway down you start to smell the familiar scent that you’ve become so fond of. Only it’s so much stronger and….muskier? It’s intoxicating, and so potent, you need more! Somehow your legs are moving quicker thanks to this new desperation manIfesting. Once you finally reach his door you have to stop yourself from breaking it down; Frantically pounding on it instead, and now you’ve started crying, salivating, and you’re just a goddamn walking train wreck… Somehow you don’t care, your appearance doesn’t matter, you just need HIM right now.

When the door opens you stumble inside.

The sound of his voice quieting your shrieking omega as soon as it reaches your ears;

��Finally decided to show up? Was waiting all fuckin’ night for you and…hey what’s wrong? Oh shit…fuck”.

Fuck is very right.

[danielxricciardo]

95 and 96 with max, thanks xx

95. "I said I'm done, leave me alone!"

96. "Don’t raise your fucking voice at me”

From all over the world, there was only one person that scared you: Jos Verstappen. It seemed scary to you even before you became his son's girlfriend and the fact that he didn't like you made you terribly anxious. Max always told you not to worry, his father doesn't dictate his personal life, he just accepts advice from him about his career. On one hand it calmed you down, but not completely.

You had been with Max for two years already and his father hadn't gotten used to you yet. You were beginning to wonder if he would ever do it. You could count on the fingers of one hand how many times you and Max argued and all the reasons were because of his father.

This weekend being the Belgian Grand Prix, of course he had come to support his son and that was a reason for anxiety for you.

"Everything will be fine, he'll behave and won't do anything to you. I really think he's starting to like you, you know?" he always says, although it's not always like that and you end up crying after every meeting with his father.

He never tells you anything, that's probably the worst thing. Sometimes he expresses his disappointment to Max and you only find out after a few months what he said. Most of the time, Jos doesn't even notice you, he just looks at you with indifference. Although Max has told him countless times that he loves you and does not intend to leave you and that you are the chosen one he doesn't seem to understand.

And it's not like Jos has a certain girl in mind to share her life with Max. He just doesn't like you because you're you. You have nothing special, you don't look like a girlfriend of a Formula 1 driver, you have nothing in common with this sport, and that makes him mad.

When Max introduced you at the beginning of your relationship, Jos was exasperated that you knew nothing about the sport other than the bare minimum of knowledge. But since then you have done everything in your power to learn everything possible about Formula 1, but even that did not make him like you.

"Hey, my dad is here, let's go say hello." Max tells you and you get up from the couch reluctantly.

You go with Max to meet Jos. You try to push all your negative thoughts into a corner of your mind and be positive. You haven't seen him in about four months, maybe he's not so against you anymore.

"Hi, Max!" you suddenly hear Jos' voice in front of you and he hugged his son. "Y/N." he says in an indifferent tone, looking at you with superiority.

You cough to get rid of the lump in your throat.

"Sir."

You return to the garages, the two men talking and catching up.

"I want to see the car, is that possible?" asks Jos when you get to the Red Bull Racing garage.

"Yes of course." says Max.

"I'll go to your room, I'll be right there." you say, putting your hand on Max's shoulder.

"Okay, love."

You go to Max's room to get your phone and look in the mirror again. You sigh. I look like shit. You go back to the two men, with your eyes on the phone, talking to your best friend. She asked you to keep her up to date with everything that is happening between you and Jos and, to be honest, nothing has happened so far, thank God.

"But does she really have to be here?" Jos asks in an attempt to whisper, but you could hear him all the way from the hall. You stop immediately in the doorway and bite your lip. He was talking about you.

"Dad, we have this talk every time we see each other. Yeah, she has to be here because she's my girlfriend."

"But she doesn't do anything! It just distracts you from work. She doesn't even work, does it seem normal to you? Don't look at me like that, I'm your father and I want what's best for you. And listen to me, Y/N is not."

Bradley straightens his voice and signals Max to the door. He had seen you. You leave from the door immediately and go to Max's room. It was the thousandth time you had heard Jos' opinion of you, and you still couldn't get used to his venomous words.

Max had come for you. You wipe away your tears with his sweatshirt that was on you and you start to gather all your things. You couldn't sit there under the same roof with Jos Verstappen at the time.

"Hey, what are you doing? Why are you packing?" he asks.

"Just asking me confirms that you don't care that I heard what your father said."

"But you just know he always says something. Just don't listen to him."

"Don't listen to him?" you shout. "It's easy for you to say that because my family loves you, right? If my father hated you and constantly told me how disappointed he is that I'm with you, would you be so okay. with this?"

"Don’t raise your fucking voice at me. You act like a little brat.”

You laugh and wipe your tears again.

"I'm behaving like a brat? That is a lot from someone who stays with you just for money, don't you think?" You take off Max's sweatshirt and you throw it on the ground.

"You know what? I respect him because he's your father. But I'm tired. Do you think that listening to his words non-stop is good for me? For my mental health? I am done." you say taking your bag and walking past him to get out of the room.

"What?" he says and you hear his voice break. You don't have to turn around to see him crying. "Don't go, please!"

"I said I'm done, leave me alone!" you scream at him again. "Good luck in the race."

You got out of the Red Bull Racing garage as fast as you could. You pass Jos Verstappen and you don't even look at him even though you feel his gaze on you. Max was behind you, trying to wipe away his tears but to no avail.

"What happened, son?" Jos asks.

"What the fuck happened? What the fuck you wanted to happen from the beginning. She broke up with me because of you. I hope you're happy!"

You watched the race from the stands. Max's race was shit. Although he started from pole, he did not have a good start and reached the eighth position before the first turn.

On lap 34 he lost control of the car and had an accident. When you saw that he was not getting out of the car, a thousand thoughts crossed your mind and you didn't know how to get to the garages faster.

Jos Verstappen was very worried and no one knew anything about Max, the radio connection was no longer working. It was a red flag and all the cars had returned to the pits. Immediately the medical car had arrived at Max and you could see from the garage screens how they pick him up from the car and he walks on his own two feet. Only then you realized that you had forgotten to breathe.

You and Jos were on your way to the medical building to see him.

"I'm fine." he assures you when he sees you.

"What happened, Max? How did you lose control of the car?" his father asks in a calm and worried tone.

Max shrugs and looks at you.

"I couldn't concentrate. I just thought about what a stupid man I am..." he says with tears in his eyes.

You giggle and kiss him.

"Yes, you really are."

[gashinabts]

philophobia|(m)

Words: 7.4k

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Mature

Summary: Taehyung, a man, who swears he’ll never fall in love meets Y/N a hopeless romantic.

Warnings: Teasing, spitting, oral (f/receiving), fingering, pussy slapping, pussy sniffing ( lmao idk if thats a thing?), squirting, sexual intercourse, mention of homophobia. Topics of child neglecting, if this makes you uncomfortable pls don’t read :) minor character death

A/N: Taehyung is a bisexual king! Tell me what you peeps think, remember that comments motivate me to continue writing!!! This is my work, no reposting this and my other works on any other platforms.

Kim Taehyung was born December 30, 1995 his father left him when he was 11 years old that is when Taehyung realized that love never lasts. His mother pretended that his father never existed, she quickly hid the family photos away, along with covering his tomato garden with dirt. Taehyung wanted to ask where he went but stopped wondering when he heard a few of his classmates whispering that Taehyung’s dad left them for a young woman in her twenties. 

As Taehyung grew into his teenage years he would often get asked out by his classmates, he wouldn’t decline, accepting the dates to see if he can ever fall foolishly in love like his Mom once did. However, nothing ever happened, he would kiss them goodnight but won’t call them the next day. In high school he lost his virginity at a party, he wasn’t nervous, just did things he’s seen in filthy pornorgraphy. The very next day the girl spread the rumor that Taehyung was a sex god, that he probably had sex everyday with a different people. Was that a compliment? He remembered thinking to himself as he sat in the back of the classroom, feeling people secretly stare at him. 

That day he met Jimin. Jimin was a popular boy that everyone swoon over. Of course he had a girlfriend, they have been dating since middle school. The guys would gawk at her when she would wear a sports bra to track practice. Taehyung was in art class sketching an apple, Jimin came over and talked to him as if they were friends. It was nice, Taehyung listened to Jimin complain about his art. When class was over, Jimin asked Taehyung to hang out with him after school. When Taehyung sat on Jimin’s bed, he looked over on the desk and saw a picture of Jimin and his girlfriend. Right next to it was a picture of what he assumed was Jimin’s family. A Mom, Dad, an older brother, and Jimin. He turned his gaze back to Jimin...who was undressing in front of him. Jimin’s underwear was the only thing on, Taehyung didn’t expect him to have lean muscles and define abs. An hour later  they were both breathless, exhausted from the sex. 

“ I’m not gay.” Jimin tells Taehyung as he cleans himself with a rag. 

“ Okay.” Taehyung shrugs and pulls his pants up. He’s watched gay porn and straight porn before and got turned on by both of them, so it doesn’t come to much of a surprise that he enjoyed the sex with Jimin. 

*******

Taehyung watches from afar when Jimin kisses his girlfriend in the school halls, wondering if that’s love. The next few months, Taehyung and Jimin fool around more. Jimin would call Taehyung over, then they would fuck and they would both be on their way. There were never conversations or pillow talks, until right now.

“ I’m gay.” Jimin confesses to Taehyung. 

“Cool.” Taehyung shrugs, looking for his shoes. 

“ That’s all your gonna say?” Jimin rolls his eyes grabbing his t-shirt wiping the come on his stomach. 

“ I’m bisexual, happy?” Taehyung looks at his phone and notices a missed call from his mother. He tucks his phone away, “ Why are you still with her? Your girlfriend.” He finally asks the question he’s been meaning to ask since the beginning.

“ I love her and I don’t want to hurt her, but I can’t love her like that.” Jimin looks at the picture of them and flips it down, almost ashamed of how much of a coward he is. “ Plus my Dad would kill me if I told him I like men.” He throws his head back looking at the ceiling not wanting to cry his eyes out. 

Taehyung thinks love is complicated, he thinks people who are in love are selfish. They rather hurt themselves for the sake of love. It’s stupid he wants to tell Jimin that but he keeps quiet until Jimin looks at him with tears eyes. “ I don’t know what to say…”

“It’s fine...you don’t have to say anything just keep me company, yeah?” 

“ Okay,” Taehyung sits back on the bed watching but not really watching tv with Jimin. 

---

Taehyung’s mom was proud of him when he got accepted to a good college, she would brag to her friends and show pictures of his acceptance letters. Along with bragging how she raised Taehyung all by herself. Taehyung didn’t mind that he was in the spotlight, whatever made his mom happy he would comply with whatever she does. He was good with numbers so he was going to major in data analysis, he really wanted to major in art but his mom laughed in his face, telling him to be realistic. 

Taehyung is now in his third year of college, wanting to just graduate already, done with the shitload of classwork and long ass lectures. Just right now he just finished his homework that took him three hours. He’s about to call it a night until Jungkook barges in his room, yelling at him to get dressed for a party. Taehyung switches his dirty hoodie with a clean hoodie, opting out grey sweatpants with jeans. He keeps his glasses on, due to his eyes being tired and not wanting to irritate them with contacts. 

Jungkook hands Taehyung a drink, there’s obscene music, blunts being handed around, and people grinding on each other. “ When’s the last time you got laid?” Jungkook asked, as he took a gulp of his beer.

“ Last week...I think.” Taehyung searches through his mental sex list, but can’t seem to remember the girls face or name. He looks around and watches a couple argue with each other. The man rolls his eyes as the woman tries not to cry, the woman ends up leaving him and going upstairs.

“ Damn, lucky. I tried to hook up with this girl and she ended up leaving me hanging. Claimed that she’s not over her boyfriend, started crying on me when I was going down on her.” Jungkook cringes, sipping more alcohol. “ Be my wingman, yeah?” 

“ Sure,” Taehyung nods. Jungkook is talking to this pretty girl, and she laughs at every joke that Jungkook makes. Taehyung wasn’t even sure why he asked him to his wingman when Jungkook can easily get a girl to bed. Jungkook nods absentmindedly when Taehyung excuses himself, he wanders around the frat house looking at people getting wasted. Once he gets tired of it he goes upstairs, hoping to find solace in an empty room. He opens a bedroom door, and notices a girl with a pencil and notebook. “ My bad-,” Taehyung is about to close the door.

You look up from your sketchpad, you see a tall man with messy curls and glasses. “ You can stay,” you observe him, he looks like he was forced to come here. There’s no red solo cup in his hand, he looks like he hasn’t a good night's rest. Also why else would he look mindlessly into rooms, the bathroom doors have a handwritten sign stating ‘BATHROOM’, so he must be bored or something searching into bedrooms. “ Or don’t. I don’t care.” You watch him close the door, entering the room.

“ Is this your room?” Taehyung looks around the room, noticing posters of naked women and marvel posters. Weird combination he notes. Along with the dirty clothes scattered all over the floor. 

“ No,” you laugh. Shutting your notebook close, taking notice of his nice hands brushing his hair back. “ My friend’s room. I didn’t really feel like partying just decided to sketch,” you lift your pad up. He nods and sits on the bed.

“ Can I draw?” Taehyung points towards the sketchpad. He hasn’t drawn in months too busy in his schoolwork, his fingers would sometimes draw on foggy windows but nothing more. You nod tearing a piece of paper out and handing him a pencil, he thanks you. 

You were sneakily glancing at him, sketching him, his angular jaw, messing hair, uneven eyelid, long eyelashes. Getting lost at his elegant features, wondering if he knows how beautiful he looks. You shake your head for easily fawning over this man. His hands are even beautiful, they travel across the paper gracefully with each stroke. You turn your eyes away when he makes eye contact with you, cheeks getting warm. “ What’s your name?” You ask while shading the contours of his cheeks.

“ Taehyung.” He folded his paper into a small square, putting it into his pocket. “ Yours?”

“ Y/N,” you smile.

---

“ Did you get laid yesterday night?” Jungkook is shirtless with scratch marks behind his back, there’s a couple of hickies on his neck.

Taehyung takes a sip of his tea before answering, “No, just talking to some girl. Her name is Y/N.” 

“ Y/N. She’s a nice girl. One time I forgot a scantron for class and she gave me one. She’s also friends with Namjoon.” Jungkook pours himself coffee sitting next to Taehyung. “ Are you interested in her?”

Taehyung would be lying if said he wasn’t interested in you. When he entered the room he thought you were pretty and had a kind smile. “ Maybe...why?” 

“ It’s best if you don’t try to get at her. Y/N looks the type to fall in love easily.” Jungkook sighs cracking his back on the back of the chair, groaning at his achy body. Taehyung wonders how can someone fall in love easily, he’s not one to believe in love at first sight or any kind of stuff in that realm. “ Alright, I’m gonna take a quick shower and then we can leave.” 

Taehyung and Jungkook are at the library studying or trying to study, Jungkook is texting someone the whole time instead of studying for his macroeconimics test. While Taehyung is playing video games on his phone. “ Hey guys! Didn’t know you actually study Jungkook,” Namjoon jokes, ruffling Jungkook’s hair. Jungkook rolls his eyes pushing his hand off his head mumbling curse words at him. Taehyung looks to the side of Namjoon and notices you laughing as the scene unfolds. You’re carrying ice americanos and Jungkook immediately takes it out of the carrier, thanking you. 

You look at Taehyung placing one in front of him, “ I didn’t know what kind of coffee you liked.” Taehyung is wearing similar clothing to what he wore at the party, mostly muted green colors and his circle glasses, his hair is pushed back with a headband. He looks surprised to see you, but nevertheless thanks you for the coffee. The conversations between Jungkook and Namjoon get more serious when they finally decide to study for their materials. You try to study but you want to talk to Taehyung wanting to get to know him more, you nudge your foot against his leg. He looks up, looking at you in question, you nod your head towards the exit entrance, he nods slowly unsure to what you're up to but following your lead. Jungkook and Namjoon are too invested in their studying to see you and Taehyung leave. “ Do you wanna go to my apartment?”

“ Sure,” Taehyung shrugs. The apartment was small and kind of messy, you try to hurry up and toss some of the paintbrushes in the sink. There’s water cups filled with murky colors, and paint marks on the tables, he’s not used to a sight like this. In his apartment it is always clean and tidy, not a dirty plate in sight. “ You live by yourself?” he asked, placing his stuff on the table. 

“ Yeah, my roommate moved four months ago with her boyfriend.” You give up cleaning the mess since there’s too much to clean. “ Want some-” You are interrupted when you feel Taehyung’s lips on your, your hands push his chest flustered at the sudden kiss.

“ I-I- sorry...I must have read something wrong,” he looks embarrassed immediately backing up giving you space. “ I thought you invited me to your apartment for sex.” Taehyung notices how your eyes widen, fuck he feels like an ass, scared that he made you uncomfortable. “ I should go…” he goes to pick up his bags ready to bolt out.

“ I just wanted to talk...to get to know you better,” you speak before his hands grab the doorknob. “ We can paint and talk, if that's okay with you?” 

“ Are you sure? You don’t want me to leave?” 

“ Stay.” You go to the sink to wash your dirty brushes. 

Taehyung sits down looking at the wall, notices a canvas of a man, he has plump lips, gentle eyes, overall he is beautiful, something that seemed out of this world. Maybe it was the way it was painted that made it appear like that. “ You painted that?” Taehyung speaks shifting his gaze to you.

You look at where Taehyung was pointing at, it was the painting of your ex boyfriend, “ Yeah, that’s my ex boyfriend, Seokjin. The professor told us to paint the definition of love…,” you stare at Seokjin’s face, remembering the memories you shared. The brushes are all cleaned and you set them down, grabbing some water colors that are in the cabinet. 

“ Do you still love him?” Taehyung curiously asked, watching carefully at your reaction.

There’s a slight pain of thinking about him, truly not over his death. “ Yeah I’ll always have love for him…” 

Taehyung wants to ask more about him but doesn’t want to intrude, he doesn’t say anything else but paints. This is when Taehyung feels like he’s truly being himself painting, expressing himself without saying anything. Moments like these wish Taehyung would’ve chosen doing what he has a passion for insteading appealing to his mothers standards. 

“ Why are you a data analysis major?” The artwork he is doing is remarkable, there’s dark undertones and eerie about it but it is beautiful something that you have to keep staring at.

He chuckles, “ Because I need to eat.” You look down feeling a little insulted he must've noticed since he immediately apologizes. 

“ It’s okay. You know if you ever want to relax and paint, you can come here,” you continue painting small flowers. The first time, he smiles and nods his head.

---

5 months later

This is the third flower shop visited and he’s getting more tired with each second. “ This arrangement or this one?” You ask Taehyung, as you hold two bouquets. One was more filled with carnations and the other was filled with lilies. He gives it some thought before pointing at the carnations. “ This would be pretty to paint,” you smell it getting happy inside.

“ Finally, when can we eat...I didn't eat anything this morning,” his stomach growls at the thought of food. He’s still carrying the vases you bought at the thrift shop, you had to plead with you to not buy another antique mirror because he knows he would have to carry it to the apartment.

You gave the cashier the money, as he wraps the flowers in newspaper, turning your head you look at Taehyung, “ Why did you come with me if you were going to complain the whole time?” You laugh at his scrunched nose as you pinch it. The flowers are handed back and you thank the cashier, leaving with Taehyung.

“ Because I wanted to,” Taehyung shrugs. In your apartment he puts the flowers away as you cook him food, he always enjoys your cooking. When he was younger all he ever ate was ramen, never really ate some home cooked meals, his mother was always busy working trying to financially support the family so he never once asked his mom for dinner. Even at his own apartment he doesn’t eat Jungkook’s food since he doesn’t know how to cook either. Sometimes when he’s hungry he’ll just come to your apartment and you’ll be more than happy to cook for him.

When Taehyung enters his apartment Jungkook is watching anime, foot propped on the table and sipping some beer. “ Back from your girlfriends’ so soon?” 

“ Not my girlfriend but yeah, I left my schoolwork here so I had to come back,” he sighs. Taehyung doesn’t get mad when Jungkook teases him about you being his girlfriend, but he sometimes gets annoyed. He likes the friendship between the two of you, it’s different from any other friendships he had in the past. “ Tomorrow night the apartment is mine. This guy wants to hangout with me.”

“ Just say he wants to fuck you,” Jungkook yells as Taehyung closes his bedroom door. 

---

You meet Taehyung at the park with some bread, he hugs you and asks about your day. “ It was okay. Had lunch with my Dad, but it always ends up in some lecture. I swear, sometimes it feels like I’m fifteen or something,” you tear a piece of bread throwing it into the pond watching some ducks gobble it. You try to look at Taehyung but it hurts when you see some hickies on his neck. On the day you were about to confess your feelings to Taehyung you asked him if he ever loved someone, he laughed and said that he doesn’t believe in no such thing as love. As much as you wanted to disapprove of that idea, you couldn’t be the one to change it.

He grabs some bread, chucking some pieces out, “ What was the argument?”

You laugh thinking about your Dad’s red face, “ I invited him to my apartment, and he found the blunt we smoked together in the ashtray.”

“ Shit, I should’ve thrown it away,” Taehyung laughs too, pushing some of his hair back. 

“ Just glad he didn’t find any of my sex toys,” you cringe just thinking about it. You feel something tugging the end of your skirt, looking down you see a toddler smiling cheekily pointing at the bread. You smile, “ Here, have fun,” you hand him the rest of your bread. You watch him wobble as he runs to his mother throwing the whole slice in the water. 

“ Sex toys?” Taehyung asked once the child was out of sight. “ Like what?,” Taehyung is interested, he doesn’t know, maybe because he can’t imagine you using them. Or he wants to know how you use it. There were times when Taehyung wanted to have sex with you but he turned those urges off. He doesn’t want to give you mixed signals remembering Jungkook’s words of advice. “ Never-”

“ A dildo, vibrator, hitachi wand, or even my favorite pillow,” you trail off not thinking much until you realize who you are confessing to. “ I-I uh…”

“ How often?,” Taehyung asked quietly, not wanting any other people hearing the conversation. He shouldn’t get turned on but he is.

Something about Taehyung’s deep quiet voice is making you squeeze your thighs, “ Every night…” You're still looking at the pond, watching the ripples that are caused by the ducks swimming away. You can feel Taehyung's stare but you ignore it. The conversation switches to another topic when you talk about your school work. The sun sets and you both part ways.

The sound of tea kettle wakes you up from your concentration of you sketching, sighing you pour yourself the tea. Looking at your art, you turn it over not wanting to see Taehyung’s face right now. But fate has different plans when you hear knocking on the door, Taehyung appears, he lets himself in and is close to your face.

“ Taehyung?” You’re puzzled at his frazzled state, deeply staring into your eyes. 

“ Can I kiss you?” The words are quiet but firm. Stupidly you nod, not caring about any consequences. His hands cup your face, immediately going into the kiss. The kisses get deeper, his hands travel to your hips bringing you closer to him quickly, you lose friction from the fluffy socks you're wearing causing you to slip, immediately grabbing Taehyung as you fall backwards. His hands are quick to save himself from not falling onto you. There’s a slight pain on your tailbone but is immediately forgotten when Taehyung goes back to kissing you.

The big t-shirt you are wearing is tossed, his hands immediately fondle your breast, his lips leaving kisses on your neck, groaning as he pushes his bulge against your clothed core. “ Taehyung...let me touch you,” you moan when he bites your neck. He pulls back, pecking your lips before taking off his clothes. Your hands trail against his chest, his stomach, towards his pelvic, trying to remember every part of him. He is surprised to have you touching him like he was some marvel statue, usually his past hookups just rush into the sex. It’s very intimate and he doesn’t know how to feel about it.

 Taehyung groans when you touch his dick, he’s hard and wants to be inside of you already. He comes down kissing you, his hands get rid of your panties, fingers spreading your wetness. The moans you let out are turning him on even more, he stretches you out with his fingers. He likes the way your eyes flutter, the shape of your lips tremble, along with your chest inhaling and exhaling deeply. “ You are so pretty,” he doesn’t mean to say it loudly but he does. There’s a blush that blooms on your cheeks, it reminds him of the flowers you would get to study paint.

“ Taehyung,” you moan slightly flustered at his compliment. He reaches for his pants grabbing a condom. “ You don’t want to go to the bedroom?” The floor is still cold against your back, and the last time you cleaned the floor was days ago. 

Taehyung shakes head, already putting on the condom not wanting to waste time, “ Too far,” he smiles when you laugh. He enters you feeling you clench tightly around, he moans digging his head into your neck. “ You are so tight,” he groans. “ Feels so fucking good, having you like this,” he confesses.

You moan loudly, his thick cock streching “ Oh fuck, Taehyung, please just fuck me,” your hands go to his waist urging him to move. He listens to your command, thrusting slowly trying to get deep as he can. Maybe if you can close your eyes you can pretend that he’s in love with you. He goes faster and cries at the pace he’s going, the pleasure is overwhelming, something that you can’t get with your own hands. “ I’m close already,” your hand goes to tug at his wavy hair.

“ Me too,” his voice is deeper. His hand travels down to your pussy searching for your clit and rubbing it. “ Come for me,” he says into your ear. You moan his name loudly, cumming around his cock, scratching his back. The sight of you creaming around him makes him immediately come, he searches for your lips, moaning your name in the kiss. The two of you lay in the afterglow of the sex, panting loudly his body is barely being hold up, and you laying on the hard floor.

Taehyung gets up throwing his condom away, he looks at you still laying on the floor with your eyes close, the realization of him having sex with you just popped up. He hurriedly gets dressed, then helps you get dressed, he gets shocked when you kiss him as a thank you. The next morning Taehyung wakes up early, making sure to leave quietly, not wanting to disrupt your sleep.

---

You weren’t going to lie, it kind of hurt not waking up beside Taehyung but you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up. Namjoon invites you to a kick back, only inviting a few people to his house to chill and drink. You take solace on the couch, watching people get high and drunk, you weren’t in the mood to do either so you make conversation with a slightly high Hoseok. He’s in mid-discussion about Shrek being a cinematic masterpiece, when Jungkook yells from the door entrance that he has Taco Bell. Taehyung is beside him wearing all black beanie, crewneck, and sweatpants, but still looks better than half of the people here.

 You turn your gaze back to Hoseok who’s left walking towards Jungkook immediately grabbing a taco. Sighing you decide to get fresh air, staring at the tall dark buildings. “ Whatcha you doing here by yourself? It’s fucking freezing,” Taehyung speaks out closing the slider door standing by you. He takes off his vape pen inhaling it.

“ Wanted fresh air,” you shrug, still staring at the buildings. “ Hoseok left me for tacos. He was onto something, saying that Shrek is a masterpiece. Who knows maybe he’ll write his thesis about it.” Taehyung chuckles, he keeps looking at you and you finally stare at him. “ Why’d you kiss me yesterday?”

He blows out the smoke, and puts his pen away, “ Cuz I wanted to,” he shrugs not thinking much about it. 

“ Nothing else?” You arch your eyebrow.

He continues to stare into your eyes “ Nope,” he shakes his head.  

Some part of you wanted him to say that he had feelings for you but in the back of your mind you knew that wasn’t going to happen. You smile pushing his chest, “ Well that’s the last time we are ever going to do anything like that.” The both of you know that is a lie.

---

For the next couple of months you and Taehyung continue sleeping with each other.

When you are studying with Namjoon in the library, Jungkook and Taehyung spontaneously show up, causing Namjoon to groan. “ You know you love me,” Jungkook jokingly says sitting next to him. 

Taehyung sits down next to you, looking at your classwork, “ How long have you been studying,” he whispers. 

You turn to look at the time of your phone, “ Like four hours,” you sigh. He hands you a jolly rancher, you immediately put in your mouth. “ Why are you here? You texted me that you were going to take a fat ass nap?”

“ I wanted to see you, kind of missed you,” he lays his head against the table. His eyes close when you brush his soft hair. 

“ I’ll be done in forty minutes.” He lets off a quiet okay continuing to look at you doing your work. 

Taehyung wakes up to you caressing his cheek, his neck is in pain from the awkward position he slept in. “ Where did Jungkook and Namjoon go?,” he looks at the empty seats. He tries to crack his neck and watches you pack your stuff.

“ They left about twenty minutes ago,” you get up stretching your legs. “ Let’s head home. We still have left over pizza,” you groan at the pain on your lower back. 

For some odd reason Taehyung liked hearing you say home, there’s some comfort it gives him but he never says it out loud. Taehyung grabs your backpack, holding it for you as you walk towards your car. You look in the fridge for the pizza, but Taehyung has other plans when he closes the fridge door, pinning you against it kissing you feverishly, his tongue already begging for entrance. Laughing you push him away, “ What’s gotten into you?”

“ I told you...I miss you,” his hands are on your waist. He kisses you again, picking you up easily and placing you on the kitchen table. He takes off your pants and panties, and you reach for his pants but he stops you forcing you to lie completely on the table. “ Look at you, laying so pretty on the table,” he bends down kissing you on your lips before he goes down on you. 

He licks your cunt, gently prodding his tongue up and down. Your hips move frantically wanting to feel more of him. His rough hands pin your hips, and he continues with his teasing, lightly kissing your clit before touring you with his slow pace.  “ Look at your pussy, it looks like the roses you painted yesterday…,” his finger goes up and down your folds.

The words make your cheeks grow hot, “ No it doesn’t,” you get shy shaking your head. The embarrassment fills your body, for maybe shamelessly liking his compliment. You are probably never going to look at roses the same way ever again.

“ Yeah, it does Y/N, but your pussy is more pretty,” he continues to tease you. Wanting to see you get more flustered, he likes it when you do it gets him more turned on. “ I wonder if it smells like roses too,” he’s about to smell your pussy but you hold his head. He watches you cutely shake your head. 

Taehyung is filthy but it makes you get even more aroused. “ It won’t,” you whisper, wanting to cry but he shakes his kissing the inside of your thigh to try to comfort you. 

He smells your pussy and he groans, your heart thumps faster and nervous for what's about to say, “ It smells better,” he kisses your clit. His tongue keeps tracing your folds gently wanting to make you beg for more. The movement of his tongue makes you want to pull your own hair out. The pleasure is barely there but it grows within each second of his tongue flicking up and down.

“ Taehyung,” you let out desperate whine, “ please, I need more.” One of his hands slap your cunt, and your back arches surprise but even more turned on. You never knew that you were into that. The sting hurts at first but shoots up ecstasy after a nanosecond, you can’t help but seek more. “ More!” 

Taehyung lets out a dark chuckle, he gives you another slap, slightly harder on the center of your clit, the stinging making your face scrunch up but letting out a lewd moan. He groans at your wetness seeping out some of it landing on the table.

Suddenly, he is done with all the teasing, and dives in, nose touching your clit and tongue inside your entrance going in and out. Finding it extremely hot that you are riding his face, like the pillow on your bed. Taehyung vividly remembers when you showed him how you ride your pillow last week. The way you desperately let out cute whines trying so hard to relieve yourself as Taehyung only watched, wanting to see you get off without his help. 

He moves his face side to side so his nose can rub your clit. Head in the clouds, your body is floating with ecstasy wanting to stay in it forever. Your hands reach down trying to anchor yourself, Taehyung reaches for your hand holding it tight. You cry out his name loudly, coming intensely, your eyes are shut when it doesn’t seem to stop. Your body finally calms down, looking down you see Taehyung’s face is completely wet. “ Oh my god, did I-

“ Fuck, that was hot,” Taehyung wipes his face with the back his arm. He kisses your lips, he helps you from the table, handing you your panties. 

“ Let me repay you?,” you tug at his belt loop, you look down to see the bulge is gone and there’s a wet stain. Your eyes widen, “ Did you come?”

“ Yeah, you squirting on me, made me bust a nut. I swore I never came that hard either,” he sighs happily. Laughing you go towards the fridge, finally eating the cold pizza. You hand him one and he eats it in two bites. “ My mom called me today…”

Taehyung hardly talks about his family, you only know that he was raised only by his mother. He never talked bad about her but you can tell that they didn’t have a close  relationship. “ What happened?” You and Taehyung move so you're sitting on the couch.

“ She told me that my father wanted to meet up with me,” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “ Told her that I don’t want to. She started crying and telling me that he’s my father...I sometimes think she’s still in love with him. She’s an idiot.” He lays his back staring at the ceiling.

“ Sometimes it’s hard to get over someone that you once loved. The one you shared your laughs, arguments, touches, memories...vanish into thin air... or you could hold onto it. Love isn’t easy...it’s messy, it’s confusing but it’s beautiful being able to share it with someone. Don’t you think?” You look at Taehyung’s side profile.

Taehyung turns his head looking at you, “ I don’t know...I will never fall in love. I don’t want to end up like my parents,” he closes his eyes.

“ Taehyung-“

He opens his eyes smiling, grabbing your hands, “ Let’s head to bed,” already over the conversation. 

---

Jungkook is cooking breakfast and almost burns his hand when a random girl walks out of Taehyung’s room. Immediately she exits their apartment, doing the walk of shame. Taehyung walks out shirtless with hickies on his chest and dishevelled hair. Jungkook clears his throat, “ Thought you were seeing Y/N,” he turns off the stove.

Taehyung grabs a glass of water, “ We are just friends,” he takes several gulps.

Jungkook scoffs rolling his eyes at his friend’s stupidity, “ Yeah, friends who have sex, hold hands, and almost spend every night together. My bad I forgot they changed the definition of ‘friends’ in the Webster dictionary.”

“ Whatever man...I'm out of here,” Taehyung leaves the kitchen going to his room. He looks at himself in the mirror, disgusted at his appearance, at the splotchy marks on his neck. Why am I like this? Taehyung leaves his apartment ignoring Jungkook, entering your apartment with his set of keys. He looks at you cooking pancakes, you look at him quickly and smiling.

“ Hey...you want some? It’s your favorite banana pancakes,” you flip the pancake. He looks at the big stack of pancakes you have on the table, you continue with the last couple of pancakes and sit down taking a couple of bites. You are consumed by the taste, not really focusing on Taehyung until he clears his throat, looking at him you notice marks on his neck. Your heart plummets, you thought the whole time the two of you have been messing around he wasn’t seeing anyone else. “ You hooked up with someone else yesterday?,” you set your utensils down.

Taehyung nods trying to look nonchalant, “ Yeah, is that a problem?” 

“ No,” you try to lie to yourself but it’s no use, your face looks the opposite of how you feel, disheartening, you can’t save face even if your life's on the line. Swallowing hard you shake your head, “ Actually, yes. It is a problem,” you sigh. “ I don’t understand you. You treat me like a lover, but then you do things like this…” you get up from the kitchen table tossing the plates in the sink, not caring that you didn’t finish the meal, “ I open my heart with you but you don’t do the same. I feel used in this relationship or whatever the hell this is,” your hands clenched tightly as you turn around and face Taehyung.

He’s now by the kitchen counter standing up, “ I told you I’m not looking for love. I’m sorry if I gave you mixed feelings but I don’t want this to end whatever we have with each other. I like how things are-”

You scoff, rolling your eyes at his words, “ Well I don’t...if you want to fuck around then do it... I’m not going to care for you like I love you anymore.” The angry tears stream down your face, your hands wipe them before he could, “ Go Taehyung. I wish you the best,” his face is etched with subtle pain, turning away from him you wash the dishes not bothering to look at the sound of him leaving.

---

Three days later

Taehyung hasn’t been sleeping well, tossing and turning, giving up completely and decides to study all night long. This has been a daily occurrence since the fight with you. I’m not going to care for you like I love you anymore. Taehyung groans, wanting to get the image of you out of his brain. Jungkook knocks on his door, eyes widening at the sight of him, “ You look like shit, c’mon Namjoon is having another get together.”

When Taehyung shows up to the party he watches you have a conversation with Hoseok, from a far distant, unsure how you would react if you saw him. Taehyung waits till Hoseok leaves, walking towards you as you are on your phone texting someone. He watches you jolt as he calls your name. “ Hey,” you greet him but there’s no smile or warmth like you usually greet. And he hates it, it makes him feel like a stranger.

“ About the last time, I’m sorry that we got into an argument,” Taehyung apologizes, he tucks his hands in his pockets, a nervous tick he developed when he was elementary. 

“ Ok,” you nod your head, not wanting to discuss something so private in a social setting. “ I should get going, I got a research paper to go over,” you give him one last glance and leave, not saying goodbye to anyone else.

Taehyung doesn’t like the way your back faces him, leaving him all alone with a place full of people. He pushes against people not wanting to let you go so easily, he wants to talk to you, he wants to hear you talk. He wants to lay in your bed and listen to your heart beat while you stroke his hair, letting him fall asleep in your arms. You're opening your car door, and you halt when he calls your name, you wait patiently for what he’s going to say. Please stay.  “ I-I uh...I wish you the best, Y/N” Taehyung says. He watches you give him one last small smile and drive away. 

---

Six months later

Taehyung hates visiting his mother, there’s always something unsettling when he enters his childhood home. As soon as greets his mother she comments about his weight, his slightly long wavy hair, and baggy clothes. She doesn’t ask him college, she never does. Instead he listens to her talk about her work. “ I told your father that you're in town,” she says over the sound of the faucet. Taehyung nods, handing her the dirty dishes, “ I told him you are free tomorrow, you are going to visit him at IHOP,” she leaves no room for argument. 

The sun wakes up Taehyung before his alarm does, he doesn’t really put in effort to look nice but when his mother gives him a look, he changes into something more appropriate. Maybe if Taehyung was in middle school he would be nervous meeting his father but now that he’s an adult he couldn’t care less. It takes him a while to find his father, he looks older from his adolescent years, has a few gray hairs and slightly wrinkled skin. His father stands up, and Taehyung immediately holds his hand out giving him a handshake not wanting to receive an awkward hug. His father looks surprised but compiles, awkwardly laughing and sits down taking a gulp of his hot black coffee. “ I ordered your favorite,” his father points to the triple drizzle chocolate milkshake with a red cherry on top that is set in front of Taehyung. “ How are you kiddo? You look so grown up, your mother has been feeding you well, huh?”

“ Yup.” Taehyung looks at the red cherry. 

There’s too much uncomfortable tension, and his father is letting more awkward coughs to try to fill the silence. “ Almost done with college, yeah? Just three more months, and you gotta face the real world,” his father comments.

Taehyung has been facing the real world since he was a teenager, he worked when he was in highschool to pay for college, he cooked his own dinner because his mother always came home late, he didn’t need to graduate college to find out the world was shitty. “ Yeah.”

His father tries really hard to have some sort of conversation with his son.“ You still like to paint?”

Taehyung smiles, getting reminded of you. He wonders what you are doing right now, if you are painting the canvas he bought you when you guys were friends. “ No. I mean yeah, sorta. I painted with this girl, she made me fall back in love with painting but I did something horrible to her. Now I can’t paint without thinking about her,” he sighs. 

There’s surprise etched on his father’s face, since more than a word came out of his son’s mouth. “ Seems like a very important person to you. You should talk things out with her, don’t want to lose someone like that.” 

Taehyung rolls his eyes, “ Why? You did the same thing to us.”

“ Taehyung-”

“ You really fucked me up father, I hate that you and mom made me this way. I want to love her but I’m scared...what if she ends up leaving me like you did. I rather be alone for the rest of my life than to have someone steal a part of me,” Taehyung grits his teeth.

“ I-I I’m sorry Taehyung...I really am. I hate myself everyday for not visiting you, I should’ve been there for you...Your mother and I once loved each other but sometimes people fall out of love, but that doesn’t mean love is evil. Don’t give up on love because of our failed marriage, son, you deserve to be in love.”

---

One week later

“ Fuck, watch where you going asshole,” you yell at the asshole who wasn’t paying attention that made you drop all of your art supplies. He doesn’t even bother apologizing, just continues to walk with his friends. You pick up your pencils, someone helps you pick up your other materials. “ Thank-” you stop midway when your eyes are met with Taehyung. He hands you the sketchpads, you quickly put it in your bag, “ Thanks.”

“ No problem. You just got out of class?,” he asked intently looking at you.

His hair is pushed back by his headband, showing his forehead, he’s wearing his usual baggy grandpa clothes. It makes your heart flutter, but you quickly push the feeling away. “ Yeah, but I have to go back to pick up my two pieces,” you shrug. 

“ You need a hand?” He offers with a careful smile.

You contemplate, you don’t want to make two trips, “ If you’re not busy…”

He eagerly shakes his head. “ I’m not, let me help.” Taehyung follows you to the art room, and picks up the pieces easily despite it being large canvases. There’s silence when you are done putting it in your car. 

“ Thank you,” you give him a grateful smile. “ Do you need to ride home?”

Taehyung took his car to campus but he lies, he accepts your offer in hopes that you guys can talk things over. The radio is on low, and Taehyung is almost near his apartment, “ I lied I don’t need a ride,” he starts off and you let out a surprise laugh.

“ Why are you just telling me now?,” you are about two minutes from the destination. 

“ I wanted to talk to you about what happened to us-”

You sigh, not wanting to reopen bandage wounds on your heart, “ Taehyung, I’m over it-” 

His head turns to face you, “ I love you. I think I always loved you since we became friends. I was scared to tell you because it was something so new for me...I was selfish, I thought that everything we had was fine but I never took your feelings into consideration.” He’s breathing really hard because he finally confessed his heart out, something he vowed he’ll never do since he was a child. 

“ Why? Why now?,” you swallow hard, not looking at him but only the road. Scared that if you look into his eyes, you’ll get lost into them. 

“ It took me a while to come in terms with how I am feeling. Because love is messy right?,” his voice cracks.

The car is now parked in his driveway, “ Yeah, it is.” Turning to finally face him, he has little tears in his eyes that haven’t fallen. “ I still love you, Taehyung,” your hand touches his soft cheek, caressing it. Taehyung leans closer to you and you close your eyes expecting a kiss, instead he sobs against your neck. Feeling wet tears against your neck, you try to coddle him but the tight space in the car is not giving you any room to do so. “ Tae, why are you crying?,” you comb the back of his curls.

Taehyung pulls away giving you a tearful smile, “ Because for the first time in my life I know what love is.”

end.

[troubatrain]

the times with a little secret...

two blurbs following want you to want me

read the rest here!

You were late.

Historically, as someone who got their period at the same time every month, it was concerning. You counted on your fingers, taking yourself back to a time Matthew was awfully convincing and you slipped up. You were sitting out of the same dock you kissed him for the first time on, Matthew’s stupid smirk and overgrown curls were really all it took to make you forget all about the fact that you weren’t using protection. You sigh, holding back tears and running your hands down your face.

Matthew wanted to be a father, but talking a bunch of shit when he was in a sappy mood and actually having a baby were two very different things. You’d been together for two years, and in that time you’d grown up together, but children just seemed like something you weren’t ready for yet. He had so much to work for still, and so did you.

And when you finally got that test, the little pink plus sign broke you. You were pregnant, and you were all alone in Chicago while Matthew got a few things ready before he headed to Calgary for the season. Matthew would call soon, just like he always did on his ride home from the rink.

Matthew knew something was wrong, just by the first crack in your voice when he answered. You’d been crying and he was going to figure out why. He scratched his face, eyes staring at the road in front of him while a part of him debated how quickly he could get to Chicago, “You alright pretty girl?”

“Yeah, everything’s just, fuck, fine,” You say, wiping away your tears and knocking that test to the floor. You weren’t convincing by any means, and Matthew saw through every facade you had, “I’m fine, really I just, uh got to go-”

Matthew opened his mouth to protest, push you a little hard to tell him what’s going on but before he had a chance you hung up the phone. He hit his steering wheel, frustrated that you weren’t telling him the truth when that was the promise you both made. He wondered if he’d done something wrong, but for once in his life Matthew really thought he was innocent.

So he drove the four hours.

It took him a little longer than expected, but Matthew knew what he had to do. He turned his car in the opposite direction of your house, heading up to Chicago without a second thought. It was seven by the time he’d gotten there, opening the door to an empty apartment and a pit in his stomach he couldn’t quite explain. He searched the place, looking for something to point him in the right direction as to why you were acting so weird on the phone.

You went running, you didn’t know what else to do so you just ran. If you kept going you wouldn’t have to face the reality that there was a person growing inside of you and your entire life was going to change. It didn’t stop your mind from racing, thinking about having to tell Matthew and how you were going to tell your families. He wouldn’t leave, you were almost sure of it, but what if he did? It was all you could think about when you walked back into your place, your eyes catching a familiar tuft of curls in the living room.

Matthew was standing there, the entire apartment filled up with bouquets of flowers because he couldn’t pick just one. He was happy, eyes brimming with tears when he finally saw you because this was going to be a moment he never forgets, “Hi.”

“Hi,” You breathe out, feet planted to the floor because you just couldn’t process this fast enough.

“I knew something was up, and then I found the test in the bathroom,” Matthew explains, stepping across to the room to stand in front of you. His hands were on your cheeks, his thumbs gently grazing over the skin, “I didn’t think it was possible to love you more, but babe, I think I do.”

“I’m really scared,” You whisper, letting Matthew wipe away your tears.

“I’m sure you are,” Matthew hums, pressing his lips to your forehead. You found out alone, Matthew was miles away and he knew you were probably freaking out, “I’m here now, we’re together, and it’s going to be okay.”

You smile at his optimism, the way no matter what Matthew would tell you that he would always be there and he’d go to the ends of the earth to fix whatever made you upset, “You sound so sure about this-”

“You’re the best teammate I’ve ever had,” Matthew was sure of himself when he said it, “And I don’t want to do this life thing with anyone else.”

“We’re having a baby,” You nod, Matthew’s hands falling to your stomach and resting there gently, “I’m happy you’re on my team.”

“I’m happy too, captain,” Matthew winks, playing into that same silly joke he always made about how he was just along for the ride, “Can we keep it a secret for now? Just our little family?”

Our little family. The words felt so right when you heard them from Matthew, your arms wrapping around his waist so you could press your head against his chest.

“Brady’s going to give you so much shit for knocking me up.”

“Oh I know, it’s going to be brutal, but worth every second Mama.”

***

Daddy’s hiding something from you.

You stop, turning your attention to your three year old who was sitting at the kitchen island playing with a Cheerio that was in his bowl. Max talked a lot for his age, and it came with a bad habit of repeating his father’s colorful language. Another thing was Matthew couldn’t sneak anything past you because of Max, who was just as nosey as you were, and Max ratted out his father every chance he had.

“What’s daddy hiding from me?” You ask, watching the way Max turned his attention to something else because he was in cahoots with his father and swore he wouldn’t tell a soul, “Maxy-”

“No, daddy told me not to tell you, not even for chocolate,” Max crosses his arms, standing his ground as much as a toddler could, “He said, hide this until I tell you Maxy, but don’t tell mommy.”

You furrow your brows, turning your head and wondering what the fuck your son was hiding that you hadn’t found yet. Your attention turned to the sound of your front door opening, Matthew barreling in post practice with a smile on his face like he wasn’t turning your son into a stealth liar and it would end up biting you both in the ass when he got older. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, sneaking behind Max and kissing him too. The two of them looked like twins, the same mop of curls on their heads while Max’s dimpled smile appeared the biggest when he was with his dad. His nineteen chain hung around his neck, Matthew’s gift to his son because you both wore it and he hoped Max would too. He was Matthew’s carbon copy, down to his ability to sneak things past you and cause chaos.

“Max was just telling me you’re hiding something from me,” You smirk, leaning against the counter and looking at Matthew, “Care to explain?”

“Dude,” Matthew scoffs, looking at Max, “I thought we agreed this was a no telling mommy deal?”

“Like when we get ice cream after my skating lessons?” Max asks, turning his head to his father. Matthew threw his head back, sighing at the fact that you definitely weren’t going to say yes now.

“I knew you weren’t hitting traffic every week,” You sigh, giving Matthew a look, “No bribes for hockey, we talked about this.”

And you did. Sometime before Max was born you both had a lengthy conversation about the whole sports thing. One professional athlete for a parent would be a lot for a kid, let alone two, and you both promised you wouldn’t push your own agendas too hard. Did you cheer a little louder at Max’s soccer games? Maybe. But, at least you didn’t bribe him with ice cream on the way home.

“Hey buddy, remember that thing I told you to hide? Can you get it?” Matthew ignores your lecture, knowing fully he wasn’t listening anyways because Max was made to skate. Matthew helped him down, smiling at the toddler who was bound for the playroom you put off cleaning, that’s why you didn’t find it.

“You’re not off the hook for the ice cream, why are you looking at me like that?” You stop, remembering the way Matthew looked at you in your apartment filled with flowers after he found out you were pregnant. It was the same look, blue eyes soft and full of admiration, “Matty-”

“I know we did this a little backwards, and I wanted to wait until your parents were in town to celebrate, but Max has got a mouth like yours,” Matthew starts stepping over to you and putting his hands on your cheeks, “But that’s my point, I love that Max is just like you because you’re the best person I’ve ever met in life. You’re the most amazing mother to our son, and I couldn’t be more grateful for the way you handle parenthood with more grace than I could ever have. And to me, god, you were everything I ever wanted when we were kids Y/N, you know that? You still are, and you’re always going to be. I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to watch you shine, and take you home at the end of the night. I told my mom I’d marry you one day, I’m hoping you’ll give me the chance.”

By the time Matthew had finished his speech, in the middle of your kitchen in Calgary while Max’s cereal was thrown across the counter, your son had come back with a velvet box in his hand. He handed it to Matthew, climbing on Matthew’s leg because he had no clue while his father was down on one knee, but you knew, “Go ahead little dude, you can ask her now.”

“Mommy, will you marry daddy?” Max asks, giving you the very best smile your three year old could come up with. You could tell they practiced this, only solidifying the million reasons why you’d say yes.

“Yes,” You nod, covering your mouth while tears were brimming your eyes. You look at your two boys, who both looked at you like you put the sun in the sky just for them. Matthew let Max down, pressing a kiss to your lips like he wasn’t in the room.

“I love you,” Matthew breathes, pressing one more peck to your lips, “Wifey sounds good doesn’t it?”

“It does,” You hum, admiring the ring Matthew slipped on your left hand he left vacant for a little too long. Life was hectic for you, but he was tired of waiting for the right time when he knew he had the right girl the entire time. You pressed one more kiss to Matthew’s lips, hearing a protest from the little boy below you.

“Ew, that’s gross.”

“One day you’re gonna like a girl this much and Uncle Brady and I are going to make fun of you for it Maxy.”

[sero-para-el-pueblo]

Okay so, Sero Latino headcanons and just headcanons in general bc I love him and I’m procrastinating studying for my finals. I have also been thinking about all the difficulties that being a foreigner has with language and culture and staff. Also, imma project a little bit so bear with me

When Sero and his parents moved to Japan, Sero didn’t know Japanese he knew only the basics and bc of these he probably was really good at subjects that don’t have letters on them

Like, Sero it’s really good at math because numbers are numbers and he just had to follow the teaches method,

when class 1-a find out hes good at math they're like how are you so good and he's jsut like "bueno plebes, when you move across the world you have to find ways to remember yourself you're not dumb just don't know the language"

he’s probably also really good at sports and English

Although being in an environment where Japanese was all he hear helped Sero picked Japanese fairly easy he still had a period of time where he was failing most of his classes bc his Japanese wasn't the best

Even after like 5 years of being in Japan there are expression he doesn’t quite get or like Japanese pop culture or classics he doesn’t know and he feels alienated for not knowing them and the bakusquad try to make him feel better by explaining stuff to him

Okay but like imagine Bakugo aggressively making Sero feel better

“Listen soy face you were raised in another fucking culture it’s not your fucking fault you don’t know this shit, who the fuck even cares”

Speaking of Bakugo it’s his birthday today so imagine Sero barging into boom boom boys room at 6 in the morning singing las mañanitas

also Sero's mom made a 3 leches cake for Bakugo and he loved it

In Spanish word have a lot of different meaning like so in my Mexican mind the equivalent of saying “bet” when someone says something it’s “jaló” however it also means to pull

So imagine after Sero has taught some Spanish to class 1-a someone asks him to go somewhere and Sero it’s like jaló, and everyone it’s like the fuck?? So Sero has to explain Mexican slang to the class

A few hours later when Aizawa comes back he finds half of the class arguing about the correct way of using words like “pedo”, “madre”, “verga” and Midoriya it’s taking notes at light speed and the other half are trying to stop Bakugo from blowing Denki's face bc he keeps using the words wrong

Idk if it’s just my Mexican dad or all dad are like this but whenever something in the house needs fixing my dad would just make it worse or get mad at everybody bc he can’t fix it or take forever to even look at it

But imagine Sero's dad it’s like that so Sero's mom took it to herself to learn how to fix stuff around the house so Sero's got stuck helping his mom fix stuff so now he’s just really good at it

So now every time something needs fixing at the dorms Sero just fixes it

Imagine bakudeku knocking at Sero's door bc they were fighting and they accidentally broke the sink for the 4 time that month and they need to fix

“Sero we need help-” “safo Rey ” (I think this is the equivalent as touching your nose to signal your not gonna do it?? Idk) Sero ended up fixing it just before Aizawa was back

I just rewatch Coco so imagine class 1-a celebrating Día de Los Muertos (day of the dead) putting up the altar and all and Aizawa and All Might walk in when the class it's finishing up and Aizawa it's like 'Sero why are you putting flower petals in the floor?' and Sero it's like 'oh to guide the dead safely on their way back' "... okay that doesn't answer my question"

Aizawa and All Might end up watching Coco and at the end All Might ask the class if it's okay he wants to put a picture on the altar too

the next morning the altar has two new pictures, a lady with black hair and a smiley boy sitting on what seems a cloud, although the class wants to ask about the boy a look on Aizawa's face stops all questions.

I made myself cry with the last one my bad y'all

okay onto happier topics imagine that Spanish slang doesn't stop at the students but also reaches the teacher

imagine Present mic screaming "fierro" or "a huevo" it drives Aizawa crazy

Mexican people tend to be really religious and even tho Sero doesn't really believe in religion he does things like giving the bakusquad la bendicion every time any of them go out like it started after Kiri got hurt rescuing Eri so now Sero does it all the time

Bakugo acts as it bothers him but he would stay still in from of Sero and be like "what the fuck are waiting for do your stupid thing so I can go"

Sero also insist on giving la bendicion to Miroriya bc the lord knows the boy needs it, fuck it the rest of the class didn't want to be left out so they also demand to be given la bendicion

Also if you speak two languages you know you get a brand new personality when you swish language

Sero get more confident, cocky, and flirty when he speaks Spanish he would flirt with anyone specially Bakugou and Denki he would purposely role his “r” to mess with bakugou

[feelin-woozy]

Title: With Teeth

Word Count: 1,808

Pairing: Bo Sinclair / Reader

Warnings: Gender-neutral reader

[ Ao3 Link | Next ]

1977

You were a stubborn child. If there was trouble to be found, it was probable that you had a hand in either creating it or seeking it out. Bo Sinclair wasn’t an exception to this. Bo was the kind of child that parents ushered their young away from, voices dropping to a quiet hush as they told them, ‘no, you can’t play with him.’ The warnings never stopped you.

You never really knew why, only ever hearing fragments of conversations of adults around you. They spoke with contempt dripping from each word as they detailed how he was trouble, how he would be a bad influence, and why couldn’t he be more like his brother? But you didn’t mind. You liked trouble, and besides, you weren’t afraid of Bo like all the other kids were. Even with all his jagged edges and mean looks, you didn’t know any better because to you, he was just Bo.

Even when he pushed you to the ground, blue eyes shining with that mean look and something you think was amusement as your own eyes welled with tears and your freshly scraped knees stung. You weren’t afraid. You didn’t stop playing with him even when he stuck gum in your hair, and your mother had to cut it out. But you remember her scolding you, speaking in that same voice you heard other adults speak in, telling you that ‘There’s something wicked about that boy.’

For every time he pushed you down, there would be a time that you stuck your foot out as he ran by. While those mean blue eyes never glistened with tears, the shock was apparent as he dusted the dirt off himself and pulled himself together. And then there was the time you put glue on his seat during class. No one knew it was you, but Bo never put gum in your hair again after that.

1986

Things didn’t change all that much as you got older. Bo was still a boy with jagged edges that, if you weren’t careful with, they’d cut you to the bone. But he didn’t push you to the ground anymore or try to stick gum in your hair like when you were kids. It didn’t mean that he was any less aggressive than when you were kids; if anything, it has crossed the threshold from aggressive to violent. It wasn’t directed at you anymore though, it had shifted to those around you. After all, you were the only one not afraid to clean the drying blood that caked his freshly split lip or to tend to purples and greens that would bloom over knuckles. Save for his brothers, but even then, sometimes they didn’t fare so well either.

A warm breeze rustles the trees as rays of sunshine peek through the thick canopy of leaves overhead. The July heat was unrelenting. It didn’t matter where you were in Ambrose; you always felt like you were melting. Still, Bo didn’t forgo his long sleeve button down. You didn’t blame him, nor did you comment on it. Some things were just better left unsaid. At least away from the town and deep in the forest, the two of you could forget about what happened within the sleepy town, even for half a day.

Bo winces as you dab gently at the wound on his lip, but he doesn’t draw back or pitch a fit. He sits there in silence, watching you carefully as if expecting you to salt the wound. You don’t. You know better than to make a scene of this. This, whatever this was, was a part of Bo, and you had come to accept that. Though you’d be lying if you hadn’t thought about leaning in and pressing your lips to his, trying to chase the thoughts of what he might taste like. You quickly shake the thought away, it was unwise to linger on such a thought.

You drawback and toss the rust-stained napkin to the ground before getting to your feet. Bo watches as you move away, moving towards your beat up school bag where you grab two beers. Beads of icy sweat drip down from the bottle and onto your hands; it’s the only reprieve you have in the hot Louisiana heat.

When you turn to face Bo again, he’s leaning back against the thick tree trunk, shadows dancing over his face. You move towards him, twigs snapping below your step as you hand him the bottles without a word, and he works quickly, using his lighter to open each bottle. The cap flies off with a hiss, joining the other caps that decorate the forest floor. Some from you two and some from other teens who took sanctuary within the forest as well.

“Your pa’s gunna notice one day.” He points out, handing you the bottle before opening his own.

“If he hasn’t noticed already, he deserves to have his beer stolen.” You flash him a lopsided smile as you take a seat next to him before you raise the bottle to your lips and take a sip.

For a moment, things feel okay. As if you hadn’t just been patching him back together, as if the cruel words people threw his way didn’t hang over his head like a dark storm cloud. He pretended they didn’t sting, but you knew that they did. Because even if he wasn’t violent towards you, that didn’t mean you didn’t still fall victim to the darkness that festered within him. Sometimes it was as small as throwing the keys to dad's beat-up truck into the tall grass, leaving you to comb the fields for hours before you’d find them. He spat cruel words at you other times, leaving tears to prickle at your waterline, but you never dared cry like when you were kids.

You still didn’t mind. Your penchant for trouble hadn’t changed, and God, if Bo wasn’t the exact brand of trouble that you craved. He made you feel alive within this sleepy little town; he brought excitement to your days even when it made your mother cry. Perhaps it was naive. You knew now why parents warned their kids of Bo growing up. You could see what they saw; you were stupid, not blind. Still, Bo was just Bo, and sure he had those mean blue eyes and sharp edges, but in the time you had grown, you too had accumulated your own edges. You don’t think it was possible to be friends with Bo without being damaged yourself in some form or another.

“Bo?” The name feels heavy in your mouth, as though it was a knife sliding through a priceless piece of art. The dread you felt building in your stomach felt similar.

“Hm?” He doesn’t look at you, just lights a cigarette and passes it over before he lights his own. The action makes guilt bloom alongside the dread, the emotions weaving together to create something ugly that makes bile rise in your throat.

“I have to leave Ambrose.” You take a drag off your cigarette, letting the smoke burn your lungs as the taste of nicotine mixed with bile. You don’t look at him to see his reaction. You can’t bring yourself to. But you feel the way his body stiffens, and you hear the soft sound of the cigarette burning as he takes a drag that burns the cigarette half way.

“Oh.” Is all he says, exhaling the word along with a thick cloud of smoke that billows up and disperses amongst the branches and leaves.

“Dads got a new job in the city.” You explain though you’re not sure why. You don’t know if Bo wants to hear what you have to say or if he’d rather blow his lid over something that was beyond your control. You wouldn’t blame him if he did. If it was him leaving, you’re sure a part of you would wither away. You dare a glance over at him, watching the way his jaw clenches and how he stares off through a break in the trees. “I don’t want to go.”

“Yeah? Then don’t.” A part of him sounds serious, almost hopeful, but it sounds too distant and bitter for you to put any stock into it.

“You know it’s not that easy.” Your hands feel clammy against the chilled bottle in your hand. You take a drink, emptying half the bottle in a few swallows just to distract yourself. To try and fight whatever ugly feelings were clawing at your insides.

“Sure it is, stay with me.” Bo flicks ash off the end of his cigarette before he turns his head just enough to look at you from the corner of his eye. “Ma fuckin’ loves you.”

You can’t help but snort at that, rolling your eyes. “Bo, your mom hates me.”

“Yeah, she does.” Bo chuckles softly, but the mirth is gone as quick as it came, and that distant look rolls over his face again. He gets to his feet, turning to look down at you with an unreadable expression. “But when has that ever stopped you from sneakin’ into my room?”

“I’ll come back, I promise.”

“I wouldn’t bother.” The way he looks at you as those words leave his lips, it makes you feel like a kid again. You stare up at him, and something inside you aches. It hurts worse than the times he caused you to scrape your knees against the dirt roads or the times he kicked you out of his truck and made you walk ten miles back into Ambrose in the pouring rain.

He doesn’t sneer at you, and he doesn’t even yell, just stares at you with that mean look before turning on his heels. You watch him go, watch the way he drains the rest of his beer, and you listen to the sound of twigs breaking beneath his heavy step. When he’s a fair distance away, you watch the way he tosses the bottle hard against a tree. The sound of glass shattering fills the air alongside the sound of birds taking startled flight.

_____

Bo doesn’t see you off when you’re leaving Ambrose. You hadn’t expected him to though, he had been avoiding you since you broke the news to him. It wasn’t as if you could really blame him. It was probably better this way. It was less volatile to cut out the catalyst than to continue to expose yourself to it. Still, you knew that he was around. The boy down the block with shaggy blonde hair was sporting a fresh black eye, and you had heard your mother's hushed whispers as she gabbed with the neighbors about him. But even if you hadn’t been expecting him, it still hurts you never got to say goodbye.

[ Next ]

[sardonyxie]

Hockey Pucks and Cricuts

Veterans!ModernAU - Levi Squad Edition

These are simply the result of my imagination during a zoom class (Preschool intervention if I remember correctly) and of some ideas thrown in by my best friend/roommate. Some facts were thought of from canon perspective, but most of them are just our five idiots in our everyday world. Enjoy!

Warning: Rivetra content and some swearing! If it’s not your thing and you want to hate, scroll down and move on. 

English isn’t my first language. If some sentences sound weird or wrong, let me know so I can correct them!

Word count: 1 173

Miche squad is up!

Levi 

(Inspired by this)

- He’s from Canada and speaks French. Nobody (except Mikasa) understands him when he’s cursing the others, but they are still scared shitless. When a stranger is being stupid, he makes sarcastic comments in their face by talking about it in French to Mikasa.

- He’s Mikasa’s cousin, but they might as well consider themselves siblings since they spend a lot of time at each other’s house. Both Kuchel and her younger brother, Mikasa’s father, moved for a better life…

- Introduced Eld to hockey and plays with him. Oruo tagged along one day and also got into it.

- Only lets Gunther sit at the front when he’s driving them all since Petra has horrible music taste, Eld can’t follow directions and Oruo bites is tongue to every bump on the road.

- I consider him as street smart. In this case, he learns languages effortlessly and quickly and knows how to get out of a situation by using that skill (and his fists). Never got below an A for those classes in highschool.

- Even if he doesn’t show it very well, he cares a lot about the others and actually offers the most thoughtful presents out of everyone in the squad. He’s a good listener.

Eld

- Is actually from Australia. He moved in the neighborhood when he was five but still has an accent when he speaks. He is Oruo’s next door neighbor and often goes to his house when he wants a tasty snack.

- Plays hockey and actually prefers winter over summer. He’s always down for hockey nights with the other four when the national league is broadcasting its yearly competition. He’s a very dedicated fan of Trost’s Titans.

- Was the type to put everything from his lunchbox in his sandwich. Apple sauce with a ham and mustard sandwich anyone? He still makes strange food mixes nowadays.

- He’s a great photographer and takes pictures for Petra’s shop. However, he can’t pose and often looks silly in pictures.

- Gunther’s best friend. They are THE unbeatable duo at guessing songs. They know pretty much everything from old music to K-pop.

- Plans every vacation trip even if they go oversea. Something always come up in the schedule, but those moments are the highlight of the trip. Petra and he create a travel book for each expedition, and they document it with pictures and anecdotes.

Petra

-  She’s Carla’s first child from her previous marriage. Her dad was in the army and died on duty when she was little. Zeke is a few months older, and they didn’t like each other at first. Now she tolerates him, but they have very opposite point of views in life which sparks some quarrels during diners.

- Half-German from Carla’s side and she speaks the language too.

- Her best girl friend is Nifa.

- She’s all about stationary stuff! She has a super chic bedroom with a beautifully decorated study area. She owns a Cricut machine and makes custom stuff for her friends. She gets inspiration from the people around her and their interests to create cute collections to sell on her Etsy shop.

- Played volleyball along with Hanji, Nifa, Nanaba, and Lynne, and she still coaches her high school team. (Because she mostly has support/team kills in canon, I think she was the setter and glued the team with her sportsmanship and teamwork.)

- Levi and she were the firsts of their entire group of friends to get together. However, they kept it to each other and their immediate family. The others found out when Eren asked Levi if the Ackermans were still coming over for dinner during lunch one day (dang it Eren!).

Gunther

- Fully German, but he was born in Trost and doesn’t speak the language at all.

- The only one not really into sports, but is still active enough to keep a good shape. He was a baryton saxophone player for the jazz band. That being said, he’s still able to follow hockey nights because he plays NHL on his PlayStation and follows the news.

- Levi excluded, Gunther and Petra are the last two brain cells of the group. They almost always chose each other when they did projects or small work. Out of spite, they once decided to do a team of 4 project with Moblit and Nifa instead of Eld and Oruo and to prove they carry the squad.

- Super popular on social media for some reason?

- Dad of the group since day one. He looks scary sometimes, but he’s just a big softie.

- King of the aux cord. I would trust him with my life.

Oruo

- Scottish Oruo anyone? Somehow has a German accent and tries to pick up ladies by speaking very broken Spanish? Calls himself Mr. Worldwide (will make more sense at the end of the list).

- Is favorite cookie? Oreo. “The company should feel blessed about having a cookie with a name like mine” “Oruo they were made before your parents even thought about conceiving you”.

- Because he’s a competitive little shit, he was also part of the swimming team.

- You know when a potato chip brand does a mystery flavour? He always tries to guess it with Moblit and will spend a ton of money to get the cash prize.

   > The thing is: he hates chips. “Those are an abomination why would you eat those when you have popcorn. As much as I LOVE to clean, they are messy, and the stains are hard to remove from the sofa.”

   > Moblit guesses the mystery flavor right all the time, thus making him the winner of all bets and leaving Oruo a little poorer each time.  

- He cares a lot about his friends, even if it doesn’t show because he insults everyone. HOWEVER! If anyone else tries to insult them, he’s going to throw fists and will make people cry with his insults.

- Tried to get into Harvard just to flex.

   > Newsflash: he didn’t.

- Gelgar and he are the party masters. They know how to throw a mean fiesta, and it’s almost always a huge success.

Rivetra bits

- I feel like their relationship just… happened? They were friends one day and next thing you know they were dating.

- Double dates with Mikenana or Mobuhan.

- Mikasa loves Petra and always reminds Levi to marry her one day. On the other hand, Eren was scared of Levi at first and didn’t understand what his half-sister saw in him, but he changed his mind over time. He can’t see anyone else with his big sister now.

   > On that note, Zeke can’t get over the fact that she chose to date is so called “enemy”.

- They don’t like the attention which is why they haven’t said anything for a very long time.

   > However, the other three had a little idea of what was going on, but they are best friend material and kept the info to themselves.

-  Winter. Wedding. Petra with a long sleeve dress and Levi being handsome as always.

___________________

Do we like it? Do we hate it? What happened to the Ackermans in Canada? The Jäger household dynamic would be nuts!

Please let me know your thoughts! Should I do more of these in this AU?

If you have any other verse idea and would like someone to write it up let me know! 

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 24

Bio dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Oh dear, oh dear Lila what a shame this is

First< Previous > Next

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

The next couple of days are... awkward. Dick keeps calling which is nice, they even go for dinner one day dragging Tim along. Tim seems fine, tired but that's hardly unusual. Jason had just straight up disappeared, but Dick had assured them he would be coming to the Wayne Gala that weekend. Speaking of which they had been invited, well they were already going because of MDC stuff but now they were also invited as civilians. The news would have been happy if Damian hadn't stormed out the room when it was mentioned. The next day and the day after that hadn’t improved anything, Damian was completely ignoring them and they weren't the only ones to notice.

“What did you do to upset Dami so much?!” Lila announces rather loudly to the entire cafeteria, “I told you, you were going too far,”

“Lila, and I mean this sincerely, fuck off,” Marion says flatly, he hears Marinette cover a laugh despite swatting at him lightly.

“How dare you?! I’m just trying to look out for him,” Lila sniffles, basking under the attention of her large audience, looking between the girl and Damian. Marion catches Damian's eye, raising a brow basically saying you’re going to let this slide? Apparently he was as Damian looks away from them, and if anything was going to give Lila more believability it’s that.

“Marion are you alright?” Rose asks gently, having tiptoed after Lila with the rest of the class. Had he been looking so downcast she actually noticed?

“I’m fi-” Whatever assurance he was about to give is mute as he feels tears sliding down his cheeks, “Fuck-I just-”

He tries to wipe away the tears, very aware of everyone watching him. It’s starting to get hard to breath when he feels gentle arms wrap around him. It’s Rose. Rose is actually hugging him! It’s been so long he forgot what her hugs felt like. Well if she was trying to stop him from crying that certainly didn’t help matters. He tries to take a calming breath but it comes out more like a sob and soon enough he can’t hold it back anymore. A fine place to break down Mari, really, truly a testament to your skill.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this here,” Lila scoffs, Marion can feel the arms around him tighten, “After all the work I put in for this trip-”

“LILA WOULD YOU JUST STOP!” Alya’s scream makes them all jump back, Marion turning to face the absolutely seething girl, “This is the first time in YEARS we’ve been allowed to feel emotions! So just leave it alone, they’re allowed to be sad!”

“Well-I-its-they-” Lila splutters looking completely blindsided that one of her puppets broke off its strings, clearly she hasn't been paying attention the last few weeks, funny when you save someone's life they tend to listen and care about what you say a bit more. And if that leads to noticing a few more jibes in their direction... well that's just a happy coincidence.

“What is your problem!? You’ve been nothing but nasty to them since we got here!” Well a bit longer than that but good on you for noticing Alya.

“Oh, it’s just been so hard for me!” Lila exclaims, crocodile tears coming in as Marion still tries to wipe off his own, the genuine article at that, “If you had heard some of the things they’ve said to me-”

Lila jumps as Damian appears next to her. He doesn't look at or acknowledge the twins. In fact, he still looks rather pissed but at least some of its directed at Lila this time. He silently hands his phone over to Alya with some hesitation, Lila's eyes go wide. As quickly as he had come he’s gone, disappearing into the crowd that had formed around them.

“What’s-”

“Give it!” Lila screeches, lunging for the phone. Alya jerks back in surprise, Lila’s nails tearing down her arm. Ugly red marks that had broken the skin and gone in deep.

“What the hell!” Alya shouts through tears, clutching her bloody arm as the class crowd around her.

Instead of apologizing Lila tries to snatch the phone in the moment of distraction, but Alix is a hair quicker. She presses play despite Lila shouting threats that made the rest of the class go pale. The recording plays everyone is glued to it. The class becoming increasingly more hysterical. Marinette doesn't wait for it to finish, she gently guides Marion out of the room slipping through the crowd. They hide in an empty classroom, far enough away they can’t hear the outcry that follows.

“Do you think that’s really it, it’s done?” Marion whispers, Marinette is wiping his face with a handkerchief he had always made fun of her for carrying.

“Maybe, I honestly can’t bring myself to care anymore,” Marinette rests her forehead against his, her standing as he sits on a desk, “I thought I’d feel more…”

“Victorious?”

“Yeah,”

“I don’t think there are any winners here,” He can hear someone shouting their names down the hall, voice wobbly with tears, he doesn't care about any apology the can muster, “How lame did I look crying?”

“In front of the whole school like that?”

“Yeah,”

“I’d say it was pretty brave,” She pulls him into a hug, squeezing tight.

“He was just ignoring us,” Marion admits quietly, Lila hadn’t made him cry in a long time, but Damian? Damian did.

“I know,” Marinette pats his head, the same way she would tease him as Chat Noir, “But he did something in the end didn’t he?”

“Oh, gee look at this lame-ass, better make him stop before people associate him with me’,” Marion does an impression not remotely close to Damian, Marinette pinches him.

“That’s not what he was thinking and you know it,”

“Yeah,” Marion sighs, he can hear doors opening and closing now, apologies cast out through the school in hopes they’ll hear them, “What do we do now?”

“Jump out the window?”

So they did end up jumping out the window. Something Alfred had somehow known they were planning because he was waiting right there to pick them up. The debated on actually going to the manor, but their phones were lighting up with messages and the hotel was not an option. The Manor was silent when they arrived. And it remained silent for most of their stay.

Dick had apparently set himself a mission of making them feel at home, whatever that meant, and was nowhere to be seen. He seemed like the only one actually happy to have them join the ragtag family so without him it was likely the others were just avoiding them. That was fine, really, Alfred set them up with a movie and ice cream that they used to ignore everything else.

Dick was their saving grace and the bane of their existence. When he came back he had apparently made the decision they would be staying at the manor for the rest of the trip, despite it only meant to be a few more days(it wasn't for them but he didn’t know that yet). Alfred had apparently told him what happened and he had brought it upon himself to bring their friends, actual friends not classmates to the manor. This was a blessing and a curse as all they seemed to want to do was fill them in on what had happened.

They listened and ate ice cream together. And yeah Marion kind of wished he could have seen Lila as every lie was torn down but Chloe rejoiced in relaying her reactions with great detail. She had of course tried to lie and turn it all on the twins, them trying to frame her. However, with blood running down Alya's arm that warranted a trip to the hospital it was met with a cold shoulder. Their talk eventually morphed into laughing at all her outlandish lies, which Chloe gladly compiled into a list to share with the rest of the class, ranking them in order of their stupidity. She planned to go through the whole list on the plane ride back where there would be no escape for anyone. It was fun in a way, and if Marion noticed more than one pair of eyes spying in on the conversation he wasn’t going to point it out. Lila was yet to face her dues.

When their friends had to go back to the hotel they promised not to give anything away. Alfred gratefully let them skip over dinner and Dick was overjoyed to show them to their rooms. Marion kind of wanted to laugh when he was shown his, wondering how much of it was Dick, how much was Bruce, and what was Alfred.

There were cat plushies everywhere which he had to guess was Bruce latching onto the detail from the fair and indeed Dough boy is sitting front and center on his bed. Then again wherever he was over he did spend a lot of time with Catfred. It could also be Dick taking note of that because really everything has cats on it. There's blankets, pillows, a rug with kittens over it. There was an armchair shaped like a cat head, and where had they even found that? It only got worse the further he went into the room noticing that the curtains had been replaced to have cats on them and there were pictures of cats hanging on the wall, the lamps in the room even cast shadows of cats. The only thing he could find that wasn't cat-related was a picture of them with Bruce at the fair, each sporting a plushie with Bruce holding a cutesy Batman plush between the grinning twins.

“Nette my defining trait isn’t cats is it?” He walks into her room through the joining door he was willing to bet didn’t exist a week ago. His side, of course, had a cat painted on it, he closes it just so he has less exposure to all the cats.

“Course not,” Marinette grins from her sewing machine.

She had a more, let's say subdued room. Oh sure Bruce had apparently found her all the Ladybug plushies he could but they apparently didn't have the same abundance as cats. Instead, he seemed to have focused on her sewing kit. Mannequins littered about her room that Marinette had already started pinning fabric to. Half of her walk-in closet was dedicated to spools of fabric, the other stocked with clothes. Marion didn’t dare brave his own knowing he would find only cats .

“Did you notice the dollhouse?” Marinette asks as Marion flops onto her bed, at least you could actually see her bed and it wasn't hidden by a pile of cats.

“Yeah mine was stocked with camembert and sugar cubes,” and it had personalized rooms for both Kaalki and Plagg that they were happily exploring.

“Mine cookies,” Marinette hums, more concerned with her design than the topic at hand, “Think we got found out,”

“Probably, whoever it is hasn't said anything tho,” Marion looks over at the large dollhouse in Marinette's room, Tikki waved at him from a window and he waved back.

“Probably Alfred,”

“Probably, that mans a witch,”

“A Witch?”

“I know what I said,” Marion sighs, sealing himself to go back into the cat infestation. How do you politely say ‘thank you so much but what the fuck?’

He knew he had to brave the closet sometime as someone had been so kind as to put away his clothes. Sure enough, it was as bad as he had imagined. Everything from t-shirts with cartoon cats to clothes carefully crafted to have cat ears. I was actually kind of amazing at this point. Giving up his conquest to find his actual pj’s he buttons up a two-piece that is, naturally, covered with cats.

On his way out he notices a bit of black at the very front of the closet not fitting in with the color-coded organization. He pulls it out to find a gorgeous leather jacket that was completely devoid of cats! Huzzah! There was a note hanging from the sleeve which Marion unfolded.

Knew Bruce and Dick would be idiots so I got you something actually decent

I saw the room and yeah it's a fucken mess

If you ever need it gone or I don’t know accidentally set on fire give me a call

Marion chuckles knowing it could be no one else but Jason he tucks the note into the jacket, pulling it on to find a perfect fit. He keeps it on as a shield, something solidly not-cat is comforting at this point. He pushes the piles of cat toys onto the floor and seriously he was going to have to have a talk with Bruce about moderation and interior decorating. He lies down looking up at the ceiling, then immediately getting up and storming into Nette’s room. He was not going to sleep under a mural of cats! Nope not tonight! Not ever!

Marinette doesn't even look up from where she’s hunched over her desk as he flops onto her bed. Can someone be over the moon to be surrounded by ladybugs? Yes provided they have had an overexposure to cats first.

“I know we don’t want to go to school tomorrow but I can not stand a second more in that room,”

“Schools over Mari, it’s the concert tomorrow remember?”

“Goddammit,”

“Jasons having a bad influence on you,”

“Can’t we have just one day of rest?”

“No, now go to sleep,”

“You first,” Marion shoots, back despite curling up under the blankets.

“If you want to wear that jacket tomorrow you better take it off before it gets ruined,”

“I can wear it for the concert?” He shoots back up, excited but takes her advice anyway.

“ No I did not spend weeks designing a new jacket for you to wear that,” Besides it doesn't even have bats on the back,”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Marion yawns, sinking back into the bed, and wow it’s really soft, “What if we changed them to Robins?”

“... you really don’t want me to sleep tonight do you?”

“Means I get the whole bed to myself, a master plan if I do say so myself,” Marion doesn't even stir as the pillow hits him square in the face.

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

Taglist:

@technicallyburninggarden @fusser90  @misslenamooney @superbwhispersconnoisseur @biodad-bruce-month @nalu-ismyjam @the-one-woman-army @rosesandsailboats @blackmagicforever @zeneralla @ivymala07 @tired-butterfly @Ranger-gothamite @A-star-with-a-human-name @enchanted-nerd @trippingovermyfeet

[binniedeactivated]

saint. || soobin (3.1)🌪

pairing: soobin x reader genre: au  word count; 3k

“wow, you’ve really been studying a lot haven’t you?”. you say, seeing soobin’s notebook splayed out on the bed filled with notes that you had no supervision on. you were shocked to know that he took the time to study by himself. he was really taking things seriously. soobin nods, 

“i want to pass”. 

“it sure looks like it. you’re going to do more than pass with all this knowledge”. 

soobin laughs, “good. maybe I’ll earn the ski trip”. 

“ski trip?”. you question, having absolutely no clue as to what he was referring to. 

“yeonjun told me that everyone who does good on the exams earns a ski trip as an incentive”. 

you were kind of amazed, “wow. that sounds fun. when did our school start doing stuff like that? they must really want us to pass”. 

“definitely. and I think if everyone doesn’t do well the school’s going to be shut down. so I already know my parents are to blame”. 

you roll your eyes and smile a bit, writing down your chemistry notes to study. “must be nice having money”. 

“stop saying that. you have money too now”. 

“really? where?”. 

“right here”. 

you shake your head and laugh. soobin eyes you before going back to write his notes. 

“seriously why don’t you ask me for money? you never ask”. 

“you want me to?”.

soobin nods as if it were a stupid question. “yes”. 

“why?”. 

“because why not? I think every boyfriend does”.

“I love how you just call yourself my boyfriend in front of my mom and now that counts as us being an official couple”. 

soobin laughs and takes your hand. you look at him like he was the biggest joke in the world. “what are you doing?”. you say trying not to laugh. soobin was holding in laughter also while attempting to look at you seriously in your eyes. 

“do you want to be my girlfriend?”.

“i hate you soobin”. you laugh. 

“I’m serious I’m serious stop making me laugh”. 

you roll your eyes playfully. “fine. I guess I can be your girlfriend”. 

“good. are we an official couple now?”. 

you sigh scrawling your pen against your paper pretending to be frustrated. “I guess we are an official couple now soobin”. 

“you’re always trying to act like you don’t like me”. soobin laughs again, flipping his notebook page to finish the rest of the notes on the backside. 

“because if i act like I’m in love with you then things will be cringy”.

soobin lays his head on his hand, staring at you. 

“are you in love with me?”. 

you try not to blush. keeping your eyes on your own paper. his stare was eating you alive. 

“of course not”. you mumble jokingly. soobin chuckles. 

“your first time lying to me and this is what you waste it on?”.

you continue laughing leaving his rhetorical question floating in the air. he was still staring at you lovingly. 

“tell me the truth. because I’m in love with you. and I’m not afraid to admit it”.

“why are you in love with me? I’m not shaming you I just kind of find it odd--I’m just a church girl. living a normal middle class teenage catholic life. there’s nothing special about me. and here you are every girl’s dream. you’re rich. good looking. everyone wants to be you. why me? I’m nothing”.

“do you really think I can fall in love with someone whose nothing?”. 

you sigh. “I don’t want to put all my eggs in one basket. I’m scared of getting my hopes up and then one day you just leave. there’s so many girls out there that’s better. look better and dress better. and you can get with every single one of them if you wanted”. you ranted and you didn’t mean to take it this far but it’s honestly how you felt. you couldn’t help it. 

soobin presses his warm hand against your cheek. “why are you getting so upset, princess?”. 

“I don’t know”. you utter being swarmed in a sea of vulnerability. 

“I’m not going to leave you. and if I did who would I even leave you for? some girl who only wants sex and clout from me?”.

“what about the ones who are looking for a relationship?”.

“I’m too in love to care”. 

you sigh again, giving him pitiful eyes. being the cheesy person he was leans in and kisses you. that didn’t stop you from liking it though. 

“I only want you i swear. now please admit to being in love with me because I’m tired of waiting for your answer”. soobin says gradually laughing. you smile a bit breaking out of your sadness. his reassurance was what you needed. to be this deep into a relationship and him leaving you? it was your biggest fear. 

“I may or may not be”. you joked. soobin sucks his teeth playfully. 

“fine don’t admit it then. guess you won’t be getting a car for Christmas”. 

“soobin?”. 

“yes?”. he grinned while continuing his notes, knowing he caught you by surprise there. 

“a car?!”. 

“you heard me”. 

“don’t buy me that it’s way too expensive”.

“i’m totally going to obey your command”. 

“soobin I’m serious”. 

“so am I”. 

“how am I even going to explain that to my parents? they’re going to think I did something for it”. 

“something like what?”. soobin asks knowing exactly what you were getting at. 

“you know. they’re going to think I had sex with you or something for you to buy me such expensive gifts”. soobin waited and laughed once you finally said it. 

“that’s hot. they think you’re like a little churchy prostitute”. you childishly punch his arm. “that’s hot to you?”. 

“if it’s you doing it then yes”. 

“how is having sex with someone for gifts and money hot?”.

“I just like the idea of you being a whore for me”.

you laugh, wondering what else went on in soobin’s mind. 

“you know--like the outfit you wore when you came over my house for the first time--god i wanted to devour you”. 

“oh yeah? why didn’t you say anything?”.

“because you were most likely going to punch me. you didn’t know me yet”. 

“I still don’t. I’m still learning”. 

yeah, but you know enough about me now”. 

“I wouldn’t say all that. how do I know you’re not some serial killer deep down?”. 

“you sat on my face last night I’m pretty sure that whole ‘secretly a serial killer’ bullshit is out the window at this point”. 

you laugh loudly, “soobin!”. 

“you also didn’t call me soobin you called me daddy”. 

“alright that’s enough!”. the both of you laugh in perfect sync. interrupting it was his mother obnoxiously calling him from downstairs. soobin promises you his return before he goes to stand at the top of the stairs answering her. 

“yes?”. he says kind of annoyed. 

“me and your father have a conference to attend. our flight leaves soon. if I come back and find out you’ve studied nothing words can’t explain your punishment. don’t just sit around this house making nothing of yourself”. 

soobin rolls his eyes, “where is your conference being held?”.

“france”.

“for how long this time?”. 

“why are you asking meaningless questions? did you hear what I said?”.

“it’s not meaningless if you guys just came back and spent less than 8 hours in the house with me before you leave again”. 

“soobin don’t start. we’re leaders and we are also missionaries. you know what is required of us”. 

“what about me?”. 

“what about you? study and make yourself useful for something soobin. we were glad finally seeing you out with the sports team and doing things that don’t require a suspension”. 

soobin’s breathing pattern changes swiftly. he could hear the nonchalantness in her tone and he hated it with a passion. 

“study and make myself useful and then what? so you both can come home and beat me and yell at me anyways?”. 

his fathers enters the foyer pointing his finger up at soobin. 

“watch your volume”. 

“for what! for what whose going to hear me?”. 

“for respect soobin! don’t make me come up these stairs”. his father threatens. 

“why should I respect you both if you guys barely respect me?!”. 

“what are you talking about you have a house to live in don’t you? you have cars you have nice clothes you have gourmet food to eat and your bank account surpasses any number of ever seen in my life. you have nothing to complain about you need to be grateful!”. his mother spat. 

“yes you’re right thank you mom thank you dad for subtracting the parental love I could’ve gotten in my life and supplementing it with material things! I appreciate it so much!”.

“what did I tell you about saying that? huh?! we love you. this is tough love”. his father replies. soobin ball his fists. 

“that’s bullshit you’re only saying that because you don’t want anyone in this town to know that the two people they respect so much don’t give a damn about their son! half the shit that you do you only do it so I can never say that I don’t have anything”.

“soobin watch your mouth!”. he father growls. 

“it’s true just fucking admit it and stop getting angry!”

soobin spat harshly and his dad was about to take off up the stairs in a fit of rage until his mother pulled him back. 

“our flight leaves in less than a half hour we have to be at the airport. we can deal with him later”. his dad nods and points his finger at soobin again. 

“consider yourself lucky”. he stated before clutching his suitcase. his mom clutches hers and they both approach the door. she shoots a disgusting look at him. 

“maybe this getaway will help you clean up your act”. she muttered and closed the door behind him.

“What about me!?”. soobin stands at the top of the stairs still yelling.

“your getaways don’t help! they never fucking did!”. he could feel his heart racing and his cheeks growing hot.

“just say you don’t really love me. thats all you have to do”. he croaks without even realizing he was crying. 

you’d been in his room overhearing the whole argument but unable to come out due to you not supposed to even being there in the first place. so you kept silent until you heard the front door shut. you snuck out of soobin’s bedroom to see him down the hallway still yelling, so it was hard to tell if it’s parents really left or not. you approach his tall frame timidly, touching his shoulder. 

“soobin?”. he palms his face sniffling. you wrap your arms around his torso and glance up at him. 

“it’s going to be okay alright? they don’t deserve you. you’ve made mistakes in your life and sure you weren’t the best behaved kid but you are still theirs and they should treat you as such”. 

“I hate them. I fucking hate them both”. 

“soobin don’t say that”. 

“I will say it. because they don’t care about me”.

“look at me”. 

soobin sighs, removing his hands from his wet eyes to glare down at you. he looked so miserable when he cried and you hated it. you’d only ever like to see him happy and laughing. this was cruel. 

“I’m in love with you, okay?”. you say, reaching up to help him dry his eyes. 

“do you mean that?”. he replies. 

“yes I do mean it”. 

“good because I fucking knew it”. soobin admits with a straight face until you playfully slap his chest and laugh. it was a relief to see his reddened face contort into a smile. 

╲╱❀╲╱╲╱❀╲╱╲╱❀╲╱

“babe! hurry up!”. soobin yells from the living room couch. he had the movie ready and he was just waiting for you to cuddle with him. you figured you couldn’t leave him alone while he felt like this. so you gave your parents your usual excuse for being out so late. 

you promised soobin you’d do anything to help him feel better and guess what he requested? you guessed it. 

four peanut butter and jelly sandwiches specially made by you. and of course the big baby was being impatient. you rushed and slabbed the layer of peanut butter on the last slice and sat all the sandwiches on the plate. 

you carefully walked into the living room with it and soobin started the movie. you sat criss-crossed between his legs on the couch, trying to hand the plate off to him. 

“feed me”, he begs. you turn your body and face him. “you’re a big baby do you know that?”. soobin smirks knowingly. you rip a piece of one sandwich and hold it up to his lips which he munches on adorably. you feed him a few more pieces and watch the crumbs fall from his lips. 

“you’re the only person I know that can get fed and still make a mess”. you use a hand to dust the crumbs off of his lips and hoodie. 

“you’re such a mom”. 

“and you’re such a baby”. 

“your baby right?”. you sigh trying not to blush once again. 

“cmon. it’s okay to admit it”. 

“I’m not going to make things cringy soobin”. you mumble and he immediately tackles you down on the couch playfully. 

“soobin you’re going to make me drop all of these sandwiches on the floor!”. you laugh.

“admit I’m your baby”. he laughs. 

he face was inches from yours. he looked so cute and cuddly in his big sweater and hood over his head. you pulled one of his drawstrings. 

“fine. you’re my baby”. soobin smiles and softly kisses you. 

“you forgot to get me something to drink with my food. I’m going to suffocate from this peanut butter”. 

you laugh, “you didn’t ask for anything to drink”. 

“I know. I should’ve asked for milk”.

“see, that’s your mistake not mine”. 

soobin thinks for a moment before grinning. “i mean--if i wanted some milk I can just--”. he interrupted himself just to snake his hand up your shirt and massage your boob. you cackled loudly. 

“soobin!”. 

and your mornings were usual. this time around though you were encouraging soobin. he’d be taking his first history exam today. 

“remember you got this. you are smart. you can do anything and you studied really hard for this”. you remind prior to kissing him. “I believe in you”. you added. you went into your classroom and let soobin put his skills to the test. he was even more inspired now that he had you rooting for him. 

“I tried to call you yesterday but either your phone was dead or you didn’t pay your phone bill”. taehyun admitted. 

“my phone bill is paid. my phone was probably dead”. you lied. you were declining his calls to keep from soobin’s wrath. 

“we can study today after school if you’re down. I don’t have anything to do and plus the exam is coming up soon”. 

damn. you couldn’t say no to his face. could you? 

“yeah that’s fine. library?”. you ask. 

“yeah that’s cool”. taehyun shortly replies. all the while you were wondering how the hell you were going to continue studying with taehyun behind soobin’s back. it wasn’t like you were cheating on him or anything. just studying. maybe soobin was being too overprotective. 

soobin adjusts his backpack strap and attempts recalling his notes in his head while he walked to his classroom. 

“ayo? you ready?”. yeonjun asked catching up to him

“hell yeah. I actually studied”.

“good. I uhh- kind of have some news for you though”. 

“what is it?”. 

“they found more evidence on the hotel case”.

“shit. why the hell would you tell me that right now?”.

“I’m trying to tell you all the shit I know before anything comes up later so you can be prepared”. 

“how do you know this shit anyways? do you have a part time job at the police station or something?”. 

“I have my connections. and i’ve been following it to make sure they don’t try and frame me”. 

“why would they frame you?”. 

yeonjun shrugs, “I was acting pretty hostile during interrogation. but still”.

“I don’t have time for this shit”. 

“yeah that’s probably why you still haven’t told your girlfriend”.

“don’t start yeonjun”. 

yeonjun shrugs again, “I’m just saying. you keep dragging this shit out she’s going to fuck around and leave you”. 

[angelhummel]

could you rank the degrassi next class characters?

gladly!! also sorry in advance if you love any of the characters im about to shit on lol

20. Frankie Hollingsworth. Almost had her second to last but. No. Klu Klux Fran?? The ZOO?? I can't even talk about her she's just so damn annoying and racist and omg. And she was being pushed as the new Main Girl which made everything all the more offensive and unbearable

19. Esme Song. Sorry but I do not think she had a single redeeming trait. She had nothing she stood for, no actual character beyond being an antagonist to every single other person on the show. Like she thinks Shay is stupid for being embarrassed about getting her period on her boyfriend's pants, and yet she calls Yael disgusting for having armpit hair?? So what's the truth? And people are like "well she's mentally ill" to excuse all she does. Well Maya is mentally ill and Esme makes fun of her too. So who's side are we on? Like I would've liked to see her get help and develop but we didn't get that so.

18. Hunter Hollingsworth. Terrorist. Not even interesting enough to be an actual school shooter. Just a waste of a character. Sexist, violent, had a plot about wanting to play video games at school. I'm so bored. Only not at the bottom bc I feel like he wasn't in my face as much

17 & 16. Baaz Nahir & Vijay Maraj. Thing 1 and Thing 2 to the would be school shooter. Clowns. They were a terrible group and I cringed any time they had a plot together. Annoying together, useless on their own. Hard pass

15. Yael Baron. The final member of the above group. Was mostly boring and annoying and especially dumb for being romantically interested in Hunter. Only gets bonus points for their coming out as nonbinary plot. After their makeover I was literally crying

14. Jonah Haak. Mostly disliked him for being in a relationship with Frankie. Like I'm sure they were only a year or two apart but he felt so much older than her. It was gross. And mostly he's just really blah. The attempt at a straight edge character at that point was. Hilarious. at least.

13. Winston Chu. Seemed harmless at first but idk all the boys were shifted high into clown mode when this show hit netflix. The incident with the geisha and Japanese soldier costumes? Defending Zoe against Esme? Then later telling Goldi maybe she should take her hijab off to cause less of a fuss? Bruh.

12. Saad Al'Maliki. Honestly I felt like he was the one with the most braincells most of the time. Probably pissed me off the least. But he was also in the least amount of episodes and didn't make much of an impression on me. Was mostly just boring. But I'll take boring over everything that came before

11. Lola Pacini. Degrassi has a knack for introducing the worst and most obnoxious characters and then eventually making you love them. Lola was not quite that. I hated her for the longest time but it decreased a bit near the end. I got emotional when she had her abortion. And when she gave Yael their makeover. And when she reached out to Saad and convinced him not to leave. I feel like I could've grown to like her more if the show went on, but again... Oh also I hate her and Miles together sorry

10. Grace Cardinal. Ugh Grace is confusing to me. I wasn't the biggest fan of her story with Zoe. I mean sure you're allowed to hook up with someone and then realize "oh that's not for me" but it was handled so awkwardly. Like she slept with Zoe just to be like "damn i hate when everyone thinks i'm a lesbian :/" like why. Idk she was fine but I'm not over the moon about her

9. Goldi Nahir. Ugh okay I feel like they didn't know what to do with her. Like she had the plotline about if she should take off her hijab or not. And she had to teach the poor whities about racism. That was about it? She was adorable and sweet and a bright spot in the show but ugh she deserved better than what she was surrounded with lol

8. Shay Powers. Again, it's not her fault she's stuck in a show written by 70 year old white people. But the black girl is completely oblivious to the racism of her friend? She has to ask her dad if a racist thing is really racist? She's never experienced racism? Ok Degrassi. They treat all their black girls like shit and I feel like I just stan them out of spite bc of that lol. But she's cool and a nice person and she's into sports so she's at least doing stuff

7. Rasha Zuabi. Another generally nice and cool character that I have positive feelings for. Also she was gay so yay. Loved her story with Zoe. I think there was just one moment where I was like "wtf are you doing" but compared to everyone else it's not a big deal

6. Zig Novak. I have to admit that all my enjoyment of his character comes from before Next Class. He was such a sweetie and then he left and came back acting dumb as hell. That was not my boy in Next Class. But ahhh he's still my boy sorry I love him <3

5. Deon "Tiny" Bell. Basically the same as Zig above. But I feel like he maybe had a few less moments of being an asshole? Also his promposal for Shay was cute <3 Wait didn't he also date Lola? Wasn't a fan of that either.

4. Zoe Rivas. She was the one dressed up as a geisha lol (: Oh boy Next Class was something else. Umm it was nice to see her process of accepting herself as a lesbian. I feel like it took forever tho. Which is understandable irl but this is a tv show lol. I didn't enjoy her sucking Zig off in the woods. Not fun. But her relationship with Rasha was one of my fave things about NC

3. Tristan Milligan. The amount of hate Tristan gets is faaaar too much. He's one of my favorites of the whole show honestly. I think he's funny and dramatic and a great addition to the show. But he gets knocked down bc I can't remember anything he did in Next Class other than BEING IN A FUCKING COMA FOR A WHOLE SEASON. He's already Owen's brother, he's suffered enough. But I love his relationship with Miles. And him helping Zoe accept herself

2. Miles Hollingsworth. Yes another character I wasn't fond of at first. Hated his relationship with Zoe and thought he was just boring. Truthfully I think I only became interested when he started dating Tristan lol. Plus omg with his family?? It's a miracle he got out at all. He went through so much bullshit and he was especially going through it in Next Class. He was kind of a hot mess but also I just care a lot about him. He deserves the world <3

1. Maya Matlin. Is Maya really my fave?? I guess so! Yet another character I wasn't fond of at first. Which is insane bc we just got to the part in our rewatch where she first shows up and I'm like !!! baby girl!! So precious!!! And I wanted to cry thinking of what she's about to go through. I feel like her character is treated with some of the most respect and care. Her motivations and mental health decline all make sense storywise. I just care a lot about her and got super emotional watching everything in her story, especially the later parts in NC

Wow this is a lot!! But I hope you enjoyed my ranking and explanations lol. Also like. Everyone was racist. Everyone was mentally ill. That was the whole show. It was a hot mess and truth be told I am not a fan. Even the characters I love, they were acting weird here. Like I said about Zig and Tiny and their character regression. And I think it was the same for like Tristan and Zoe and plenty of others too. Everyone was off, idk how to explain it. But that's my ranking for the hot mess that was Next Class!!

Thank you for the ask, ily <3

[infernwetrust]

March Madness [Jim Mason x Xavier Plympton]

Summary: Xavier decided that for this year’s March Madness [College Basketball], he wants Jim’s attention more than ever. 

Warnings: smut, oral sex, mentions of drug use, drug use, apply more as you see fit. 

WC: 2.6k

A/N: Am I the only one who thinks aside from surfing that Jim would be really big into sports? Thanks for reading! -Juno

Jim sat on the couch, beer in his hand, jaw clenched as he tried to focus on the March Madness game in front of him. You see, March Madness was a special time for Jim. A recent college graduate two years year ago, he was a big fan of college basketball. His school, Duke, of which he was now a proud alumni, was playing Yale. Class of 2017, Jim was. Him and his college buddies got together every year , freshman through senior to watch the games. This was their first year apart. But, he couldn't keep focus when Xavier was desperately begging for his attention.

The two had been the best of friends growing up, having met online on some stupid 3D chatting game their freshman year of high school. They talked almost everyday, eventually getting each other's Skype information because they both wanted to put a face to who they were talking to everyday. And when Jim laid eyes on Xavier for the first time he couldn't help but tell him how cute he is and how he loves his blonde hair and his blue eyes. And quite the surprise for Jim, Xavier reacted the same way, but complimenting all of Jim's features head to toe as Xavier shy'd away from nothing. They left their 3D world for Skype, got each other's numbers and all the social media.

Parents were introduced over Skype, both sets being concerned to the lack of their sons appearance with the family and they all grew to love each other. When Xavier heard about Jim's parents divorce a few years later, he was there, throughout all the crying, throughout Jim's rampant drug use. No matter how gone he was, Jim made sure he saw Xavier's face before he passed out. He saved up enough money to finally visit PV by the end of his Junior year and that's when they started dating. When he met Jim's sister Medina, they instantly hit it off, becoming just as close. Xavier learned a lot about Jim as did Jim about Xavier. They knew what made each other tick, all the favorites, all the non-favorites, all the turn ons and turn offs, the allergies, you name it, they knew it. Despite the distance, as Jim decided Duke was the best for him, and Xavier decided that UCLA was the best for him, they made it work. The occasional campus visit every now and then was something they also did. And with a little bit of luck, they had their own little apart in the heat of downtown LA shortly after graduating college. Jim would do anything to stay the fuck away from PV and when Xavier came to him with the idea of getting their own place over FaceTime one night, how could Jim say no? At that point he didn't care what else everyone thought about it, aside from Medina who encouraged him to.

A few months after they had moved in together, Jim cut off all contact with his mother and father, blocking their numbers and everything else they could find him on and encouraged Xavier to do the same, especially when it came to his mother. Xavier really only kept in contact with his dad and step mother, not really wanting to talk about his biological mom for all the hell she put him through. The two found the most comfort in each other and that's all that mattered. They had their little groups of friends they made from college and they'd hang out every so often, but nothing compared to being at home, lost in each other.

Xavier, who was fresh out of the shower, walked into the living room, towel draped around his waist, taking a seat next to Jim on the couch, but laying his head in his lap and as he laid on his back on the couch, unlocking his phone and scrolling through his Instagram. His hair was still a little damp, leaving just a small pool on Jim's college sweats, but of course he didn't mind. Xavier had missed Jim who was gone all last month, visiting his sister Medina who had moved to New York City. Every march he would miss Jim too because that's all Jim focused on, was the basketball games. By the end of them he would be too tired. Quickies were the most Xav would get out of Jim.

Jim was already extremely attracted to his partner both physically and mentally. Any time Xavier was present in the room a fire burned within him. And now here he was across his lap, body glistening, the smell of Irish Spring and minty fresh tooth paste filled his nostrils. He inhaled sharply, using his free hand to place on Xavier's chest. He rubbed it up and down, knowing that drove him insane. Xavier chewed on his lip, pretending not to be affected by Jim's touch, but his chest was rising and falling faster. He chewed on his bottom lip, eyes still glued to his phone.

Physical contact was something that Jim needed and Xavier knew that. It made him always feel closer to X. If they sat together in public, they're knees were always touching, or Jim would casually place his hand on Xavier's thigh. At home it was always free reign. If Xavier was typing away on his computer at their kitchen island, Jim was there, arms wrapped around him as he rested his head against his back. If Jim sat watching tv like how he is now, Xavier was either next to him, knees touching, Jim's arm wrapped around his shoulder or completely laid out across his lap, asleep. They held hands all the time when they were out, not caring about the scrutinizing looks they'd receive from some people. Jim always stepped up when he had to and he wasn't afraid to get physical. Jim would remind them that's is 2019 and that he doesn't give a fuck what they think.

Despite his dominance in the bedroom, Jim loved being the little spoon. Most of the time he ended up completely on top of Xavier in his sleep, leading to a morning of lazy sex as the two dry hump each other, half asleep. Jim glanced down at Xavier, noticing his red eyes.

"High without me?" he asked, frowning a little bit. Xavier looked up at him, blue eyes surrounded by red streaks.

"I hung out with Chet and Ray today." he said. "You know what happens when we hang out. Plus I figured you would be smoking all while you were watching your games." Jim stayed silent, returning his eyes to the tv, taking a big sip from his beer. "I can always smoke again with you, baby."

"I don't want you to be too high."

"No such thing as too high as much as we smoke Jim." Xavier said, sitting up and looking at his boyfriend, shirtless, in sweats, hair a mess, staring at the tv. "Come on. Do you want to?" Jim turned his head to look over at Xavier who awaited his response. Smoking marijuana was something that had also brought the two closer together. It was more than just high sex. It was the interesting conversations or the ridiculous jokes. It was the endless amounts of cuddles and soft kisses as the two rode out their high, bodies floating as they sat or lay wherever.

"Yeah.." Jim mumbled at first, speaking louder. "What did we buy again?"

"Northern Lights or Mimosa Cookies."

"Northern Lights. You know I don't like Sativa before bed."

"I knooooow." Xavier sauntered out of the living room and down the hallway to their bedroom, quickly returning with his purple galaxy rolling tray and a container of weed. He plopped back down onto the couch, next to Jim. "Do you want to roll it?"

"No, you roll them better." They actually rolled them about the same. He just liked to watch Xavier roll. The way his fingers delicately broke down the cigarrillo, disposing of the tobacco in it. The way he licked the inside of the broken down wrap to get it moist enough for the weed to stick and for it to seal. Evenly packing it, he'd roll it between his fingers, bringing his teeth and lips ever so gently down on the wrap to pull it over itself. Tuck and roll. Tuck and roll. And then he'd dry it out a little bit with the flame from his disco lighter. And when he rolled joints, how he'd crumple the paper first before laying the weed down on it. How he'd roll it and tear the gum lining clean off with his teeth.

"Want the to do the honors?"

"You know it." Jim took the blunt out of Xavier's hand, putting it in between his lips, lighting it up and taking a deep inhale followed by a short exhale through his nose. As Jim loved to watch Xavier roll, Xavier loved to watch Jim smoke. He took a few more hits before passing the blunt to Xavier. They passed back and forth for about 30 minutes, really taking the time to let their new high set in.

"Care to go again?" Xavier asked, taking a huge swallow from his water bottle. "I wish there was smoking, but without the cotton mouth."

"No, I'm content." Jim answered. "And you and me both." He had cracked opened another beer from the cooler that he always kept next to him during game. Duke was up by 2, much to Jim's annoyance, but he was too stoned to get off the wall angry like he usually does about these games. He went to take a drink, missing his mouth by just an inch, pouring some of the contents on himself.

"High much?" Xavier questioned, raising his eyebrow and giving Jim a smirk.

"Maybe just a little bit." Jim responded, looking down at the mess he made, chuckling a little bit. "I'm gonna go get my towel."

"No, you don't have to do that."

"But I don't want to sit here getting sticky?"

"Who said anything about being sticky?" Jim, too high to catch on, shot Xavier a confused look, but that look quickly turned into pure lust when Xavier leaned over him, tongue slowly gliding across his chest, down to his stomach, leaving a few soft kisses behind too as he cleaned up the mess Jim made all over himself, but he didn't stop there. He reached between Jim's legs, grabbing a handful of him, semi-erect. "No underwear, Mr. Mason?"

"I'm in my own house, Mr. Plympton." Jim said, jaw clenched together, tight as Xavier just held onto him. Jim never wore underwear, underneath his shorts, sweats, or jeans whenever the two were home alone and Xavier knew that. He did it for reasons just like this, but never expected Xavier to be so forth coming during March Madness.

"Hmmmm." Xavier hummed as he began to rub Jim through his sweats. Jim let out a sigh of ecstasy as he threw his head back. He let his hands work their way into Xavier's hair, tugging at it a little.

"You know better than to distract me from one of the most important games in history, right?"

"Why do you have to allow yourself to get distracted? Just relax..." And that's how Xavier got most of what he wanted out of Jim. His voice was laced with his intoxication and need for Jim. It was low, seductive, persuasive, charming. "Just let me worry about you and you worry about Duke vs Yale, yeah?" Jim just simply nodded, as Xavier pulled his sweats down and watched as he cock sprung free, slapping against his stomach a few times before it finally settled. "Excited?"

"Mmmmph, suck me..." was all Jim managed to get out, his eyes darting back and forth between the TV and Xavier. Xavier giggled, giving Jim's beautiful pink tip a warm kiss as it laid against his stomach before fully taking Jim into his mouth, tongue swirling as he did.

"Fuck..." Jim sighed as he gently ran his hand through Xavier's hair, massaging his head as he did so. "You're so spoiled aren't you? Knowing that I can't resist you at all, no matter, fuck, hard I try." And Jim wasn't wrong. All Xavier had to do was send him a couple naughty word text messages and a simple picture and Jim, only sometimes, was out of his last class 10 minutes early, back in his dorm, and on Skype with him, getting off to the little show that Xavier put on for him.

"Mhmmm." was all Xavier said, mouth full of Jim. Jim shivered as the vibration rippled throughout his cock and body. In response, X picked up the pace, wet noises filling the room. It didn't take long for Jim to become a moaning mess from the warm wetness of Xavier around him. Pop. He popped Jim out of his mouth, doing that a few times because he knew it set Jim off.

"Fuck, you're so good." Jim said, basically out of breath. "So fucking good, so fucking pretty with my dick in your mouth." Xavier's bulge was aching against the couch, wanting to Jim to fill his other hole, but not here, he wanted Jim in the bedroom. After giving Jim a few more good pops he put him back in his mouth and all the way down his throat, holding Jim there and giving him the opportunity to take control and he did, gladly. Grabbing a fist full of X's hair once again he thrusted his hips upwards, breathing heavily as he did so.

"Want me to fuck your throat?" Jim asked. "Hmmm?" Xavier nodded around him, sneaking his hand under himself  just so he could rub at his aching hard on. He didn't have to tell Jim twice before he started thrusting in and out of his throat and Xavier took it like a champ. He gripped Jim's thighs, digging his nails into them as Jim sped up, his moans getting louder and louder by the minute. Using his other free hand, Xavier grabbed Jim by the throat, giving it a tight squeeze. He knew Jim loved to be choked the closer he got to his orgasm.

"Harder." Jim said. "Choke me harder." And so he did, the speed at which he fucked in and out of Xavier's throat, now relentless. "Ohhhhh... fuck... X...."

"Mmmmmmmmmm." Xavier hummed around his dick again. Not a single tear left his eye. Not a single gag left his throat. He was such a fucking pro.

"Fuck... Fuck... babe... Im gonna"

Jim let go, all the way let go , down Xavier's throat and he swallowed all of it, popping Jim out of his mouth as the final tease.

"God, I love you."

"I love you too, Jim." Xavier said, standing up with his towel still wrapped around his waist. Jim's eyes immediately found the bulge that was about to make his towel drop off his waist if it got any harder.

"You look like you need some help. Why didn't you let me take care of you too?"

"Your game, remember?" Xavier said, pointing to the TV, but Jim wasn't even paying attention to that. He stopped trying the moment Xavier started popping him in and out of his mouth.

"Honestly." Jim began. "Fuck this game right now."

"Whaaaaat? Jim Mason saying fuck March Madness while his school is absolutely dominating Yale right now?" Xavier questioned.

"Oh so you've got jokes?"

"But..." Xavier began, pulling his loosely wrapped towel from around his waist and letting it drop to the floor. He was leaking so much pre-cum and it made Jim so happy how horny he made him. "If you want this party continue... and you don't mind filling a second hole..." Xavier turned around so that his bare ass was on full display for a drooling Jim. "Then you know where to find me, Jim Mason."

Taglist: @jimmason @angelicmichael @whatcodysaid @theneverendinghunger

[likeshipsonthesea]

Nurseydex 18 ^_^

from this list 18. things you said when you were scared

fuck me, i tried not to make this what it is, but that’s where my head is at right now my dudes. warning for covid-related angst and anxiety (no sickness)

They try to Zoom at least once a week. That is, Chowder and Dex and Farmer and him. They’ve organized a few team-wide calls, a few just popping up from a stray offer in the group chat. But every week, usually over the weekend, he, Dex, Chowder, and Farmer hop on Zoom for a few hours.

Sometimes they watch stuff using Netflix party, sometimes they play online multiplayer games like Pictionary or Cards Against Humanity, sometimes they just chat for a few hours, about any inane thing or new show or nice story they heard.

Nursey likes it. Fuck, does he like it. It’s a bright spot in his week, spent totally in his apartment save for walks to the park and trips to the grocery store, both of which are always masked and always quick. It’s nothing like the real thing, nothing like visiting Dex in Boston and staying up watching stupid TV shows while pressing into one another on the couch, nothing like when Chowder plays a New York team and he and Nursey linger around the city all night, catching up, nothing like when Farmer has a work trip to the city and they get drinks and gossip and pretend like college isn’t getting farther and farther away.

But it’s a good substitute, if nothing else. Nursey doesn’t know what he’d do without it.

This week, weeks after he stopped counting the weeks, this week is a little different. Maybe it’s because it’s July, past all the original expected dates by which things should’ve returned to the way they were. Maybe it’s because Chowder is being forced back into something that’s both not enough and way too much because people miss sports. Maybe it’s because this was the weekend he was supposed to visit Dex for two whole weeks, both of them using their scant few vacation days for one another.

The notification comes through on his phone as they shift into the second episode of The Floor is Lava. It’s the airline, reminding him that the flight tomorrow is still cancelled.

Nursey flips off his video and his mic as the panicky, tear-mottled feeling claws into his chest. He puts into the chat that he’s going to the bathroom, continue without him, and he sits in front of his computer, watching his friends watch the show, and cries.

He cries, angry at himself for doing so. He cries, feeling hopelessness tangle with his tongue. He cries, trying to pull some glimmer of something positive out of the mess of anxiety and darkness and dread that has been eating at him since early March, and he finds nothing.

This sucks. Everything sucks. He wants to go back to work more than anything. He wants to see his parents without being terrified he’ll transfer something to his asthmatic dad, his mom with her family history of heart problems. He wants to fly to Boston and hug the man he’s loved for years without ever thinking that there would be a day when he wouldn’t be able to see him anymore. He wants things to be normal and they can’t be.

They can’t be because people care more about the economy than lives, because inconvenience is injustice to people in this country, because the world has somehow convinced people that millions dead isn’t any worse than the flu, because there isn’t an easy solution to anything that will make him feel better, and so he sits, and he cries, until the allotted time he had “in the bathroom” runs out.

Nursey wipes his tears. He checks himself in his phone camera before turning on his video and his mic. He watches the rest of The Floor is Lava, laughs at all the right parts, even enjoys it, despite the tightness in his chest.

Chowder and Farmer beg off after that episode. They’re planning to meet tomorrow, at a park halfway between their houses, masked and distancing. Nursey is so, so happy for them, and so painfully jealous. He’s looked up the drive to Boston a million times since March, but he doesn’t have a car, and public transit is terrifying. Three hours away never felt like a lifetime.

Dex doesn’t immediately leave with them. He sighs, when their pictures grow to fill the empty space on the screen, and he looks tired. The lighting accentuates the smudges under his eyes, his hair is unwashed, ruffled. He’s in an old college shirt, likely pajamas. Dex had started off the quarantine dressing every day like he was going into work, but slowly he turned in the button-downs for t-shirts.

“You doing okay?” Nursey asks, quiet. He doesn’t know what he wants to hear. That Dex is doing fine, making do, and Nursey is alone in this pit, or that he’s in this shit hole too?

Dex sighs again. He smiles, tight. “You know.”

Nursey nods, jerky. “Yeah, sorry. Loaded question.”

The tightness in Dex’s smile ebbs, some. His eyes aren’t on the camera, so it doesn’t feel like he’s looking at Nursey, but Nursey knows he is. He wonders what Dex can glean from the pixelated image, what anxieties he finds written into Nursey’s coded face. He wishes they were together, he wishes Dex could see his shaking hands, his slumped shoulders, wishes he didn’t have to say anything for Dex to know how not okay he’s feeling right now.

In college, Nursey didn’t have to say a word for Dex to know, to start baking Nursey’s favorite pie, to sit him down on the couch with warm hands on shoulders, set up some easy-to-watch, before-seen-and-loved show on the TV, sit down next to Nursey and just be quiet for a while.

The thought of that not happening again, the thought of it not happening for months, not happening until next year, terrifies Nursey. The words force their way, scratching, fighting, up his throat. He says them, aching. “I miss you.”

That, apparently, seems to be enough. Dex’s smile settles into a frown, little wrinkles appearing between his eyebrows. “I miss you, too,” he says, and means it. He always means what he says.

The panicky feeling reappears on Nursey’s tongue. He wants to turn off the camera, end the call. He doesn’t.

The alarm is blocky in Dex’s face. “Nursey.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t--” I don’t want to cry, he means to say, but doesn’t. He hates this. He hates this dreadful feeling with all of his being but he can’t claw away from it. He can stifle it, for days, or weeks, press things over it until it’s quieter, ignored, but then one stupid notification and he’s back, consumed, and he hates it, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“Nursey.” Dex’s voice is firm, and tinny. “Nursey, what’s wrong?”

Nursey laughs, wet. “What isn’t?” He swallows. “I’m sorry, I don’t--I don’t want to put this on you. I just--” Burden, burden, his anxious brain screams. Why are your emotions more important than his?

“Nursey, please, I just want to--” Dex reaches for the screen, like he could hold Nursey through the call, and Nursey aches harder.

“I miss you,” he says again, because it’s something that is true and doesn’t hurt like hopelessness, and he knows he’s got Dex right in front of him, but in a handful of minutes he will turn off the computer and be alone again, alone until next week, alone, alone, alone--

“I miss you, too,” Dex says again. The alarm has bled from the screen, leaving only this panicked desperation. Dex rambles. He never rambles. “And this sucks. This all fucking sucks. You’re supposed to be here and I’m supposed to be taking you to stupid tourist shit in the city and we’re supposed to get drunk and watch the sunset over the Charles River and fall asleep on the couch in the middle of movies and touch, Jesus fuck, I miss--” Dex swallows, harsh, “--I miss touching you.”

The tears stop forcing their way out. Nursey manages a few deep breaths and silences himself. He continues to stare at the screen, at Dex, at the imperfect vision of him.

Dex inhales, exhales, slow. “I don’t know when this is going to be-- better. I don’t-- I can’t expect it to be soon. I can’t--” He shakes his head. “Whenever this is better, whenever I can, I will come to New York. And until then, I will miss you. And it will suck.”

But what else, his following silence says, can I do?

Nursey nods, and wipes at his face. It helps, for some reason, even if there’s no new information. Maybe knowing Dex hates it just as much, wants to see him just as much, is comfort. Maybe Nursey just needed to cry in front of someone rather than alone for a change.

Whatever. Emotions suck and make no sense. Who cares why the looming dread is quieter, now, as long as it is?

“Do you,” Nursey says, voice rough, and tries again, “do you wanna watch another episode?”

Dex’s mouth quirks. “Chowder and Farms might kill us if we go ahead without them.” Nursey deflates mildly. Alone, alone. “But they added Avatar to Netflix. Want to watch that?”

Nursey grins.

They spend the rest of the night, and some of the next morning, watching Avatar: the Last Airbender. Nursey complains about how dirty they did Zuko with that haircut in Book 1 and Dex tells a story about how he wanted to be a waterbender when he was little, and the world still very much sucks, but, for a while, they don’t have to feel it so much.

[okaybutlikeimagine]

ok by i cannot stop thinking about billy just losing his fucking mind to dream on by aerosmith. like his dad just went too far or he found out about him and steve and now hes tearing his room apart like a mad man, throwing records and smashing bottles and shit. and its not even just like angry hes like /crying/ like he cannot even for a second know peace and happiness and this has been on my mind for MONTHS

TW: physical abuse, blood, homophobic slurs ((f-slur)), verbal abuse, mental breakdown, cussing

Honey, ever since i got this i haven’t been able to stop thinking about it either ohmyGOD???? This is legitimately a PEAK Billy “i’m absolutely sick of all of this and i need out NOW” Hargrove anthem!! God if i could direct this i would but unfortunately i’m bound to words on my silly little blog so i hope this will do, love. ♥ (@venomdean)

Because it’s absolutely explosive. I kind of hate to think about it, but I feel like Billy is like a landmine. He’s a pot always threatening to boil over. He’s on constant vibrate just about ready to pop. He’s always on the edge of going absolutely feral because the only certain thing he’s felt for years and years is pain.

And you’re right- on both accounts. Neil finds out… and he goes too far.

Because Neil has been hearing all around town that Billy has been running around with “that Harrington boy”. You know, the son of that really influential family, the boy who “has all the opportunities in the world” but “seems to be amounting to nothing… what a shame. You know, his parents couldn’t even pay a school to take him. What a pity. I knew it would happen though...”

And Neil just hoped it wasn’t true. He hears it every time he goes to the grocery store. The voices follow him down the aisles, either from mothers who whisper about how “That’s Neil Hargrove. His son is that curly haired one I told you about. The different one.” or from teens who hiss about how “That’s Billy’s dad. Wonder if he knows his son is probably a fa-”

And one day Billy comes home happy. And i’d encourage you to really think about that and just enjoy it for as long as you can because Billy is happy. So happy he’s beaming. He feels like he’s glowing from the inside. He forgets that anyone other than Steve even exists. For a second he forgets his own existence, he’s so enamored and infatuated and near obsessed, really. Because he spent the whole afternoon with the boy, which isn’t necessarily a rare occurrence but it’s always an exceptional one, and today was especially joyful because something about their mutual existence just felt so…. So good. Yeah they had sex in the camaro like the teenagers they are and then again in Hansen’s field because it’s fucking massive and Hansen’s away on some trip and they blasted hippie music and fucked in a field of flowers and pretended like they were at Woodstock just existing in the skin of the other like they were made for it. Like they were made to share each other’s bodies and they were finally completing their infinite and perpetual task. And Billy would never be able to say these words or perhaps even string them together but it’s about the feeling.

Because that’s just the feeling he has. The nameless feeling.

And they fucked and they thought about smoking and they thought about drinking but they stayed high on each other and that was enough. They were laying there among the daisies happier than anything else in existence and Billy’s not even sure why. But they laid there and Billy felt the sun lay a large blanket of the softest warmth right over him and he absolutely reveled in it, allowing his hand to grace Steve’s fingers and then he rolled over to lay his head on Steve’s shoulder and he can’t believe he does that without feeling like a stupid fucking sissy but… but Steve’s always there. Always always always there. Stronger than he looks and warm and supportive and there. And Steve started to curl some of Billy’s hair around his finger and Billy pretended to bite at him like he was irritated and Steve whispered something about love and you and me and California and after graduation… i should have enough money by then. Let’s do it. Just you and me.

And Billy’s whole world froze. Froze in warmth, incubated in love, goddamn teeming with adoration as he got up on his elbows and evaluated Steve’s face just to be sure it wasn’t a joke and saw that it wasn’t and absolutely 100% beamed. Because the words and Steve’s eyes and the warmth of the sun on his back painted, stroke by stroke, the image of the two of them in California. On the beach. In the soft sand. Enjoying the sunlight. Playing in the waves. Billy teaching Steve how to surf, Billy dragging Steve under the boardwalk, Billy and Steve getting sticky with popsicles and soft serve and fresh watermelon and strawberries, Billy rollerskating hand in hand with Steve just like he used to watch all those couples do back when he was 9 years old and questioning everything. Billy and Steve existing freely. Openly and honestly. It can only have gotten better. He’s sure of it. It can only get better from this stupid hick town. He knows it.

He needs it.

And so they make out some more and the rest of the afternoon is a whirlwind up until he’s got Steve pressed up against the Camaro making out with him on that backroad and then again in front of Steve’s house and he’s letting his skin light up over every little promise of you and me in California… that Steve whispers into his skin, his ears, his mouth...

He feels fucking invincable.

He walks into his house with a forcefield. A smile he never sports. A bounce in his step he never maintains. Goddamn happiness. Not even just confidence, it’s pure bliss on his face and not even Neil’s ugly mug can ruin it. Not even Neil storming down the hall, electricity following his path, can ruin it. Not even Neil scowling, glaring daggers, lip snarled, teeth bared, can ruin it. Not even whatever gross, growling worlds Neil is spitting his way can ruin it.

Billy is blissed out on the future and the idea of pure bliss with a boy he thinks he knows he loves that he doesn’t feel it until even moments after. He doesn’t see it til it’s over. He doesn’t know it til he can’t defend himself. He doesn’t care until he does.

It’s a mistake.

When Billy thinks back on it afterwards, after everything, he heaves and hisses and snarls at his past, blissed out self. He wants to punch himself in the face for such a mistake. This is a lesson he learned years ago. Back when it all first started. Back when he was so young.

But current Billy is blissed all the way up until his world flashes black. Until his ears ring. Until his hand flies to his face of its own accord to press at the pain to get it to stop. Second nature.

“You stupid fucking homo.”

And Billy’s vision bleeds red. It’s anger, it’s rage, it’s betrayal. His vision tunnels with vitriol. With scorn. Fight or flight kicks in and every smart part of Billy is yelling run but the dumber, closer, stronger parts say fuck him fuck him fuck him I don’t deserve this.

So his fist swings, rearing back and surging forward. Animalistic nature.

He thinks he makes purchase, but if he’s honest, the rest is a too quick blur. A mess of motion. Someone presses fast-forward on his VHS tape. The moments bleed together.

It’s a montage of angered words. Words beyond anger. Words that poison his system. Words like “homo” and “fag” and “disgrace” and “military school” and Billy checks in right there because-

“You’re going to military school, you worthless piece of shit.”

Billy spits in the man’s face. Longtime craving.

And then the world blacks out again. It’s blurrier now. His face is warm. There’s liquid gushing out. His wrist is sore and the ground is being taken out from beneath him and he realizes he’s being grabbed and pulled and then dragged because his body is feeling weak. Call it a mix of everything.

And he’s being dragged to his room and the world shatters when they cross the threshold because this place is the only place in this damn house he feels somewhat safe in. And he feels himself hit the ground heavily, right in front of his mirror. Feels himself being pulled up to be seated. Hears a rustling. Hears a weirdly familiar sound his mind can’t process. Sees something metal in the mirror before his hair is being grabbed and pulled taught and then there’s slack and the pressure is gone and-

“How could you fucking do this to me?”

More hair pulling, more growling, more yelling, some spit.

“You’ve been running around with that prissy boy. How long, huh?”

Then there’s slack and-

“Everyone talks about you two. Disgusting.”

Pulling pulling pulling pulling… something tickling his arms.

“Saw you two… outside his house, huh? You’re a disgrace.”

Wetness. Billy’s face is wet. His eyes burn. His throat burns. There’s slack again.

“You’re going to military school. Tomorrow. You’re out of here.”

Pulling and sawing and yanking and slack. Over and over and over and over-

“Hope I never see you again, you fag.”

Billy sobs. It wrenches through his chest. Pulling and slack, pulling and slack, over and over and-

It stops. Billy’s weak. His body is shutting down. It must be. It feels like it. The vision in the mirror is blurry but he knows the damage that’s been done. He can tell. He can feel. There’s nothing touching his shoulders anymore. Nothing against his neck. Something tickles down his arms. He shakes, weakly moving his hand to swipe the feeling away from his arms and grabs at tufts of hair.

There’s that ugly fucking mug, right in his face. It’s a strange look he wears. Billy’s vision is blurred. His lip snarls upward. Instinct.

“Where did I go wrong?”

The words are whispered in his face on hot breath. They hang in the air between them.

Billy shatters.

The door shuts loudly. Another door shuts after that. A car starts. Billy’s still sitting on the floor.

His muscles in his legs begin to contract, and then his arms. His vision clears and sharpens. He pushes himself up off the floor, avoids looking in the mirror, walks up next to it to his stereo, moves to turn on the radio…. Auto-pilot.

Music fills the room. Lilts through the air. Cuts through the humidity of the once cool night. The altercation warmed everything up. Must have.

There’s the sound of a keyboard and the plucking of a guitar. A familiar rhythm. It flows out of his stereo and through the room like it has a life of its own. It’s a spectral kind of presence, slinking out of the speakers, lurking in the corners, filling up the forgotten spaces with its haunting rhythm. Billy turns the music up louder. Stands in front of the stereo. Lets the music consume his space. Exist with him until they can’t co-habitate.

The chord gets more complicated. The chord runs. Billy’s feet feel like they’re going to betray him and let him fall through the floor. His head feels like it’s in another realm. A mirrored realm of darkness and vines… a world teeming with threats that wouldn’t think twice of making attempts on his life.

He sways in place.

When the voice starts his feet move. They betray his thoughts but they don’t compromise his balance, necessarily. He’s moving backwards.

Every time that I look in the mirror….

He can’t.

All these lines on my face getting clearer…

He knows he can’t. Not if he wants to keep his sanity. His breath gets shorter. His head is dizzy just from moving, even though he’s slow. Maybe it’s because he’s going backwards.

The past is gone

His head betrays him now. Swings itself over the edge- looks over to the left.. Billy’s eyes take a second to focus but it’s only an instant after that before his hands shoot up to his head. Grab at tiny curls. Grab at randomly long tufts. Grab at whatever they can reach which is almost nothing.

He’s shaking. His hand is shaking as his fingers grasp with a kind of desperation Billy has never known but is suddenly wracking his body in a way that overwhelms every piece of him until he’s nothing but fingers grasping for what should be where they’re reaching but is nowhere to be seen. He can’t see anything but himself in the mirror. The world blacks out but him and the mirror. His feet are still moving him somewhere. He’s looking at the mirror at an awkward angle.

He hits the couch in his room. His fingers clench and unclench. He flops down onto it.

It went by like dusk to dawn...

Clenching and unclenching until his fingers get sore and he slams his hands onto the couch to stop thinking about it but how can he when his… his reflection...

Isn’t that the way?

He’s grabbing at his blanket beneath him harshly. He fists it and his mouth opens in a grimace and his eyebrows furrow so hard his head hurts and his lip shakes and…

Everybody’s got their dues in life to pay~…

The voice is rising and the music is rising and the specter fills up the space with something passively threatening, something that gently nudges Billy’s shoulders, something that presses at Billy’s head, something present.

Billy’s fisting hard at the blanket. His fingers are sore. He pulls at it. His finger slips into a moth hold or two. The voice reaches the top, along with the guitar and then they both topple over the peak and there’s the sound of a rip and something under Billy gives out. He pulls harder, hearing more tears, fingers dipping into the rips he’s created in his blanket.

I know nobody knows… where it comes and where it goes

Billy looks down at his fists tearing his blanket and they stop, pull away… thoughtless. His hands shake to do something, maybe grab at his aching head and they do, he does- no, they do, his hands do, but they feel uneven tufts of curls and it’s a jolt. His brain shocks itself. He pulls his hands away with a cry because what is this. He’s become alien to himself. He sees the mirror in front of him but he’s not sure who he sees in it. It’s not him.

I know it’s everybody’s sin…. You’ve got to lose to know, how to win…

The music is with him. Towering over him. The presence is daunting. Feels like it’s challenging him to something as a separate chord climbs and falls as soon as it starts. The spectre falls down. Settles with him. Next to him. He stands. He’s unsettled. Nothing in the mirror is right nothing is right nothing is right. He shoves the flat part of his knuckles on his thumbs into his eyes to fix it, fix something, fix this image that doesn’t feel right. Fix this creature he doesn’t recognize. His mind is swimming.

He walks around the room. He’s not sure if this is easier or harder than before, but he still stumbles.

Half my life’s in books’ written pages… Lived and learned from fools and from sages…

He tucks his chin into his chest, his knuckles still pressed to his eyes, the world black and scattered with the spots he’s pressing into them. His stomach is twitching with sobs that meet up in his throat and push out of his mouth. They’re small. That same droning chord is persistent, rising and filling up into the room, aiming to devour him in something. Drown him.

You know it’s true-

The end grows into a growl and takes with it a feeling that’s animalistic. The specter grows feral. Billy opens his eyes.

His chest heaves. His eyes burn as they water. His mouth twists up in misery. Because he sees it. There. At his feet. Under his boots. He’s fucking stepping on it.

All the things…

His hair. In curly tufts on the ground beneath his feet and in front of them.

Come back to you…

He’s stepping on it.

He looks up and he recognizes his face now and he… he…. He’s….

He’s distraught.

And he rounds on absolutely anything he can reach. Whatever is in arm’s distance behind him and it happens to be his lamp and he grabs it and he throws it with all his might to the ground and-

Sing with me, sing for the year-

-and it shatters. His mind is racing and he has no thoughts past the music. The presence is dark. It’s a shadow. It’s all around him. It’s in his vision.

-sing for the laughter and sing for the tear...

He’s swinging. His eyes are blurry from his own hot tears and they sear his cheeks as he grabs at whatever he can- vaguely registers the necks of bottles and the grooves of records against his palm and beneath his fingertips as he hashes through the world around him, trying to tear through the shadows consuming him and the tears are flooding everything out and he’s just swinging and smashing and-

Sing with me, it’s just for today… maybe tomorrow the good lord will take you away~

He’s swinging and crashing and smashing like he’s being challenged. Threatened.. Whatever exists in this room with him is menacing. Malevolent. Feeding off his pain. Sipping it through his tears. He punches the wall and then the drums hit and they stop and the guitar is back and-

“Billy?”

It’s a voice. Billy’s sure it’s his own somehow. Sure it’s the song somehow. Sure it’s this presence somehow, whatever is it, floating through the chords of the song like a friend seeking a kill.

“B-Billy? I… Uhm…. Please stop.”

It’s small. Feminine. Familiar. Shaking.

“Please don’t hur-.... You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Maxine.

Billy strides to the door and throws it open. The violent thud it makes as the knob hits the wall fills something in Billy’s chest. It springs more tears in his eyes. His chest is sobbing.

“Billy?”

There’s something Billy can’t place in Max’s eyes. If his mind were even a tad clearer he thinks he’d recognize it… categorize it under worry or concern or care or even something deeper...

But the guitar chord hits a high note and the shadow specter of the music seeps into his mind and he’s a husk.

The chorus picks up again, singing about singing and Billy is standing there looking at this tiny red head standing in his way and she’s blurred by his tears and-

“Billy, what are you doing-”

“Mind your damn business, Maxine.”

“What happened-?”

“Mind your business.”

The music is rising. It fills Billy’s throat.

“Did… did he-? Do…?”

“Do what?” Billy spits down at Max, leaning over her, invading her space. Max’s eyes flood with fear and it makes Billy step back. The shadows of the song step away. He sees through the blur to find the girl.

“Do that?” She asks, voice small and soft and shaking and weak. Eyes filling with tears of their own and it fills Billy’s gut with bile and he’s so sick of it. So sick of everything. Thinks he might be sick. So fucking done. Broken. Feral.

Maybe tomorrow the good lord will take you away~

Billy’s eyes are filling. He glares as hard as he can while his eyelids are all mushy and swollen.

“Get out of my way, Maxine.”

She’s cowering.

“What are you gonna do?”

“Just get out of my way.” He growls and takes his arm and shoves and she stumbles back and the music is building and then he’s storming down the hallway, punching the walls and cracking every picture frame he passes and the voice is following him, sounding just as loud to him in the hallway as it did to him in his room as it chants-

Dream on… dream on… dream on… dream yourself a dream come true~

And he throws pillows off the couch and shatters a lamp on the ground with a shove and his blurry eyes search fervently for what he wants as the guitar wails and runs down and-

Dream on… dream on…. Dream on… dream until your dream come through~

And the guitar gets darker and he’s got it. Grabs it off the mantle. Looks as steadily as he can with shaking and blurry eyes at this thing in his hands. This picture frame... with their stupid family in it. This stupid thing they call family to convince others. It never convinced him. He’s not sure how it could have convinced anyone. His tears are so hot on his face they feel like they’re boiling and his nose is leaking and his saliva is runny and his chest is heaving and he’s-

“Billy?”

He’s thunder. He’s lightning and he’s rain. The music followed him down the hallway and follows him with heavier footsteps back up as the voice screams on with-

Dream on… dream on… dream on… dream on…

And each chant sees Billy taking the frame in his hands and slamming the corner of it into the wall of the hallway as he walks, goes back to his room, ignores Max as she cries to him some kind of garbled nonsense and the music is filling his shoes like a dark puddle and his eyes are drowned.

And the voice that was once singing is now screeching into the air, into the corners of his room, into the darkest parts and Billy looks at the stupid faces of these stupid people he’s been forced to love and thinks of how the only happiness in his life is going to be taken away from him and probably has been permanently taken away now because he’s fucking hideous with bruises and almost no hair and he’s wailing. Deep from his chest, right alongside the voice from the stereo, hurling the picture frame at his mirror blindly as he screams and hitting his target and hearing a loud crack as it shatters and he’s just screaming. Everything inside of him rising and bubbling and boiling over and over and over some more and he’s sure his body will never settle. He’ll never know peace. His mind and his body and his heart will never rest like it did this afternoon in that field with the warm sun and the blue sky and a love underneath him that was all his own for once for fucking once in his miserable life and he opens his eyes and he’s disgusted he’s a disgrace, he’s bruised and bloody and nearly bald and his fingers and knuckles are bruised and bleeding and in that cracked mirror is the most miserable version of himself and he can’t bear to look.

Sing with me-

He grabs the mirror.

Sing for the year-

He throws it to the ground. It covers his fallen hair.

Sing for the laughter-

He stomps it with his boot. Hot tears stain the toes of his shoe.

Sing for the tear-

He reaches for his bedsheets. He needs to take a few steps to get there.

Sing with me-

He tears at them, ripping all the way down. As far as he can.

Just for today.

His chest heaves. He rounds on his makeshift vanity. Swings his arms violently until it’s all on the ground as his feet, discarded and broken and cracked.

Maybe tomorrow the good lord will take you away-

He looks up from the ground. Up to Max, who’s hugging the door frame and shaking, watching with horror or what Billy thinks must be the equivalent. Something equivalent to it. The music and it’s guitar and the specter it’s conjured up is still rising, expanding, residing in every space of the room, pushing Billy out of the space and he’s struggling, fighting, mind getting so nervous and worried as it looks at Max that it needs to look away, needs to distract.

The song repeats itself as he reaches and throws and rips and tears everything in sight. Posters, picture frames, books, cassettes. He steps on everything, smashes everything, tears pour out and out and out, his mind is running and racing and throbbing in pain in hurt in worry in all of its unease and he picks up a hand weight and rounds towards the window and chucks it as hard as he can and-

The sound of the shattering of the window breaks everything. Breaks any resolve still left within him. Lets the shadow and spectre of the music out and into the night as the room is pitched into a bitter and unforgiving chill. Let’s all of Billy’s breath out of his lungs as he heaves and heaves and heaves like he’s going to hurl. He stands there, looking at the window, pictures something faint and distant and at one time hopeful in his mind before he turns around to Max and it’s just music now, the last of the words have been sung, and he mutters a dark and languid and miserable:

“Don’t wait up for me.”

And then he strides to the window and steps on the small table he has in front of it and jumps out and walks into the unfriendly night, a storm. More than a husk. Once again a human. At least, feeling something closer to human.

And then it’s just Max. She rushes to the window, the music turning into a haunting kind of alarm that doesn’t seem alert or at all worried or hurried or serious. A lazy alarm that warns you of an error in the system. She stands in front of the broken window, exposed to the cold, cutting her hand on the glass in her hurry to watch after Billy, watch as he leaves, watch as he stomps his way out of their house and out to the street and down the street and she’s crying. Her mind is spinning. Her face is heavy with tears and sorrow and fear. Her heaving subsides slowly as the music does.

She’s alone in this house. Truly alone. Not even the presence of Billy lingers like usual.

And then she runs to the phone to do the only thing she can think of- she dodges the carnage strewn across their house and runs to the phone and calls the only person she can think to call. The only person she thinks will for sure be able to help him from doing something crazy like leaving with nothing but the clothes on his back and whatever random cash he carries in his pocket.

Another song starts up slowly. The phone picks up.

“Jim Hopper speaking.”