#practically just an excuse to draw them in big fancy dresses

[girlatrocity]

i read a really cute fic the other day

[nathanbatemanfucker]

summary: never wanted love, just a fancy car.

pairing: cowgirl!reader x cowboy!din

contents: 18+/nsfw/smut, cowboy au, typical Wild West violence & values (murder, stealing), flirting, pining, perceived unrequited feelings, yearning (if you squint)

wc: 4k

an: part two comin at yaaaaa. these two are so special to me. reader does have a code name in this that she uses, so if your name is scarlet sorry in advance!

series masterlist | writing masterlist

ch 1: takes one to know one

You don’t discuss the logistics or practicality of sticking together, you just do it. After meandering in Strawberry a few days longer to garner more money and supplies the two of you head southeast.

Din has a tent. You’ve gotten used to traveling as light as possible and staying in structures that already exist so as not to draw attention to yourself. But you already feel safer traveling with him. You feel yourself loosening up in the wake of his companionship and competency. And in that, you find a discomfort you’re not ready to unpack.

The town you end up in after dabbling in Strawberry– Cheyenne– is the closest thing you’ve seen to a true city. There are talks and whispers of New York and all the structure and opportunity it brings. Bustling with thousands of folk, buggies, art, and theater. Not to mention proper plumbing. But, settling down isn’t an option right now– or ever—you quickly remind yourself, as not to get your hopes up for something that doesn’t exist. Besides, you’re not sure you could ever imagine yourself working a steady job. Staying put in one place sounds so…stagnant.

Cheyenne is markets in back alleys, crowded streets, and a view of the sea. You’re grateful for the cool, salty air of the coast during this hellish summer. But the city has its cons: mixed in with the salty air is the stench of pollution that comes with such a populated place. Its lawman force— ever present and large— works to you and Din’s disadvantage. The work you do is harder in a place like this but the spoils will last you ten times over than in places like Strawberry or Annesburg.

You and Din have taken a room at an inn close to the edge of the city. You’ve just returned from a bath down the hall, one that was well overdue. Din’s already dressed in sleeping clothes, his hair wet and slicked back from his own bath. For just a moment you wonder what his hair feels lik. If it's as soft or thick as it looks. Whatever spell that is breaks when he closes his eyes as you enter in just a towel, turning over in the bed.

There’s nothing there for him, not that you can pick up. It shouldn’t matter, there’s nothing there for you either. He’s your partner, life has been so much better with him at your side already. It runs smoother, it feels safer. The fuzzy, unfocused picture that you were living in sharpened. Why would either of you even think to jeopardize something that works so well with the simple thought of more? You won’t.

“There’s a big wig in this city. Robert Leroy— folks call him Bobby,” You say to distract yourself from the sinking feeling in your stomach.

“What’s he got to do with anythin’? We’ve got our targets.”

You and Din had stopped at the jail as soon as you’d entered the city, eager to pick up as many bounties as you could. It earns you some trust with the lawmen and gives you an excuse to meander the city at any time, asking questions to get the lay of the land and search for real targets. This time it was easier than that, but it doesn’t mean you won’t maximize your time here, exploring every possible avenue of income.

“Bobby is the reason they’re our targets. I used my charm on the sheriff, he says Bobby’s the one who put the price on their heads. We get them and maybe we get invited to that big fancy party that’s next week.”

You aren’t able to see it, but Din frowns, teeth gritting at the mention of using your charm. He should be used to it by now, and it should never bother him. But in the recesses of his mind, there’s no denying that it does. None of those men deserve to look at you, let alone witness your charm.

“Party,” Din repeats, sounding skeptical.

“It’s at his house. His mansion. The one full of expensive shit,” You explain as you slip into the only thing of your mother’s you have left— an old, scratchy nightgown.

“You’re still not sellin’ it, girl.”

“We can’t pass up all the riches in that man’s house, Din. You’ll have to deal. I’ll charm, you’ll steal and we’ll leave this place,” You insist as you slide into bed next to him, facing away so that your backs are just a few inches apart.

Din’s body radiates heat and despite the sweltering heat, you stay beneath the blanket with him. Sometimes if the two of you sleep close enough to the other, you’ll wake up tangled in his arms the next morning. Neither of you say anything about it, going about those mornings as if they’re any other. And maybe they are.

“Do we gotta?”

“Strawberry’s reapings will only last so long,” You reason, glancing over your shoulder at him.

“You charm, I steal,” He repeats his version of your words and you can hear the mirth in his sandy voice.

“I just said that.”

“Did you? I didn’t hear,” He stretches, snuggling further in the mattress.

“You’re full of shit.”

He snorts, shaking his head, “Go to bed, girl, we’ve got busy days ahead.”

Din was right— the next week the two of you work from sunrise to sunset capturing all the bounties you’d collected from the sheriff. Some are easier than others, frequented black markets or popular bars for folk that run in your lifestyle.

But there’s one that’s tedious to catch; Stagecoach Mary, a notorious cowgirl who you’ve always admired all holed up in her little shack that rests in its own little bayou just outside of the city. The shootout with her eats up most of your ammo, and a bullet ends up grazing your arm. Din gets Mary hog-tied and strapped to his horse before he comes to check on you. He’s deathly quiet like he always is, but you can feel the urgency in his movements. He removes your button-down without asking, using some of the water in his canteen to cleanse the wound before he covers it in salve and wraps it.

“You alright?” He asks quietly as he helps you back into your shirt.

Your eyes go a bit wide at the raw sound of concern in his voice, but you quickly brush it off, “S’just a scratch, I’ll be just fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure, Din,” You say gently, and though it stings like a bitch, you aren’t going to say differently. The last thing your resolve needs is him fawning over you, worried about your health.

His gaze raises to meet yours, eyes narrowing to appraise you before he sighs and starts towards his horse. Mary is quiet on the ride back thankfully, and when you drop her off at the sheriff’s office, you get exactly what you two have been working so hard for. Bobby himself is there– the sheriff had told him about you and Din, how promising your skills had been so far and he wanted to thank you both personally.

He looks like money, with frills and shiny leather shoes, his hair slicked back with a pomade that smells like pine, ““I can’t thank you fine people enough. She’s been a real thorn in my side.”

You take the hand he’s offered, shaking it daintly, “We’re happy to help Mr. LeRoy, no one should have to leave in fear.”

Leroy squeezes your hand before bending to kiss it, “Please, sweetheart, call me Bobby.”

You giggle softly, batting your eyelashes at him, “Bobby, then. I’m Scar. This is my partner Djarin.”

Din blinks in surprise before quickly schooling his expression into the impassive mask he’s so good at. It's the first that he’s heard of your name. He knows that this is part of the charm, knows that you wouldn’t give this man– or any man– your real name, but curiosity blooms inside of him. Had you just picked it randomly? Did it have any deeper meaning? Is it close to your real name?

“Scar? As in Scarlet? What a precious little gem,” Bobby runs his hand down the length of your arm, turning to look at Din with a glint of jealousy in his eyes. “Djarin, bet you never get enough of this sweet woman’s charm.”

“We aren’t— she’s my workin’ partner, s’all,” Din says firmly, though the way that he clenches his jaw says otherwise.

But who is Bobby to tell a grown man how he truly feels? Especially if he can reap benefits. He grins, turning back to look at you, “Well I’ll be hog wallered, I thought a dime like you’d be taken, Scar. If that’s true…I’m having this grand party in just a few days. Come, the both of you.”

“Oh, we couldn’t Bobby!”

“I insist!”

A sly grin spreads across your face and you smooth your hand over his, “Well if you insist. We’ll be there.”

A few nights later, after spending the days in fitting rooms, shopping (and stealing), you and Din are finishing up getting ready for the party in your inn room. You peek around the partition to make sure that he’s dressed and your mouth goes dry. He’s in a sleek black suit, the silver accents of his belt buckle and cowboy boots glinting in the last rays of sun that flood the small room. He looks incredible, his hair wet and slicked back, skin scrubbed completely clean. You lean back, bracing yourself against the wall as you force those thoughts out of your head. A distraction, you need a distraction. You look down at your dress, toying with the skirts– perhaps your distraction could be in distracting him.

“How do I look?” You ask as you step from behind the partition, holding your arms out as if to present yourself.

Din simply stares at you, and you’re about to tell him to forget it when he finally speaks. “You look—“ He stops, going quiet for what seems like forever before he clears his throat.

“What, is it? I look bad, don’t I? It’s stuffy, but we gotta look the part.” Your head tilts as you turn this and that way, watching the skirt flutter as you twirl.

“You look—it’s good,” He supplies, turning towards the mirror to fiddle with his tie. He swallows, ignoring the way the fabric of his tie sticks to his sweaty hands.

You turn to look at him, frown deepening as you smooth your hands down the intricate corset of the dress, “You sure? I need him to look at me, and if it’s not pleasin'—“

“It’s plenty pleasin’, now finish up and let’s go.”

You and Din rented a carriage, standing out to others invited would just make this evening worse. The ride– like most of your traveling with Din– is quiet, and you fiddle with your fingers, forcing yourself not to pick at the polish you’d gotten down for the occasion.

The mansion is grand, all cream with pillars and statues so delicate they look fit to shatter if you look at them wrong. You’re guided inside by men dressed in impeccable suits, hor devours and glasses of champagne pressed into your hands as you make your way through the expansive foyer and down the stairs into an even large backyard.

This is something you could only imagine in those moving pictures you’ve only had time to see once or twice. There are tables full of food and alcohol, droves of people dressed to the nines dancing and laughing and eating. And while you’re impressed, disgust accompanies it. The excess when there are so many who don’t have enough to make it a week. You’d seen plenty of unhoused folks on the streets as you and Din explored Cheyenne and this party could feed them all for days on end. You swallow your disdain for everyone here by focusing on the goal and painting a smile on your face as you breeze through the crowd. Try as you might, you can’t find Bobby so you park at a table that’s moderately far from the various groups of others.

“Maybe he hasn’t come out yet,” You whisper to Din as you pretend to look over some of the food. It looks so fancy that it’ll make you sick.

“Stay here and watch for’em, I’ll see what I can find out.”

Your eyes don’t leave him as he skates through the crowd easily and your mouth turns down in a frown when he’s stopped by a beautiful woman. To your surprise, he doesn’t blow her off, smiling as he begins to talk to her. You’ve never seen Din like this before. In the short month or so that you two have been together, you’ve been the lead on charming as all the places you’ve been in teem with men and their testosterone. You aren’t sure what this feeling is that rises in your chest as you watch the woman Din is talking to throw her head back with laughter. What you do know is that you want to end. Your feet are moving you towards him before you can think logically about it.

“Djarin, could I speak to you for a moment?” You say in your sweetest, most polite voice— emphasis on your southern drawl.

The woman he’s speaking to gives you a smile that doesn’t touch her eyes.

Din excuses you both, walking you over to a quiet spot beneath an ice sculpture that is surprisingly intact despite the heat of tonight’s air, “What is it, girl?”

Delicately as not to draw anyone’s attention, you remove your arm from his grasp, mouth pressed into a thin line, “What the hell happened to ‘you charm, I steal’?”

“She’s been in the house before. I was gettin’ the lay of it. You ain’t doing much charming if you’re chewin’ me out, are you? Look who it is.”

Bobby has finally made an appearance.

You narrow your eyes at him but stay silent. Din just stares back, unphased and you eventually give up, slinking off to do your part. To charm. Once you’re by his side, Bobby stays close to you like a bee stuck in honey– it's annoying really but this life has given you incredible acting skills so he’s none the wiser.

Lucky for you he gets distracted by some bigwig oil men who start to throw around some big numbers. You stand by his side, listening politely– gathering the names of these men just in case you ever run into them again– until you grow bored. You excuse yourself to the powder room, assuring him that you’ll return shortly as you leave the sweetest kiss on his cheek. You feel the way he shivers against you, his eyes cloudy as he nods.

Not long after you’d gone to talk to Bobby you’d seen Din slip out of the crowd and into the house. It may be a pain to find him a place this large but if you’re caught it’ll be realistic to play a dizzy, turned-around maiden.

As soon as you’re out of sight you spit, wiping your mouth with your sleeve in a move most unladylike as you try to find Din. The halls are empty, it seems as if Bobby’s staff is either occupied with entertaining guests or off for the evening.

“Up here, girl,” Din calls from above you, and when your eyes meet he holds up a sack that looks fit to burst. The smile that spreads across his face is different than the one he’d given the woman he talked to early, this one is genuine and it makes your heart flutter.

“How’s it going?” You ask once you make your way up to the stairs to stand beside him.

“Good, last room we got left is his office. C’mon.”

You follow after him closely, keeping your steps light like a cat so as not to draw any attention from below. When the two of you turn a corner down the final hall which holds Bobby’s office, there are two guards— one blonde, one brunette— standing outside of the door that is gilded in gold. You roll your eyes at its gaudiness but step forward with wide, guileless eyes.

“I’m sorry you two, it seems we’ve got lost trying to find the powder room. Could you help us?” You bat your lashes at the two men, standing up a little taller to push your breasts out.

“Back the way you came, down the stairs, to the left,” the blonde one says, unaffected by your attempt at charm.

Nevertheless, you try again, getting a little closer to the brunette, whose eyes have had a hard time staying on your face.

You gaze up at him with puppy dog eyes, “Could you maybe walk us? I mean— we are lost.”

You raise your hand to fiddle with the distracted guard’s tie, but the first one’s hand shoots out, wrapping tightly around your wrist. You gasp, looking over at the guard in feigned offense, like you’re some helpless maiden– like you wouldn’t slit his throat if your knife wasn’t buried under so many layers of fabric.

“It would do you best to walk away ma’am or I’ll have to call the lawmen,” The blonde says, his grip tightening around your wrist until it makes you wince.

Din takes a step forward, his voice so low and rough it sends a welcome chill down your spine. You don’t have to look at him to know how terrifying he looks right now, “No, it would do you best to let her go or I’ll have to crush your windpipe.”

“You threatenin’ me, yokel?”

You lean closer to the brunette guard, grimacing as you say, “Well this ain’t gonna end well is it?”

His eyes widen for a moment, flickering behind you and you know that Din is moving, already going in for the kill. You do your best to pry your hand from the other guard’s grip but it is tight, and as you struggle the one in front of you struggles to get his gun. As soon as your hand is free you reach for his neck, planting your feet so that you’ll have the strength to snap his neck. There’s a loud crack from beside you before you can get your hands in the right place, and your glance over to Din, seeing the way he followed through— the man's face is red and limp, the blood vessels in his eyes busted.

You regret getting off track because it seems the guard still alive is successful, getting off one shot that flies up into the ceiling. Refocusing, you knee him in the stomach, and his gun clatters to the ground just as you get your hands around his neck and twist as hard as you can.

“Fuck,” You breathe as the second man’s body hits the floor. His gunshot will absolutely draw attention, you and Din need to move quickly.

“In and out, no safes, whatever is unlocked and out in the open.”

You follow his instructions with no hesitation, stepping over the two bodies and moving through Bobby’s office with ease. There are solid gold paperweights, stacks of bonds, maps of train routes and what they’ll be holding, and even a few stacks of money in drawers. It's a jackpot if you’ve ever seen one and the two of you share a look of wonder before kicking it into gear to get out of there. You can hear the footsteps of lawmen rumbling through the house and give Din the signal to move into the room across the hall– it's another powder room. The two of you squeeze into the shower, listening intently as the lawmen call to each other, trying to figure out where you’ve gone.

You hear a voice say, “They must’ve gotten by us. Comb the streets.”

That works perfectly in your favor, and you grin over a Din, knowing that the streets are not how you plan to escape. As soon as the coast is clear, Din grabs your hand, leading you the opposite way of all the lawmen and house staff that have started towards Bobby’s office and bedroom. The two of you sneak out a side door and make your way toward the bayou in the backyard. You’d already set up a boat there to make an escape— no one would expect it since you and Din had rented a carriage to arrive.

He helps you step in the boat, grasping the hem of your skirts so that it’s easier for you to step in, and joins you as soon as you're settled. He doesn’t know how to row— not well at least— so you grab the oars and get to work. Your horses are strewn up to trees not too far from here and afterward you’ll collect your belongings from the inn and leave Cheyenne for good.

Din has started to count the money he retrieved, thumbing through the bills with his steady fingers.

“I pocketed a few things here and there while I waited for you— mostly watches but some wallets too. This should be a lot, we could rest in the next town for a bit if you wanted,” You whisper into the night.

He nods at you but doesn’t stop counting, pulling out a few gold bars you imagine he got from a safe. Once he’s finished counting he restarts, wanting to make sure he’s right.

“This is enough to get outta this,” He mumbles once he’s finished.

You think you’ve misheard him. “What?”

“This enough to get outta this,” He says again, looking up at you. You’re too busy rowing to gaze back at him and he takes this opportunity to look at you unabashedly, something he never lets himself do. It’s foggy enough that even if you were to notice his eyes burning into you, he could play it off, blaming it on the wispiness in the air.

Though you both look ridiculous, stiff, and dolled up for this party even as you row diligently through the muggy bayou, everything about you still shines through. His eyes are syrupy slow, following the curve of your jaw, the swell of your cheek, the line of your nose.

“Din?”

“Hmm?”

“Outta this profession, you mean?” You repeat the question he hadn’t heard as he got lost in you.

He clears his throat and sits up, staring into the fog, “You can’t tell me you never thought about it. Slowing down with a little patch of land, few animals and crops.”

Sure you had– on your loneliest days you’d let your mind wander. You let yourself dream about a life like that with someone. When Din came into your life, those dreams became a little more specific no matter how many times you tried to push them away.

Your brows shoot up as you finally look at him, face twisted in surprise, “You want to settle?”

“I said I’ve thought about it. This is just enough to get far enough that no one knows us. We’d need a lot of money to get everything for a stead. Not to mention makin’ it sustainable.”

This is the first time you’ve ever heard him talk like this and though you’ve only been doing this together for a month or so, you’d think it was something he would mention before entering into a partnership with someone. But hell— he still doesn’t know your name. It's worked so far, hasn’t it?

You make it to where your horses are, Augustine and Cresida look at you both expectantly, as if they’ve been waiting all day and have places to be.

“You’re serious,” You say in disbelief as he helps you out of the boat.

“There’s no reason for me to lie, girl,” He starts to shed his layers, removing the suit jacket and the crisp white button-down in favor of his long-sleeved undershirt. “You’ve never…”

You fish the pair of jeans you stashed on your horse out, hiking them up under the huge skirt of your dress before you take a knife and cut through it. You easily cut through the fabric of the tight corset, letting out a relieving breath.

“I have. Here and there. Didn’t see a point for it if it was just to be alone,” You murmur, shrugging into your shirt.

He’s quiet for a moment, before whispering into the night, barely heard over the symphony of crickets and cicadas, “Different now, ain’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Everything’s been different since meeting him. As the two of you mount your horses and start off into the night, your mind can’t help but wander back to that key detail— this man wants to settle down with a wild, nameless woman like you. Maybe that says enough. Maybe it’s all you’ll need.

ch 3: eyes full of stars

series taglist: @honeybrowne, @hotchs-bitch, @jazzelsaur, @lesbianhotch, @ivyheliotrope, @campingwiththecharmings, @frogers, @juneknight, @obscurexsorrows

[call-me-aesthetic]

If Twisted Wonderland was an American Public School

WARNING: There are some slight sensitive topics that are featured in here! Reader discretion is advised!

Part 2 can be found here

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts:

- That one preppy girl who takes all honors and AP classes ���

- Wants everyone to know that he’s becoming a doctor one day for his strict parents or he’ll dishonor the family

- Reminds the teacher about homework, knowing well that he’ll get slander for it

- Complains about how he got a 90 on his test or a B on his report card, a try hard much?

- Wears a cardigan with thicc but cute glasses since he’s one of those people with can’t see shit on the board so he has to move to the front of the class

Ace Trappola:

- The SoundCloud rapper, that’s it

- “Wanna listen to my mixtape? It’s pretty fire, my guy.” 😩🔥

- You will not miss him BLASTING out some song on his Bluetooth speaker, that shit be echoing through the hallways

- Tells you to stop what you’re doing only for him to either sing horribly or do a backflip, thinking that he’s so cool

- Wears a Supreme jacket with AirPods and waves on his head

Deuce Spade:

- Assuming that he’s still a delinquent, he’s that kid with the most fucked up school record

- Not much of a bully but will still talk shit to your face without caring, might even throw stuff at you during a lesson and you would be the one getting in trouble instead of him 🗿

- If he ever gets mad, it would be overdramatic like kicking the desks, punching the lockers, or walking out of the classroom unannounced and everyone would look at each other wondering wtf happened

- Covers the entire desks with drawings of skulls and those “s” if you know what I mean

- Wears Champion hoodies, wants you to know that he’s broke and rich at the same time

Trey Clover:

- The guy that’s not really popular but everyone knows him since he’s in all their classes

- Most people might have a crush on him because he’s REALLY nice 😳👉👈

- Gives off “older brother” vibes based on the way he looks and acts, like offering you a ride home if you beg ask nicely

- Secretly bakes creme brulee but doesn’t want to mess with the flow so he sticks to the status quo

- Wears the school’s hoodie just because he thinks it looks good on him, and the fact that he doesn’t know what else to wear

Cater Diamond:

- Hot Cheetos girl 🥵

- Has a whole buffet of food in his backpack and will not hesitate to eat them during a lesson, no sharing either sorry

- Excuses himself to the bathroom or full on skips class just to film a Tiktok

- Has about 100 followers on Instagram Magicam and brags about how he’s famous

- Wears a Thrasher hoodie with large hoop earrings and his hair in a bun

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar:

- The kid who flunked their freshman year that also sort of vibes with new classmates

- Always gets mistaken as a teacher by people since he looks and sounds old

- Knows the lessons but still fails them anyways, didn’t really give a damn either 🙄

- Captain of every sports club you can think of, never actually plays but has a lot of knowledge on them

- Wears the school’s letterman from years ago since it used to be his brother’s and that he’s too lazy to buy a new one

Ruggie Bucchi:

- That one kid who NEVER has money for the book fair or any other school event

- Always has to ask his classmates for some cash

- If he somehow does, then he’s one of those kids who buys Diary of the Wimpy Kid or the World Record books

- If he’s feeling cheap, he’ll buy the “cool stuff” like the chocolate scented calculator or fruit snacks 😭

- Wears oversized hoodies and basketball shorts that are clearly hand-me-downs

Jack Howl:

- That one athletic kid who’s both scary good and competitive when it comes to school games like football or soccer

- Literally the best player on his team and without him, they’re trash as hell 💀

- Tries his absolute best to support his teammates without yelling at them for how dumb they are

- “KICK THE FUCKING BALL! DO YOUR LEGS EVEN WORK?!”

- Wears the school’s jersey just to show off his “school spirit”

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto:

- The kid who sell snacks for “charity” but everyone knows he’s keeping the money to himself

- If you don’t have cash or try to negotiate with him, the only thing he’ll do is raise the price up

- “What do you mean you don’t have ten bucks? I can see it in your pocket.”

- Just bring nothing with you, he’ll doing anything to steal your stuff 🤭

- Wears a collar shirt with a tie and khakis that have pockets to keep his glasses and money in

Jade Leech:

- The kid who puts on a goody two shoes facade but is actually a stoner

- Only does “safe” drugs like vape but occasionally smokes weed, mostly in the bathroom or behind the school 🌬

- Can play it off and hide the scent when he’s high, teachers never suspect anything from him

- No one really cares to stop him unless he gets caught or something idk

- Wears clothing that either makes him look like a businessman or a junky, there’s nothing in between

Floyd Leech:

- The kid that’s plays basketball or volleyball just because he’s hella tall, and is actually good at the sports but doesn’t put much effort into them

- Always stays behind after gym, even though the teacher tries to make him leave for his next class 😬

- “I swear after this one shot, I’ll go to class.” *He never made that shot*

- Will jump you no matter who or where you are, and will get angry if you step on his new shoes

- Wears the jersey of any famous team with the latest pair of Jordan sneakers

Scarabia

Kalim Al Asim:

- VSCO girl at best, don’t lie to me now 🤡

- The only words he knows are “And I oop– sksksk.” and “Save the turtles.”

- Walks during a track meet while everyone else is running and sweating hard, the teacher doesn’t care either

- Doesn’t really do anything in gym but talks to his classmates and stands near the water fountain to refill his Hydro flask

- Wears tie dye shirts with cute scrunchies

Jamil Viper:

- That one quiet kid who everybody thinks is a serial killer but he’s actually not, I swear

- He just wants school to be over and spend the rest of his summer relaxing 😔

- Although he shouldn’t abuse his “power,” he‘ll move his hands in his pockets or backpack to make it look like he’s about to pull a weapon out.

- “Chill, I’m just grabbing a pencil.” *Everyone in the class started crying*

- Wears dark colored hoodies that intimidates people but are actually comfy

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit:

- The baddie popular girl 😌💅✨

- Arrives to school late with a Starbucks in hand from his local Target

- Fixes himself every 5 seconds like reapplying his lipgloss or spraying Bath and Body Works cherry blossom perfume

- Uses acrylic nails and long hair extensions as weapons during a cat fight

- Wears a crop top with ripped jeans and those clout sunglasses

Rook Hunt:

- That creepy guy in the hallways who tries to get your attention, even if you don’t know him

- Scares people when he says, “Ayo, where my hug at?” 🥶💯

- Uses at least 10 cans of Axe body spray a week after gym class, which stinks up the locker rooms

- Waves at you if he passes your class, even walking into the room just to say hi

- Wears literally anything but always include a hat

Epel Felmier:

- The artist girl who just wants to be alone 🧑‍🎨

- Purposely draws in front of you but pretends like you’re not looking

- If you complement him, he’ll just brush it off and proceeds to diss himself

- “Thanks but I’m not THAT good at drawing, teehee.” *Insert Radio Rebel face*

- Wears a hoodie or a cardigan with big pockets to put his art supplies in

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud:

- I don’t even need to tell you who he is, y’all already know ahaha 🥴

- Sneaks a whole PlayStation in his backpack so he can play with it during lunch

- Is on his phone 24/7 even in class to the point where teachers don’t care anymore

- Tries to get people into anime but only to little success

- Wears a shirt of any anime character or that damn ahegao hoodie, girl bye

Ortho Shroud:

- The nerdy kid who’s known for destroying others at many games

- Plays classics like D&D, Yugioh, Pokémon, the whole shabang

- Daily Beyblade battles during recess with everyone surrounding him, the menacing aura radiates off of him

- Will steal your things if you lose to him but gives it back a week later cuz he’s sweet 🥰

- Wears light up Sketchers shoes and those Minecraft shirts you find at Old Navy

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia:

- The theatre kid who also goes to band practice, change my mind 👁👄👁

- Takes his role seriously when it comes to school plays and concerts, even if he gets casted as a damn tree or doesn’t go solo

- Remembers the songs and their lyrics to any musical you name, a really good singer at that too

- Plays almost every instrument, you definitely know this since you can hear him down the hallways during a test

- Wears a white button up shirt, black pants with fancy dress shoes, and top it all off with a fricking Rolex watch

Lilia Vanrouge:

- The weird guy who pranks people and vandalizes school property in every way possible

- If you ever get a textbook with a message that tells you to go to a certain page only for you to found a picture of a dick, yeah that was him 😒

- When using a Chromebook, he’ll leave a tab open on YouTube so when the next person uses it, pray that your ears will still work by tomorrow

- During lunch, he is a literal DEMON that mixes milk with chicken nuggets together and having the audacity to eat it too

- Wears an oversized raincoat or a windbreaker but idk wtf kind of things he has hiding underneath

Silver:

- That guy in class who consumes Monster energy drinks and falls asleep 99% of the time but somehow manages to pass the class 🤷

- Whenever he’s awake, he’ll talk to the teachers since he’s basically friends with them for some reason

- Writes his name out of boredom on any desk you sit on but in different places, sometimes around the corners or the sides

- Has a sixth sense because he’ll wake up if you try to draw on his face and if you did get something on him, it’s on sight

- Wears those colorful hoodies that zips all the way up to cover his face with a matching backpack, it’s pretty cool ngl

Sebek Zigvolt:

- That kid who literally knows everything about historical wars and will show it off during class

- Also has knowledge on weaponry, which has people questioning him but he’s just very dedicated on serving his country and people

- Knows how to fight and defend himself from a bitch since he spent his summer at a military boot camp, put respect on my man’s name 😤

- Honestly a great partner for a group project, actually does the given work but not the whole thing for you

- Wears anything that has camo pattern and chunky combat boots

I only made this because me and my friends were talking about our school memories so yeah. This is based from my experience so they might not be exactly accurate. Might even be a part two if you want.

[poisonedapples]

Patton’s Home for Traumatized Kids - Chapter Three

New School and Friendships

Chapter Summary: Roman has his first day in a new district while some bonds are strengthened.

First Chapter Previous Chapter Story Masterlist

Warnings: Past abuse mentions, mentions of hidden cameras, anxiety, some bullying, crying, and food mentions

Chapter Word Count: 5,860

Taglist: @shade-romeo, @grayson-22, @pixelated-pineapple, @acrobaticcatfeline, @astrozei, @edupunkn00b, @princey-7258

“Hey, dad?”

“Yeah?” Roman’s dad turned to face him. Roman felt his whole body start to shake.

“You know how you said that…I could ask for anything from you? Since, uh- since you didn’t know what present to get me last time?”

His dad smiled in a way so normal it was disturbing. “Got an idea?”

“Yeah, uh…I want a canopy bed.”

His dad’s face dropped, and Roman could feel the anxiety and regret bloom through his chest. “You know why I can’t do that, Roman.”

“Please? I know it’s probably a bit much to replace my whole bed frame, but I could make my own canopy for cheaper! I’ve already looked at a bunch of ways online how, I just need you to buy the materials-”

“It’s a no.” Roman’s dad looked angry, and Roman would’ve done anything to run the other direction at that moment. To burst out the door and never come back. “Nice try, Roman, but I’m not stupid. Come back when you have a better idea.”

Roman blinked to fight back the tears. “…I’m sorry.”

“Go back to your room.”

Roman ran up the stairs as fast as he could, wishing more than anything that there was a lock on his door. Instead, Roman took his desk chair and propped it against the knob for some kind of security, curling into the corner of his room as he shook and tugged at his hair.

He tried to block out the knowledge of the security camera on his shelf, hidden well but not well enough, pointed right at his bed.

***

Several fast knocks came onto Roman’s bedroom door, waking him up with a jerk. He groggily pushed open the curtain in front of his head to grab his phone and look at the time. Six o’clock on the dot, it read. Ugh.

The knocking on the door didn’t stop, and Roman whined. “What?” He called out.

“Get dressed, we need to leave the house by 6:30.” He heard Logan call back.

“Fine, fine.” Roman pushed the curtains out of the way and practically rolled out of bed, grabbing the clothes he’d organized for himself the night before. He put on a pair of jeans with a white and red t-shirt, nothing fancy but fancy enough for a first day surrounded by strangers. He grabbed his backpack and put his phone and some earbuds in his pocket before heading downstairs to the kitchen.

“Morning, kiddo!” Patton chirped as he made breakfast, “Didja sleep well?”

“Yes, I did.” That was a lie. He had some strange dream where his dad was also there, and he only managed to calm down and fall back asleep an hour ago. He still couldn’t stop thinking about it, even if the dream was hazy now.

“Good to hear! Be ready by 6:30 so I can drive all of you to the school. Then once you get there, you can ask about your schedule at the office.” Patton laid down a plate of bagels with cream cheese and strawberries in front of Roman, so Roman began to eat.

Once he finished his breakfast, Roman rushed back upstairs to style his hair and brush his teeth before they had to leave. As he brushed his teeth, he stared at the shower to the left of him and sighed. He touched his hair, feeling the grease slick onto his fingers.

He really needed to shower. He hadn’t showered since he got here, and with how thick his hair was it was really starting to gross him out. He hated feeling greasy and grimy, but Roman hadn’t checked the bathroom for cameras yet and he refused to shower until he did. Though, he knew that was also just an excuse. Roman also felt too tired to take care of himself.

Just brush your teeth, he thought, they told you that if you can’t shower, at least brush your teeth. Greasy hair can be fixed, cavities are expensive.

He spit out the toothpaste into the sink and rinsed out his mouth. He grabbed some face wash and decided to use it as quickly as he could to hold back the gross feeling he felt. It would help him feel a little cleaner, at least. A little more presentable for the first day.

A loud bang came onto the door. “Roman, hurry up!” Virgil called out, “Some of us need to piss!”

“Just a second!” Roman vigorously splashed water on his face and quickly dried it with a towel, rushing out of the bathroom so that Virgil could run in. He sighed again, walking downstairs to wait on the couch until it was time to go.

“Alrighty, everyone got everything?” Patton eventually asked, making Roman crack open the eyes he didn’t even realize he closed. Patton smiled and clapped his hands together when his response was tired hums of agreement. “Perfect! To the car!”

All three kids bunched themselves together in the back of Patton’s car, Roman and Virgil at the window seats while poor Logan was squished in the middle. Roman squeezed his legs together so he could fit his backpack between Logan and himself, acting as a barrier so Logan couldn’t touch him. It was uncomfortable, but it was what Roman had to do.

“So, Roman, are you excited?” Patton asked, making Roman open his eyes again to look at Patton through the rearview mirror. Roman leaned his head against the window.

“More nervous. I’ve never been to a new school before.”

“Well, hopefully you can make lots of friends here! The school is pretty big, so there are certainly lots of options!” Patton laughed at himself and Roman closed his eyes again.

We’ll see about that.

Eventually, after a failed attempt of getting in some extra minutes of sleep before school, Roman felt the car come to a stop. He opened his eyes and looked out the window to see the front of the large school building, kids with smiling faces talking to each other as they walked inside while others looked tired yet excited. Roman wasn’t feeling it.

“Alright, kiddos, have fun!” Patton exclaimed, “Remember to check in with the office for your schedule, Roman!”

All the kids started to pile out of the car, grabbing their bags off the floor to rush inside. Once they were all out, Patton’s car drove away to head for work.

Roman looked at the building as Logan and Virgil walked inside. It seemed huge compared to his old school, where the county was much more rural than here. They still had twenty minutes until school started and kids were already swarming in from multiple entrances, both from the main entrance and other doors connected around the building. Roman walked inside and held his arms close to himself, desperate not to be shoved around by the other students. 

The office was fairly easy to find, considering there was a giant sign over the door in bold, white letters reading Office. Roman opened the door and stepped inside to get in line, feeling a little bit better that he wasn’t the only student having first day issues. The line shrank very quickly until it was Roman’s turn to ask questions, being faced with an old lady who could either be very sweet or the rudest person in the building. Roman could never tell.

“Uh, I’m a new kid at this school, and my guardian told me to come here to get my schedule?” Roman asked.

“Name.” Okay, well, rude it was, then.

“Roman Goldsberry.”

The desk worker didn’t respond, only typed something on her computer and didn’t make eye contact. “Next door to your left of that entrance is the counselor’s office. Your counselor is Mrs. Walters and she’ll call for you shortly.”

“Okay, thank you.” Roman had never scurried out of an office so quickly in his life. So much for a great first impression.

In the other office, Roman sat on a waiting chair and awkwardly glanced at all the college items they had hung up on the walls, waiting until his name would be called. The school day hasn’t even started yet, what’s taking them so long?

Roman drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair and waited. There was a lot of college stuff in this room. Granted, high school’s whole thing was trying to take you to college, his old school was the exact same. And he should really start thinking about that stuff since he’s a sophomore now. He only had two more years left after this, but it’s not like he could go anyway. He wasn’t even supposed to graduate high school, let alone college.

Besides, his dream was stupid anyway, so it didn’t matter.

“Roman Goldsberry?” A voice called out, taking Roman out of his thoughts. Roman stood up to follow the counselor into her office.

“I’m Mrs. Walters, and it’s nice to meet you Roman!” She said cheerily as she sat at her desk with Roman sitting right in front of her. “Your schedule was a bit last minute to pull together, but I tried my hardest based on your last school’s transcript and your test scores from last standardized testing. All I need is to schedule some extra electives for you. You have advanced English 12, advanced geometry, advanced biology, and world history. You can also choose Spanish 3 here if you wish to continue that. You also still need your gym credit, so you can take regular PE or strength training. I also have a list of other electives here if you want to look at that.”

“Yeah, I can look.” The counselor handed Roman a paper of all the electives organized by their subject. Well, Roman definitely wanted to continue Spanish, so that choice was easy. Strength training sounded like a fun way to do gym class with less dodgeballs to the face, but it was only a semester long, so he’d need to pick another semester class for the second half of the year. And he could join another painting or drawing class as his last elective, but he’d already taken those at his old school…

Roman gazed at the arts section of the packet, trying to find something he might like. His eyes lit up as he noticed the names of two classes: set design, which was a semester long and sounded magical, and something called sculpture. “What does the sculpture class teach?” Roman asked.

“It’s an art class that teaches you how to sculpt with different things. Like clay, wood, things like that. It’s a very hands-on class if you’re interested.”

Roman smiled. “I want that one then.”

The counselor typed something into her computer. “Have you chosen your other classes?”

“Yes, Spanish 3, set design, and strength training.”

“I’ll put you in strength training for this semester, but next semester you can join the set design class. I’ll email your elective teachers to inform them you’ll be joining their classes, but for now…” The counselor printed off a piece of paper and handed it to Roman. “This is your new schedule. Your first class is English with Ms. Fritz, and her class should be up on the third floor at room 316. Do you think you can make it there?”

“I can, thank you.”

The counselor smiled. “Have a nice first day.”

Roman walked off to head toward his first class, going up two flights of stairs and wandering across half the floor before he finally found his classroom. Thankfully, the halls were full of students desperately trying to locate their classrooms, so Roman didn’t feel as weird. He eventually stumbled upon the correct room number after checking multiple hallways and trying to follow their scattered number system. He looked at the door with a paper rabbit and a book with a phrase reading hop into a good book, and could guess immediately what type of teacher this would be.

Roman pushed open the half-cracked door and stepped inside.

The dozen kids who were already sitting stared at him when he walked in, but quickly resumed their conversations shortly after. Roman glanced at an empty seat off in the middle row near the other end of the class and moved to sit down in it. He looked around at the other kids off in their own worlds, with no one to get excited to see him and strike up a conversation. He was sitting alone in a class where it seemed like no one else was.

Roman got bored quickly with no one to talk to, drumming his fingers on the table and starting to daydream instead.

The long lost princess with the power to see into the future is forced to hide in protected wilderness, Roman thought, picking up from an old story idea he’s had for a while. Can’t have a teen novel without an orphan, so she lives with a guardian healer instead. Then, she needs a trusty companion to not only start her adventures, but to assist her alongside them. Perhaps he could be a peasant boy born with more magic power than the normal peasant has? It sure would be interesting. Or maybe, he’s not a trustworthy companion at all! What if he’s using the princess to promote his own selfish ideals? But as the story goes on, they actually become close friends and he has an intense internal conflict as he turns into the antagonist! Then maybe-

“Alright class, I think it’s been late enough for us to start!” Roman tried not to be aggravated at the teacher for interrupting him. The teacher stood at the front of the class with a wide smile. “I’m Ms. Fritz, but of course I’m sure a lot of you already know that since you had me last year. I teach all grade levels for advanced English, so if you keep down this path you might stick with me until graduation! Now normally, teachers will start their first day with class expectations, maybe a rubric or a supplies list, but I have a better idea! How about we travel across the class and try to get to know each other better? I can pass around a ball, and if you catch the ball, you have to share three fun facts about you!”

A sense of dread filled into Roman after hearing that. He usually didn’t mind games like this since it was a mindless way to pass the time, but he didn’t have any friends to pass him the ball anymore. Was he just going to sit there until the end? Sounded awkward, no thank you.

“I think,” Ms. Fritz said with her hand gripping her chin in thought, “I’m going to start with the new kid.”

Roman perked his head up as all the other kids turned to him. Well, that was unexpected.

Ms. Fritz tossed Roman the ball, and thankfully he caught it without making a fool of himself. The teacher smiled at him encouragingly as he stood up, looking around at all the kids waiting for him to talk. What should I even say?

“Can you say your name first?” Ms. Fritz asked.

“Well…I’m Roman. Uh, I like to paint, I’m half french, and…” Roman tried to think. What else was interesting about him? Something that shared a lot about him as a person?

Quickly, it dawned on him. One idea that I could possibly share, he thought. Well, it’s a bit invasive, but they’re all looking at me. So whatever.

He took a deep breath in. “…I’m a foster kid.”

When Roman admitted that, all the kids seemed to be more interested in him, leaning closer as their eyes widened. It was the first time Roman ever said it aloud, and it was so strange to hear coming from his mouth. He was a foster kid. That was an important part of his identity now.

He didn’t know how he felt about it.

“You’re half french?” Ms. Fritz pulled Roman out of his thoughts with that question. “Do you know any french?”

“I’m fluent.”

“That’s so cool! Can you say something in French for us?”

Roman seemed to think about it. “Quelque chose.”

Ms. Fritz blinked. “Well, I hope it was appropriate to say in a classroom. When did you move here, Roman?”

“Like…four days ago. Very recently.”

“You only got added to my roster last night, so I believe you! How about you pass the ball to another kid now?”

Roman looked around the room awkwardly before making eye contact with a random girl and tossing her the ball. He sat back down and only paid half his attention to what the other kids were saying. Well, at least he didn’t have to wait awkwardly anymore.

The rest of the class went like that. It seemed like a lot of these kids were students that Ms. Fritz had in the past, as well as being students that were also close friends with each other. They talked a lot and made lots of jokes with the teacher, and they seemed really close, which Roman understood since he was the same with his old group of advanced kids. The extra conversation dragged the game out longer than it probably should have been, but Roman didn’t mind. He didn’t want to actually work or anything anyway.

Eventually, the game ended, and the last kid tossed the ball to Ms. Fritz. “Alright,” she said, “That game dragged out longer than I thought it would, but that’s fine! The bells are shorter the first few days anyway. We only have a couple minutes left, so talk amongst yourself if you want, I don’t care. The assembly should be after your fourth bell for the sophomores, so don’t let your teachers forget!”

All the students turned around to talk to the kids around them. Roman simply watched their conversations with no one to talk to himself, realizing how all the new kids at his old school must have felt. It was like looking in from the outside, where no one else could see you. Roman was just…there.

“Hey,” the kid in front of him turned around to face Roman. Roman almost jumped at the sudden attention. “What’s your name again?”

“Oh, Roman. Roman Goldsberry.” Roman turned to sit properly in his seat and leaned in closer. This was a good start! He seems nice, maybe I can make a friend!

“Roman Goldsberry!” He mocked, turning to his other friends to laugh. “That’s such a pretentious name. And very American sounding, by the way. I thought you were French?”

Roman’s shoulders sagged. Nevermind. Eight in the morning on my first day, and apparently I’ve made an enemy before a friend. “I’m half french, not fully french.”

The kid turned to his friends and made a face at them before they all laughed. Roman felt his blood boil.

“So your dad is the American?” The kid asked.

“Yes.” Roman hoped his sharp tone would help them realize not to mess with him.

“Are you close with your dad?”

Roman froze, and the group of kids turned to each other to make faces at each other again. He really didn’t see what was so funny. Who asks a complete stranger a question like that out of the blue?

Before Roman could snap and tell the kid to mind his own damn business, another kid from the other side of the room scoffed. “Mitchell.”

“What? I’m just asking!”

The other kid opened their mouth to retaliate, but a loud and obnoxious bell went off before they could. Kids started to get up to rush to their next class, and Roman joined them. The sooner he got away from Mitchell (who had no right to bully Roman for his name when he was called Mitchell), the better.

Roman rushed out into the hall and hyper focused on the schedule in his hands. World history, room 203. The next floor down.

Roman was so occupied in trying to find a flight of stairs, he didn’t notice the kid trying to catch up to him.

***

The rest of Roman’s day wasn’t half as eventful as his first bell. History class had a chill teacher, which was nice, then next was his strength training class. His teacher was a little confused when he showed up but was happy to have Roman on board. He seemed very strict with his class rules though, and Roman hated that considering one of his rules was they had to change into gym clothes. Which meant Roman had to wear gym shorts.

…Well, guess he’d have to get used to wearing multiple pairs of boxers again.

Besides that, he also got lost on his way to sculpture, so he showed up ten minutes late telling this random teacher he was her student now. At least she didn’t seem bothered. After that, they all went to the sophomore assembly where they were told the school rules and updates, which Roman’s pretty sure he was the only kid who actually listened. Then, after the assembly, Roman went to the cafeteria to eat a lunch that Patton packed him. He hadn’t actually brought a packed lunch to school in years, so the sentiment was…strange.

Not that Roman would complain about an edible lunch, though.

Roman looked around the cafeteria for a place to sit. The place was starting to become crowded as more students got out of line for buying lunch, so Roman needed to find a spot fast. It’d be easier if he made a friend to sit with, but after the morning Mitchell incident, Roman hadn’t cared to try again in his other classes.

That’s when Roman spotted him. A kid with thick glasses eating a fruit cup as he worked on some papers next to him, completely ignoring the world to finish some homework. Roman wasn’t exactly close with his foster brothers, but hey, maybe Logan could prove himself a little useful. He had to be lonely too, right?

Roman took his chance and sat across from Logan. Logan didn’t look up from his papers. “Hey there, nerd!”

Logan glanced an eye toward Roman. He focused back on his work. “Hello.”

“How’s your first day of high school going?”

It took Logan a solid minute before he responded. “It’s going alright. I got unlucky with a teacher of mine, who already gave us a homework packet for the week, so I’m trying to get a head start on it.”

“Really? What teacher?”

“Mr. Owens, he’s the more strict teacher of the two that teach medical technology.”

Roman’s eyes widened. “Medical technology? That’s a class here?”

“Yes. I had to do a lot of things last year to get into it, however. It’s part of the intensive medical learning path. However, the extra work is necessary.”

“…Right. What other classes are you in?”

“Advanced biology, advanced geometry, advanced English, medical tech as I just mentioned, German 2, health, and painting.”

Roman tilted his head to the side. “Wait, I thought most of those were sophomore classes?”

“And I took freshman classes my eighth grade year. Your point?”

Roman blinked. “…Fair enough.”

Roman brought out his own sandwich and ate it in awkward silence. Logan seemed so focused on his paper that he wasn’t saying a word, and trying to spark conversation with him when he was like this was next to impossible. He felt like he was intruding by sitting next to Logan, the air feeling thick for a reason Roman couldn’t quite place. Once he finished his sandwich, Roman had enough.

“I think…” Roman said, “I’m going to sit…somewhere else.”

Logan didn’t react. “Alright.”

Roman stood up and awkwardly shuffled to an empty spot at a table on the other side of the cafeteria, placing down his lunch box and trying again. Well, he thought as he opened up a cheese stick wrapper, better get used to being alone, then.

“Hey, excuse me?”

Roman looked up at the voice while he was mid-bite. It was the same kid who scolded Mitchell back in his English class, tired circles under their eyes and a gray sweater on despite it being August. Though, Roman had been freezing in most of his classes today, so maybe this person had the right idea.

“Oh- I’m sorry, were you sitting here?” Roman asked.

“No, you’re fine, I just…” The kid looked side to side anxiously. “…Mind if I sit with you?”

“…Oh! No, I don’t mind at all.”

The kid smiled and set their lunchtray across from Roman. “Thanks. I’m Elliott by the way, they/them pronouns.”

Roman’s brain took a minute to process what they meant. “Uh, hello! I’m Roman…he/him?”

Elliott seemed to get happier when he said that. “Nice to meet you. How’s your first day been so far? Besides for you-know-who this morning.”

Roman laughed. “Well, aside from that uncalled for mess, it’s been quite normal. I got lost a few times, but that’s not new for me. My teachers seem quite alright so far.”

“That’s good to hear. We have a lot of good teachers, I think, unless they teach calculus, then they have some serious issues. But so long as you don’t act like an idiot it’s easy to get past those teachers.”

“I’ll keep that in mind! Hopefully I stay on this hot streak, though.” Roman took out a water bottle from his lunch and started to drink it. “But it’s the students I’m more worried about. They all seem so off on their own. Or just outright rude like that guy this morning.”

Elliott groaned, leaning his head on his hand and slouching. “I’m really sorry about him. He can be a huge jerk for no reason. I think he’s just itching for a fight.”

“You seem to know him quite well. Old friend or something?” Roman asked.

Elliott groaned again. “…He’s my ex.”

“…No offense to your type or anything, but…ew.”

“Oh no, yeah, dating him was definitely an ew,” Elliot sighed. “We broke up like, four times in the span of a year and a half. It was a mess. Eventually, over the summer I broke up with him for good. I think he’s still upset about that and taking it out on the first easy target he finds. That, and he’s a jerk.”

“Well, he’ll soon learn I’m not one to be described as an easy target.” Roman gave a cocky smile and posed.

The bell sounded off again, and all the students stood up from their tables and started to swarm the trash cans and cafeteria exits. Roman and Elliott gave each other a look as they also stood up.

“So…what class do you have next?” Elliott asked nervously.

“Let’s see…” Roman pulled out the schedule from his pocket and looked at it. “Advanced biology with Mr. Weber.”

Elliott’s eyes lit up. “Me too! Uh…wanna walk together then? I can show you where it is.”

Roman smiled. “Of course!”

The two kids headed down the stairs, talking more and laughing long after they sat down in the class and the bell rang. Roman continued to whisper to Elliott during class until the teacher gave them both a warning glance, shutting their mouths but smiling at each other.

Even as Roman tried to pay attention, he felt a weight lift from his chest.

He’d obtained a friend after all!

***

The entire bus drive home, Roman spent it texting Elliott’s number that they’d given him right after biology ended. He talked about his last two classes and listened to Elliott ramble about his bad luck with classmates this year, grinning to himself with his eyes glued to his screen until his stop came. Virgil banged his fist on Roman’s seat to get his attention, making him jump and stand up to get off with Virgil and Logan.

During the walk home, no one said anything. Roman was off in his own world and Virgil just looked tired, with Logan staring intently at his own shoes as he walked. Virgil unlocked the door for them all to come inside, and they all branched off into their different directions. Virgil got a snack from the kitchen while Roman and Logan ran up to their rooms.

Roman spent a lot of his time in his room now that he’d gotten the curtains around his bed. Lying there was a lot softer than hiding on the bathroom floor with his legs propped up, and Roman was still confused as to how he managed to get away with installing this. He’d have to make sure Patton never entered his room again in case he planned to rip the curtains off their hooks.

He’d have to make a plan to effectively keep him out.

But for now, Roman actually needed to talk to Patton as soon as possible. He needed to ask for gym clothes, since that was the only thing Roman still needed to get for class, and he wanted to get it over with so Roman wouldn’t need to keep worrying about it. He was almost certain Patton had come home half an hour ago, but Roman just ignored him and stayed in his room. But he had to take advantage of the fact that he was remembering to ask for the clothes, so there was no time like the present to go find him.

Roman hopped out of bed and exited his room, making his way downstairs to the living room. He figured Patton would be either watching TV or doing something in the kitchen, but when Roman looked around, he didn’t see him anywhere. Virgil was sprawled across the couch on his phone, but no one else was around. Roman put his hands on his hips.

“Where’s Patton?” He asked Virgil.

Virgil didn’t look up. “Upstairs. In his room I think.”

Roman groaned and stomped back upstairs. He hated going into an adult’s room, so he instead opened the door and poked his head in so he wouldn’t have to step inside. But before he could get a word out to Patton, Roman stopped himself.

Patton was sitting on his bed with the lights dimmed, his back resting in the headboard, but what shocked Roman was that Logan was there also. He had his face hidden in Patton’s neck as Patton rubbed his back and played with his hair, holding him tight to his chest while Logan sniffled. Roman had never seen Logan emote before, so watching him cry was…disturbing. Roman wanted to run over and rip Logan from Patton to protect him.

Patton looked at Roman in the doorway and smiled. “You gotta remember to knock before entering, kiddo. What do you need?”

Roman forgot the main reason he came here. “Is Logan okay?”

Patton looked down at Logan and whispered something in his ear. Whatever Patton said, Logan agreed with a quiet nod of his head. Patton rubbed at Logan’s neck in a way that made Roman’s skin crawl as Patton began to speak. “He’ll be okay, kiddo. He’s just a little overwhelmed from school today. Do you need anything?”

Roman took a step inside Patton’s bedroom. It made his whole body shift into fight or flight, but he couldn’t leave Logan alone with him in good conscience. “I just wanted to say I need to buy gym clothes by next Wednesday. I’m in a strength training class this semester.”

Patton smiled. “That’s fine, we can go shopping this weekend.”

Roman looked down at the floor. “Well…I was more thinking, like…I go into the store while you wait in the car.”

Patton raised an eyebrow at him. “I need to buy the clothes, kiddo.”

“You can just give me the money. I’ll stay within the budget and give you any left over, so…please?”

Patton’s face dropped a little, but he didn’t get angry, so Roman considered that a win. “Sure, kiddo. We’ll do that Sunday.”

Even after the conversation seemed to end, Roman still stood near the door, shifting on his feet awkwardly. Patton shifted his eyes between Logan and Roman as if he was analyzing both of their mental states, but Roman’s throat felt stuck as he tried to bring out the words he wanted to say. He was so scared, but he couldn’t force himself to ask the question he knew he needed to ask now. Yet his feet refused to make a run for it out the door despite his fear.

“Do you need something else, kiddo?” Patton lightly prompted. Roman attempted to swallow the rock he felt in his throat.

“Can I…Can I stay with you and Logan?” He hated it, but he had to do it. He didn’t know what Patton would try when Logan was vulnerable.

Patton looked down at Logan, and Logan nodded. Patton turned to smile again. “You can if you want, Logan doesn’t mind.”

Roman carefully walked to the other side of the bed, sitting as far as possible from Patton but keeping his eyes glued to Logan. He knew he wasn’t helping much, not saying a word and not even being close, but it was something Roman had to do. Just because him and Logan weren’t close didn’t mean he’d leave him in danger. Even if Roman felt stuck in his head and couldn’t find the power to move his arms.

Roman sat there for a while, watching Logan’s chest rise as Patton rubbed his back. It felt like ages before Logan’s chest slowed and he fell asleep on top of Patton, somehow not caring at all about being asleep in Patton’s presence. Roman’s heart ached for him. He was too trusting and innocent for his own good.

“I gotta do some chores,” Patton whispered, “So I’m gonna tuck him in and let him nap. Do you still wanna stay with him?”

Roman nodded, not being able to get the words out himself. He felt stuck as Patton lifted Logan up gently, petting his hair to soothe him when he stirred. Roman helped by tugging the covers back from his end of the bed so that Patton could tuck him in and let go of him sooner, his hand on the back of Logan’s leg making Roman anxious. Patton tucked Logan under the covers and watched his reaction. After a few seconds, Patton grabbed a squishy stuffed frog from his bedside table, handing it to Logan who curled around it in his sleep. It’d be cute if Roman wasn’t so worried.

“Tell me if anything happens, okay kiddo?” Patton said right as he was halfway out the bedroom door. Roman nodded, only finally relaxing after Patton left and slowly closed the door. 

Roman immediately ran over to lock it. He didn’t have his security bar, but this would be good enough. Hopefully Patton wouldn’t test anything when he knew Roman would be by Logan’s side.

Despite all of Roman’s worries, Logan slept peacefully on the bed. He didn’t shift or seem distressed at all, just snuggling closer to Patton’s stuffed frog and resting. Logan was calm.

Roman sat on the floor to block the door and watched to make sure no one took that away from him.

[emixion]

School Dance - Day 25 - Maribat March

here’s some fluff after making you all cry yesterday. @maribatmarch-2k21 ao3 link To say that Mme Bustier’s class was excited was an understatement. The students were absolutely ecstatic.

Their class trip to Gotham and tour of Gotham Academy led to an invitation to the school’s upcoming dance while they visited. A school dance at Gotham Academy was no laughing matter, and everyone in Bustier’s class knew it. They’d all packed their very best clothes and accessories, eager to fit in at the fancy affair.

Marinette was excited to wear the new dress she’d designed, but that was about it.

Don’t get her wrong, she loved visiting Gotham and she loved the dress that she made, a baby pink ruffled gown with her signature floral design embroidered on the bodice, but she didn’t anticipate having much fun at this dance.

She didn’t know anyone in Gotham, and her whole class was still enamored by Lila, they barely had any time for her. The only person not hanging onto the liar’s every word was Chloe, and she wasn’t exactly the company Marinette wanted to keep.

Nevertheless, when the night of the dance arrived, Marinette put her dress on and got ready alone.

The other girls were all getting ready together, but she really didn’t want to be around Lila. Besides, she was sure she wasn’t welcome after Lila had tried to frame her for spilling her coffee the other day.

After getting dressed, she had Tikki help her put her hair in a low messy bun, letting a few wavy locks of midnight hair stick around to frame her face.

She applied her makeup, a neutral brown smokey eye and peachy pink lip gloss, as well as her accessories, a rose gold headband and a bracelet to match.

After slipping on her heels, she was ready to go.

Tikki smiled at her chosen as she stood before her.

“Oh, Marinette! You look so beautiful! And so grown up!” The tiny goddess wiped a small tear from her eye.

Marinette giggled, pulling Tikki close to nuzzle her against her cheek. “Thank you, Tikki. I hope tonight goes well.”

“Anything can happen in a new city. Keep an open mind tonight!” Tikki advised.

“Thanks, I will.” Marinette replied, opening her small cross body for Tikki to fly into.

With a sigh, she turned off the light and left her hotel room.

The hotel lobby was full of hustle and bustle as the students of Francis Dupont chattered excitedly about the dance, all dressed in their very best.

Marinette stayed towards the back and kept to herself, waiting patiently for the transportation to arrive.

Suddenly, yells of surprise rang out from her classmates as a stretch limo pulled up in front of the hotel.

Marinette strained a bit to see it, shocked as her class that an actual limo was picking them up instead of a bus.

“Courtesy of the Waynes.” The driver announced as the students stepped into the limo.

“I can’t believe the Waynes did this for us!”

“That’s so cool!”

“We get to ride in a limo?”

Marinette got in last, wondering who these Waynes were that everyone was talking about.

-

The hall rented for the dance was, in a word, big.

It was decorated to the nines and full of Gotham Academy students, all dressed for the occasion.

Music was already playing and tables were already full of refreshments.

The ecstatic class practically skipped into the hall, all except Marinette.

The miraculous wielder stuck behind, slowly walking in as opposed to her eager peers. She was nervous to be here.

While the rest of her friends stuck close to Lila or danced with their partners, Marinette stayed at one of the tables on the outer edge of the hall, sitting by herself.

She smiled as she watched Nino spin Alya around as the couple laughed. She was glad at least they were having fun.

She was so focused on watching her friends, she didn’t notice the boy walking up to her until he sat down in the chair next to her.

“Excuse me?” The boy called, nearly startling her. She whipped her head over to look at him. He had dark hair, tan skin and the greenest eyes she’d ever seen.

“Yes?” Her voice was a little hoarse as it came out. Clearly she wasn’t expecting to use it.

“I normally don’t approach strangers, but it didn’t sit right with me to watch you sit here all alone. May I keep you company?” The boy asked. Marinette blinked at him.

“Oh, um, sure!” She gave him a smile. “That’s very nice of you. I’m Marinette.” She offered her hand for a shake.

“Damian.” He introduced himself, taking her offered hand and pulling it to his lips. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Y-you too!” She squeaked, her face tinting pink. Damian smiled at her.

“May I ask what a beautiful young lady like yourself is doing by herself at a dance?” He asked, gently putting her hand down.

“Oh, well…” Marinette trailed off, glancing downward. “Um, my class and I aren’t as close as we used to be, and most of my friends are with their partners, so I didn’t want to bother them.”

Damian frowned. “I’m sure you wouldn’t be bothering them if you are their friend, but I understand wanting to sit away from all of the action.”

“Are you not a fan of dances?” She asked.

“More the crowd. I try not to draw too much attention to myself. I find it unamusing.” His face twisted in distaste.

Marinette giggled. “I get that. I try to stay under the radar too.”

“Well, I’m glad I decided to stick to the shadows tonight. I got to meet you.” His face softened when he looked back at her.

Marinette flushed deeper, bowing her head shyly. “Yeah, I-I’m glad I did too.”

The two spent a while talking to each other, staying in their own bubble away from the noise of their peers. Eventually they walked over to the refreshments to get themselves some punch and continued to talk over there.

“What’s your favorite piece that you’ve designed?” Damian asked, continuing their conversation about hobbies.

Marinette pointed sheepishly as her gown.

Damian’s eyes widened. “You made this?”

She nodded. “From scratch.”

“That is..quite impressive.” He mused, admiring the dress for the millionth time that night. “My brother would lose his mind over you. He is always keeping track of up and coming designers.”

“Oh yeah?” She smiled. “I’d love to meet him sometime. Is he your only brother?”

Damian snorted. “Hardly. I have three brothers and a sister. And on top of that, two pseudo sisters and a pseudo brother.”

“Wow,” Marinette laughed. “That’s such a big family.”

“Tell me about it.” Damian muttered. “Do you have any siblings?”

She shook her head. “No, just me. I’d love to have some, though. You’re very lucky.”

“You haven’t tried living with them, Angel.”

She laughed again, taking a small sip of punch.

She’d nearly finished her cup when the music slowed down and the students on the dance floor either stepped back or grabbed partners to dance with.

Marinette watched as Nino and Alya, Juleka and Rose, and Ivan and Mylene all paired up on the floor.

“Marinette,” Damian’s voice pulled her attention back.

“Yes?”

He extended his hand to her. “May I have this dance?”

Marinette stared at him a moment, a smile slowly working its way to her face. “I would love to.” And with that she set down her cup and took the boy’s hand, letting him lead her to the dance floor.

Once on the floor, Damian placed his free hand on her waist, his other still grasping hers. Marinette moved her free hand to his shoulder.

“I might step on your feet.” She whispered guiltily. Damian chuckled softly.

“That’s fine by me.” He pulled her a bit closer.

Unbeknownst to the pair, who were too wrapped up in each other, they had formed quite an audience.

“Is that Marinette with Damian Wayne..?”

“Oh my gosh, look at the way he’s looking at her.”

“The Ice Prince has a girlfriend?”

“Who is that girl? Her dress is stunning.”

Whispers from both of their peers filled the hall, as the other couples stepped back to watch Damian and Marinette.

“You’re beautiful.” Damian murmured, momentarily moving his hand from her waist to brush her bangs out of her eyes.

Marinette gazed back at him, completely captivated. “Thank you.” She breathed.

The slow song played its final cords and the tempo sped up again.

Spell broken, Marinette finally noticed all of the staring, looking around self consciously. “Damian..?” She said his name cautiously.

“C’mon.” Damian said, taking her hand and leading her off the dance floor.

“Why were they staring at us?” She asked once they were in a quieter part of the hall. Damian sighed.

“Because I’m a Wayne.” His voice sounded dejected.

“A..Wayne?” She asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Yes, as in Bruce Wayne’s son, The CEO of Wayne Enterprises? The biggest sponsor of Gotham Academy? Any of that sound familiar?”

Marinette just shook her head.

Damian stared at her for a long moment before he began to chuckle.

“Wait, so, you don’t know who I am?” He asked.

She shook her head again, shrugging. “Sorry?”

“No, no, don’t be.” He quickly took her hands. “I just thought that was the only reason you kept my company tonight. Because of who my family is.”

“Of course not.” She said softly, squeezing his hands in her own. “I spent all this time with you because I like you…” Her voice went quiet and shy near the end.

“I like you, too..” He murmured, squeezing her hands back. “Would you, erm, like to do something while you’re here? Maybe on your free day?”

Marinette smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I would be glad to.”

-

Once the dance was over and the pair bid farewell for the night, Marinette made her way out front to the waiting limo.

Her class, suddenly having more than enough time for her, swarmed her as she approached, asking her various questions about Damian.

Marinette just grinned and brushed them off.

[katsukikitten]

A harem collab in which we go to a party with our v precious hero 18+ Smut boooiiii

Sitting across from him never did get easier. As much as you told yourself it would. 

If anything it got harder and harder to share the same room as him, let alone air. 

But you were lucky enough, or unlucky enough, to join the agency when you did and to be partnered with your big time crush FatGum. Although you idolized him you were sure he didn't remember you. 

And how could he? He saved countless people a day so it should be no surprise that he had no idea who you were on your first day. Still, it stung. 

And it shouldn't still sting or come to a surprise when he sets down a flyer on your desk. A huge smile on his chubby cheeks as he taps the sheet of paper.

"Can you believe it?! The agency is throwing a new year's eve party!" He practically gushes, lingering by your desk with his intoxicating smile. He rummages in his brown bag, setting breakfast onto your desk careful to avoid getting grease stains on the flyer as if you'd hang it up one day instead of shoving it into the trash. 

"They have one every year." You shrug, thanking him for the breakfast but tossing the paper into the trash can. His smile never waivers as he pulls it from the fresh bin, returning it to the smooth wooden top. 

"Yea but not at a fancy hotel and never an open bar! We should go!" His eyes crinkle in the corners and your heart hammers in your chest. 

Little do you know he prays to the Gods you don't say no. 

"I dont know, it's such short notice. Like next week ain't it?." At least it wasn't a no. He smiles, thinking of your competative behavior. 

"Oh I see what it is." He takes the sheet from your desk, waltzing to his own, "You're scared."

"Tch, scared of what?" You hiss, snatching for the paper. 

"Scared I'll out drink you!" He laughs at your cute scowl as you size him up. His metabolism was insane, and with him being in his larger state you might not be able to win. 

But he didn't have to know that. 

"You fucking wish you could out drink me! Remember the last party we went to? You showed your age and could barely stand!"

"Oi! I was much thinner then. I think luck is on my side this time." He slaps his belly and you smile. A genuine laugh fills the room causing Taishiro's heart to clench. 

"Yea, yea." You wipe away a tear, "We'll see." 

The day drags on and on, turning into a week of you glancing his way. Making sure he wasn't gaining any extra weight as he brought you your normal breakfast daily. 

It wasn't until the day of the party did you gain the advantage, a fight almost turned wrong and Taishiro had to use majority of that stored fat for a deadly punch to stop the villain from terrorizing the city. 

Still you'd never want this type of advantage just for a stupid drinking contest. Although he was not at his largest, he still had a considerable "dad bod" going on. 

"I still can't believe they had a tux in this size so late!" Taishiro shouts into the locker room at the agency, adjusting his tie as he waits for you. Meanwhile nerves eat you alive as you stare into your reflection, wondering if this dress fit okay, smoothing the fabric over your stomach self consciously. 

"You okay in there? We're gonna be late." He calls softly, hoping you aren't having second thoughts about going with someone like him. 

"Coming!" You call back, glancing at your deep amber dress a final time before rushing into the hall. 

"I was just thinking you were going to forfeit and then I-" Words die in his throat and he drinks you in. Beautifully complimented by the shape and color of your dress as he mouth hangs agape. 

"Wow. You look…" 

"Tai, I know, I look...different." 

"Amazing, perfect, breathtaking." He gives you a pointed look, "Which is no different than how you normally look." 

Heat creeps up the back of your neck and you're thankful he misses your flustered expression. The walk to the hotel and the brisk cold air gives you time to not only cool off but think.

Really reflect on the year, this horribly rotten, all bad luck year. Reminding you of all the times you had failed but also reminding you of all the opportunities you had missed. And not opportunities in the sense of promotions or saving people but opportunities to get closer with a certain somebody. 

You glance up at him and he glances down at you, smiling in a way that sets your skin on fire and yet it makes you feel at ease. 

Slowly you were coming to hate it. 

"I'm excited that they decided to invite some smaller agencies. Means I can introduce you to some of the kids I interned. Well I guess they are adults now huh." He looks nostalgic, sad even as he stares into space. Opening the door to the large hotel and it the look sticks with him until he is just before the party doors. 

"Ready?" 

"As ready as I'll ever be." You huff as he places his hand on the small of your back, bringing you into the rented ballroom. Lights and sounds consume your sense as music dances around light conversation. You're beginning to wonder if a drinking contest was such a good idea that is before you see the CEO of your agency totally shit faced. You glanced down at your watch, it was only 8pm. 

Taishiro guides you around the room with a "starter" drink, introducing you to old and new faces. Beaming with pride as he introduces you as his partner and not his sidekick like other heroes had done in the past. You hated how much your heart raced. 

"And this is Kirishima! He was one of my best and most memorable! Kids got guts and heart in spades!" He slaps Kirishima on the back and the young man slumps forward with a sharp toothed smile. 

"Aw come on, I wasn't that great…" He scratches the back of his head. 

"I heard that's when you became 'unbreakable'! I think that's so cool!" You gush over the young hero complimenting him to no end. 

"Stop. You'll give me a big head." He smiles, blushing furiously before his eyes wander to the closeness of the two of you and then they settle on your drinks, "You're not trying to out drink the infamous FatGum are you?" 

You laugh loudly before leaning in close as if to share a secret. 

"Oh, yes and I plan to kick his ass." 

Kirishima returns your smile and stage whispers 

"Taishiro-sama has lost a good bit of weight. I believe in you!" He winks before someone across the room calls for him, "Call me when you get really started!!" 

Two hours pass and you find yourself sitting across from your partner with his sleeves rolled up. Showcasing those deadly forearms as he slams back another shot. Kirishima keeps tally on hotel stationary and announces the number of shots. 

"You'll have to take five to be in the lead! You'll have two minutes to decide to forfeit or-" But before he can finish you're grabbing for one of the prefilled shot glasses. 

"Kanpai!" You shout, slinging them down, ignoring how the room is spinning and how bright the light reflects off of the table full of empty shot glasses. 

Kirishima's eyes widen as you down an extra shot for good measure, tallying the booze count with worry.

"Fat hero." He says, almost gritting his teeth, "You'll have to take seven to be in the lead." 

The large hero leans on his forearms on the table, the alcohol he's had had mostly been processed and maybe your figured that out. That he was starting to lose his edge so he takes you up on the challenge knocking back the several shots as if they were water. You're eager to gulp down a few more praying it drowns out your feelings for the sexy man across from you, instead he lets his broad hand hover over the shot glasses. Silently giving you a reprieve and noticing just how much you're sweating, how blown your pupils are. 

"Let's give it a minute shall we?" He smiles as you drown in his golden eyes. Biting at your lower lip and with a defiant grip you swallow down a final shot.

"Your turn." You focus hard to make sure your words didn't slur, not wanting this feeling or night to end. He snorts, shaking his head wishing you acted out any other time than this. 

"I forfeit." He places his hands up and you glare at him as you wonder if he did it on purpose. Before you have the time to accuse the crowd erupts into a deafening cheer, the room lags as you try to place names with faces as they come close to congratulate you. As more and more people crowd you, the hotter the room feels. Politely you excuse yourself to an enclave balcony closing the doors tightly behind you as you gulp down air, desperate to cool off and douse the desire that burns hot in your belly seeping to your core. 

"Fuck." You rake your nails through your hair as a hit of icy air skates along your skin leaving goose flesh in its wake. A steady warmth comes from behind you, voice deep as he speaks softly. You can tell he's using the same tone he uses on victims, trying not to startle them with his size. 

Little did he know how much you loved how much bigger he was. A safe haven, protection embodied. 

"Ready to go home?"

"No I'm fine! Perfectly fine." He sucks his teeth at your stubborn reply, leaning in close with his hands in the pockets of his tux. 

"You look flushed...you seem out of it." 

"I'm totally of sound mind!" A bark to which he laughs, giving in to the liquid courage as his large hand tilts your chin towards him. Flirting with a line he swore he'd never cross. 

"Yea, if you're so sound of mind, would you let me do this?" He asks, leaning closer, lips almost brushing yours. Your breath mingles with his in little puffs of fog agaisnt the cool air and suddenly you're burning again. 

From the inside out.

His lips touch yours, gently, passive at first and if he's trying to fight against his urges. Slowly he breaks away, amber eyes glued to your mouth before he sighs. Hoping he didn't just fuck everything up. 

In an instant you're drawing him back to you, hands in his golden wheat hair and your fingers weave through the strands. Mouth opening and demanding more as his large hands grip onto your ribcage as if you'd float away. 

And maybe you would, you felt like you could. 

Frantically your hands demand more, exploring up his shirt, touching across his stomach and digging your nails down his back. His own hands follow suit, gripping at your ass and tits, memorizing every luscious curve until he is drunk off of you and you only. You moan into his mouth and with that he loses all restraint. 

Shoving you against the harsh brick building, fisting your hair to tilt your head for better access, exploring your mouth with his well skilled wet muscle. Hands trailing beneath your dress to find your dress, squeezing at your thick thighs and when you moan in approval he moves higher and higher still until his fingers brush against the damp fabric. This time it is his turn to groan as he presses his hardened cock against you, your hips move to grind against his large fingers. 

"Please Tai" It is soft, breathy, sending him into a frenzy as he gives you exactly what you want. Letting his fingers slip beneath the fabric to gather the slick between your folds, gently rubbing against your throbbing clit. You arch against his touch, exposing your neck to him, he leans over and bites. Placing kisses along your throat, making sure to be careful enough to avoid marks before his hazed brain causes him to speak. 

To confess. 

"Do you know how long I've wanted to do this?" He asks, plunging his fingers into your tight heat, stretching you as you mewl, "Ever since I first laid eyes on you. Kamisama you were perfect. And tonight. Fuck baby. Wearing my eye color for all to see. You want people to think you're mine?" 

"Yes, Taishiro. I want people to think I'm yours." You moan, fucking yourself on his fingers before he takes over. Setting a quick pace before he curls his thick fingers just right, in an instant you're creaming against his digits. Crying out as he overstimulates you before he covers your mouth with his broad hand, reminding you just how much he dwarfs you.  

It makes you cum again and again and he corners you against the wall. Cock twitching as he laps up your sinful faces with a gluttonous appetite. 

"Please Tai, pleeeasse." 

"What's wrong baby? My fingers not enough?" His cocky tone drives you mad and your hips buck against his touch before he withdraws from your heat. Panting he levels his gaze yo you. 

"Is this what you want?" Peppering you with kisses as if you could deny him and his godly hands.

"Don't make me beg Tai…" You rasp, he gives a devilish smile. 

"Then I won't." His hands slink up your dress, gathering it at your waist as on skillful finger pulls the overly damp underwear away from your soaking sex. He frees himself and you swallow, not realizing just how large he was, for a moment you worry you won't be able to take him. 

"I'll be gentle." He coos, easing himself in an inch at a time as your stretch around his thick cock. Pussy fluttering as it adjusts to his size, he gathers your legs to his sides, squeezing your hips to keep from rutting into you roughly. He pistons his hips slowly, watching your face contort as he angles himself just right. Sensual thrusts have your legs and pussy squeezing him so deliciously tight. Still he worries he's going to hurt you.

"You okay?" Alcohol lingers on his breath and you swallow him whole with a kiss. Moaning into his mouth softly as he rocks you into one of your most intense orgasms to date. It's a slow build, undeniably intoxicating as his steady pace hits your spongy soft spot and his pelvis rubs against your clit. The coil in your stomach snaps and your body clamps onto the behemoth of a man tightly, stars dot your vision as he continues to fuck you through it. 

"God you're so beautiful ya know? So responsive to my touch. Taking me so well baby." He purrs against your ear, "Makes me want to keep this pace all night." 

He keeps true to his promise, bringing you to new heights at the steadiest of paces, causing you to lose count of how many times you've cum on his length. Pussy attempting to milk him dry as he palm swallows your screams. He looks at your features, your makeup running from delirious tears, mouth fallen opened in a propetial O as your hair clings to your skin. 

"Kamisama you're like art." He kisses your quickened pulse, "Ready for me to fill you love? You're squeezing me so tight…" 

He groans and all you can think of his him and the searing pleasure that courses through your veins to settle in your over sensitive heat. His cock twitches and you want nothing more than to be stuffed full of the Fat Hero's fat cock and his cum.  But words are lost in your hoarse throat and all you can do is nod, moaning his name as if it were a prayer. It's all the encouragement he needs, quickening his pace as the crowd inside grows louder. Counting down from 10. 

It's all lost to you and his hips snap against you, the brick scraping against your shoulders as his grip on you becomes so tight you're sure you'll bruise. Your body hyper aware of every little sensation as you drown in pleasure and warm amber sun, he groans, painting your walls in hot ropes of cum, your vision spots as your body arches to meet him as your spams a final time while his lips crash to yours. 

All the while fireworks erupt over head, bringing in the new year on a literal high note. 

He huffs, sweating as he looks at you, still buried to the hilt. Swiping his thumb over your cheek and running mascara before he breathes out so gently. 

"Happy new year baby." 

[tinyboxxtink]

“God I love Weddings!”

Another entry for @storiesofsvu bingo!

I’m hoping “hooking up at a wedding” counts as “Wedding Date”....I mean, what’s more of a date than that? 😉

Warning: Smut. Duh. ☺️

You were a bridesmaid at Chloe, your closest girlfriends' wedding. You didn't know a lot about her husband, just that he was a fancy lawyer. But when you and your friends walked into the groom's room to meet the groomsmen, you were shocked to see just how good looking his friends were. One in particular. His brown hair was slicked back, gorgeous green eyes, and he was definitely working the groomsmen suits better than the other two duds. 

"Dibs" you whispered to your friends.

"Which one?" Chloe leaned in, having heard you.

'That one" you pointed to the man.

"Ah good choice," she smiled at you. Then in a very LOUD voice she announced to the best man.

"Hey Brad, Y/N calls dibs on Rafael!!!"

"Oh my god what is WRONG with you?!" You hissed, grabbing her arm as the rest of the bridal party giggled and taunted you. 

Rafael immediately turned and looked straight at you, his eyes brightened and a panty dropping smile crawled across his lips. He walked over to your group, eyeing you up and down.

"So is that how this works? You ladies just decide which one of us you 'want', like picking lobsters at a restaurant?" 

"Like you and your buddies weren't over there doing the same damn thing," you raised an eyebrow, making him laugh in amusement. 

"I like you," he extended his hand, "Rafael Barba,". 

"Y/N" you took his hand and gently shook it, trying not to swoon right there. 

"Alright ladies and gents, I will see you at the altar!" Chloe waved and walked out of the room, leaving you and your friends to get acquainted with your escorts.

"So, how do you know the groom?" You hated making small talk. 

"We went to law school together," He shrugged.

"Oh so you're a lawyer too?"

“...I’m the ADA,”  He looked at you with a dumbfounded stare, clearly shocked you didn’t know who he was.

“...Am I supposed to know what that is?” You looked back in confusion.

“The Assistant District Attorney,” 

“...Oh so you’re ‘big shot’  lawyer,” You smirked. 

“Something like that,” He smirked back. “And you?” 

“Oh Chloe and I grew up together,” 

“Oh, another Upper East Side princess? Lovely,” He rolled his eyes. 

“Excuse you?” You crossed your arms. “I also have a master’s from NYU, Mr. Business,” 

“In what, fashion marketing?” He gave you a tongued smile. He liked to push buttons; you were kind of loving it.

“No, in makeup chemistry,” You flipped your hair, drawing a hearty laugh from Rafael. “In journalism,” You added, making sure he knew you were kidding. 

“Nice, so a smart princess,” 

“Well I’m not gonna waste time waiting on a prince,” 

“Good,” He smirked. 

Before you could say anything else, the wedding coordinator was calling for all the “couples” to line up, ready to enter the chapel. 

“Shall we?” He presented his arm to you. 

“We shall,” You wrapped your own arm around him with a smile. 

You walked down the aisle arm in arm, and continued to stare at each other throughout the entire ceremony. You tried desperately to focus on Chloe, but Rafael’s smolder was too hard to resist. 

As the music played and the bride and groom skipped down the aisle in marital bliss, Rafael took your arm once again.

“Nice job keeping your eyes on your ‘best friend’,” He teased.

“Yeah I could say the same thing!” You teased back, nudging him with your elbow.

“I couldn’t help it, your cha chas are hanging out,” He half laughed, making you hit him harder. 

“They are NOT!” You hissed, self consciously pulling up your dress. You couldn’t help it if your boobs were not really made to be encased in clothes. 

“Oh ok, yeah they’re ‘not’,” He replied sarcastically. 

“You know what, I’m done with you,” You started to walk away from him, but he caught your hand.

“No you’re not,” He whispered, pulling you into a coat closet. 

“What the-- What are you doing?!” You squealed, the door closing behind you. You were now practically on top of Rafael, his arms were around your waist, your arms instinctively went around his neck as you practically tripped on your way inside the closet. 

“I thought we both felt a spark,” He grinned in the dimly lit closet. “And I’m never wrong,” 

“Really?” You scoffed.

“Tell me I’m wrong and you can walk right out of here hermosa,” He caressed your cheek. You stared at him for a moment, his green eyes were full of lust. His smile was intoxicating. Yeah, you definitely felt SOMETHING.

“....Alright stud you’ve got fifteen minutes, we have to be there when they cut the cake.” You agreed.

“Deal,” He grabbed you in a hungry, passionate kiss; his hands pulled down the up do you had your hair in, tossing the flowered hair clip aside. 

“Hey! I needed that--” You started to complain, but Rafael’s hand up your dress left you speechless. 

“I think you needed that more, carino,” He chuckled, running his digits in and out of you. 

“Fuck yes,” you gasped, fondling with his belt. You unzipped his pants to reveal a rather large erection sticking out of it. 

“Thank you God,” You mouthed to the sky. 

“Alright now, no screaming carino, we’re in a church,” He chuckled huskily, lifting your dress above your thighs and plunging straight into you.

You did your best not to moan as you slammed against the door, Rafael pumping in and out of you fiercely. As an alternative, you kept your mouth busy by gnawing on Rafael’s neck, causing his own stifled moans of pleasure. He pulled your dress down off your chest, so your very large “cha chas” were front and center. 

“Oh I see, are these the ‘sparks’ you felt, counselor?” You did your best to sound snarky, but the pleasure was too much. 

“Indeed, princess,” He growled, grabbing one of them in his mouth and sucking hard on your nipples. You wanted to moan so loud, and now his neck was out of reach. You felt it rising out of your throat, but before you could scream a hand flew over your mouth.

Thank God Rafael had made note of your pleasure faces, it was just in time for you to finish in a muffled scream of ecstasy, followed quickly by Rafael’s own shaking and final moaning. He slowly let you out of his grasp, as you fell against the door of the closet.

“Look at that, we’ve still got 10 whole minutes,” He laughed breathlessly. 

“Good, I have to go wash your baby gravy off of my legs, ya perv,” You shook your head and grabbed one of the nearby coats to wipe the warm trail of cum trailing down your legs. 

“Oh my god,” Rafael looked on in disgust.

“Don’t look at me like that, you did it!” You hit him while you wiped it off and haphazardly tossed the coat into the very back of the closet. Maybe it was a lost and found jacket. 

“Alright alright, check if the coast is clear princess,” He rolled his eyes. You cracked the closet door open a tad, making sure the guests had all exited the chapel. To your relief, the hallway was empty. You threw open the door and walked out, Rafael on your heels. You leaned down and picked up the flowered clip, gesturing to your hair.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you in there,” You nodded at him, indicating you were off to fix the damage. 

“I guess you shall,” He winked, giving you one last quick kiss. 

As he walked away, you couldn’t help but giggle with giddiness. 

“God I love weddings,” You smiled to yourself as you headed into the ladies room.

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Anything you write is so amazing so can I please request a marriage au and possibly mafia with Hyunjin. You can pick the plot!!

Hi! I’m not sure if you wanted smut, but I was inspired to write smut. Please enjoy.

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Hyunjin

Genre: Mafia AU; Marriage AU

Warnings: Language and Smut

Word Count: 1.7K

It was cold when you pulled up to your expensive estate, bundled up in a luxurious coat and an evening gown that cost more than the car your driver had brought you home in. But no amount of money could improve your current mood, silently loathing your husband’s insistence, yet again, that you return home early and miss out on all the fun at your best performing club.

“Fuck him,” you decided aloud, slamming the door closed behind you as you marched along the neat sidewalk leading to the front door. 

For the past several weeks, you had done your best to run the club downtown where you entertained the wealthy patrons who enjoyed the rare alcohol selections from the bar. You were the reason why the club was so successful, but then everything seemingly changed overnight, and you would always blame the drunk, inconsiderate asshole who started a huge fight that had to be broken up by every security guard you had hired. 

By the time Hyunjin arrived on the scene, your husband was incensed, and he enforced a very strict curfew that prevented you from staying in the club past nightfall. “Extra security measures my ass,” you growled. “Who else is gonna run that place while he drives around town making all sorts of deals?”

He hadn’t always been that protective. When Hyunjin found you after taking over your father’s pathetic excuse for an organization, merging the two together, and sealing the deal by asking for permission to marry you - the gorgeous daughter who could certainly handle herself in a fight - he promised that you would be involved in every aspect of his underground mafia dealings.

But then the fight happened, and you were stuck at home bored out of your mind while you resented Hyunjin’s decision to keep you locked up like some kind of animal. The anger and frustration continued to grow each night you found yourself gazing out the window in the living room and wondered what was happening to the rest of the world while huge, well-armed security guards walked the premises of your home and kept you inside. “I’m not doing this anymore,” you decided, and you didn’t even bother to change out of your club skirt before planting yourself at the mini-bar in the kitchen where you would wait for Hyunjin to drag his ass back home. “I won’t stand down!”

It was a worthy declaration, and you were in the process of rehearing everything you wanted to say to Hyunjin, ruminating over the past few weeks of isolation while glancing at the fancy clock ticking away in the background. The hour had entered the early AM when you heard the front door open, followed by the sound of Hyunjin’s voice as he spoke on the phone to one of his subordinates. “We’ll meet with him this Friday,” Hyunjin said, and you watched him walk into the kitchen, startling when he realized you were still awake. “Yeah, I’ll call you back tomorrow.”

You smirked, waiting until he hung up the phone before speaking. “It’s about time you get here.”

“I had some things to take care of,” Hyunjin replied, and he must’ve been ignorant to your foul mood as he walked over to spread your thighs, making himself comfortable between them. “You’re still all dressed up.”

“We need to talk,” you said, deciding that it was best to get straight to the point.

“Sweetheart, what’s your problem?” Hyunjin asked, and you frowned as he started messing with the knot on his tie.

“My problem is you, Hyunjin,” you snapped, furious that he was being so nonchalant.

“Me?” Hyunjin scoffed. “What the hell did I do wrong?”

“Really?” You rolled your eyes at how dense he was. “Can’t think of anything?”

“Is it because I’m home so late?” he asked. “You know I work late sometimes, baby.”

“Quit calling me that,” you growled. “I’m talking about the new club. You know I’m the best person to run it, but you keep sending me home like I’m a kid or something.”

Hyunjin smiled. “Is that all? You’re precious to me, baby,” Hyunjin whispered, kissing you like you were something delicate to be treasured.

“My father taught me how to use a knife when I was ten,” you hissed against the seam of his mouth, pulling back to glare at Hyunjin. “I’m not a flower.”

Hyunjin scowled, and you realized that you had said something to piss him off, swallowing hard when he grabbed your arm even while trying to keep on a mask of false bravado. “I just wanted to come home and make love to my wife,” he said, and you winced when the hold around your arm grew tighter. “No,” he continued, and all previous semblances of softness were gone. “You want to be fucked, isn’t that right?”

“I want to be treated with respect!” you protested, yelping in pain when he forced you up out of your chair only to spin you around and bend your entire upper half over the counter.

“Is that right?” he growled into your ear. “You want me to let you do whatever the hell you want?”

“I can protect myself,” you said. “I did it before I met you!”

“But you have me now, sweetheart,” Hyunjin cooed, and you shivered when he started sliding your skirt down your thighs. 

“I don’t need you to boss me around,” you insisted, even though it was quite obvious that Hyunjin had had enough of your attitude.

“Speak like that to me again,” he snarled, landing a sharp slap to the flesh of your ass. 

“What are you gonna do?” you challenged him. “Fuck the fight out of me? Act like the big bad mafia boss who orders everyone around?”

“Maybe I will,” he whispered, and your next words were wiped clean around a moan when two of his fingers immediately penetrated your tight cunt. “Not so mouthy now,” Hyunjin said, and you whimpered at his tone, legs shaking at the fast movements of his fingers against your delicate walls, grazing that sweet spot with every stroke. 

“This isn’t fair!” you whined, but Hyunjin only laughed in response, wrapping his free arm around your waist as he brought you back against his chest, curling his fingers just right as he flexed his wrist with talented motions. 

“You’ll cum once like this from my fingers,” he said. “And then once from my cock.”

“Is this your way of controlling me?” you asked, wincing when he abruptly removed his fingers and allowed you to tall back down against the counter.

“It’s my way of loving you,” Hyunjin said, and you could hear the raw emotion in his voice. “I just want you to be safe and happy, Y/N.”

“Hyunjin...” you tried, but there was no finishing a coherent sentence when his fingers were back on your clit, drawing harsh little circles with his thumb while three fingers stretched the walls of your still-tender pussy, pushing you closer to the edge while murmuring sweet nothings into the hair at the back of your neck.

“Feel good for me,” he said, and you choked around a stuttered exhale when your first orgasm of the night left you reeling from Hyunjin’s dramatic shift to something soft and decidedly un-mafia-like. 

“Baby,” you sighed, allowing your forehead to touch the cool surface of the counter to alleviate the sweat building there, groaning when Hyunjin slid down your panties and started working apart his well-pressed suit pants. 

“You can cum again for me, Y/N,” Hyunjin said, and despite the ache in your core, you spread your legs even wider for him when he started to push his cock between your gaping walls, replacing the spaces where his fingers had previously brought you to the edge. “So tight,” Hyunjin moaned, and his hands held firmly to your hips as he started pounding immediately, leaving you no time to adjust; although, you were already prepared for him because of the mess he had made from finger fucking you into oblivion. 

“Shit your cock is amazing,” you cried, tossing back your head against the fresh waves of pleasure, closing your eyes as you took everything he was giving you.

It almost felt like a peace offering, especially when your husband was more than inclined to take you over any available surface of your lavish home. 

“Yeah?” Hyunjin grunted, and you could practically feel his proud smirk as he gave you all his attention, working his cock at different angles and listening for your reactions: staccato moans and dramatic cries of his name. “Tell me when you’re close.”

“Soon,” you promised him, arching your back just a little more because it gave Hyunjin better leverage to hit your g-spot on every thrust. 

He took the hint, grinding his hips against your ass and working you over as only someone who had spent years learning your body could. “Do you need me to touch you?” he asked and you nodded fiercely, unable to resist the tears that started to fall when one hand returned to your throbbing clitoris, giving it some much-needed attention as the rest of you started to fall apart.

“I’m coming!” you cried, looking back over at your husband and nearly losing it at the sight of his concentrated expression. Sweat falling down the sides of his hairline, eyes focused on the place where he was pumping his cock inside of you, expression shadowed by the same lust and desire curling at the place where he was working you with his cock and fingers. “Hyunjin!” you shouted, losing every single last reserve of your inhibitions as you came for a second time, panting and desperate for him as he gave two deep thrusts before his cum joined your own.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he growled, pulling his cock from your ruined cunt as you held on to the counter with whatever strength you had left since your legs almost felt numb from his prior ministrations. “I got you,” he said, reaching down to collect you into his arms, holding you close as he brought you both upstairs to your shared bedroom.

You sighed at the feeling of the satin sheets against your lower back, reminders of the extravagances that his mafia dealings could afford you both, reaching over to wrap an arm around Hyunjin’s waist to keep him close. “I know that you love me, baby,” you said, drawing his attention. “But I still want to work the club at night.”

“Y/N,” Hyunjin growled, and you savored the wild, animalistic look in his gaze that promised you both a very long night.

[cassanovancats]

felicitate. two.

one < current > three

Jan. 2017

Two months have passed since Yuta’s first day. You were able to convince Satoru that, because he shared the similar disadvantage of not having an inherent technique, you should control his training. Maki was still his primary partner when it came to afternoon sparring. But he was your partner in the mornings.

Every morning, the two of you would focus on a different part of the body or a different form of exercise. You spotted him in the weight room, you logged his mile times, and, most importantly, you became his friend. Over before-dawn laps and cool-down stretches, you got to know Yuta and Rika.

For the first month, Rika stayed as an intangible ball of energy hovering around Yuta. Then, slowly, she began to manifest a form. Only for a minute at a time initially, but with time, she would appear for the entire session. Rika would hover a few feet above the weight bench or make flower crowns from the wildflowers that grew around your preferred trail. Yuta seemed just as surprised as you when she placed one on your head after a week of her practicing making them. She explained how she wanted to make something just as pretty as you, with all the innocence of a child. You had thanked her with watery eyes.

But with all the peace that came after settling into a new routine with Yuta joining your class, something was bound to ruin it. This time it was a required meeting between the big three clans. The invitation that arrived specifically asked for both you and your brother’s presence. Satoru tried to squirm out of it saying, “They didn’t say which brother had to attend,” but Megumi's unimpressed look and point at the name Gojo sprawled across the top ended that excuse.

Which lead to where you are now, dragging your human classmates through the Ginza streets to collect a custom gown. Maki grumbled all morning, but you were finally able to shut her up with a promise of buying everyone coffee, lunch and take-out dinner. Inumaki was content with any excuse to go into the city (even if it meant he had to carry your bags) and Yuta didn’t have the nerve to reject your offer when you smiled so hopefully. Though, he was curious after the employee of the shop greeted you like an old friend. “Why do you need such a fancy dress?”

“I don’t,” you rolled your eyes. “I have, or had, several custom ones already. I donate almost all my clothes after wearing them to these events. These meetings, when me and Nii-chan are both requested, are used as an excuse to find ways to undermine the political status of Gojo’s. Nii-chan did not force me into years of tutoring on sorcerer history and politics for me to get clowned about wearing the same outfit as last time.”

Maki adds, “The Zen’ins and Kamos are the standard for sleazy shamans. Not every sorcerer is as nice as us.” Yuta nods hesitantly, which makes you snort.

“I know us kicking your ass constantly may not seem ‘nice,’ but trust me when I say I’d rather be getting tossed around by Maki or Panda than attending this dinner.”

“Bonito flakes.” You can tell Inumaki is pouting behind his face mask.

“C’mon, Toge-chan,” you draw out the ‘-chan’ and grab his free hand to swing it back-and-forth. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. It’s a good thing to not be grouped with Maki! She’s such a meanie when it comes to training.” Maki moves too fast for you to dodge her punch. Yuta laughs under his breath at your group’s antics. “Anyways, the most exciting part of this dinner will be seeing what Kamo schmuck they dig up to try to convince Satoru to marry me off.”

“They’re still on that?” Maki laughs and throws her arm over your shoulder. “You would think they’d catch the hint after you stopped wearing furisodes.”

“Salted fish roe,” Inumaki offers.

You sigh, “I would, but you know they wouldn’t treat you well. Escorting me would just mean you get to deal with their passive aggressive comments too.”

“What if I escort you?”

Your group stops walking in the middle of the crowded streets. People continue to push past, but the three of you continue to stare dumbfounded at Yuta. “Is it that bad of an idea?” He flushes bright red and turns his head to stare at the ground.

“No, no,” you reassure as you get the group moving again. “It’s just… well, you remember how we reacted when you came into the class initially, yeah? While they would make fun of Toge-kun, the people at this meeting would try to kill you without hesitation. There’s no guarantee even Rika could stop the full force of everyone in both the Zen’in and Kamo clans.”

Yuta gives a small, “Oh.” He continues to stare at the ground.

“Seriously, I would love to have an escort, especially if it was either of you. There’s only so much of clan politics I can take alone. But I’d never ask you or Toge to go through that for me.” You move from in between Maki and Inumaki to bump against Yuta. “Like, these people are the ultimate bullies. I want you to deal with them only when absolutely necessary.” He finally seems to cheer up some and you take the moment to grab his hand, tugging him forward. “Now c’mon! The bakery Nii-chan got those pastries from last week is only a few blocks away!”

The day of the meeting arrives without much fanfare. Satoru took Megumi out on a mission in the morning to exorcise some low-level curse and you were left at the school to start what would be a long day of preparations. You shuffle into the common area and begin making a cup of coffee. It isn’t until you turn to get creamer from the fridge you realize Yuta, Inumaki and Panda are eating breakfast in the same room. You flush, suddenly aware that you didn’t grab any sweatpants when you left your room and you had slept in a stolen pair of Satoru’s boxers. “Please tell me I’m still asleep,” you mutter, shutting your eyes and whipping back around to finish preparing your coffee.

Panda falls over laughing. Inumaki gives a loud whistle. Yuta is redder than you are and has his face almost flat against his rice. Of course, to add to your humiliation, Hakari and Maki come in from training.

“(y/n), I was never here and I never saw you,” Hakari throws his hand over his eyes and immediately turns to run towards his dorm room.

“You know, I don’t see why you don’t just attend dinner in this outfit,” Panda says.

“Of course you don’t, you literally don’t wear clothes. At least Hakari is smart enough to have some shame and not ogle at her.” Maki moves forward to steal a sip from your cup and gags, “God, how much sugar is in this thing?”

You pout, “The appropriate amount to get me through today. I need to borrow one of your thigh holsters, by the way. Nii-chan doesn’t want me to have to use his technique if something happens.”

“Nori?” The three jerks finally stop laughing, though Panda still seems particularly delighted at your embarrassment.

“Mm, I don’t think so. But some elders got pushy when I was sent to the last meeting and not my brother. Satoru wants me to be able to scare them, not maim them.”

“Salmon,” Inumaki still seems hesitant, but you and Maki move onto a different topic easily as you two walk to her room.

Yuta watches until he’s sure neither of you will hear him ask, “Will she really be okay?”

Inumaki, despite seeming hesitant before, gives a stronger, “Salmon.” He gestures for Yuta to pick up his phone (the boy has gotten better at understanding Inumaki, but wasn’t able to have a conversation yet) and sends a message in a group chat appropriately named Da Bois while Panda grumbles about how unfair it is that he has paws and can’t use a phone.

osamu: (y/n)ie is smiley but she’d kill someone if they tried anything lol

fushiguro: what did the idiot do

fushiguro: who is osamu

osamu: ofc u don’t know hq

fushiguro: what’s that supposed to mean

creepy-kun: when did you change my name >:(

Yuta pouts about the name change for the rest of the day and avoids his phone to keep from Inumaki’s teasing. He almost misses the photo you send in JJH Thots.

It’s you and your brother pressed cheek-to-cheek and making faces at the camera. Satoru has on his circular sunglasses instead of a blindfold, even though it’s clearly night in the photo. His bright, blue eyes peek over their edge, his smile wide, and he has one hand throwing a peace sign and the other on your side. Your mouth is tugged back into a snarl, but Yuta can see how a smile is starting to break through and your eyes are lit up. Both of your hands form claws, like you were a second away from jumping through the phone screen and pinning the viewer.

the good gojo: time to annoy some bastards!!

maki: tell naobito he’s a bitch

fushiguro: ^

osamu: you!! look!!! hot!!!!

the good gojo: the way satoru thought that was for him

the good gojo: it’s delusion luv

Yuta has seen the two of you in almost this exact pose in person. But you weren’t dressed like that, with the slightest hint of the black leather holster you wore peeking out from underneath soft layers of tulle. Even his usual carefree teacher is in Western formal wear, with a tie that matches the floral print on your dress. Yuta knew you had bickered over who got to pick and who had to match. He almost couldn’t imagine the people in the picture wrestling like the two of you had. Together, you two are blindingly beautiful. It wasn’t fair.

Yuta covered his face with his pillow and screamed.

[liquid-luck-00]

Connections 2

Chapter 2

this is based on @thepeacetea daminette soulmate au

Masterlist *** Previous *** Next

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

One year has passed and Marinette couldn’t be happier with her dad and Penny. She has been on tour with her dad and has thus been home schooled for a year. Then final performance is in Gotham city and she is going to the Wayne Gala with her dad. After only a year she has gained and adopted the name Marinette Stone, and you would not believe how much the media fell in love with her.

 ---

 Jagged’s tour was going to end in Gotham and Tim couldn’t be happier. He practically begged Bruce to send him and Invite to the Gala in an attempt to meet the Rockstar. Bruce eventually gave in and invited the Rockstar and Tim was ecstatic.

 ---

 To say he was surprised was an understatement, Jagged couldn’t believe that he was being invited to the Wayne Gala. His answer was immediate, he accepted the offer, not because of the Wayne name but because of what the Gala was for. Every Gala was for a charity and Jagged couldn’t bring himself to refuse.

“What’s this dad?” Mari asked him as he set the invite down.

“It’s an invite to a big fancy party”

“Are we going?”

“It’s a Rock’ in cause so ya”

“oh!” Marinette shot up and ran from the room only to comeback with a book. She stood next to him as she flipped though her drawings before finding the one, she liked. “do you like it dad”

It was a simple black tux with dark purple accents but what shot it over was that there were music notes everywhere they were meant to catch the light and reflect at angles. The suit was perfect and they both knew it.

“that’s amazing little rocker! Any ideas for Penny?” she only responded with a smirk and flipped a page. The dress she showed him was stunning, it was a mermaid dress that was a deep dark purple an had an open back. Over the whole dress was a lace that incorporated music notes that draped from her shoulders to the ground perfectly over the dress. “I think she’ll like it Mari, but what about you?” now her smirk grew wider.

“it’s a surprise”

“well it will be beautiful” with that Mari ran up to her room and you could hear her working and patterning until it would be perfect.

 ---

 Ever since moving in with her uncle he really did become her dad. He supported her in her fashion dreams and has even worn some of her pieces on stage. She didn’t want anyone to know it was her so papa only said they were from a little online shop, but that he couldn’t give out the name yet.

Mari couldn’t believe her luck she was originally going to give them the outfits for their birthdays, but this was better. She had been trying to keep them secret, but this was perfectly timed.

 ---

 The day of the Gala arrived and the three of then went out to the limo. Marinette couldn’t believe that she finished all three outfits, but she was more than pleased with the results. She was dressed in a purple to pink dress with musical notes and a black velvet sash tied in a bow. Her hair was in a simple chunky braid that was pinned into a loose bun. Dad couldn’t stop smiling and Penny was gushing how cute she was and how well the three looked.

When they arrived at the Gala, they walked the red carpet and Marinette stayed close to her dad. She smiled and waved for the pictures while dad dropped hints that the three were dressed by his mysterious designer.

Mari could tell instantly she was the youngest as soon as they stepped into the ballroom, so she hid behind her dad but still made polite conversation with those who spoke with her.

 ---

 Tim was bouncing on his feet trying to catch a glimpse of the Rockstar.

“Tim” Bruce cut into his searching.

“Yes?” Tim immediately stopped his searching and looked at his father.

“Sigh. Come on let’s look” Tim was on his heals. They walked around the room until they saw the Rocker. But they were having trouble the rocker was with a woman and child and almost every woman there seemed to be fawning over the child and Rocker.

That was when Tim noticed the child, she was calm and courteous but when her eyes saw him, she excused herself and ran towards him. She had to be about six from her height, but her motions were fluid and not without purpose.

“Hi there” the child extended her hand “I’m Marinette, nice to meet you”

Tim went through the motions and shook her hand, “Hi I’m Tim” he gave her a polite smile and then looked back at Jagged. That was when he heard her laugh and he looked at the child and frowned. “What’s so funny?”

“You” she stated it and continued to giggle, that only deepened his frown. She then Turned around and called “Papa, I think someone wants to meet you” she still was giggling.

“Little Star! I told you not to leave my side” The rocker said with a chuckle and a glint in his eye. “Looks like Mari’s taken a liking to you, nice to meet you I’m Jagged Stone” he held out his hand and in that moment Tim .exe stopped working. And almost as suddenly shook his idol’s hand.

“OMGItsapleasuretomeetyou”

“Tim” Bruce called “breathe” Tim shook his head took a breath and seemed to regain some composure while Bruce only seemed to laugh.

“Hello Mr. Stone, my name is Tim” the little girl seemed to have stopped giggling, but she was looking between Tim and Bruce and then something seemed to click, and she was giggling again.

“What’s so funny star?” the girl took a deep breath.

She turned to Bruce and extended a hand “Hello Mr. Wayne” and the look on Bruce’s face was priceless. This little girl seemed to not only recognize Bruce without him ever introducing himself, but even the Rocker was shocked.

 ---

 Bruce didn’t understand what was going on and that was surprising. A six-year-old was able to identify him and what he knows of Jagged she would never have visited Gotham before. But he was never going to be prepared by what happens next.

This giggling girl suddenly stopped and went quiet. She looked behind him for only a moment before her attention was back on him. Her blue eyes lost in thought, when almost a suddenly they snapped to attention. She grabbed his hand and pulled him to the side as a man dressed as a server was holding a knife. This little girl just pulled him away from an attacker without a giveaway.

She turned around as the attacker spun around and charged. She didn’t move, hell she didn’t flinch as he ran towards her with a knife. She was small and she used her size to her advantage but that didn’t stop the punch that she hit the attacker with on his leg. Almost instantly the man went down, and this little girl just took him down. Bruce didn’t know how this child was able to hit the spleen 11 pressure point, but she did.

“Are you okay?” a soft voice rang in his ears and saw the sweet little girl again.

“Yes, I am…” Bruce was confused to say the least, and his confusion only grew when he heard laughter.

“Little Star that was dangerous” Jagged Stone scolded, and he laughed. The girl looked sheepish and just like a child should.

“How?” was the only thing that registered in his mind.

“Dunno she’s always been a little badass.” The Rockstar laughed.

This child is something else.

 ---

 The five of them stayed together the rest of the night and by the end Little Marinette was practically adopted by the Wayne family as a niece to Bruce. As she referred to him as Uncle Bruce and called Tim Tim-Tam.

The Stones were invited the next day for lunch at the manor where Marinette met Dick and Jason. Jason who when told couldn’t believe it until he saw the video and hasn’t stopped laughing except to call her his sister and give her the nickname Pixie Pop to which she responded to call him Jay-Jay. Dick practically fell in love with his new sister and she fell in love with him calling him Blue Bird.

Marinette loved Gotham because of her new brother’s and she practically begged to stay longer. It was Alfred who spoke up asking about her education. Dad saying, she was doing classes online. And Bruce asking if they would like she can attend Gotham Academy and stay with them in the manor while Jagged was on tour. Marinette couldn’t be happier, all that was left was a concert in Paris then school would start.

Next

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

A quick doodle of young Marinette. I think that after the gala the people of Gotham call her Gotham’s Pixie

Taglist🐞🦇

@thanks-captain-obvious @mandy984 @our-preciousss @readingismyoxygen @birdy912 @shifty-lesbian-retro-goblin @todaylillypads @laurcad123 @demonangel27 @be-happy-every-day-please @fandom-trapped-03 @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @t1dwarrior-of-earth @saays-bitch @kawaiigiantjudgefish @k-poplunardreams @animegirlweeb @animezodiac707 @justcourttee

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || You’re A Self Made Billionaire [Request]

WARNING: Yoongi’s mentions themes of sex…Just wanted to warn you :)

Seokjin:

You didn't want to go to the company dinner, you wanted to stay home with your boyfriend Jin, sitting around a table full of boring board directors wasn't your idea of a fun evening.

"Does this look okay?" Jin asked as he came into your bedroom, he was dressed in a black suit with a bow tie and you nodded at him, walking over to him and straightening the bow tie for him. He knew that you worked for a huge company and that meetings like this were important for you to attend but he didn't know you had to be so fancy for them. You were dressed in a backless, red, silk gown and looked as though you were about ready to walk the red carpet with him and he loved that.

"You look stunning tonight." He whispered as he bent down to kiss you on the lips, you blushed and smiled up at him. You didn't know if you should tell him that you were the reason for the meeting. You were the big boss but you didn't think it was important enough, it wouldn't come up during the meeting anyway. So you decided against it, telling him to leave with you now or you'll both be late for the meal.

(X)

"Ah! The beautiful Miss Y/L/N, you look like a million bucks!" The American board director said as you entered the private room,

"Which I guess should be a billion!" Everyone in the room laughed except for you and Jin who stood awkwardly in the door waiting to be seated,

"The head of the table for the head of the board." Your assistant said taking you and Jin over to the top of the table and sat you down, you smiled at her and she handed you and Jin a menu before going back to standing in the doorway.

"Head of the board?" Before you could whisper an explanation to Jin someone was clinking their glass and standing up.

"A toast, to one of the most amazing billionaires we know." You smiled at them and they all began clapping their hands and Jin joined in staring at you as you looked at the menu, wanting the night to finish.

(X)

"Were you ever going to tell me?" He asked once everyone had left the back room, he'd been off from the moment he found out and now you were worried he was going to be really pissed off at you.

"Of course, I just wanted to wait for the right time. I didn't think they would talk about it tonight." You groaned as you got up from the table, the stupid dress you were wearing getting caught on the chair leg and almost knocking you over.

"So you thought it wasn't important enough to share with me? We've been dating for eight months!" He was right, you should have told him before now but you never found the right time to do it. It was hard to bring it up into a conversation with someone.

"Jin, don't be mad...I was going to, I just didn't know how." You whispered, he relaxed a little hearing you speak so sadly, he walked over to you and titled your head up to look at him,

"I'm not mad, I'm just- Yes, I'm a little mad but I'm just upset you didn't tell me. I'm sorry, I was just blindsided." He sighed and leant against the table, you stared up into his eyes and bit down on your lip.

"Hi Kim Seokjin, I'm Min Y/N and I'm a self-made billionaire living in Korea." You said with a sarcastic smile,

"It just doesn't sound right. I feel like I'm bragging so I keep it all hidden." You groaned, he pulled you closer and laid your head on his chest, running his hands through your hair and kissing the top of your head.

"How about we go home, and just cuddle on the sofa." You nodded at him, glad he wasn't extremely mad at you for hiding something like this from him.

"Can I order food, those small portions are nothing." You groaned rubbing your stomach as it growled at you for the fifth time in a row,

"I get to decide what this time, you choose the last time." You nodded and walked out of the restaurant hand in hand with Jin.

Yoongi:

"Excuse me a minute." You said to the boys, you got up from the living room sofa and took your phone call to Yoongi's bedroom in the dorms. He smirked as he watched you walk away, he knew what you were and what you did for a living and so did everyone else. Yoongi was beyond proud of you and loved everything you did, he understood that when that phone rang you had to answer it no questions asked and he understood. Just like you understood his work, it was an unspoken thing in your relationship, it made it easier to deal with and it meant there was no silly fights about the long nights he worked or the long nights that you worked.

"What's she working on at the minute?" Jimin asked breaking Yoongi from his trance, he looked over to his bedroom door and heard you laughing excitedly.

"I think she just got a good deal for the company, they've been trying to get some author to join them I think." He said he thinks but he knew, he knew everything that was going on because he would listen to you talk about it all night if you'd let him. It was something you both did on a regular basis, he would come home from a long day to meet you in bed. You would lay on his chest as he played with your hair, you drawing invisible patterns on his skin, both of you listening to each others day and what happened with you.

"I got her!" You yelled coming out from his room and jumping onto his lap, kissing him all over the face not caring that the rest of the boys were all sitting there.

"We got her! Well, I got her. I convinced her. Who wants to go out for dinner?! My treat!" You yelled getting up from Yoongi's lap and doing his excited dance, something you'd gotten from him after spending so much time together. Jimin chuckled getting up from the floor and joining in with you, Yoongi smiling at you both as you began jumping up and down.

"I need to go and get ready at my apartment, I'll send a car for you all...Yoongi are you coming with me?" You asked, knowing he had clothes at your apartment he could change into and you could celebrate properly before going to dinner with the rest of them.

"I'm down." He practically rushed off the sofa to his feet and began walking out of the dorms with you. The other best thing about your relationship was the celebatory sex whenever you got a deal you loved or he finish a new song, album or collab. The sex was amazing and you would both leave feeling like you'd accomplished something more.

(X)

"I'm so proud of you baby." Yoongi said at the resturant table later that night, you smiled at him and he clinked your glasses together, the rest of the boys all joining in and congradulating you on the big deal.

"You're the best!" Jungkook yelled as you giggled at him, you'd brought them all dinner and dessert, you didn't mind spending your money, you always said that you had too much of it and needed a way to get rid of it sometimes. You were already donating to different charties and other companies that needed the money.

"I see you and Yoongi had a nice time getting ready." Jimin sniggered, earning a smack from Taehyung who told him to shut up, you blushed holding your hand over the hickey on your neck and sat down, sipping on your drink and getting ready to order some food. Yoongi smirked at you from across the table and you shook your head at him, you'd told him not to leave any marks but it just wasn't his style.

Hoseok:

Hoseok had asked you to pick him up from work that morning since he'd stayed over at your apartment the night before.

"Sure but can we stay at yours, I'm bored of my apartment." You moaned to him as he was walking to the front door, already late for dance practise and getting messages from the boys in the group chat.

"Fine, but you can order food for us and bring a movie." You agreed and watched him getting into the BigHit company car and being driven away. You and Hoseok had been together for a year and he knew about your lifestyle, he knew you were a billionaire and he respected it. He loved everything you did because you were passionate about it, it was a lot like him with music and dancing except yours was with expanding businesses and helping out charities. As soon as Hoseok found out that you were a billionaire a weight was lifted off his chest, normally when he dated someone he had to be careful in case they were using him for his money but with you, he didn't need to worry about that and you felt at ease because you didn't have to worry about it with him either.

(X)

You honked the horn as you waited outside the main entrance to BigHit, earning a smirk from Hoseok who was standing and talking to Namjoon in the doorway. Both of them looking up from their phones and laughing as they saw you sitting in the White Tesla waiting for Hoseok to come out and go home with you.

"Want a ride Joonie?" You asked when you rolled the window down, you opened the car doors from inside and he shook his head at you, climbing into the back and thanking you. Hoseok kissed you through the window and got into the passenger side door.

"Are we taking the rest or is it just Joon?" You questioned Hoseok, and they both shook their head. All the others had gone home in company cars.

"Okaiidokie." You said turning on the engine and pulling out of the car park and heading into roads, Namjoon asking questions about what you did at work, everything you'd already done with Hoseok when you first started dating.

"She's amazing right?" Hoseok asked as you pulled up outside Namjoon's apartment, he nodded and thanked you for the ride. You waited until he was inside his apartment before you started driving away with Hoseok, who was now resting his hand on your thigh as you drove.

"I love you." He chuckled as you pulled into his garage and parked your car next to his.

"I love you too." You whispered, leaning across the gearstick and kissing him, he smirked against your lips as you made out in your car, he would never get enough of you but he had to. He pulled away and cupped your face in his hands, pushing the hair out of your eyes and smiling at you as you smiled back at him, wanting to kiss him some more but both of you were hungry,

"I'm starving, let's get something to eat." You nodded and got out of the car, going into his apartment and ordering the food for you both.

Namjoon:

Namjoon and you had met because of your businesses. You owned a string of book shops and you were working in the one he came into one morning, asking for your recommendations and you gave them to him. Telling him you didn't have them in that one shop but you were sure you had them in another one, giving him the address and watching as he biked away from the shop. He really caught your eye because he was smart, kind and caring and he was riding a bike instead of some big car that would pollute the city, you owned multiple cars but always rode your bike because you wanted to help save the earth, something you were really passionate about. Namjoon couldn't get you out of his mind though, he always found himself going back to that shop to look for you but was always disappointed when he couldn't find you. When he eventually did he asked you out on a date, both of you going for a walk around the River Han together, talking about everything and anything that would come to mind and you told him about how you got into owning multiple bookshops and he found it fascinating that you'd gone from owning a small rundown book shop to owning multiple across South Korea and some parts of America.

(X)

"NAMJOON!" You screamed running out of your office in the house you shared with him, he looked up from his notebook. You looked like you were about to cry and he rushed to his feet.

"I did it! I have him! I have him and he's willing to meet you!" You yelled jumping up and down on the spot, the author that Namjoon had been obsessing over recently was looking for a new bookshop to sponsor and you approached him not expecting anything to come from it but now you were working with him and he was agreeing to meet Namjoon. Saying he'd heard great things about your company and Namjoon himself,

"No way!" Namjoon yelled throwing his arms around you and spinning you around the apartment, both of you now yelling and acting like total fangirls and boys.

"When? When does he want to meet us?!" You giggled as he put you down on the floor, you straightened your outfit and handed him the notepad with all of the details sitting on it.

"He wants to go for dinner on Sunday and then we'll have a board meeting with him next week." You giggled, kissing Namjoon and then dancing around the apartment, singing out lyrics and wanting to scream from the rooftops about what was happening but it was all top secret until everything was being finalised and then the press would do their work.

"You deserve this baby." Namjoon chuckled as you finally came down from your high, he stroked the hair from your face and you sighed happily, relaxing against his chest and closing your eyes.

"I don't think I would have got him without you Joonie, I love you." You giggled, kissing him on the chin and then giggling as he wiped it away dramatically.

"I love you too." He whispered, kissing your lips and picking you up.

"Dinner on me tonight." He told you,

"Only because I ordered Sushi for the last three nights." You pouted, you knew his dislike for seafood but you loved it.

"Burgers tonight!" He called out as he ran for the menu, making you giggle as he almost slipped on the hardwood floor. You watched him from the living room, wondering how you managed to get someone so amazing in your life.

Jimin:

It was supposed to be your day off yet here you were running around with your boyfriend Jimin, hoping he wouldn't start asking questions about what you were doing. You hadn't found the right moment to explain to him that you were a billionaire and as more time passed in your relationship it was getting harder and harder to just mention it. It felt like something you should have told him when you first started dating, but you never knew how to tell him. It was hard.

"Y/n!" One of the shop workers yelled as you walked through the door, Jimin standing behind you on his phone. You told it would be ten minute thing and you would be back to your date.

"Yeah, what's wrong?!" You asked walking through the building, Jimin stood on the shop floor and waited for you by the till, meanwhile the shop workers all began to rush around and start speaking in hushed tones. Jimin was confused when one of them came over to him and asked if he wanted to sit in your office.

"Office?" The assistant nodded and took him to the back room, inside you were sitting at the desk, a phone pressed to your ear as you stressfully wrote on a pad of paper, a shaking woman standing beside you as you turned red in the face.

"I'll get you a drink sir," The same assistant said leaving the room and Jimin stared at you, you hadn't noticed him in the room. You were too busy trying not to yell down the phone at someone for being so stupid,

"Whatever. I want it done and I want it done now, I shouldn't have to come in on my day off because your men don't know how to deal with strong women!" You finally yelled, hanging up the phone and standing up to comfort the shaking woman beside you. You dragged her into a hug and Jimin watched as you rubbed her back, shaking your head and pulling back to look at her.

"You okay?" She nodded and then sat down in the chair you'd been sitting in.

"Jimin?!" You questioned, his eyes were wide as he stared at you. Confussed by everything happening around you,

"Miss Y/L/N, I brought him in because the shop front was going to open. I hope that's okay." You nodded and asked everyone to leave so you could explain the situation to Jimin.

(X)

"You hid the fact that you were a billionaire from me for nine months..." You nodded, sitting across from him on the sofa as you both drank the coffee your assistant had brought you.

"You're not mad at me are you? I didn't want you to see the workaholic side of me but I guess it's too late now." You laughed softly referring back to the phone call with the incompitant workers that you'd hired.

"No, I think it's awesome. At least now I know where you got the Porchse from and it explains your huge apartment." He laughed shaking his head at you and then looking at the door, someone was lightly knocking on it.

"Come in." You called out, the door pushed open and you smiled at the shy worker from behind.

"It's done, they send their appologies and hope you have a nice night." She handed you an enevlope before leaving, you opened it to see an invitation to one of the hardest to get into resturants in Seoul.

"Fuck. Even I can't get in there!" Jimin said looking at the paper in front of you and smiling,

"Dinner on me tonight?" You giggled looking up to see his shocked expression and he nodded.

Taehyung:

Taehyung was taking you out for a lunch date, you were spending the day together since he had at the week off from work,

"I just have to stop by work and then I'm all yours." You told Taehyung as you drove in the direction of your company building, hoping no one would make a big deal about you being inside of the building for the first time in two weeks. You and Tae had been dating for around six months and you still hadn't told him you were a billionaire and owned multiple companies, you didn't like to make it well known. Thinking people would use you for money but you knew Tae wasn't like that since he was an Idol he was probably thinking the same thing whenever he met someone new.

"That's fine, you have to do what your boss says right." He said with a small chuckle as you pulled up outside the huge 20 stories high building,

"Good morning Miss Y/L/N," The valet said as you handed him the car to your black Audi TT and smiled at him, walking through the double doors with Tae. The first thing Taehyung noticed was how everyone in the lobby fell into silence when you walked through, greeting you with pleasant smiles and then staring down at the floor until you passed them.

"What's their problem?" Tae asked as you stepped into one of the main elevators, pushing the top floor button and waiting. A small man wearing a black suit came running in holding a clipboard,

"Morning Miss, these are awaiting your signature and your mum called. Wants to set up a dinner with you and Mr Taehyung." You nodded and signed the papers as you continued going up to your office.

Tae was stood in your office, his mouth hanging open as he watched people rushing into the office,

"Sit Tae, do you want something to drink while you wait?" You questioned as you sat down behind the white desk and looked over the paperwork, your assistant running in with a tray of snacks and bottled water.

"No, I'm okay thanks." He told the assistant who handed you a bottle of water and more papers.

"So I guess I should tell you that I own the company?" You asked him not tearing your eyes away from the red folder in front of you, something boring inside of it about market growth and something you weren't really in the mood for.

"Yeah, maybe." He chuckled sitting on the sofa and watching as you came out from behind the desk and sat in front of him.

"So I own the company, yep. That's that, let's go get lunch." You said trying to get out of the conversation you were going to have. It always seemed to go the same way with all your ex's. They would get creeped out by the power you had and leave, or they would try and worm their way further into your life so they could get money.

"I knew you worked for a company but you own it?" You nodded and the door opened, another assistant stood there waving at you, you smiled at her and she walked through the door. Standing in front of you and Taehyung and smiling at you,

"PR is taking care of the article of you and Mr Taehyung, is there anything else I can do for you today?" You shook your head at her before jumping up and running over to your desk,

"I got you this!" You yelled bringing out a wrapped box and handing it to her,

"Enjoy your honeymoon sweetie." You told her as she thanked you and walked back out of the room. Taehyung was smirking at you from on the sofa, leaning back and admiring you.

"I think I should start coming to work with you like you do with me." He said as you sat back down on the sofa staring at him as you waited for the next person to walk in, you didn't have to go into the building much but when you did it was a never-ending string of people all walking in and out of the room.

"No, the press would have a field day." You joked leaning forward and taking a bottle of water from the table and sipping on it,

"We should get going though if we're going to make lunch." You told him, wanting to leave the office as soon as possible before your brother or mother got wind that you'd come in and decided it was their turn to meet Taehyung. You'd been putting that meeting off since the moment they found out you were dating, always coming up with some lame excuse as to why you couldn't make dinner or that Tae was really busy and wouldn't be able to make it.

"You're scared your mum will come aren't you?" He laughed as you pushed him out of your office and into the elevator, people looking up as they heard you giggling and smiling brightly. In all the years of you working there, they'd never seen you so happy and they were glad that their boss was finally finding the time to make herself happy and to take care of herself.

Jungkook:

Jungkook and you had only been dating three months when you decided to tell him what you did for a living and he didn't believe you. Always cracking jokes about how you were this ''Big billionaire that owned ''multiple companies''. Stating if it was true you'd be in all the big magazines and would be followed around just as much as he was, which was true and it did happen. You just had a fantastic PR team who took care of everything you didn't want leaking out into the press.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow." You said as you got to Jungkook's apartment door, you'd spent the entire day together and were planning another day together tomorrow. The romance was fresh and neither of you wanted to be away from each other longer than you had to be.

"Sure." He said as he walked over to you, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you, both of you wanted to stay there all night but you had a late dinner with a board of directors and Jungkook had practice with the guys since he'd been putting it off all week.

"I'll see you in the morning." You giggled pushing him away and leave the apartment, walking over to your car and starting it up

(X)

The next morning you'd been debating with yourself the whole time, deciding it was time to prove to Jungkook that you were what you said you were. You grabbed the keys to you red Lamborghini Adventador and headed out to the route you would take to Jungkook's apartment, ignoring the stares you got from people as you pulled out of your garage and onto the road.

"Holy shit," Jungkook said with his mouth hanging open a little as you pulled onto his drive, he came down the steps from his apartment door to take a closer look.

"Where did you even get this?"

"My garage." You told him as you turned off the engine and got out of the car, you and Jungkook had never hung out at your house because it was a huge give away to you being a millionaire.

"You own it?" You nodded and stared at him, he looked like he was still having trouble believing you were what you said you were.

"If I show you my house will you believe me?" He nodded and you smirked, opening the car doors so it formed a scissor effect and he scoffed at you,

"Now you're just showing off." You winked at him and started up the car, taking the same route home only this time Jungkook noticed how everyone turned to stare and that there were in fact paparazzi outside your house waiting for you to arrive home.

"Morning Ted, new camera?" You asked the cameraman politely as you got out of the car, Jungkook stared as you made casual conversation with the paparazzi and smiled at you.

"This way." You said to him, pulling him up to the double doors and opening them, walking him through into the entryway of your apartment.

"Fuck." He whispered in shock as you hung up your jacket and walked further into the room.

"I gave cook the day off but I've been learning, do you want something to eat?" You asked him, walking through to the kitchen. You were worried he was going to run for it, a lot of your previous partners did. They would figure out you were a powerful millionaire with cars and a big house and want to leave, it was too intimidating to some people but Jungkook didn't see it that way. He saw it as you weren't someone who was going to use him for his fame or his money and it meant that you truly liked him for who he was and he was over the moon with it. Rushing over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest and chuckling as you giggled at him.

"You're such a child." You giggled to him as he span you around in the kitchen your legs dancing in the air as he did so,

"We should order a pizza in and watch movies on your sofa." You shook your head at him,

"Why on the sofa when I have a home cinema system." You giggled pulling him in the direction of your home cinema room, the room was lined with giant comfortable chairs and a huge screen was at the front,

"It's loaded with every film you could think of." You told him as you handed him the remote and went to find your phone to call for a pizza for you both.

Tagline: 

@yourguessisasgoodasminemate @yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @kpopfanfictionhoes @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @callingmyangel @ficdump101 @babymochichimmy

[apenapaperandadoofus]

Can you make a list on who you think is the most to least reliable of the RFA (+ Minor Trio if you want!) when it comes to pets 👀

gasp you know what yes (I've been wanting to make some lists for a while -maybe least to most bottom of each of the RFA characters LMAO-)

MysMe characters least to most reliable with a pet and what pet would they have:

11. Rika

LMFAO bet ya didn't expect that did ya!? Nah you probably did, anyway the reason why she's the least reliable for a pet it's kinda obvious, first of all, she would refuse to get her pet treatment when it almost turns blind and ma'am? Please help your dog???

Also if at any time the pet dies she would start another cult so let's not risk it with her. Instead of an animal maybe give her a rock instead pfttt (actually wait-no she'd probably throw it at our poor mint coloured hair boy just give her a dog plushy it smth she can't be trusted with alive things)

10. Saeyoung

You may be asking me, Amanda, why, Saeyoung absolutely loves cats he'd be a cool cat dad, and yes, you're right. But you also don't understand that this man's love for cats goes SO far that he will actually cause chaos all around him. He'd give the cat SO many treats, not only that, but he'd also cuddle them, and that's nice tight? Wrong. This man will try to stretch the cat, grab it and twirl it around, reenact the lion king and do the 'Simba' bit and everything. Not only that he'd completely use it to prank Zen and everyone else, overall, he'd be a great pet owner but it'd be too much chaos so let's just stick with loving cats from afar.

Also I feel like he'd get a snake for some reason, and he'd dress them up in like a fancy bowtie a hat, or an iguana or chameleon y'know? He'd go for the amphibian type :o

9. Ray

I love our boy, I really do, but honestly how do you expect him to take care of a dog if he can't take care of himself. 😢

Actually scratch that, if he had a dog he would definitely love it and spoil it, and we live for that but also:

honey focus on yourself too we don't want you to D I E

Maybe give him a hamster or smth, while he's hacking away and watching MC in their room the hamster will be spinning on it's wheel super happy

Or he can have some cute fishes 🐟🐠

And like his brother, because great minds think alike, maybe a chameleon. He'd be pretty scared of them at first but he found one under some flowers and decided to rescue it, and now he sort of ended up adopting it :D

Although I find it pretty unlikely that he'll get a pet, he's more into flowers anyway

(OH WAIT WHAT ABOUT BEES? YA LIKE JAZZ -im sorry pft but now I need to see Ray in like those bee farmer dress things lmao)

8. Zen

I could see him as the pet owner that takes their dogs on walks and such, but honestly, if he's allergic to cats he's probably allergic to other animals too, at least some with a lot of hair! Although I feel like he'd get one of those big dogs and he'd go on runs with it all the time. The dog would be like the ones that are mostly thought of as super dangerous or aggressive but it turns out they're a sweetheart. Either that or a poodle 🐩💀 (but like I said, he's probably allergic to animals with lots of hair.)

HOW ABOUT A PARROT? ZEN COULD TOTALLY PRACTICE HIS LINES AND SONGS WITH THE PARROT AJDNFBFB

7. Jihyun

Jihyun would be pretty good as a pet owner but honestly he'd be super nervous at everything at first. Welcome to the Jihyun apologizing to his pet show akdjdn. But would we trust him with a pet? He wasn't really able to take care of two teenage boys -although it was mostly because he was in a toxic relationship 💀

When he has his sight problems he could totally get those helper dogs? (Forgot what they're called I'm sorry T_T)

He'd probably get a more chill pet tho, maybe a cat (he probably likes them a lot too! Also they're pretty calming.) So he could have like the guide dog and a small kitty too!

6. Jaehee

She'd be an awesome pet mom lol. I don't think she'd get a cat after being traumatized from pet-sitting Elizabeth. Maybe she could get like a turtle 🐢

Or maybe a rat to reenact Ratatouille lmaoo

She wouldn't get big pets unless the MC wanted to adopt something (and if they're a couple, we all know what people who want kids but can't or just aren't able to adopt at the moment, do, they get DOGS AND CATS!!!)

So honestly she'd start understanding why Jumin pampers Elly so much, since your dogs basically your child now PFTTT

Maybe a bunny too? I could see her working with the bunny on her head lmao and that's adorable

Omg imagine her with a SNAKE, HOW BADASS WOULD THAT BE???

5. Suit Saeran

You may be wondering once again, WHAT AND WHY

Let me explain.

Suit would dffinetly get those scary and big dogs that have spiky collars and everything, and he'd probably call him something like Killer or Skull Destroyer, or maybe Blade lmao

And we all know he'd die for his dog. It's the only one he can trust ajdhdbdbd

He'd be like the bad boys that walk around with their dog everywhere growling at people (not just the dog, the two of them)

And "Spike" would be so well taken care of. Believers have to start doing draws to see who feeds the monster dog that always bites them PFTTT

The dog would also dffinetly know how to fight. It'd be cute if the only person he likes appart from Saeran tho is MC hehe

AND you cannot change my mind in this, ever since Saeran got "Dark Knight" (I'm experimenting with the dog names pfft) he's shown him a picture of Saeyoung and taught him to absolutely hate his guts, so Seven, buddy, maybe don't get to close to them lol

AND the backstory for this dog is that Saeran found him under some bushes, hurt, and the dog reminded him of when he was younger, so he took him in and that's how the doggie came to be :3

3. GE Saeran

Idk, he'd also get the normal-ish animals, like a bunny or a cat (he'd like how calming they are.)

He'd be awesome with animals too!

Also uhm, someone please draw him as a farmer AJDHDHD lmaoo that's the first thing that came to mind 😂

He'd be the person that likes animals but like....other people's animals? He'd love to see Elizabeth and such, but he wouldn't really want to have one (unless MC wanted to of course.) It's not that he doesn't like them, it's mostly because he feels more comfortable with other people's pets ajdjdbd

Also he doesn't want them to ruin the garden oop

3. In a tie with Saeran, Yoosung

I forgot about him and didn't want to change the numbers lmao

Yoosung is a vet, c'mon he knows how to deal with animals!

At first he'd be so freaking nervous and would be just like a helicopter parent, making sure the doggie is alright and such, but then he gets the hang of it and he's perfect.

We all know we got a bunny with him too in his GE :D so maybe a dog and a bunny! He'd have more than one pet I'll tell ya that.

2. Jumin

Listen he's the king alright? He pampers his cat SO much, and you can just TELL how much he loves Elly. We all stan a man that loves animals.

He'd probably get some exotic pets too, maybe a few horses and birds that are really exotic or something

But can you imagine him with like....a tiger PFT

He'd be like: omg this is a cat but bigger let me have one

It'd be like Sebastian from Black Butler lol

He'd also be up to a dog, it'd take a bit of convincing but if MC wants one then he'd snap his fingers and get them one immediately (I love this man he's so ADORABLE) and then they'd have two children and Zen wouldn't have to worry about just Elizabeth

1. Vanderwood

Yes! The one! The only!

He's the only one appart from Jaehee that has more than one braincell PFTTTTT

He'd have a pretty big and scary dog that would've an absolute sweetheart when you get to know them. Everyone at first is scared but the dog just wants to sleep and eat, that's all.

Vanderwood is super responsible, I mean after Saeyoung I'm sure a dog would be nothing. He'd also compare Seven to his dog lol "Not even Capitan America is that dirty!"

"you named your dog Capitan America...?"

"shut the hell up or I'm tasing you."

His dog would spend all day sleeping. Sometimes Vanderwood will take him on walks, and they really enjoy that time together.

Vanderwood romance route? Uh, no he's far too in love with his dog to be doing anything else PFT

And you cannot once again change my mind on this:

He talks to his dog when he's alone.

He will tell him about his day as he cooks or does the laundry. He'd be in an apron making some dinner and be all like:

"Ugh, today I had to take care of that no-good for nothing guy again. It's incredible how messy his house can get in just a matter of hours! Not only that, he wasn't eating properly again, that idiot. I had to practically drag him out of his chair and make him eat some food. Not that I'm worried. It'd just be a hassle to have to find another hacker as good as him. Seriously that guy...."

And the dog would be like excuse me do I look like your therapist please just give me food lolol

[mosaicofdreamsanddragons]

Slow Fade

For @ninja-knox-ur-sox-off‘s pirate au.

Find on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27570436

It was the customer service that broke him.

That’s what Pigsy told MK when asked how he became the chef on a pirate crew, glaring at Tang who was muffling a laugh. It was a true statement.

But it also wasn’t.

Once, many years ago he’d had his own restaurant. It wasn’t much, just a noodle store by the docks, filled with the everyday bustle of sailors, merchants, and other such people a port town attracted. His customers had barely had the room to sit down on good days. But it had been his.

With the constant stream of ships brought many to his little stand hungry for something unlike the rations they’d lived off of on the sea, he was guaranteed at least a few people coming in even on his worst days. Even on days with low ship traffic, he’d always have at least one person in his store: Tang was a regular to put all regulars to shame, despite somehow never paying for his food.

He’d loved it, every part of it. So of course, it hadn’t lasted.

It had been a good day for customers. He’d actually had a line out the door and seating had been scarce. Tang still got in somehow chattering happily about the newest legend of the Monkey King. Pigsy’d had his hands full making noodles and busing tables as fast as one Pig could when he heard a commotion.

“A bowl of noodles. The best you have,” came a pompous voice. Pigsy glanced up to see a very well dressed man shove his way into the store, completely ignoring the line as he shoved his way into the counter.  

“We have a line,” said Pigsy.

“Excuse me?” the rich boy said. “I’m gracing your store because I’ve been told it’s got the best noodles this backwater island can give me. You should be grateful.”

“Grateful for business,” said Pigsy, “but in this backwater island we have things called lines. I simply do not have the room to seat you even if you were to be served now,” he waved his hand around the packed room. “That’s what a line is for.”

“Easily solved,” said the man. He turned to look directly at the customers seated at the high bar. It vacated. All but Tang. Sitting there calm as you please eating the noodles he always seemed to have but never seemed to pay for.

“Move,” the rich boy said. Tang didn’t even bother to look up from his bowl. The boy tried several more attempts to get Tangs attention, face turning a deeper and deeper shade of red until he’d shoved Tang bodily out of the chair.

Tang’s bowl had splattered all over the floor with a clang.

The boy sat down and turned his attention back towards the kitchen. “No problem,” he said before he realized the man he had been talking to was no longer present.

He didn’t even get a moment to register the location of the chef before Pigsy picked him bodily up and threw him from the shop unto the hard stone streets. The boy had been sputtering and yelling about vengeance before he’d left but not before yelling how Pigsy would regret this. It had been a sight Tang said. But Pigsy paid it no mind. He’d had more important things to deal with, like the rest of his customers. He hadn’t thought that boy a threat.

He’d been wrong.

The rich boy had turned out to be the new governor of the whole island. And apparently had nothing better to do then menace noodle shop owners.

Pigsy didn’t notice the drop in customers immediately. Ships still came and went bringing hungry sailors from far away. It wasn’t until a week later, when there had been no new ships coming in that he realized something.

There had been a lot less regulars.

He’d asked Tang if there was some event going on. Tang dropped his usual chatter about legendary pirates and sighed looking grimly at his reflection in his bowl. “I think they’re scared,” he said. “That boy you threw out? He was the new governor. In the last week he’s already dismissed and even executed people he dislikes. They say he’s cleaning up the rot of this town.”

“I fail to see what that has to do with me,” said Pigsy.

“You threw him out of the shop on his first day,” said Tang looking up to Pigsy, the glare of his glasses hiding his eyes, “Everyone things he’s going to come after you, to make a point about how he and by extension the empire are the power in this town.”

“If he really thinks he’s going to clean the corruption out of this town,” said Pigsy with a shrug. “Then he’s got better things to do beside pick on noodles shop owners.”

But that did not bring back his customers. With every new story about the new governor, he’d gotten less and less regulars. Worse was merchants were now deliberately not selling to him. The more honest ones told him he’d been blacklisted, and they just couldn’t afford drawing the ire of the governor and lose their businesses.

Then word started getting out to the sailors and soon even they weren’t coming to Pigsy’s shop. Tang would go out and try to catch them as they came off, directing them towards the stand but there were only so many he could catch, and soon after arrival those sailors would be greeted by gossip about the governor’s least favorite noodle shop.

Then the governor started banning people from going up to the sailors and solicitating them. He claimed it was a preventative measure against thieves. Tang said it was because he’d seen him win some customers over to Pigsy’s.

The only customer he had now was Tang. And it’s not like Tang had the money to keep the shop in business. Tang tried though, every day he’d come in with some new scheme or trick to pull in more customers but even that failed to fix the reality that was Pigsy’s ledger. With the amount of red in it, there really was only one thing left to do.

He plopped the noodle bowl down in front of Tang. “Eat up,” he said gruffly. “It’s on the house tonight.”

Tang looked up, “Pigsy, you can’t afford that.”

“Can’t afford it anyways,” he said. “I’ve been over the ledger. This is the last night we’ll be able to be open.”

Tang looked down at the bowl of noodles. Then he stood up. “If we’re going under,” he said. “Then we’re going to go under properly, with at least one customer.”

“Tang wait…” he called but it was to late. Tang had already stomped out the door with a determined look on his face.

Pigsy stared back down at the uneaten bowl of noodles. His last bowl, that he’d poured his heart and soul into, abandoned in an empty noodle store.

He should eat it, not let the last piece of his store sit on a counter getting cold. Tang would be out all night looking for customers that would never come and tomorrow they would close the shop. It would be a shame to waste it. This fancy meal he’d made for someone, anyone, else.

Eating it would mean he was truly out of business.

The bell of his shop chimed and Tang practically danced back in, trailed by a furry golden sailor. “Look what I found!” he said smugly. “A customer. One customer for our last night.”

The customer glanced around the room. “Nice place you have here,” he said and then his eyes fell on the bowl of noodles. “Already got my order up? Your service is amazing.”

Pigsy half expected Tang to protest when the customer sat down in his spot and ate the last bowl of noodles but instead he settled down next to him and called for some drinks. He starts to cheerfully regal their customer with tall tales of the legendary pirate captain the Monkey King. And Pigsy realized it had been a long time since he’d heard Tang tell any sort of story not tied to how he’d managed to get them customers today.

The stranger seemed to enjoy the tales almost more than Tang and the atmosphere of the little shop became warmer. Pigsy could almost pretend it was just any other late night before their troubles began.

The bell chimes again, and Pigsy looked up, half expecting another customer and wondering if he’d even have ingredients to make more noodles. But the man in question wasn’t here to eat. He glanced around the store with distain before saying, “Are you the owner of this establishment?”

“Yes,” said Pigsy, “What can I get for you?”

“You have received an invitation by the governor himself to join his kitchen staff,” he held out a paper to Pigsy. “Work begins at dawn.” Then he turned and walked out of the store only stopping at the door to say, “Don’t be late.”

“Promotion!” said the customer before he noticed grim look on Tang’s face.

“Don’t do it,” said Tang turning to face Pigsy. “That man hates you, he’s been trying to get rid of you for half a year!”

“I don’t exactly have much of a choice,” said Pigsy staring down at the empty sink. “I’ve checked around. No local business will hire me, to scared the governor will come after them. Short of getting on a ship, and all the ones that come through here are in his pocket and won’t let me on, this is the only option I have.”

“It’s a trap!” said Tang. “Either he’s going to make your life a living nightmare or he’s going to set you up for something worse!”

Pigsy closed his eyes. “I know,” he said. “But what else can I do?”

“Pigsy…,” began Tang.

“Excuse me,” he said and headed into the backroom. He needed time to confront his impending doom.

The next morning he arrived at the governor’s mansion’s kitchen entrance for work exactly fifteen minutes before dawn.

He was regulated to cleaning duty for a massive ball happening that night. That in itself wasn’t unusual, he was new after all, and it would be unlikely the cook would trust him with anything close to chopping for another year. But that set him on edge. The governor had systematically dismembered his business, his big finale couldn’t be something this normal.

So it didn’t really surprise him when he was bumped up from cleaning to serving for the party by special request of the governor himself.  

And it didn’t surprise him at all when said ball was filled with only the most annoying of party goers, who looked at service workers like they were the dirt beneath their shoes or furniture on the wall.

What did surprise him was Tang. Who had somehow gotten a job as a waiter.

“What are you doing here?’ he hissed at him.

Tang just flashed him a smile. “They were desperate for new help and I figured we’d go down together.” He leaned in and lowered his voice, “There’s one other thing…” He stopped suddenly and pulled himself away. “The governor’s coming. I’ve got to go. Don’t worry I got a plan.”

Pigsy watched his only ally in this world saunter off as the governor approached. He waltzed up with a lady on his arm and seemed content to hang out right next to where Pigsy was serving food and engage in conversation about how powerful he and his empire were and how those who lived here were nothing more than cultureless backwater fools who’d gotten to full of themselves after the last governor had been so lax…

Soon the governor ran out of people to talk to and turned to Pigsy, “Enjoying the new job I so generously provided?”

Pigsy kept his face neutral.

The governor leaned against the table between them. “You know, its polite to thank a new employer but I guess you wouldn’t know what was polite, given your general social awareness. You haven’t even apologized for how we met. Such rudeness. It’s understandable why you lost all your customers.”

Pigsy kept his face neutral.

“You must have relied on sailors for a good while there, as you held out longer than I expected once the townsfolk wised up. Honestly it has been infuriating trying to ruin you and that little friend of yours. But it doesn’t matter now does it? Now you’ve learned your place working for me.” Very slowly he raise his glass and dumped its contents onto Pigsy.

Pigsy kept his face neutral.

The governor smiled and then glanced off examining the now empty glass, until his eyes caught sight of Tang offering drinks to guests. “That little friend of yours, he’s a puzzle. I tried to scare him off but no no no, nothing seemed to faze him. Even offered him money to stop going to your store. And he refused. Something he desperately could not afford given his clothing or his previous lack of employment. How does a man such as him even stay fed anyways? Makes one wonder where the money comes from. Evidence enough for thievery. Men have been hanged for less…”

Pigsy’s neutral face cracked.

He wasn’t sure what he yelled at the man. He was certain it included a lot of very creative descriptors as all the anger that had been building towards this pompous petty child playing governor exited him at once. He shook the party to its very foundation and soon everyone was staring at them.

The governor was lying on the floor beside the upturned table when Pigsy’s head cleared. He seemed scared but he smiled up and Pigsy, “You are going to hang for this.”

Might as well go the full nine yards. Pigsy picked up one of the still full glasses and poured it on the governor.

“Might as well hang together then?” said a voice behind him. He turned to see Tang and the customer from last night, now dressed fancily with a mask, hat, and cutlass…the Monkey King, infamous pirate captain.

Before Pigsy could voice his shock at the situation or interrogate Tang, the Monkey King turned to the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you to the robbery tonight. Alas, I must be going as my ship departs on the hour. Do inform the rest of the navy their precious governor will be coming with me and not to fire lest they damage him. Now, I and my associates will be taking our leave.” He nodded to Tang who rushed forward to tie up the governor. Then he turned to Pigsy. “So what do you say? Care to join my crew as the new ships cook?”

Pigsy looked at Tang who was grinning, over to the tied up governor, and then back at the Monkey King. “As I’m currently out of employment at the moment,” he said, “such an offer sounds lovely.” Then he picked the governor up and followed the Monkey King out the hole that hadn’t been there before he’d started yelling.

Tang noticed his confusion and always down to explain something said, “You probably didn’t notice during all the yelling but we made the hole. Oh and we already loaded a ton of loot onto the ship but we have to hurry if we want to escape before the navy gets here. The Monkey King wasn’t originally going to rob the party for anything more than a hostage until he met us. We made this plan last night right after you got the letter…”

Pigsy stared at him, “This was your plan?”

Tang shrugged as they dashed onto a ship. The Monkey king headed over to the steering wheel, while Tang grabbed the ropes for the sails. “Joining the Monkey King’s Pirate Crew!” grinned Tang unable to contain his excitement, “the best plan I’ve ever made!”

“Grabbing the governor was his idea,” said the Monkey King from above.

Pigsy sighed and dropped the governor down onto the side of the boat. “What are we going to do with him once we’ve outrun the navy?”

“Well I was thinking you could come up with that,” said Tang. “He’s been bothering you and all.”

That was why three months later the governor was found seven islands over standing in a line that tracked back throughout the city. When asked how he’d gotten there he’d turned pale and muttered something incoherent about pirates and noodles.

[artificialqueens]

Shining Just the Way I Like (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: Denali works as a roller-skating waitress, and Rosé catches her eye.

A/N: So I saw Denali’s runway, and then gnesis0204 posted about a fic based on it, and somehow the inspiration hit me and this happened today. It’s very fluffy and I really hope you like it!! A million thank you’s to Writ for beta-ing and FaceTiming me to scream with their full reaction. Title from Levitating by Dua Lipa.

The West-Burner Best Burger diner has a sprawling parking lot big enough for dinosaurs to roam, and each of the carhop spots is full, beat-up cars and fancy show-off ones alike all waiting for the golden fries and juicy burgers and thick milkshakes made by the cooking staff inside the brilliant red—well, Denali just has to trust Kahmora that it’s red, due to her slight color-blindness—and white diner. Denali readjusts the red plastic tray, checks for any maniac drivers, and pushes off across the lot, her skates gliding.

The owners, Nina and Tina, are sisters who love a good vintage vibe, and it’s why Denali is roller-skating across the blacktop, her red-and-white striped dress fluttering around her. Being a waitress—let alone one on skates—isn’t always ideal, with the customers who complain that what they ordered is somehow not what they want, or take the dress as an excuse to hit on her, but it pays more than typical waitressing jobs because of the skating factor. Not to mention most customers give her good tips—usually out of pity for the goosebumps on her arms on cold days, or awe over her getting the food there smoothly—and it’s extra skating practice before she can hit the ice for her real skating practice. Not ideal, but not horrible either, and as the sun warms her skin and she skates away from a minivan full of screaming kids with a five-dollar bill tucked in her apron, today feels like a good day.

She rolls inside the back door, nodding a thanks at Symone for holding it open. The inside of the diner is full with the lunch rush, the mix of indoor seating and carhop spots–the only ones around since that Sonic closed–meaning that Nina and Tina have one of the most successful restaurants in the state, with the polished plaque of excellence by the door to prove it.

“Hey, Denali!” Kahmora waves from the kitchen door, quickly catching herself before the water in her hand spills. She’s part of the inside wait staff; Denali’s attempt to teach her skating had only resulted in both of them going down in a mess of skates and scrapes, Nina pouncing on them with her first aid kit.

“Hi, Kahmora.”

“There are so many good-looking people in here today!” she says, cheerfully walking over to Denali.

“Besides me!” Symone calls from the door.

Kahmora rolls her eyes. “Anyway, I’ve flirted with two different tables so far. I’ll be getting that coin today.”

“And maybe a phone number,” Denali says.

“God, I hope.” Kahmora grins and crosses her fingers, and then she’s off, turning to a table with her wide smile shining.

Denali grins. Kahmora is excellent at charming customers, and it works to her advantage as she rakes in the tips. Denali doesn’t have much chance to do that part at the carhops. She just brings people their food and waits for them to give the tray back; there’s no twirling her hair around while she waits for them to order, no drawing hearts on the napkins. It’s straightforward, and it leaves room in her brain to run through her skating routine.

Nina hands her another tray, and Denali glides outside. The feel of roller-skates over blacktop is nowhere as smooth as sharp ice skates over fresh ice, and the loud chatting in cars she passes is a far cry from the quiet ice rink, but Denali can’t resist a little twirl here and there like she’s on the ice, relishing in their perfection even if she doesn’t have to be perfect out here.

She pulls to a stop by a black car, Lady Gaga trickling softly through the open window. There’s a woman in the passenger seat and one in the back, but Denali can’t look away from the beautiful driver. She has soft pink hair and bright eyes that look green one second and hazel the next. She smiles, and Denali almost drops the tray.

“Wh—what can I get you?” Denali asks, because that’s the first thing that pops into her brain.

“Um … I think we already ordered?” The pink-haired woman says, and Denali remembers that she’s quite literally holding a tray with their order on it.

“Right. My bad.” Denali stammers as she slips the tray through the window, cheeks as pink as the woman’s hair.

“No worries.” There’s that smile again, and Denali’s knees wobble like they’ve forgotten the steadiness years of skating gave them. “I get flustered around pretty girls too.”

“No kidding,” mutters the brunette in the backseat, reaching for her food.

“Eat your chicken tenders, Jan,” the pink-haired woman snaps.

“Well, if Lagoona didn’t steal my honey mustard like she stole my shirt last week—“

Denali holds in a laugh as a packet of sauce is launched into the backseat, with a snarled promise that the brunette will get her damn shirt back.

“Don’t mind them,” the driver says, a warm pink clinging to her cheeks too.

“Of course.” Denali pauses as her heart skips a beat, grasping on to any bit of courage she has. “What was that you were saying about me being pretty?”

“Actually, I was saying that I’m pretty and I don’t blame you for being flustered.” The woman in the passenger seat makes a gagging noise, and the driver elbows her before giving another smile, glint in her eyes making Denali flash her dimples. “But you’re pretty too.”

“I know.” Denali grins as she twirls brown hair around her finger, because why not? Those hazel-green eyes are locked on her, the driver leaning forward so far she’s almost out the window, hanging on every word Denali says.

She laughs, and Denali would do anything to hear it again.

“I’m Rosé.”

“Denali.”

“Denali,” she repeats softly, and it sounds nicer on her lips than on Denali’s own, like Rosé is treasuring getting to say it. “So, you—you really skate and stuff?”

“Yep.” Denali flexes her ankle, modeling her skates like she’s on the ice, even if Rosé can’t see. “I’m an ice skater, actually.”

“Wow.”

Denali snorts. “Yeah.”

“Are you—“

“Do you work here? I need more ketchup, and don’t think I won’t call a manager.” Denali spins around to find the source of the noise: an angry woman stalking over to Denali like a lion cornering its prey, her minivan door still open.

Denali winces, and Rosé’s face softens in sympathy. “I better let you go,” she says sadly, passing over the tray. “Good luck with her.”

“Thanks.” Denali sighs.

“Oh, and this is for you.” She hands Denali some folded bills with one last smile. “I’ll see you, okay?”

“See you.” The woman’s lion jaws are about to snap around Denali, and she quickly leaves the car and intercepts her. She doesn’t even look at the tip Rosé gave her until she’s on break, and is shocked to find fifteen dollars. A fifteen dollar tip on a twenty-five dollar order is–well, Denali can’t do math but she knows it’s a lot; it’s more than she’d get from four cars put together. Not to mention the brilliant smiles Rosé kept giving her, worthy of being a tip themselves. It’s definitely a good day, one clouded over with cotton candy pink hair.

—-

Days go by, and Denali is so busy scanning the parking lot for any hint of pink hair that she actually trips on a rock and falls one day. Luckily there’s no food in her hands, and she brushes off everyone’s concerns, commanding her brain to focus on work instead of women with pink hair.

Maybe Rosé thought about it and decided she doesn’t like Denali after all, will do anything she can to avoid the diner. Maybe it was all just a joke from the start. But Denali doesn’t think so. Rosé’s eyes never left her, even with the chaos in her car, like she didn’t want to miss a moment of Denali. So when is she coming back? When will Denali see that smile again?

It’s been a week, and Denali’s about to skate into the breakroom when Nina corners her, a strawberry milkshake in one hand and a chocolate in the other. “Denali, can you bring these out to number two quick?”

She doesn’t want to turn down Nina, so she just nods. Number two is the only carhop spot filled, so there’s no chance of other customers chasing her down. It’s 3:00, that calm period in between the lunch rush and dinner rush, with just stragglers now and then stopping for a snack or shake. The car’s window rolls down to reveal the pink hair that hasn’t left Denali’s mind in a week.

“You’re back!”

“I’m back.” Rosé’s smile outshines the sun, and Denali grins too.

Her warm palms might melt the milkshakes, and she hands them to Rosé. Denali notices finally that the car is empty, and confusion sparks in her. Why did Rosé order two milkshakes for herself, and why is she sitting there holding them both, opening and closing her mouth like she wants to say something?

“Two milkshakes for you?” Denali asks. “I’m not judging, just–”

Rosé bites her lip. “Actually, one is for you.”

Denali’s mouth hangs open, and as much as she wants to fly to the passenger side of the car, her legs are a bit too jelly-like to support her.

Rosé’s eyes widen with worry. “Shit, you like chocolate, right? I just guessed. I mean, who doesn’t like chocolate–”

“I love chocolate,” Denali says, heart melting at Rosé’s sigh of relief. She rolls to the passenger door and slips onto the seat, and she’s so close to Rosé. There’s no car door in between them anymore. Instead, they’re both in this car together, and Rosé smells like vanilla and her eyes are even brighter than Denali thought, and she never wants to leave this car.

They clink their plastic cups and sip their drinks, and Denali spends each second of her break taking in all she can of Rosé, from how she loves to sing and was born in Scotland, all the way to how she slurps up every last drop of her milkshake and always keeps her hand close to Denali’s.

When Denali’s alarm goes off, telling her to get back to work, she chugs the last of her shake and sighs. “This was really nice,” she says.

“Yeah,” Rosé agress. She raises an eyebrow. “I think it needed to be longer, don’t you?”

Denali’s heart flutters. “A lot longer.”

“Does this Saturday at seven work? It can be as long as we want.”

Denali doesn’t even hesitate. “It’s a date.”

[frasermacintosh]

IT’S MY PARTY AND I’LL CRY IF I WANT TO → STRAWBERRY LEMONADE

TAGGING → Fraser Macintosh & Lemon La Bouff ( @lemonlabouff )

TIMELINE → August 14th, 2021

SETTING → Lemon and Carter La Bouff’s 20th Birthday Party

SUMMARY → It’s the La Bouff twins’ 20th birthday party, and the speak-easy 20′s theme is perfection. Everything goes according to plan until Lemon has her first kiss during a party game of all things, and she and one of her oldest friends end up shoved in a closet so that, thankfully, the tears she sheds afterwards aren’t seen by the public. When you play a mashup of Suck N Blow and 7 Minutes in Heaven, anything can happen.

Fraser would've been excited to attend Lemon and Carter's birthday no matter what, but the speakeasy 20's theme had definitely been a huge draw; it gave him a great excuse to dress up in a plaid suit with a bowtie, suspenders, and even a hat, even though that last one didn't stay on for long. After all, the Macintosh hair was too beautiful to hide. It wasn't until a big circle of people signing up to play Suck N Seven Minutes started forming though that his jacket was also tossed to the side. He would've been surprised that something like a kissing game was happening at a party of the La Bouff's, but then again, the party had been advertised as debaucherous, so why not?

He shuffled into place along with everyone else, bumping shoulders with the birthday girl as he did so. She started off the game, facing away from Fraser and passing on the playing card to the player on her other side, and from there, one person to the next passed on the card using only their lips. This version had a fun twist, where whichever pair fumbled the card had to spend seven minutes in the nearest closet, doing whatever they wanted. Fraser couldn't help grinning as the game continued, his eyes scanning the circle excitedly to see who'd be the first two who dropped the ball. When it was some people halfway across the circle from them, he joined in with everyone else laughing or jeering as the two headed off to the aforementioned closet.

"I'm sure I'm like the millionth person to tell you this party is awesome," Fraser laughed, turning to Lemon to make some conversation while someone nearby counted down seven minutes. "How many more games like this are there going to be? Because I didn't exfoliate my lips for nothing."

As much as Lemon liked to believe that every party she and Carter had ever thrown were the most perfect events to ever be curated by “visionaries such as themselves”, she was absolutely certain that they all vastly paled in comparison to their 1920’s themed 20th birthday party. The La Bouffs had really splashed out on giving the twins the perfect vintage speakeasy experience right down to a live band playing modern music in the style of music from the 1920s and a bar that served real moonshine cocktails “for the guests over 21”.

Plus everyone was actually more than keen to go along with the recommended vibe of debaucherous, which was perfect considering Lemon had no intention on actually participating in any of the risque games she’d come up with to give the party that trashy great gatsby 2013-esque vibe herself. The closest she planned to actually participate was by sitting in the circle for  Suck N Seven minutes and daintily sip bourbon from the fancy flask she’d bought to wear in the garter that had come with her glittering white flapper dress while everyone else did all the kissing and lord knows what else in the closet. She’d even specifically practiced the game enough times at home alone to ensure that she wouldn’t accidentally slip up and have to kiss anyone.

“More like the millionth and first person to tell be how great this party is, but feel free to say it more times.” Lemon said, dramatically flipping her hair over her shoulder as she jokingly basked in the praise. “There are a few more games coming. Do you have any one in particular you want to kiss tonight? I’m sure I could rig one of them to work out in your favor.”

"Am I also the millionth and first person to tell you how much this look suits you then?" Fraser tried again cheekily; it was true, Lemon in that dress with her hair flung over her shoulder was basically an art piece. "Because I thought I looked good but you somehow almost look as good as me. Kudos." Maybe by the end of her birthday, he'd tell her that she looked even better than him, but that felt unnecessarily kind, especially when the present he had brought her would probably put everyone else's to shame.

He considered her question for a few more moments, then shook his head. "Nah, not really. I'm an equal opportunity kisser. After all, luck works in mysterious ways. Everyone here deserves the chance. Thanks, though. What about you? Any games rigged in particular for the birthday girl? You can tell me, I can keep a secret," Fraser joked. He was pretty sure that the answer was no, but ribbing Lemon was always fun. It was definitely more fun than waiting for the seven minutes to be up.

“Probably! I do look like such an amuse-gueule, don’t I?” Lemon struck a couple of silly poses to showcase how great she looked before elbowing Fraser hard in the arm. “Dream on, Chere. There isn’t a person here tonight that could ever hope to outshine me and as cute as your bowtie is, you could never.”

Even though Lemon knew full well that Fraser knew her well enough to know that she’d never rig a game so she’d have to do anything with any of her party guests, she couldn’t help but meaningfully look over at Romeo Dubois and let out an exaggerated sigh. Despite having ice in his wine like the grossest trainwreck alive, Lemon really understood how Gatsby must’ve felt staring out at Daisy’s green light, so close but so far away from what he wanted the most. “You already know my biggest secret and unfortunately that’s something I can’t even rig.” Looking away from Romeo before she felt anything other than complete happiness over her success of a birthday party, Lemon pulled the flask out of her garter and took a sip before offering it to Fraser. “Want some?”

"I don't know what an amuse-guele is but if that means that you look like you showered today, sure," Fraser joked, underplaying how gorgeous his friend was partially for humor but also because compliments had to be worked for. When she elbowed him, he gripped his arm and let out an exaggerated "Ow!" and laughed to cover up the fact that it actually hurt a little bit. "Hey, don't damage the goods! I get that your beauty is feeling threatened but bruising me won't make me less awesome."

Fraser fought the urge to roll his eyes so hard at Lemon's theatrics that his eyes actually strained. He knew she had a crush on Romeo but that he didn't mean he liked it. The dude was weird and somehow let the fact that one of the coolest girls alive was into him just pass him by. "Yeah, well, it's his loss. Chalk it up to bad taste -- because seriously, who drinks wine with ice?" Fraser asked, his nose wrinkling.

He burst out into a smile at the sight of the flask and nodded. "Fuck yeah! Now it's a party!" Fraser wasn't sure what was in it but any alcohol was better than none. "Cheers to you, birthday girl! May no one make a baby in the closet of your party," he joked as he took a hearty sip and the door of the closet opened and the couple came back out, visibly rumpled.

“It’s french for party snack, you imbecile.” Lemon laughed, rolling her eyes in reaction to Fraser’s antics. “Must I remind you that denial is not only a river in Egypt.  I could never feel threatened by you, but especially not tonight. Not even Snow White herself could convince me that I’m not the best looking person here.”

Lemon wrinkled her nose a little in distaste, because really who DID drink wine with ice in it? But refused to actually comment on the matter because in her opinion it was rather distasteful to secretly diss the one you love, no matter how bad his taste really was.  

“Oh disgusting, don’t jinx my party!” Lemon squealed, snagging her flask back before realizing that the closet couple had come out and definitely had been doing more than just perusing the coats in there. Once the couple sat back down, the person that had dropped the card smugly passed it on to the next person and the game began again where they’d left off. Lemon elbowed Fraser one last time for good measure. “If someone gets knocked up in there, I’m directing them right to you to blame.”

"Don't call me an imbelice, ya dobber," Fraser laughed right back, shaking his head at her. He wanted to argue further, but the truth was that Snow White herself couldn't hold a candle to Lemon tonight, and it wasn't just her look. It was how excited she was for her party written all over her face. All he really could say was, "Historically, it'd be the Magic Mirror trying to convince you, not Queen White, but if you say so, birthday girl."

Fraser tried his hardest not to spit out any of the alcohol as the flask got snatched away, and his forehead crumpled in confusion. "Hey!" he blurted, swallowing hard. "You better let me get another sip later, that was actually pretty good shit." He fought the urge to elbow Lemon back, not wanting to leave the birthday girl bruised. "If someone gets knocked up in here, it's entirely a result of your debaucherous theme, not because of anything I did! If you direct them to me, I'm going to encourage them to name the baby Lemon. Luckily it works for whatever gender."

There was a close call between two party-goers with the card but with some crouching, they were able to keep the card going until it got closer to Fraser. He took it from the girl on one side of him and winked at her, and when she gave him a flirty face back, it made him think that maybe she was someone worth talking to after this game was over. After all, it was a party! It was the perfect time to talk to a new beautiful girl. He turned to Lemon with the card, but then a chuckle that was stuck in the back of his throat from flirting with the other girl disrupted the surface tension and he felt his top lip connect to Lemon's.

His eyes opened wide in surprise but as the card dropped, he let himself turn the lip touch into a slight smooch, because why not? It was a party! And it may have just been a peck but it sure was fun, especially as everybody ooooohed and awwwwed and pushed them to the closet, opening the door for them and slamming it shut, leaving them alone in near darkness.

“Don’t be an imbecile then.” Lemon responded breezily, waving away the semantics of his response away with another eyeroll and a flip of her hand. Fraser clearly knew what she meant so who cared if she hadn’t said it quite right.

Lemon grinned  at Fraser’s protest when she took her flask back. She’d “borrowed” it from her grandfather’s personal stash and it was easily the most expensive and best tasting alcohol there. “The theme is not debauchery. The theme is 1920s speakeasy, the suggested vibe is debaucherous, there’s a difference. You’re the one actively speaking a baby into existence on them, so if you’re going to encourage them to name it Lemon, I’m going to tell them to make the middle name Strawberry. Then it’ll have all the correct acknowledgments attached to it and it’ll match.”

Lemon watched the game go around in amusement, at least until it got closer to her and the amusement turned into focused determination to not drop it on her turn. Luckily…or rather... Unluckily, she didn’t have a thing to worry about on her turn because instead of the cool touch of the card pressing against her lips, it was the warm lips of one of her oldest friends.

Lemon felt like her blood was turning to ice water in her veins as Fraser made it more of a kiss than just an itsy bitsy gross lip touch they could spend the next seven minutes in the closet giggling about. It was officially her first kiss and NOT the way it was supposed to go. After backing out of kissing Myles earlier in the year, Lemon had decided that her first kiss would be strictly reserved for the boy she actually loved and as much as she loved Fraser as a friend, he was simply not Romeo.

As soon as they got shoved in the closet Lemon had no idea what to do other than burst into tears. Not loudly in case anyone close could hear them but enough to make it more than clear to Fraser that absolutely nothing in the in the closet would be matching the aforementioned debaucherous party vibe.

"Lemon Strawberry. Sounds delicious... and like they'll be teased for the rest of their life," Fraser laughed, faux-shuddering at the very thought. "They might as well go by Strawberry Lemonade or something else that sounds like it's from a children's television show." He was probably thinking about it too much and he wondered if maybe they were talking a baby into existence; he decided that if they did, he wouldn't feel guilty. It'd just be further proof of how awesome he was, that he could make a baby without having to be physically involved at all.

Unfortunately for him, something was about to happen to make him feel solidly un-awesome. He didn't think a kiss between friends could possibly be a bad thing, especially when that friend was as cool as Lemon usually was, but by the time they got pushed into the closet, it was obvious that she didn't share that sentiment. She was crying like her husband had just gone off to war and it left him feeling too many things at the same time. There was concern, obviously, because if a friend was sobbing, any sane human would be concerned.

But more than that, there was annoyance and major insult that, all together, felt a lot like hurt. Fraser didn't spend a lot of his free time wondering what it'd be like kissing Lemon but once it happened, he figured it was something they'd enjoy, or at least be able to laugh about. He knew he wasn't her precious Romeo, but he also wasn't the short weird art kid from the Isle that she'd kissed already either, and from what he knew, she didn't weep when that one happened.

He was hoping something closer to the concerned end of his emotional spectrum would come out when he did finally get over the shock of her tears enough to talk, but what actually escaped him was something like "What the hell are you crying about?! You'd think I slapped you or something. It was just a kiss, Líomóid! It's kind of the whole point of the game! Get a grip." He didn't mean to sound so angry, but he felt rejected, and by someone he wasn't even out to get! The fun he'd been having with her at the party had died and was like a heavy beast was sitting in his chest now. Fraser turned away from her with crossed arms, not able to handle looking at her tears for one more second.

“I’m crying because you ruined my birthday!” Lemon yelled back, dramatically stomping her foot like a character in a movie to emphasize her point. What right did Fraser have to be angry at her for getting upset? It wasn’t his first kiss that had been thrown away in front of so many witnesses. It wasn’t his 20th birthday that would forever be tainted by losing a game she’d specifically come up with to make EVERYONE ELSE look kinda trashy. As far as Lemon was concerned, Fraser had won the freaking lottery, He’d gotten to kiss her!

Lemon used all her strength to turn Fraser back around to face her. “What are you, a five year old? You don’t get to turn  around when I’m mad at you! I’m crying and it’s your fault because YOU couldn’t play a stupid game right, so now you have to look at me.”

He was glad to be facing away from her, because otherwise Lemon would've seen Fraser roll his eyes at her claiming he "ruined" her birthday. She still might've heard his huff, but to be fair, he wasn't trying to be quiet. She deserved to know she sounded ridiculous, and if she was going to stomp her little foot at him, then him huffing at her was more than called for. After all, what kind of party was made worse by kissing the hottest person in the room?

But then she tried to get his attention and got him to face her again and he couldn't hold in the annoyance any longer. "You're calling me a five year old?! Seriously?! You're the one sobbing because, what, you accidentally kissed the best guy at the party? The only reason anyone should be kissing after kissing me is because they didn't get to kiss me longer, so get over yourself. It was just a stupid game and you're the one deciding to cry about it, not me, so no, I don't want to look at you. In fact ---"

Fraser cut himself off and moved towards Lemon, picking her up and spinning them around so she was facing away. "Now just stay there for the rest of the seven minutes, fuck."

Lemon let out a loud scream of rage when Fraser picked her up and faced her away like SHE was the one acting like a poorly behaved toddler now. She turned right back around and put her hands on her hips angrily. “Quit it! You’re not the best boy here by a LOOONG shot! If anything you’re the WORST boy here and I couldn’t have gotten stuck with a worse first kiss if I TRIED! And considering the applications I got in January, that’s saying a LOT and that’s why I’m crying. Because You’re the worst!” Then because Lemon couldn’t think of a better way to end it, she turned right back around and crossed her own arms this time.

Fraser hadn't been expecting her to yell but people yelled plenty back home in his part of Dunbroch, and yelling back was how someone showed that they weren't backing down, which he wasn't, so he yelled back and didn't stop until she did. He was way too fired up to just roll over and take her weird ass breakdown, because he hadn't done anything wrong, so when she turned back around, he rolled up his sleeves, ready to roll with whatever dumb punches she dropped. Saying he was the worst was a terrible start on her part, because if there was one thing Fraser knew with all his heart, it was that he was truly the best at everything, kissing included. The more she prattled on, though, the more things started making sense.

"UGH!" he groaned, walking around Lemon so his back was against the closet wall and he could face her again without spinning her around. "What are you saying? That you, what, didn't kiss the short art kid?" The anger on his face dissipated for a moment as he took in the fact that Lemon lost her first kiss at a party, during a dumb game, which definitely wasn't on brand for her. But then he realized that she was disappointed about him as a first kiss when he was clearly a better option than anyone else she could find, and his forehead creased again. "I'm sorry your first kiss wasn't how you wanted it to go but I didn't know it was your first! And it's not my fault that you lied about that! And I know I should apologize, but I'm a hundred percent an upgrade to that guy, or any other guy who applied to your weird kiss resume thing! So just... quit crying, okay? Please?"

He let out a sigh and his shoulders crumbled forward. "It was just a game anyway. A lot of people don't even count games, so we could just say it doesn't count. Besides, it's not like I gave you a real kiss anyway."

“Yes! Obviously I didn’t kiss Myles. Why would I ever be this upset if I had kissed someone before!” Admittedly Lemon probably still would’ve cried in the closet if she’d kissed ten boys before this. She hated doing anything that she didn’t have written down to the minute in her planner. But still. “I know you didn’t know but that still doesn’t give you the right to yell at me for crying! I’m upset and you’re screaming at me! How am I supposed to stop crying!”  

Lemon sniffled hard, actually attempting to stop crying but at this point it was too late and her tears weren’t going to be stopping for a minute. She really hoped it would at least be before it was time to come out of the closet, luckily after years of watching her mother look like an absolute lunatic after crying jags Lemon had always made it a point to only buy waterproof eyeliner and mascara, so if she could get it together she probably wouldn’t look that wrecked when they left. “It was a game but I count games and so do a lot of other people so it counts to me. Lips touching like that is totally a real kiss, what are you talking about?”

Fraser snorted at the 'obviously', not feeling the need to point out once again that she'd lied about her whole insane kiss application thing and thus it wasn't 'obvious' at all. "I don't know, you're asking me to make sense out of a crazy woman's brain!" She did have a point though and so Fraser let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head. "Fine, fine, whatever, consider my screaming done. It's just..." He didn't know how to tell her how insulted he really was, so he just didn't. He let himself trail off and kept shaking his head, not sure what to say.

Besides, seeing Lemon all sniffly and sad did kind of send a solid, genuine pang of regret through him. He kind of wished he could go back and change what happened, but for all he knew, Lemon would've gotten upset and counted it as a kiss no matter what, just because it wasn't what she'd expected. "It's the people who don't kiss people outside of games who count them," he tried, his tone way softer than it'd been a minute ago. "Once you're out there in the real world, kissing the actual guy you want to be kissing, you'll realize this one didn't count at all. It can be erased from history then."

He couldn't help but crack a little bit of a smile at her last question and he shrugged a shoulder. "Lips touching is just lips touching; you wouldn't call hands brushing past each other 'holding hands', would you? Kissing is more than a brief graze. I mean, we weren't even touching each other anywhere, and we were standing way too far apart. A real kiss would've left you swooning, not crying. Especially if it was from me." He paused but then curiosity overcame him. "But uh, why didn't you kiss Myles? You did that whole application thing presumably to avoid situations like this and then you just... didn't?"

“I’m not crazy!” Lemon huffed, stomping her foot again. If she hadn’t been so genuinely offended by the insult she might have gotten smug about Fraser backing down from yelling at her, but at this point she felt like it was the least he could do to still be able to be called one of her best friends by the end of the night. 

Once Fraser softened his tone for her, Lemon genuinely tried to actually listen to him and maybe believe what he was saying. But she still wasn’t buying it, especially when he insisted that if it was a real kiss from him she would’ve been swooning but that was more best friend exclusive pettiness than an knock on his skills of persuasion. 

“It just didn’t feel right. I don’t know?” She shrugged, briefly glancing around the closet to see if there was something she could dry her face with before giving up and  delicately using the side of her finger to try and dab some of her tears away. “It was like how none of my plays have been working lately. I planned it all out so perfectly and got so close to getting it done exactly the way I wanted it, but I like knew it still wasn’t actually right so I didn’t actually end up going through with it.  Plus he really is kind of short so it felt a little stupid too. But don’t tell anyone I told you or it’ll make Romeo’s height difference kink sound valid.”

Fraser raised his brows at Lemon's huffing, as if she was just proving his point about the craziness, but he didn't delve into that deeper. He didn't think he needed to, especially since he got the feeling that he'd hurt her feelings with that comment and he'd done enough damage that night as was, even though he still refused to think of the kiss thing as his fault. In any other circumstances, Lemon kissing him wouldn't be a bad thing for either of them, and he was sure of that, even though they'd obviously never prove it one way or another.

He noticed her looking for something to wipe her tears on and he sighed, pulling a handkerchief out of his pants pocket and handing it to her wordlessly. It was the one he'd had in his jacket pocket earlier and he'd wanted to hold onto it, although he hadn't anticipated it'd be for this reason. He really did feel bad for Lemon the more she explained. It was the curse of the perfectionist, and that was a curse he understood well. She got him to laugh a little bit with that last comment though and he shook his head through the chuckle.

"Don't worry, that secret dies with me, mostly because height difference kinks are stupid in the first place. Men who need height to feel like a 'man' next to their woman are wildly insecure." Fraser cleared his throat and smiled awkwardly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm sorry that your plans aren't as perfect in execution as they are in your head, both writing plans and kissing plans. That's what happens when your brain is better than the real world. Do you want... a hug?" Offering that felt a little weird but he also wasn't sure how else to comfort her and they probably had a few minutes left locked together in this torture chamber anyway.

Lemon gratefully took Fraser’s handkerchief with a small watery smile and dried her eyes as much as she could without rubbing them before folding it and awkwardly keeping it in her hand since she wasn’t sure what else she was supposed to do with it because handing it back seemed a little gross.

Lemon didn’t mean to laugh at Fraser’s response to her comment about Romeo’s height kink since she WAS in love with him and still kind of upset but a small giggle slipped out anyway since it was exactly the same thing she’d thought about it but had been mostly too nice to say. “You’re so right.” Lemon agreed before lifting an eyebrow at Fraser’s slight pause before the word hug. In a moment of either genius or insanity an idea popped into Lemon’s head in a flash. She pulled her flask out of her garter once more and took a big mouthful of the bourbon she’d only been using for sipping thus far before passing it over to Fraser. “Actually could you kiss me? Like for real this time? Well not for real real, but you know party real?”

The tension in the closet didn't disappear immediately at Lemon's giggle but it definitely dissipated enough for Fraser to take a small sigh of relief. So long as he hadn't totally ruined her night, or their friendship, they could make it through the rest of the party. "I'm almost always right," he added with a half-smile, glad she wasn't above admitting Romeo's  'you must be this short to ride this prince' thing wasn't weird. He'd never expect her to flat out badmouth the dude, but laughing at him was a good bonding moment, as was sharing a drink. Fraser took the flask grateful and raised it in tandem with his eyebrows before taking a big gulp.

The bourbon was still in his mouth when Lemon asked for a kiss and before he could perform a spit take which would be extra disgusting given their enclosed status, Fraser took a hard gulp to make sure all the liquid went down. "You've got to be shitting me," he said, shaking his head. "I mean, this is some sort of weird trick, right? Because your face is still slightly damp from me party kissing you before and I don't want to give you an excuse to hate me for longer than necessary." He expected her to burst out laughing, or admit it was a strange joke on her part making fun of him for wanting a hug or for fucking up so badly in the first place. It was the only reality that made sense, although his lips absentmindedly rubbed together for moisture as if his brain was preparing him for the slim to none chance that she was actually asking for what it sounded like she'd said.

Lemon’s nose scrunched up slightly in response to the rejection, she had of course expected it since it WAS a really strange thing to ask after the hissy fit she’d thrown barely minutes before hand. But their time in the closet was running out and now that she’d decided she wanted to do it, she wanted it done as soon as possible. “No, It’s not a trick! I mean it!” She insisted, using his handkerchief again to try and make her face less damp from crying. “You already got my first party kiss that may or may not have counted, so you might as well get the real one while we’re here?”

Fraser eyed Lemon suspiciously, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out whether or not he could trust Lemon's sudden shift. He didn't think she'd take it this far if it was a joke, but he also had a hard time believing she suddenly deemed him worthy when just a few seconds ago kissing him had been some sort of nightmare. The more he thought about it though, the more sense it made; after all, he knew he was better than just about any other guy she could find for this, and she already felt like she'd lost her first kiss...

The second he decided to take her up on her offer, he sighed, hoping it wasn't just the bourbon that made them both think this wasn't a bad idea. "Fine, fine, if it'll get you to shut up," he said, half-grumbling as if she'd asked him to do something far more tedious than kiss a beautiful girl. Before she could really say anything back to that, he took her cheeks into his hands and brought their faces together, some force behind it as he hastened to make sure this actually happened. Once they were in each other's space, he let his more experienced lips guide hers through an actual kiss, the kind he was sure girls wrote home about when they were lucky enough that it happened to them.

Lemon was all ready to tell Fraser that he didn’t have to kiss her if he was going to be a little bitch about it, but before she could even open her mouth it was already a little busy being kissed. Wide eyed, she instinctively wanted to push him back just for being so rushed about it, but she managed to resist the urge for long enough to realize that maybe it was for the best. She’d already backed out of one of her grand kiss schemes before, it would be even more embarrassing if she had the freedom to chicken out of the second one too. And even though she wasn’t at all sure what made someone a good or bad kisser, she could at least tell that it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant experience and a few seconds into it, managed to relax enough to close her eyes and just let it happen without trying to take control as she was wont to do with anything else in life.

Fraser's eyes had closed as soon as his lips had made contact with Lemon's, but he could still feel the hesitancy on her part. He wasn't one to pull back or quit though, especially not when he was doing this at her request in the first place, and when that hesitancy passed, it was almost like a sense of calm took its place. It was a calm that, ironically, excited him to his core, the kind of calm that, in his experience, only came with the really good kisses.

He was so used to Lemon fighting with him for the heck of it that it was weird that this felt so normal now, and he pushed some of her hair back as he deepened the kiss, lingering as long as he could and only pulling back when he needed some air.

"There. Happy now?" The snappiness he wanted in that comment was diminished significantly by the smile he didn't even realize he had on and the fact that he sounded a bit breathless, but beneath the sarcasm, he really hoped Lemon had gotten what she'd wanted out of that. If she hadn't, he'd actually maybe feel a little guilty, because he'd sure enjoyed it.

Lemon was surprised at herself when the first thing she wanted to do when Fraser finally pulled away was POUT.  It was a good kiss and kind of left her feeling a little dazed but was it good enough to allow Fraser to get a big head about and let him lord over her for the absolute rest of their lives? Not really!

Putting on her best unimpressed look, Lemon shrugged casually. “I mean, I guess I am. I’m not exactly swooning but if that’s what gets em going, okay.” She knew she was being a jerk by pretending that she hadn’t been at all moved by the kiss. But with the way she and Fraser generally operated, anything other than forcing herself to burst into tears again was absolutely unacceptable. “Merci beaucoup, for helping me get that out of the way, I guess.”

Fraser wasn't waiting for a swoon necessarily -- swooning at a kiss that happened in a closet of all places was so far from Lemon's brand that even he couldn't take it personally if she didn't -- but he was waiting for some sort of reaction to let him know she'd liked that as much as he did. It didn't feel particularly conceited to think of himself as a good kisser. After all, he'd gotten plenty of positive feedback in his day. However, when all he got in response was a shrug and an "I guess", that same feeling of rejection from when Lemon had originally burst into tears prickled around him like a particularly itchy sweater.

He shoved that down though, like one might shove down an adverse reaction to a particularly itchy sweater if it was a gift from a loved one, and just rolled his eyes at her. "It works on normal girls, so I guess I should've seen this coming," he shot back. "But yeah, yeah, you're welcome. Maybe now the next time you kiss someone, you won't turn into a freaking water park. In fact, let the next guy know he should send me a fruit basket as thanks." He smiled despite himself, clearing his throat as he heard a countdown starting on the other side of the door, probably marking down the time they had left in the closet.

Lemon rolled her eyes at the normal girls comment but smiled back at Fraser anyway. “I’ll be sure to let the next guy know.” Obviously Lemon was certain that the next guy would be her beloved Romeo, a theory that warmed her heart so much that before the count got too far down, she wrapped her arms around Fraser in a tight embrace.

“I do really appreciate you for kissing me again even though I cried and it doesn’t count. You’re such a good best friend to me.” Lemon admitted, pressing her cheek into his as she let all of her words come out in one big rushed blur to make up for how genuinely she meant it. Then she strategically waited until the countdown was done and the door opened before letting Fraser go, just so it looked like they’d been doing more than screaming at each other for most of the past seven minutes.

The hug that he'd originally asked for finally came and it nearly caught him off guard with how quickly it came to him but luckily Fraser caught Lemon in his arms in time and squeezed back. Them being the same height meant they were face to face again, in a much different way than a few moments ago though, cheek to cheek, and Lemon's words reached him quickly, privately, and unexpectedly earnestly. It made a weird lump form in his throat that he wouldn't be able to explain even if he tried.

"You're a good best friend too," he confessed in a near-whisper, as if saying it too loudly would make up for the fact that he didn't say 'I know' or something else like that. He wanted to add a cutting and inaccurate comment like 'even though you're a shit kisser' but not as much as he wanted to just stay in that moment a few seconds more, and then the door was open and he let go of her with a grin as they made their way back into the fray.

[gondowan]

Darling, Dearest, Dead

Pairing: Matsukawa Issei/Hanamaki Takahiro

Issei thinks he really should get a straight answer from Takahiro about his three dead husbands, but it’s really hard to think when said person of interest- the one he’s had feelings for since high school- is sucking his soul out through his cock. 

Tags/Warnings: mutual pining. happy ending. post-time skip. confessions. blow jobs. two idiots in love. this is kind of angsty but has a fluffy happy ending i promise lol. I’m all about The Yearning you know?. oc death off-screen.  

Word Count: 4,084

Notes: I set out to write a pwp but ended up with 4k words of feels?

The television is on in Matsukawa Issei’s tiny office at Peaceful Hills Funeral Home. Space is always a premium at a mortician’s, more so if you’re the owner and sole employee of said funeral home, trying to get it to stay afloat. It’s not like Matsukawa can just stack the dead on top of each other, or tetris them to create more space, no. Doing so would be disrespectful. When Matsukawa isn’t busy attending to family members of the recently deceased or embalming, he does all of his paperwork in a tiny, cramped fire hazard of a broom closet, with the television as his sole companion. Matsukawa never minded silence, but well, when you’re surrounded by dead bodies, sometimes you just need a little background noise.

His cigarette is lit between his lips, rapidly turning into ash as he stares blankly at the television, enraptured by the story unfolding in front of him.

POLICE CITE NATURAL CAUSES IN DEATH OF SHIPPING MAGNATE YOSHIOKA HIDEKI.

Yoshioka Hideki, owner of Yoshioka Shipping International, aged 54, husband to Yoshioka Takahiro, nee Hanamaki, Matsukawa’s best friend and the love of his life. As soon as they graduated, Hanamaki had packed his bags for Tokyo, citing an urge to get out there and just try out life in the big city. Matsukawa stayed behind in Miyagi, finished college, and completed his mortician apprenticeship, the first of many milestones in his adult life, alone. Oikawa had gone to Argentina, chasing his dreams of volleyball.  Iwaizumi, although he would never admit it, was doing his best to position himself to cross Oikawa’s path again.

In the cold bitter nights when Matsukawa is behind on work and pulling long hours, he always thought Hanamaki would be there by his side, but he pushes those thoughts away. No amount of regret ever changed the past, no amount of wishing ever changed the future.

If he’s happy, that’s good enough for Matsukawa.

---

The first time Hanamaki told Matsukawa he was engaged was when he was visiting Tokyo to see him, a year after Hanamaki had moved. Matsukawa thought they were going to hang out, just like old times, so when he opens the door of the fancy apartment (how did Takahiro afford all this?) and an older man answers the door, Matsukawa puts two and two together. He attends their elopement as their only witness, feeling the dual bitterness of losing someone and mourning the friendship he thought they shared.

The second time, Hanamaki casually drops the news over the phone as Matsukawa is signing a contract. He falters, and ink splatters over the page. He’ll have to reprint it and start over. This time, Hanamaki elopes in Bali, and although he extends Matsukawa an invitation, Matsukawa knows better than to go.

The third time, Matsukawa finds out via the news.

---

“You either need to tell him or get over it,” Iwaziumi says, stubbing out his cigarette in the tray between them, ever the realist.

“That’s rich coming from you, Hajime.” Matsukawa sneers. He doesn’t mean to be rude to Iwaizumi, the man has been there for him for so long and is really only verbalizing what Matsukawa knows on the inside, but he can’t help it. “Let me know when you tell Oikawa how you feel.”

“I’m about to, actually.” Iwaizumi says, crossing his arms with a sigh. “I’m headed to Argentina soon. I’m going to tell him.”

Matsukawa is stunned. He figured Iwaizumi would’ve preferred to evaporate on the spot rather than admit his feelings to Oikawa.  “I...I’m happy for you,” he whispers, “I know he feels the same.”

“We’ll see won’t we?” the shorter man says, an undercurrent of nervousness in his voice, a fond look on his face.

The two get married the following year, a beautiful ceremony on the Argentine beach surrounded by family and friends new and old. The ceremony has an added effect of bringing Hanamaki back into Matsukawa’s life, and they rekindle their friendship over a series of extremely alcoholic margaritas and questionable decisions in the hot Argentine nights. Matsukawa will take what he can get, because Hanamaki seems happy with Yoshioka-san, and as long as Makki is happy, Matsukawa can learn to be too. That acknowledgement doesn’t do anything to fill the hole in his soul, but it does soften the pain just a little. Hanamaki never talks about his husband or anything related to his romantic life past or present, and Matsukawa doesn’t ask. Ignorance is bliss.

---

Matsukawa’s cell rings, disturbing his reverie. He doesn’t even look at the screen before answering.

“Yoshioka-san.” he murmurs, as if it doesn’t hurt each time he has to call the love of his life by another man’s name.

“It’s back to Hanamaki now, Issei”, the voice on the other end of the line is cheerful, playful even for someone who just became a widower for the third time.

“I…” Matsukawa falters and the condolences he had prepared dies on his lips. Hanamaki always had (and continues to have) the stunning ability to catch Matsukawa off-guard. When they would play three-on-three practice games at Seijoh, Hanamaki always gave Matsukawa the most trouble. And just like that, Matsukawa slips back into his old ways, Hanamaki’s name rolling off his tongue like it belongs there, if only he would let him. “Takahiro...how are you doing?”.

---

It’s quite difficult to surprise a mortician in regards to anything having to do with death and dying, but from over a thousand miles away, Hanamaki manages to do just that.

“Let me get this straight, you want to ship the body to Miyagi, again?” Matsukawa sputters. He’s on his third cigarette of the phone call, and there’s too much information for him to process—the death of his best friend’s third spouse, the feelings he’s never addressed, the hurt that’s simmered in the back of his mind that Hanamaki left Miyagi, it’s a lot. I should’ve gone to therapy, the wayward thought has floated in Matsukawa’s mind, but he’s still not ready to face the music.

“Makki, people are going to think that you’re offing these people to help support your best friend’s funeral home.” he jokes.

The question from the last two times lingering on his lips, “You didn’t...have anything to do with their deaths did you?”

The pause before Hanamaki answers stretches a little too long for Matsukawa to be comfortable with.

“Isn’t that what friends are for?” Hanamaki finally says, completely sidestepping the question, the teasing tone in his voice still very at odds with the current circumstances, “Anyways, I’ve arranged for the body to be flown overnight to Miyagi, you just need to pick it up at the regional airport. We can talk about additional arrangements and such after you pick it up.”

“Makki I don’t—”

“Please, Issei?” he pleads, and Matsukawa gives, like he always does.

---

It’s raining softly as Matsukawa parks his car at the airport, the clammy yellow lighting reflecting off the new wax job he had just gotten. While he would’ve liked to drive a flashier car around, a van is just easier for all the transport he has to do, and the hearse is really only used for special occasions (and draws too many eyes). It’s not as if he’s driving dates around anyway or has anyone to impress, so discreet soccer mom van it is.

He checks the time and walks into the lobby. It’s usually a straightforward task, picking up a corpse from an airport. Matsukawa just needs to show the proper ID and his mortician’s license, check that the body is properly labeled and identified (wouldn’t want to take the wrong body back), and load it onto a gurney. If he’s lucky the body has been refrigerated, if not, well, hopefully the recently deceased Yoshioka-san is in an airtight container.

The woman at the Peach Airlines counter looks way too peppy for the hour of day. She confirms his ID and walks into the office to retrieve the container. Matsukawa excuses himself to use the bathroom, and when he walks out, the body has been brought out.

What Matsukawa doesn’t expect however, is the man waiting beside the casket. His breath catches as he allows himself to savor the view in front of him. Hanamaki is dressed simply in a black coat and patterned slacks, looking more formal than Matsukawa has ever seen, strawberry brown hair cut neatly in a way that frames his face perfectly. There are some lines in the corner of his eyes that weren’t there before. Hanamaki is a vision in the dim light of the airport, even as he shifts awkwardly next to his deceased husband’s casket.

It’s 10 PM Japan Standard Time on a cold rainy autumn night, and Matsukawa is still in love.

Thankfully, he manages to compose himself before Hanamaki spots him, and his face breaks out in the most beautiful smile that Matsukawa has ever seen. Before Matsukawa can say anything, Hanamaki folds him into a hug. There’s a strange desperation there that Issei has never seen in Takahiro before, he can feel the tension radiating off the other man’s body, in the way that his hands clench at Matsukawa’s coat. Grief? Relief? Matsukawa isn’t sure.

After a long minute, Hanamaki finally releases him, his hand lingering on Matsukawa’s waist for just a tad longer than appropriate. “I missed you,” Matsukawa says simply, unsure of how else to vocalize the well of emotions he’s gone through the past few years, everything he’s wanted to say but could never find the right time to. I’ve missed you so much it hurts. I’m so in love with you. I think about you all the time. I’m hurt we aren’t as close as we used to be.

Hanamaki looks at him with an expression that Matsukawa can’t quite place, “I’ve missed you too Issei.” There’s a lingering there, like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t.

“Shall we?” he pipes up, the happy-go-lucky mask sliding back over his face. “Can’t just leave a body out in the open like this.”

Matsukawa nods.

---

“Issei...you drive a minivan?” Hanamaki says, as if that is the strangest thing out of this whole situation.

“Had I known you were coming with, I would’ve brought out my Maserati,” he jokes as he opens the door for Hanamaki, the body safely secured in the back.

Hanamaki rolls his eyes as he settles in, “I’ll bet you get all the chicks in this hot rod.”

There’s only one person I want to bring home in this car.

“Oh, so many. Chicks love it when you tell them you haul dead bodies in the back. It does wonders to the libido,”.

Hanamaki laughs, a genuine one that brings a smile to Matsukawa’s face, “I’ll bet.” He puts on a high falsetto, “Matsukawa-san, take me now, right here on the floor of this van where you’ve just hauled Uncle to his final resting place. I must have you, you stupid sexy mortician of a man”.

Matsukawa starts the car, “So you think I’m sexy Makki? Is that it?”.

“Never said you weren’t.”

They drive back in silence as Matsukawa turns that statement over and over in his mind. Hanamaki, true to his form, falls asleep as if this is just another late night. He’s still fast asleep when Matsukawa pulls up to the driveway of the funeral home, the streetlights casting a soft glow on his face. In sleep he looks younger, and Matsukawa is reminded of late nights when they would study together. Hanamaki always fell asleep first, as if he were chasing after something in his dreams.

---

He’s still asleep as Matsukawa unlocks the door and pushes the body into the refrigerated section of the home. Matsukawa is lost in his thoughts at the absurdity of the situation, Takahiro, his best friend, a three-time widower, is asleep in his car while Issei tucks his dead husband into the fridge. What the fuck.

His reverie doesn’t last long however.

“Boo”.

Matsukawa jumps as Hanamaki suddenly grabs his waist.

“Jesus Makki I—“

“Gotcha~” he says in a singsong voice. “You know, this is the first time I’ve been here,” he remarks as he looks around, taking it all in.

“Which is odd, considering you’re now a three-time client.”

Hanamaki shrugs, “I require the best of the best.”

“I’m sure there are better and more established funeral homes in Tokyo than my little place,” Matsukawa scoffs. He really needs a cigarette. Or a break. Maybe both. This is all too much to handle.

Hanamaki runs his hands along the desk, “Maybe. But you built this place from the ground up. All by yourself,”.

Matsukawa knows better than to say what’s on his mind, but he can’t help it. It’s been stewing for so fucking long that he needs to get it out. He may as well get closure now, here, as they stand in front of Hanamaki’s dead husband. “I wanted you by my side you know.”

The other man chuckles, clearly misinterpreting the weight of what he just said, “Right, we’d be like Gomez and Morticia Addams, two partners running a funeral home.”

“If you mean being married and running a small business side-by-side, yeah.” It’s a crude confession, not at all what Issei thought it would be like. Matsukawa thought he’d always have some flowery thing to say to Hanamaki when he finally did confess. Something sweet like the profiteroles that Hanamaki loves so much. He didn’t want to confess in the sterile white lighting of the storage room of his funeral home, to his grieving best friend. Hanamaki deserves better than that, he thinks, but it is what it is.

It all spills out of Matsukawa like a torrent. “I’ve been in love with you since before our last Spring High. Every fucking day I’ve wanted nothing but to hold your hand and kiss you. I thought…I thought after we graduated that we would live a boring normal life together while Iwaizumi and Oikawa run around the world,” he scoffs, trying desperately to chase away the wellspring of tears in his eyes. When did he become so emotional? Years of pining will do that to a man, he supposes.

Hanamaki gapes at him like he wants to say something, but Matsukawa doesn’t relent, words just keep spilling out of him. “It’d be boring by their standards but it would be our kind of boring you know? The dumb kind where we go out for ice cream at 2AM, or fall asleep on the couch,”. He runs a hand through his hair, grasping desperately.

“It hurt so much when you moved away…when you got married and I didn’t even know you were dating someone. After…after the first time I tried to date, tried to get over you, but no one can hold any candle to you in my life.” Matsukawa’s breathing is jagged, jagged like his heart. It feels like he’s trying to talk while running.

“I just…I love you so much Takahiro. I’m in love with the crow’s feet on your eyes that weren’t there before, the way your hair frames your face, your stupid humor, your laugh, how you always try to do-it-all and I just…I..”

“Every time I see you, you bring me to my knees,” he whispers.

Hanamaki doesn’t say a word, not that Matsukawa leaves any room for him to speak. He just closes his eyes. By the end, Matsukawa’s head is spinning and he’s pretty sure he just fucked it all up, but somehow, he’s also relieved. Relieved that he finally got it off his chest. Iwaizumi was right. The whole time, he’d been carrying this burden for so long he doesn’t know what it’s like to not have it, like a lovesick Atlas who doesn’t realize that he could just shrug off the burden and stand up straight again.

“Say something.” Please.

Hanamaki says nothing, just walks up to Matsukawa in bold, self-assured steps. He reaches for his face and Matsukawa flinches, actually flinches, at the touch.

“We’re both idiots, aren’t we?”

Before Matsukawa can say anything Hanamaki reaches his hand to the back of Matsukawa’s neck, pulls at his tie, and kisses him. Issei is pretty sure he’s hallucinating but fuck Hanamaki smells so good, looks so good up close. He takes Hanamaki’s face in his hands, deepening the kiss, nothing on his mind except a litany of yes yes yes.

As they kiss, Hanamaki pushes Matsukawa towards the desk. Matsukawa doesn’t mind, all that he can think about is how badly he’s wanted this, how long he’s waited, how fucking happy he feels. He’s so dizzy with want that he doesn’t even remember where he is, all that exists currently is the feel of Hanamaki’s lips on his and his hands around Hanamaki’s waist.

Hanamaki breaks off the kiss, thumb running over Matsukawa’s cheek before he goes for his neck, pulling open his tie, fumbling at the button on his collar. When he can’t get it open fast enough, his hand wanders further down.

“Makki—wait I—”.

“Shut up.” He says as he drops to his knees, “Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted this.”

Wanted this? Wanted Matsukawa? Issei thinks he might need hearing aids or something, but that thought is wiped out as Hanamaki takes his cock out of his boxers and licks a long, wet stripe along the underside. The groan that escapes him is embarrassing and he grips the edge of the desk for dear life.

“Look at me Issei.” Hanamaki murmurs, pressing a kiss to the tip.

Matsukawa swallows, fluttering his eyes open as he looks down right as Hanamaki takes all of him into his mouth. Had he been a lesser man, he would’ve cum right then and there like a schoolboy. Instead, Matsukawa wills the last of his lucidity into being.

“F-fuck, Makki no—”

Hanamaki looks up at Matsukawa from his knees, a look of shock on his face and an undercurrent of dejection in his plea “You don’t want…?” You don’t want me? Is the unspoken thought.

Matsukawa grits his teeth as he wills himself to pull back, “I do Takahiro, you have no fucking idea how much I want you but no, not here. We need to do this right.”

It’s then that Hanamaki seems to snap out of his daze and remembers where they are. “Oh...oh right, fuck. Uh...let’s go home?”

Matsukawa sighs in relief as Hanamaki gets up. “Yeah..home.”

---

When they get back to Matsukawa’s apartment, he brings out two beers from the fridge, and sets them down on the coffee table.

“Hiro...before we do anything, we should...talk”.

Hanamaki sighs, taking a deep swig, “I know...I owe you that much.”

He fiddles with the label on beer. “The first two times, I needed money, and one of the part-timers suggested this website. I made it clear from the start that it was purely transactional, but I was so afraid of losing everything and coming back to Miyagi with nothing to show for it.”

He looks right at Matsukawa. “I know…I could’ve asked my parents or you or anyone for help but...when you’re in the thick of it you just can’t think straight you know?”

Hanamaki sighs wearily, “The last time, Hideki-kun...was terminally ill and estranged from his family. He didn’t want it to go to them. We got close when I was temping at his office. I..I told him to leave it all to charity, but I guess he felt some sort of strange compulsion to help me. He paid for job training, a therapist, and was just so kind for no reason. All he asked for in return was that I play a role in public.”

“So, you were…arm candy?”

“I wouldn’t even call it that. We had different residences, it was all very compartmentalized. I wish I asked him before but, I think he was just lonely.” Hanamaki scoffs, “At least I did one thing right in my adult life, comfort someone who needed it.”

Matsukawa reaches over, pulling the other man to his chest, running a hand through his hair. Hanamaki fits perfectly on top of Issei’s chest. He lets out a sigh.

“I’m sorry Issei.”

Matsukawa presses a kiss to the top of Hanamaki’s head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he murmurs, “Will you stay this time?”

“Yeah, if you’ll have me.”

“There’s nothing else I want more,” Matsukawa murmurs, before taking Hanamaki’s hand in his and pressing a kiss to his palm.

A muffled voice pipes up, “You..you forgive me?”

“Of course,” Matsukawa says, another kiss to his hand. It’s the easiest thing Matsukawa has ever done. They’ll have to talk more earnestly later and clear years of unspoken pain, but Matsukawa knows that this time, it’ll be alright.

“Just like that?”

Matsukawa angles his head to the side, looking down right into Hanamaki’s eyes as he runs a finger across his eyebrow, “Makki…why do you always think you have to suffer?”.

Hanamaki’s upper lip is quivering. “You sound like my therapist,” he says, voice cracking a little. Matsukawa smiles, and sits up, arms returning to Hanamaki’s waist.

“My clients usually don’t talk back,” he says, planting a soft, tentative kiss to Hanamaki’s cheek.

“Was that an attempt at a funeral joke because if so, you are severely out of practice Issei.” The other man snarks, trying and failing to hide the smile in the corner of his lips as Matsukawa presses a kiss to his forehead.

“You’re in for it now. There’s plenty more where that came from,” He murmurs before finally meeting Hanamaki’s lips. “No escape from the horrible puns.”  

“What a tragedy,” Hanamaki says, mouth opening to meet Matsukawa’s. He runs his hands down Hanamaki’s side like he’s always envisioned himself doing. A jolt of electricity runs through him and he feels emboldened by both their confessions and Hanamaki finally being in his arms. Matsukawa pushes Hanamaki so that his back is on the cushions, lips on the edge of his neck, hands intertwining with Hanamaki’s. Matsukawa works his way down slowly, kissing every inch of Hanamaki that he can get access to—the other man’s Adam’s apple, the hollow of his throat, his collarbones, trying to immortalize him in his mind. Below him, Hanamaki shivers to his touch, hips rising up to meet Matsukawa’s.  

Matsukawa swallows, fingertips grasping right at the edge of Hanamaki’s slacks. “May I?” he whispers, as if he’s afraid that if he’s any louder, Hanamaki will disappear again.

“I want you. I’ve wanted you.” Hanamaki says, “I—”. Emboldened, Matsukawa quickly undoes his belt and pulls his slacks down. There’s less composure in Matsukawa’s movements then he would like, but fuck it, Hanamaki is front of him in the flesh, and willing. He palms Hanamaki’s cock through his boxers, relishing in the hiss of breath that escapes Hanamaki’s gritted teeth as Matsukawa kisses the v-line of his hips. There’s no particular rhyme or reason to Matsukawa’s movements, and they’re a bit sloppy, but he doesn’t care. All he can think about is how good Hanamaki tastes and how good it feels when Hanamaki’s hand grips his hair.

He looks up at Hanamaki from between his thighs, wiping his mouth with his thumb. Hanamaki’s face is a pretty pink, lower lip swollen from how hard he’d been biting it. For a second, Matsukawa thinks about all that he’s ever wanted to do, will do, to Hanamaki, and shivers before returning his attentions to Hanamaki’s cock.

Hanamaki is beautiful as he comes undone in Matsukawa’s mouth, his fingers intertwined with Matsukawa’s other hand, back arching off the sofa cushions. They hold each other on the couch, giggling like school children- a heady mix of happiness, joy, and relief having found each other again.

---

The television is on in Matsukawa Issei’s tiny office at Peaceful Hills Funeral Home. Space is always a premium at a mortician’s, more so now that he’s no longer the sole employee of said funeral home. Instead, when he looks up and past the door, he can see his husband Hanamaki on the phone as well, jotting down notes from another client.

Matsukawa’s cigarette is lit, rapidly turning into ash as he just takes in the view in front of him, watching the light catch on the wedding band that Takahiro wears.

Darling, dearest, his.

---

I originally set out to write a PWP where they bang in the funeral home but...this...happened. I fell out of HQ for a long time (dipped out after Seijoh lost), but recently finished the manga and got slapped in the face with Mattsun working at a funeral home post-timeskip like ?? sir?? are you aware how hot you are??? and then I felt an inexplicable need to break his heart for a bit. Just a little. Also big thanks to @/plumtreeforest as always <3 ​

Comments/reblogs/etc always appreciated <3 can’t believe I finally got around to writing fic of my faves in the year 2021. I missed them.