#rated t/pg 13

[shannonsketches]

i mean they can censor the blood for an OoT remake and make it like… black. I mean it could have the same effect. However the game might just be E 10+ because modern nintendy is full of cowards

If the blood was the only issue I would agree. I'm pretty sure they just took the blood out entirely for the 3D version (except for the patterning on the deadhands maybe) and changed Gan's to green instead?

They usually go with blue or green to make it less gorey than red. Black might be too stark, and make the player think it's a shadow or something interactive.

I think modern Zelda games are already rated E10+ though, unfortunately, and that's pretty much as far as that can go.

[aparticularbandit]

Agatha Buys A Birthday Present

Summary: Cian’s birthday is coming up.  Agatha has a lot of ideas of what to get, but one thing in particular sticks out.

Agatha Harkness/The Ancient One Chapter Rating: T. Series Rating: M for adult themes, graphic sexual content, and nudity.

word count: 2164

She only saw it once, and she wasn’t supposed to see it at all.

Agatha hadn’t ever meant to go through Cian’s browser history – which, to be honest, she wasn’t really doing.  That sounds suspicious and creepy and like an invasion of privacy or like she was looking for something she shouldn’t be looking for when really she’d found a super cool recipe for something three days ago and forgot to print it out and was going through the history to try and find it – and she’d been on Cian’s laptop in the first place because hers had an infuriating sort of bug and needed to go through a lot of modification mumbo jumbo – they’d taken it to a shop to get cleaned up because she was attached to her laptop, although she’d needed to buy a new one a few months later anyway after it got knocked off of the bedside table a little too often to survive – which…really was her fault, she really shouldn’t have kept it on top of her bedside table; really she should put it in a drawer so that it can’t get knocked off, and she should have realized that after the first time she’d kicked it off during—

Point is Agatha hadn’t been looking for anything.  She’d been looking for that cake recipe.  Because Cian’s birthday was coming up, and she knew better than to try a new cake recipe day of because knowing her, she’d just fuck the whole thing up the first time.  The first several times.  And this way, Cian could try whatever it was while she was experimenting (read as: not following the recipe, because that’s no fun) and then give her that wry little smile of theirs where they lift one corner of their lips (the right, it is always the right, and she always wants to kiss them there to see if it will make them lift it higher (and sometimes they do, but mostly they just kiss her right back, which is fine enough)) because she had definitely gotten something wrong (because she still couldn’t understand why she couldn’t modify a baking recipe the same way she could modify any other recipe; it should be just fine; no, Cian, she doesn’t want to just follow the recipe when she can make it better (don’t ask how she knows hers would be better if she doesn’t know what the original actually tastes like because she never made the original)).

And then she’d seen—

Well.

Here’s the thing.  Cian’s birthday was coming up.  And, sure, Agatha could think about a lot of other things she could get for them.  She had a ton of ideas.  Great ideas! But then she’d seen that there was some sort of shopping something or other in their browser history, and she thought, well, maybe whatever that was might be a good idea.  So she’d pulled it up, not really thinking any the wiser, not thinking that Cian could possibly be embarrassed by anything she might see there.  And then she’d seen—

Well.

She’d seen it.

Agatha looked at the outfit.  Blinked a couple of times.  Cocked her head to one side.  Considered that there was no reason Cian would be thinking of getting it for themselves.  Figured it was probably just. something they’d accidentally clicked on.  Yep.

And then she’d bookmarked the recipe because inevitably she was going to get really upset with it for not turning out the way she wanted and then rip it to shreds in her frustration and then need to print out another copy.  Cian told her to remember to bookmark it this time.  She could at least do that.

~

…okay, so maybe she saw it twice, but it wasn’t because she was looking for it either time.

It was that stupid recipe again.  Which Agatha had definitely chewed to pieces and swallowed half of, like a feral toddler.  To be fair, she’d only torn it up that way because Cian had given her a look which suggested she wouldn’t do it, and she wanted to prove them wrong, and it’s not like eating paper was really that bad for her.  It just tasted horrible.  (It did not help that the paper tasted better than what she’d done with the recipe.)

At least Cian hadn’t suggested she just follow the recipe this time.  That always made her more frustrated.  Now she just felt like she was disappointing them, and maybe she should just follow the recipe, and then she could. play around with it.  That would be.  That would be fine. If she has to.

It’s for Cian, the benefits would far outweigh her not having fun, and she could at least give them a cake that tastes good while she experiments with ways to make it better—

And then she’d seen it.

Again.

That link, hidden in the bottom of Cian’s favorites.

Well, not the very bottom, but pretty close. Like it had been there a really long time.

Again, she wasn’t looking for it.  She just couldn’t find the recipe.  Which should have been at the very top but wasn’t at the very top and then was actually at the very top but had a stupid name that was about something else entirely and not super cool cake recipe for Agatha’s modification fun and actually had nothing to do with recipe or cake or even birthday, all of which would have made infinitely more sense than—

…to be honest, she doesn’t remember the title anymore.  She’d know it if she saw it.  But she was a little too distracted seeing the outfit again. Not in Cian’s browser history, where she could wave it away, but saved in their favorites.  Like something they went to visit frequently.

And this time she did visit their browser history, just to check and see how often they visited that page, and—

Well.

Uh.

Well.

It wasn’t too bad.  It’s not like she saw anything wrong with it.  She was a little concerned that Cian had visited it so often and never brought it up with her or bought it for her or anything like that, but.  She could play along with all of it.  It wasn’t like they had anything to be ashamed of.  At least. Not in her opinion, anyway.

Besides, Agatha could keep a secret as well as they could.

Which was how she ended up ordering it for her.

For them.

Their birthday was coming up, after all.

~

Which is how Agatha ended up in the bedroom she and Cian shared, in a preppy school girl outfit – all navy purple base with yellow, green, and red plaid suit jacket (with gold buttons that are half aesthetic and half actual buttons) and short, short skirt that really should serve to show off her legs (she has very nice legs.  Equally nice as Cian’s, if she’s honest with herself, but when is Agatha ever honest with herself about how she looks), except they don’t really show off her legs because there are these thigh high white socks, white as the shirt under her suit jacket, that leave barely any skin exposed, just this thin little strip, which she doesn’t get, but if this is what Cian wants, then she’ll definitely supply, even down to the shiny Mary Jane shoes with the wedge heels, which she thinks are ugly, but it’s the outfit, and Agatha is going to make sure she looks as close to that picture as possible.  She even teased her hair into those frizzy sort of curls so that they tumble just so around her shoulders.

She did her best, anyway.

The cake sits, cooling, in the kitchen.  Decorated to perfection.  The batter had tasted okay, and in all of the experimenting, this was the recipe that Cian seemed to like the best that wasn’t the original.  Agatha still feels like she’s improved it.  And if she hasn’t, then the icing certainly has because she’s actually very good at making icing.  She’s got years of practice on that.  She’s perfected icing.  She’d have perfected cake, too, if she hadn’t decided to try a new recipe for Cian’s birthday every year, but, well, this is more fun.  For her, mostly, but she thinks Cian likes all of the different cakes.

(Cian probably thinks this is to keep from thinking about her own birthday, and that’s…potentially valid.  Agatha never starts on this cake baking frenzy until after that, after their anniversary.  It’s easier to think about their anniversary than to think about everything else that happened on that day, and as long as she thinks about that and then gets to baking cake immediately after, then she doesn’t have to deal with the unhappy feelings that are…well.  That. She can avoid things.  She’s good at avoiding upsetting emotions.)

Agatha hears Cian unlock the door, hears it click shut, and strikes her pose. All indifferent, half-leaning against the edge of the mattress but mostly standing, one leg crossed over the other, one arm crossed, other hand lifted so that she can pretend to examine her nails, to flick something out from under her thumbnail.  As Cian enters, she gives them a look of disdain and says, with feigned annoyance, Took you long enough.

Or, at least, she’d planned on saying that.

But it’s impossible to really say much of anything when she sees how Cian is looking at her.  How wide their mossy green eyes are.  How completely frozen they are, as though they’ve forgotten how to breathe.  They take half of a breath in, start to step forward, hesitate.  How.  They swallow once, their eyes roaming over her, as though they can’t settle, as though they can’t focus on anything, until they force themselves to try and meet her eyes.  How did you find that.

It isn’t even a question.  Cian doesn’t seem to have the strength to question – probably because their voice would crack if they allowed themselves that light lilt of tone to make a question. They meet Agatha’s eyes ever so briefly, but then their gaze moves again, slow, hungry.

It was in your history.  In your favorites. Agatha keeps the pose because she’s afraid – no, not afraid, never afraid – of what stance she would take if she let it down, if she let herself relax.  I was looking for the recipe and—

May I? Cian asks, cutting her off before she can finish, voice so suddenly deep.  Soft.  They aren’t even trying to meet her eyes anymore, but at least their gaze isn’t moving here and there and everywhere anymore.  It’s at least focused now.  It might be angled down, but Cian’s so much taller than her that—

Of…of course, dear, Agatha says, brow furrowing. This is for your birthday.  You don’t have to—

But then Cian is there – she doesn’t think she’s ever seen them move so fast in her entire life before, which is saying something, considering everything else they’ve done – brushing one finger along the line of her jaw, lifting her chin, gaze lingering on her lips as their thumb grips her skin.  As they hold her chin, their other hand skims the exposed skin of her thigh, and Agatha forces herself to stand perfectly still as their hand moves up to cradle her bare ass.  Cian’s eyes grow dark.  Where’s your—

Not wearing any.

Cian’s thumb brushes her left ass cheek slow, steady, tracing it with their thumb nail.  Oh, my beautiful, beautiful girl.  They let out a soft sigh.  You have been so good for me, and I’m so unprepared.

Unprepared? Agatha echoes, blinking twice.

Mmhm, Cian purrs.  They touch the tip of their nose to hers, run it up and down, breath hot on her lips as they speak, I need something bigger—  They squeeze her ass, nails digging into her flesh, and Agatha gasps.  —to fill you with, pet.

Big—bigger? Agatha echoes again, gaze flicking back up from Cian’s lips, eyes widening.

Cian just nods, brushing their nose along hers again.  Can you be a good girl and wait here for me?  They step back, remove their hands from her skin, and boop her nose.  I won’t take very long.

Agatha swallows.  What do you mean by bigger—

You’ll see.  That singular corner of Cian’s lips lifts in amusement.  Then their eyes grow dark, their voice firm.  Wait here.  Don’t move.  They start to step away, to move to their drawer of toys.  And don’t take that off, my love.

Agatha’s brow furrows again.  Of course not.  You get to take it off.  That’s your—  Then she sees Cian turn with the biggest strap she thinks she has ever seen, certainly not one they have ever used before.  Her eyes grow wide with unsuppressed longing.  Oh.

Cian shuts the door behind them with a nudge of their ass.  Who said anything about taking it off?  They glance up, meet Agatha’s eyes, but don’t smile.  Turn, pet, and don’t look back.

[distantdarlings]

TEETH TO BONE // t. nott

RATING: PG-13 / 1.3K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Reader Insert (no gender-specific details)

+ SUMMARY - You come to your best friend's dorm room after not being able to sleep. He makes a decision that changes your relationship forever. *Theo's POV* (Romance)

+ WARNINGS - Heavy kissing, a bit of petting, someone kisses w/o that person's permission

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Touch - Troye Sivan

---

The sheets in the morning always caught Theodore’s attention. In those early hours when the sun's warm shades had not yet overtaken the cool, the birds still refused to sing, and the residents of the castle hadn’t yet awoken. It was a rarity for him to wake up at this time naturally—it didn't always have the same effect. But when he opened his eyes to the milky hue that stained the floor and felt the luster within his sleep-filled eyes, an instant feeling of comfort washed over him. This was always quickly followed by an unnerving question of life itself and the reason for these comforting feelings, but before this came along, there was comfort. 

It was the folds in the sheets that traced over his legs and the imaginary body lying next to him; the soft dancing of eyelashes over cheeks; the supple pink of another’s lips--someone in particular, not just anyone; and coffee with just enough cream to where it matched an old pair of corduroy trousers. These were all things that made him feel equally as comfortable as that morning light. The lips, though, were an image that often flashed in his mind. As were the sheets and the unfairly long eyelashes and the corduroy trousers. Each day, Theo found himself aligning more things in his personal thoughts to that of someone like you. He might hope to consider you his love but would never truly do so for the looming sense of rejection that hung over him like a rain cloud.

The door in the corner creaked with a symphony of old wood and rusty nails. It wasn't a pleasant thought, but the sound was as nostalgic as the crackles within the records that he and you used to play, sitting on the floors of each other's bedrooms. Theo smiled gently at the memory, remembering the feel of the hardwood beneath your ankles and the looks in both of your eyes. If he wasn't crazy, he might have thought that this is where his heart first opened up to you. Where he first realized how badly he craved your touch instead of any of the girls or guys his mates eyed in town.

"Teddy," a whisper like crinkling parchment tickled the shell of his ears. Only you could call him that.

"Are you awake?"

Theo pushed himself up into a sitting position, feeling the sheets tangle around his feet in a new position than they previously had. His eyes met that of a bedroom floor record player in an embrace with a cotton touch. You smiled, showing off the teeth that Theo found so endearing. You shifted a bit in the doorway, rubbing your bare thighs together in an attempt to gain some warmth. You were still wearing the shirt and the shorts that you’d been in the night before—the ones that made his stomach kiss his chest. 

He caught onto your sense of embarrassment and beckoned you over, your nightshirt a bit too big for you. The sleeves reached the tips of your fingers in a rather demeaning manner. You sauntered over before stepping into his bed, crossing your legs and placing your hands comfortably between each thigh. The shirt you wore was ill-fitting just as his but in a different way. The cotton material lay against your chest which didn't dare to touch. Your skin pulled tight over your bones and made a passionate embrace with the fabric as it hung off you in a rather languorous way that caught Theo’s attention rather quickly. The collar delicately caressed your exposed collarbones that cut like knives and burned like fire in the pit of Theo’s stomach.

"Alright, love?" Theo whispered, his voice cracking from the pressure of the morning. You looked down, a few strands of hair falling into your eyes. You didn't seem to notice.

"Couldn’t sleep, I reckon . . . ," you spoke just above a whisper, the tenor undertones in your voice making the hair on Theo’s arms stand up. Without thinking, the brunette swiftly swiped the hair out of your eyes with a single thumb, just barely brushing your skin with his own. His eyes found yours in a breathless escape, attempting to analyze what you were feeling. Theo could hear his heartbeat in his ears and he wondered if you could hear it as well. His hand fell limp at his side in an embarrassed fashion.

Your mouth opened as if to speak but closed once more. You seemed to be debating on whether or not to say what was dancing on the end of your tongue. Theo desperately wanted to hear what you had to say. He wanted to know if it was a negative or a positive that he had touched you in that way. 

"Teddy—" you began but Theo pressed his lips to yours before you could finish. It hadn't been something he’d thought about before doing. He just did it. His hands remained tightly pressed into his lap, not wanting to push himself onto you any further. He felt bad for doing this in the first place, he just needed to feel the person he'd known for so long in the way he desired. He expected you to push him away or run or something but by the time he realized those things could possibly happen, he knew that this kiss had been extended much too long to be a hormone-fueled act of blind passion. 

Your lips no longer remained dormant but moved against his. Yours cradled his bottom lip with a gentle touch—much too gentle for him. He pressed his hands to either side of your face, pulling himself onto his knees. You rested comfortably between his thighs, knees dug into the mattress, as your shoulders were against the headrest. He steadied you, feeling his fingers trace the lower part of your posture. Theo groaned breathlessly into your mouth, politely insinuating that he needed a breath. 

You slowly pulled away, your lips joined in a messy trail of spit that disconnected as you rested your forehead against his. Blue eyes met yours in a frenzied heat of repressed desire as dry throats held the hunger of fasting lovers. Your thumb gently stroked his cheek, eyes flickering down from his bewitching eyes to his swollen lips, painted with your love. 

"More."

It was a single whisper. Nothing too dramatic or emotional, just the hoarse beg of a starved man. You took Theo’s lips back onto your own, much more fervently than before, feeling his desperate breath against your cheeks. Theo’s hands fell to your hips, his fingers brushing the bare skin there. You winced into his mouth at the cold touch of his rings, your fingers tightening into his hair.

Theo pushed off from the headboard and gently laid you back on the bed. He hovered over you in a protective guard, shielding you from all other eyes in the outside world. His lips touched against your neck like a feather, only barely ghosting against your soft flesh. You knew that the man above was like a god and you worshiped him as such. Lips to skin, teeth to bone. The young god's hands held onto you like a lifeline, exhaling syllables packed with amour and white-hot lust in your ear. 

Theo’s hand slid delicately beneath your shirt, caressing the warm skin stretched over your ribs. You could feel his heart drumming through the rest of his body like a bomb ticking away. It teased you, daring you to take control. He wouldn't let you, though, you knew this well enough. The man in question slid down your body and pulled you by the back of your knees until your head was resting against the pillow. His knees lock you in place. You couldn't go anywhere even if you wanted to.

"Are you sure, love—" Theo whispered breathlessly.

"Merlin, Theo, yes," you spoke. You were surprised you even got the words out with the way your pulse was pounding in your ears. It knocked against your brain, imprinting a tattoo of lust within your skull.

If Theo died right now and the last thing he saw was you beneath him, pressing your lips against his undeserving flesh and tracing your fingers down every individual scar, freckle, and anomaly on his body, then he'd take it.

[atelierlili]

💚Fandoms United For Helene Relief💚

Recently, Hurricane Helene has devastated areas of Appalachia and in particular Asheville, North Carolina. It is the deadliest mainland hurricane in the US since Hurricane Katrina in 2005. Many have lost their homes, possessions, and are struggling for food and other basic necessities. 

The hurricane hit many areas that are historically impoverished, and the North Carolina State Climate office state that "the full extent of this event will take years to document – not to mention, to recover from."

Katniss Everdeen’s home, District 12, is set in Appalachia, and The Hunger Games movie was filmed in Asheville, NC, and so the Hunger Games fandom wanted to put together a charity event and invite our friends from other fandoms to join. You might have seen us before as Hunger Games and Friends for Helene Relief, but as tumblr has been cracking down on these lately, we were shadowbanned and terminated twice. Nevertheless, this is an effort that we find extremely important to address and have come back as Fandoms United for Helene Relief. Due to this, there have been a few changes such as an updated email and dates that have been pushed back. It’s also the reason that we’re posting this on one of our team member’s personal blogs.

Fandoms United for Helene Relief is a fanworks collection to raise money for local charities addressing the needs in Asheville, NC and other areas affected by Hurricane Helene. Fanfiction authors and fanartists from any fandom can volunteer to submit a new work to the collection. Fans who give to one of the approved charities can then email the event proof of the contribution and receive ALL of the fanwork submitted to the collection. 

Approved charities: Our focus is on local charities who have ties to the community, know their needs, and will stay for the long haul in these communities over the years as they rebuild. Our list of approved charities include organizations that help foster children, unhoused, seniors, animals, general relief, and more, for whatever cause is close to your heart. Information and links to their donation pages can be found on this google doc. 

Fanwork criteria: As mentioned before, the work needs to be new and not published on any other platform. We ask for a three-month period from the release of the collection until authors and artists post the work to another platform. Fanwork can be from any fandom, for any character or ship. All fanwork must be rated PG-13/T or lower. As organizers, we won’t be able to verify the ages of those donating for the collection and cannot risk sending explicit material to minors.

Timeline: We want all interested contributors to commit to the collection by November 2 by submitting this google form. Final works must be submitted to fuhrgames74[at]gmail.com by November 16. The organizers will then compile the collection and it will be released November 30. Those fans who would like access to the collection can email proof of contribution to fuhrgames74[at]gmail.com at any time up through December 30. Those who email prior to November 30 will have access on the day and those who email after release day will receive it as soon as possible once the proof of contribution is received. Fanfiction authors can then publish their work on other platforms February 23, 2025.

FOR MORE UPDATES AND INFORMATION PLEASE FOLLOW US AT @fandomsunited4hr !! I will be posting more info, which includes our featured artists and writers, there in the future.

Questions or comments can be sent here on our tumblr or emailed to fuhrgames74[at]gmail.com

Whether you write, donate, and/or reblog, we appreciate your support!

[dancingtotuyo]

Summer of '03

Joel Miller x Female Reader | A Woman Story

Rating: Pg- 13

Summary: The first time Joel sees you as the woman you've become.

Tags/Warnings: age gap (13ish years), baby sitter, consumption of alcohol, summer.

Notes: I'm calling this a bridge. A scene that happens in all the timelines and universes of my dear Woman Reader and Joel. Consider this the point of divergence. I wonder what happened with these two if the outbreak never happened? I suppose only time will tell... 😉

shoutout to @murder-wife and @guiltyasdave for beta reading! I love you both!

Words: 1412

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist

Joel isn’t sure why he came. The Randolf’s summer pool party is a block tradition, but Sarah is at camp this year. Meaning, he had every excuse in the book to get out of it but here he is, standing against the fence, beer in his hand, watching as the kids jump in and out endlessly as burgers and hot dogs sizzle on the grill and folks lay out in the sun. 

It’s not that he dislikes these events. Maybe he finds them to draw on a little too long until people get just a little too sloppy drunk, but Joel has mastered the art of excusing himself early. He’s only a two minute walk down the street anyway. It’s just that there are usually other ways he would rather spend his Saturdays. He has a couple neglected projects calling his name in the garage, yet he still finds himself here. For tradition's sake, maybe? It doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things he supposes.

Joel shoves his free hand in the pockets of his jeans, taking another sip of his beer. It’s hot outside as condensation drips from the bottle. He finishes it off, the label peeling off the bottle. His eyes scan back over the crowd. Most of the neighborhood is here and if they’re not, Joel expects to find them filing in soon. 

He’s doing a second scan over the crowd when he makes eye contact with you across the pool. You’re sitting with a group of friends perched on a couple of lounge chairs with wine coolers in hand. Joel tries to think back to the last time he saw you. It must’ve been last summer before you headed out for your Senior year of college, the last time Tommy got himself into a bind and needed bailing out. 

You wave to him, offering up a smile and he returns the gesture with a tip of his bottle before you’re pulled back into conversation with your friends. Joel can’t help but notice a slight change in you over the past couple of years. He supposes it’s the growth from teen to adult. You graduated this past spring. He remembers Sarah talking about it, how excited she was for you when you landed the ER job. 

Someone calls Joel’s name, pulling his attention away from you. 

You’re only pretending to listen as your friend Mandy rattles on about her recent hook up. Usually, you’d be interested in the details she’s providing, but Joel Miller has you distracted. You had hoped you would be past the silly crush at this point in your life, but your eyes track him relentlessly. Watching as he makes idle conversation with some of the dad’s on the block. You wonder how he’s wearing jeans in this heat. You don’t mind. They make his ass look good. 

You’re an adult with a job now continuing to harbor feelings from highschool seems silly, but there’s that little voice in your head now, the one that says you’re old enough now.. You’re an adult now. You’ve entered the workforce. You try to block out that voice. Joel Miller is not what you need, but you still want him. 

“Hey!” Mandy snaps her fingers in front of your face, pulling you back to the group. 

“Sorry, what did I miss?” You adjust your sunglasses, taking a sip of your drink as you make a concentrated effort to stay present with your friends. 

“Are you still hung up on the DILF?” Maryanne teases. 

“DILF? Where?” Whitney pushes her sunglasses to the top of her head, looking over the flock of people. 

Embarrassment heats your cheeks as Mandy points him out. Whitney is less and subtle. “You grew up with THAT across the street?” 

“Will you be quiet? Someone is gonna hear you.” You swat at your friends. 

“I’m just saying, I understand the crush now.”

“I don’t have a crush on him anymore.” You lie through your teeth and you’re bad at it. 

Mandy rolls her eyes. “Yeah right.”

“He is very handsome,” Maryanne adds.

You finish off your drink. “Can we stop ogling him now? He’s gonna catch y’all.”

“Really? You’ve been doing it for years, we can’t for five minutes?” Mandy winks. 

“From the woman who told me she didn’t see it.”

“Hey! I’m older and wiser now,” Mandy says. 

You roll your eyes, trying to keep your eyes from wandering to the man of the hour. You really need to get over this crush. “I’m going to cool off.” You finish off your wine cooler, dropping your cover up before jumping into the pool before your friends can reply. 

Joel lost count of his drinks around number three or four. He’s pacing himself, but between the heat and the ease in which his drinks are going down, he’s feeling the easy buzz of the beer. He’s stayed longer than he ever intended to, but he’s okay with that. 

Joel wanders inside to use the bathroom. The AC feels nice on his sweat sheened skin. People gather in the kitchen, a couple walk through the house. There’s more people than he knows here. He’ll hand it to the Randolfs. They know how to throw a party.

He’s grateful to find the bathroom unoccupied, locking it behind him. He’s quick about his business, splashing cool water against his face and neck. It clears his mind some. He should head home soon. He’ll be grumpy if he doesn’t take some time to himself. 

He’s barely flipped the lock when the door flies open, you falling in with it. He’s almost hit by the door yet somehow manages to catch you as well. You’re a fit of loose giggles as his arms wrap around your torso, meeting the sun warmed skin exposed by your bikini. 

“Careful there, Sweetheart. You nearly took me out.” Joel can’t help the chuckle in his voice. He’s used to seeing you on the clock when you’re responsible for his child. This is a very different version of you, but he can’t help but find it endearing. 

“Sorry.” You manage to straighten up, but even through the boozy haze, Joel’s touch sears against your skin. Your cheeks warm over and it’s from much more than the sun. 

He smiles at you, helping you right yourself, but his hands stay against your back. Yours settle flat on his solid chest. “You get a little carried away?”

“Don’t tell my parents.” You barely manage to wink, making him laugh even harder. 

“My lips are sealed.” 

“Oh good,” You sigh in relief as if Joel just did you the biggest favor of your life and you’re not of legal drinking age. “You’re a good man, Joel.” You pat his chest. 

“Thank you.”

“Can you leave now?”

“Sure thing.” He smiles at you, ensuring you’re stable on your feet before he slips by you, his searing touch gone. 

The loss of his touch sobers your intoxicated body. You can’t help but watch him go, cotton t shirt stretching temptingly across his shoulders. Chills form on your sides, phantoms of his touch still teasing you. You watch the empty hall in front of you, replaying the moment in your head for longer than you’ll ever admit to anyone. 

Joel lets out a long shaky breath as he walks right out the front door, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone. It’s a quick walk home, even with the buzz of the alcohol in his veins. On the walk home, he attempts to clear his mind of what happened, but he can still feel your soft skin under his hands. He can smell the sweet mixture of sunscreen and you like you’re still in his arms. 

When he makes it home, he still hasn’t flushed the sensations of you from his mind. The way you looked in that swimsuit, hugging you perfectly. He knows it’s wrong. It makes him a dirty old man. The more he tries, the more he thinks about it. The more he replays it in his mind. He has no right to think about you like this, to view you as desirable. 

Joel takes another deep breath, resting his head against the front door. You called him a good man, but a good man doesn’t fall into this trap: the babysitter, the girl next door. He repeats that to himself. Girl. You’re a girl, but his brain keeps reminding him that you are a woman now.  

Woman Taglist: @pedrotonin @amyispxnk @joeldjarin @ilovepedro @justagalwhowrites

@missladym1981 @jessthebaker @annieispunk @ashleyfilm @moel-jiller

@eloquentdreamer @lizzie-cakes @hiroikegawa

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Twelve

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : PG-13

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Some vague injury details/broken bone mention. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 5.2k

A/N : The aftermath of the last chapter.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN

MASTER LIST

Chapter Twelve

You were woken by the door rattling at your back.

Someone was trying to get into your room.

If it hadn’t been for the pain in your arm and the fact that you’d slept on the floor, you might have been able to convince yourself that everything that had happened last night was just some fucked up nightmare.

But hadn’t been, it had happened. Billy had hurt you.

The door jostled again, this time accompanied by a voice desperately calling your name.

Karen.

You managed to move yourself away from the door but you didn’t have the strength to stand. You felt broken and devastated, and all you wanted to do was lay down on the cold floor and go back to sleep.

The door swung open and before you could even look up, she was on her knees beside you, assessing your injuries. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her so, instead, you stared at your dresser, steeling yourself for the I told you so that you were certain was coming. It was your fault and you both knew it; she’d tried to protect you, tried to keep you safe but you had to act like you knew better. 

And this was the result.

You were hurt and Billy - god, you couldn’t even begin to imagine how he felt, knowing that he’d done this to you. Fortunately you were too upset to think about it.

It took a few seconds for you to realise she was talking, until she gripped your face and turned you to look at her.

“We need to get you to a hospital,” she said firmly.

When she got to her feet and offered you her hand, you tried to lift your injured arm without thinking. The pain had your eyes watering and, again, you found yourself wanting to just curl up and sleep until it all went away.

“Hey... hey, it’s okay, we’re going to get you taken care of, okay?” She said softly, moving to your other side so she could help you up with your uninjured arm. “You don’t have to be afraid, everything’s going to be alright.”

Once you were finally up, she helped you pull some loose sweatpants over your pyjama bottoms and a baggy t-shirt over your camisole. You stepped into your Uggs and Karen cautiously draped a jacket around your shoulders.

You were in a daze - you were in shock - as she slowly led you from your rooms and out into the penthouse. You breath caught and you faltered, taking in the destruction; there was broken furniture and shattered glass everywhere and Karen tried to usher you through it as quickly as possible.

“Where is he?” You dared to ask as you stepped into the elevator.

“He’s not here, you don’t have to worry.”

“Is he... okay? Is he safe?” As upset as you were, you were still worried about him. “I don’t - I don’t understand what happened. He was covered in blood...”

“Yours? Did he bite you?” The calm demeanour she’d been forcing threatened to break.

“No, I think it was someone else’s… or maybe his. He looked like he’d been attacked, I don’t -” you stopped as the elevator doors slid open, realising that you didn’t have permission to go out. Karen noticed your hesitation. “I’m not supposed to go out without permission.”

Some part of you knew that it was a ridiculous thing to care about given the state of your arm and after everything that had happened, but you followed rules, it was how you were raised. And, after the confusion of last night, you desperately wanted something stable and well-defined to cling to.

“You have permission,” Karen told you, “I’m here because Billy asked me to take you to a hospital.”

“You - you spoke to him?”

“About an hour ago. He wouldn’t tell me what happened or where he was, he just said you needed help,” she explained, ushering you out of the elevator and towards her car. “Curtis is out looking for him and Frank is going to help as soon as the sun sets.”

You fell silent as you got into the car, losing yourself in memories of the last couple of days, thinking about how he asked you to stay, and how he told you that he wanted to be yours. As much as you tried, you couldn’t understand how you’d gone from that to him hurting you.

At the hospital, Karen took care of everything and, when asked what had happened, you’d surprised her by telling the doctor that you’d fallen. He didn’t look entirely convinced but he didn’t push for the truth, instead focusing on dealing with your injuries. Your wrist was fractured as a result of a dislocation, the swelling all the worst for being left overnight. It was set before your forearm was put in a plaster cast, and you were given a prescription for some painkillers.

It took hours before you were finally able to leave.

When you returned to Karen’s car, there was a familiar face waiting for you.

“I told you he was dangerous,” Madani stated.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Karen asked, putting herself between you and the Homeland agent.

“Agent Madani, I’m with Homeland, Ms Page. I’ve been trying to keep your friend here safe.”

“Safe from what?”

“Her employer.”

“Billy didn’t do this,” you said, almost managing to sound like you believed it. “I told you to leave me alone.”

“I left you alone and this is what happened,” Madani answered back. “Look, just say the word and I can bring him in for this, press charges and we can get a dangerous -”

“No,” you snapped, “I’m not doing that.”

“I get that you’re scared but I can get you out of New York, I can get you back to your parents and your fiance. They just want you home safe.”

“No. I’m not going back to them,” you told her, quickly stepping around Karen and heading for the passenger door. “Just leave me alone.”

You got into the car and pulled the door shut, watching as Karen and Madani spoke for a minute more. You didn’t try to listen in to what they were saying, you didn’t want to, but judging by the look on Karen’s face, she didn’t want to listen to Madani either, but she took the card that was handed to her and put it in her pocket.

She got in the car and pulled away, leaving Madani on the sidewalk.

Neither of you said anything for a few minutes, but you could tell there were things that needed to be said, questions that needed to be asked.

“You have a fiance?” Karen asked, keeping her eyes on the road and missing the way you bristled. “Does Billy know?”

“No. And he’s not my fiance, he’s just someone that my parents want me to marry.”

“Is that why you took this job? To get away from them?”

“They owe him money - more than they could ever pay back - and he decided that he’d take me as partial payment,” your voice threatened to break under the weight of finally saying it all out loud.

“And your parents agreed to that?” She asked in disbelief and anger.

“Yeah...”

“So you can’t go back home.” A statement, not a question. “Is that why you’re protecting Billy?” 

“No,” you answered without hesitation. “I’m not protecting him, I’m just... I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You care about him.”

“And he cares about me. At least... I thought he did,” you said, blinking back the tears that were desperate to fall now that the shock had well and truly worn off. “He asked me to stay here in New York with him after my contract ends. I think I...”

Karen didn’t press you to finish the thought, you were pretty sure she already knew. You loved him. You’d fallen in love with Billy Russo, with the man who’d hurt you and left you feeling devastated and betrayed. You remained silent for the rest of the drive.

You arrived back at the penthouse to find Lissa waiting for you, a file in her hands. She gave Karen a curt nod before turning her attention to you. There was a noticeable hesitation before she said anything, taking in the state of you, her gaze lingering on your broken arm.

“Mr Russo informed me that you would like to terminate your contract,” she finally spoke, offering you the paperwork in her hand. “He wanted me to extend his... regrets and he has generously decided to offer a severance package of fifty-thousand dollars.”

“What?” You stared at the file in her hand, refusing to take it.

It felt like someone had just pulled the floor out from under your feet, like you were falling with no idea of when you might hit the ground. Lissa started to speak again, explaining again that she believed you had decided to quit.

“No, I -”

“Maybe you should consider it,” Karen offered.

You shook your head. “No. I’m not quitting. If Mr Russo wants me gone, he needs to come back here and fire me himself.”

“I was under the impression that you and Mr Russo had already had this conversation, he was very explicit in his wishes that I help you with whatever you need in order to leave his service.” You could tell from her tone that Lissa didn’t like being caught in the middle and that her patience was running thin.

“Then Mr Russo must have misunderstood. You tell him that I’ll be here until he has the guts to come and face me.”

Lissa let slip an audible huff of annoyance, finally pulling back the file she’d been offering you.

“Fine, but I cannot promise that Mr Russo’s offer of severance will still be available to you at a later date.”

When you didn’t respond, Lissa brushed past you and got into the elevator.

The second she was gone, a sob clawed its way from your throat. Your whole life was falling apart around you and you felt helpless to stop it. Karen wrapped her arm around you, taking you back to your room and sitting on your sofa while you sobbed. You didn’t understand why any of this was happening, things had been so good, things had been amazing, and it had all fallen apart without rhyme or reason.

She told you that she’d be staying with you for a few days and, eventually, convinced you to go have a relaxing bath while she ordered some food for you both. You did as she asked, feeling too overwhelmed and emotionally drained to even think about objecting. The whole day had seemed like a blur, like some horrible nightmare that you just wanted to wake up from. 

Then, over Chinese food, she tried to distract you with small talk, and got very little in return. You blamed the painkillers the doctor had prescribed and told her you were just tired. After eating, all you wanted to do was go to bed but Karen wouldn’t let you, and it wasn’t until you heard someone out in the penthouse that you knew why.

She led Frank into your kitchen and your heart threatened to stop. You found that you could barely even look at him, remembering the last time that you’d seen him and all you’d learned about him since the night of the party.

“Look, I uh - well, I know last time we saw each other things got a little awkward,” he started, folding his arms as he leaned back against the counter, “but I gotta ask you some questions, try to figure out where Bill is.”

“You haven’t found him yet?” Frank shook his head and your stomach started to knot with worry. “I don’t know what to tell you, he left for work and then -”

“Work?” Frank repeated. “He told you he was goin’ to Anvil?”

“Yeah, I convinced him to try and fix things with you. Didn’t - didn’t you see him?” 

Frank shook his head again. “Did he say anythin’ else? Can you think of anywhere else he might’ve gone before...?”

He didn’t finish. He didn’t want to say it any more than you wanted to hear it. 

Before he attacked you. Before he lost control.

“No... I don’t know...” you answered, trying to think but you were so tired. “He was talking to someone the other night about finding Krista.

“And you told Karen he was hurt?”

“I don’t know.” Exhaustion and frustration filled your tone as you raised a hand to cover your face.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I know you’ve been through a lot and I wouldn’t be askin’ but I need your help and I think Bill means somethin’ to you, so maybe you know more than you think,” he said, his voice softening a little. “He’s like a brother to me, I just want to find him and make sure he’s okay.”

You lowered your hand and managed to nod, taking a breath and trying to organise your thoughts. 

“He was covered in blood. His shirt was ripped and he had scratches on his neck, like nails or claws...” you forced yourself to keep talking despite the lump forming in your throat. “I tried to talk to him and get him to calm down but - but it was like he wasn’t even in there...”

Your voice caught and, for a moment, you thought you might start crying again. But that was the last thing you wanted. You’d cried enough. Now you just wanted the pain and misery to be over and done with.

“What about the Homeland agent?” He asked, and you glanced at Karen. Of course she’d told him.

“She keeps turning up, asking me for information about Billy, about the women that worked here before me. She thinks that he killed them.” You looked at Frank, gaze unwavering. “He didn’t, did he?”

“I ain’t gonna lie to you and say Bill’s harmless, but he didn’t kill any of those girls,” he told you flatly, meeting your gaze and holding it, leaving you with no choice but to believe him. “And if I’d thought he’d do anythin’ like that to you, I never would’ve let him hire a new one.”

“Because you turned him,” you muttered, “because you feel responsible.”

“He tell you that?” He sounded surprised that you knew. “It ain’t ‘cause I feel responsible, it’s ‘cause I know what this’ll do to him. Bill ain’t as tough as he makes out. This is gonna break him. Once he realises what he’s done to you it’s gonna kill him.”

You fell silent, knowing that Frank was right, that all of this was going to hurt Billy just as much as it had hurt you. And, in a lot of ways, it was your fault. If you hadn’t kept pushing him, if you hadn’t kept telling him that he could control without understanding it, maybe this would never have happened.

“Promise you’ll find him?” You asked quietly, sniffling and fighting back tears. “I just wanted to help, I thought I could help -”

“I know, I know you did,” Frank tried to settle you. “I’m gonna find him, okay? And ‘til I do, Karen’s gonna stay here with you.”

Finally, Frank decided to leave and Karen relented, letting you return to your room and climb into bed. She found a quilt and set herself up on your sofa and, as much as you hated her seeing you so broken and defeated, you were glad that you weren’t alone. Hiding under the covers, you pulled Bill the Beagle and William the Bear towards you and fell into a restless sleep.

The next day Karen insisted that you went out for breakfast with her. And breakfast turned into walking around New York and a trip to Times Square. At any other time you would have been amazed by the sight but you couldn’t manage to muster much excitement, even though Karen was doing everything she could to try and cheer you up.

She kept you out all day and, when you arrived back at the penthouse, it was like nothing had happened. Someone had been in and cleaned everything and had replaced all of the furniture that had been broken.

But there was still no sign of Billy.

Karen ordered pizza and, not long after you’d finished, Frank turned up. He had no news about Billy and no more questions to ask you, so you excused yourself and went to your room to read.

The next few days were more of the same. Your heart stopped every time Karen got a call or a message, hoping that it would be news about Billy. You were still hurting, you still felt betrayed and angry, but you were worried too, and all you could think about was what Frank had told you, about how devastated Billy was going to be when he realised how much he’d hurt you.

And, every night, despite Karen’s discouragement, you drew blood and left it in the fridge, on the off-chance that he came home.

On the fourth day, Karen decided to change tact, taking you out to dinner and then taking you to a bar to hang out with Foggy and Matt.

Foggy welcomed you with a friendly hug before pulling back and taking a good look at your arm.

“What happened?” He asked.

You shook your head and offered a shrug, “I fell. It’s alright though, it doesn’t really hurt anymore.” The lie came easier this time and Karen seemed to notice

“Well, I was going to say we could play some pool, but -” Foggy started.

“You and Karen can play,” Matt interrupted, “we’ll watch.”

You didn’t want to argue and, by that point, you were tired of Karen watching over you like a hawk, expecting you to break down at the slightest thing. Matt took your arm and you led him to a table near enough to the pool table that you could keep talking to Karen and Foggy while they played. 

Your eyes drifted around the bar - it wasn’t the sort of place you would have pictured Karen in, it was dirty, sort of a dive. Not that you had much experience of bars, in fact, you could count on one hand how many times you’d been into a bar. You wrapped your good hand around your beer and lifted it to your lips, grimacing at the hoppy taste.

“How’d you fall?” Matt asked casually, like he was talking about the weather and not a broken bone.

“I just tripped. I’m kind of clumsy,” you lied.

“Huh,” he hummed, “yeah, I’m always falling over my own feet too.”

“So, injuries aside, how have you been?” He asked, smiling. You were about to answer when you heard Foggy loudly complain about Karen sinking a ball. Matt laughed. “He’s always been a sore loser.”

“I’m not a sore loser, Karen’s cheating,” Foggy called from the pool table.

For a moment you managed to laugh but the feeling of levity was short-lived and you were soon sinking back in your chair, taking another slow sip of beer.

“Y’know,” Matt started again, “Karen’s a good friend to have if you’re ever in trouble, but I like to think me and Foggy are too.”

“Where are you going with this?” You asked cautiously.

“It’s just - and I hope you don’t think I’m overstepping - in my line of work, I meet a lot of people who’ve been hurt falling and I know that sometimes they need some help to make sure they don’t have any more falls.”

You put your beer down and were about to head to the bathroom to escape the awkwardness of the conversation when Matt gently grabbed your arm.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean anything by it,” he told you, “I just want you to know that I’m here if you ever need anything.”

“It’s not what you think,” you tried to explain.

“Karen called us for a night out to cheer you up, people have been looking for Russo all week, and you show up with a broken arm... it all paints a pretty clear picture.” He pulled his hand back from your arm. “But if you’re sure you don’t need help...”

“You know that people are looking for Billy?” You asked and Matt nodded. “It’s not - he’s not what you think.”

“I think that maybe he’s not what you think,” Matt offered in response, “and I think someone like him could be bad for a nice girl like you, could talk you into doing things you wouldn’t normally do...”

Your cheeks started to warm, trying to figure out just what he was implying. Did he know that you and Billy had been fooling around or -

No.

No. 

You didn’t even want to think of the possibility that Matt had somehow figured out you’d been wearing the toy at the party.

“Thank you,” you decided to say, trying to change the subject, “for being nice and trying to look out for me. I appreciate it but, really, I’m fine.”

Matt gave a nod and, for the time being at least, it seemed like that was that. You stayed quiet, watching Karen and Foggy play, occasionally explaining what had happened to Matt so he didn’t feel left out. And, as you sat, a thought started to worm its way into your mind.

“Hypothetically,” you said suddenly, “as a lawyer, do you know if it would be possible to get a restraining order against a federal agent?”

He seemed reluctant to answer, taking a moment to think about the question, obviously confused. 

“Well, I guess it depends,” he offered in response. “If they’re harassing you, then maybe. But if they’re working on a case, then no.”

“Oh.”

“... should I ask why?” 

For a few seconds you thought about everything, trying to decide what you could and couldn’t tell him - or if you could tell him anything at all. Then you let out a sigh.

“There’s this Homeland agent who keeps turning up and asking me questions about Billy,” you finally admitted. “She thinks he might have killed some people, but I know he didn’t.”

“How...” he paused for a moment, obviously trying to find a delicate way of wording it, “how can you be so sure?”

“Because one of them tried to bite me at his party.”

“What?” There was a spike in his voice and you couldn’t tell if it was shock or anger, but it was enough to put you on edge. “Is that why you vanished? Karen said you’d had too much to drink and went to bed.”

“A vampire tried to bite you?” Foggy chimed in, obviously overhearing the conversation.

You felt your cheeks start to heat as everyone’s attention turned to you.

“Start from the start,” Matt said, “tell us what happened.”

Letting out a sigh, you started to recount meeting Krista, and how Madani had approached you about Billy’s ‘missing’ former employees. Foggy and Karen grabbed chairs and sat down while you went over it all, explaining how out of control you’d felt when she’d spoken to you, how you’d almost willingly let her bite you.

“So she somehow got past Russo’s security to try to kill you?” Foggy asked, trying to put it all together.

“No, I don’t think she wanted to kill me. I think she wanted to turn me,” you tried to explain

“Wait, what?” Karen finally spoke up. “No one told me that part.”

“I - I didn’t mention it to Billy,” you admitted, and when Karen gave you a questioning look, you continued; “I think she knew that turning me would hurt Billy more than killing me. He hates being a vampire and he knows I don’t want to be turned...”

“I think the first thing we need to do is get you out of there,” Foggy stated, trying to be the voice of reason.

“No, I - I don’t want to leave. I can’t leave...”

“Foggy’s right, I know Russo pays a lot but it’s not worth risking your life over,” Matt joined in, “if it’s just the money -”

“It’s not just the money,” you told them, wanting to put an end to it. “I can’t leave him. I don’t want to.”

“Ah,” Foggy muttered, finally putting it together.

“I appreciate the help but, I just need this Homeland agent off my back while I figure out what’s going on,” you said with a shrug, as if it was really going to be that easy.

“Me and Foggy know a few people in the DA’s office, we could have an ask around and see if we can find anything out.” Matt offered before taking a slow drink. “But you’re sure Russo didn’t -”

“He didn’t hurt anyone.”

Karen gave you a look, not entirely happy that you were lying to her friends. But you weren’t thinking about yourself, about your arm, just Billy. Any hurt that you felt was between you and him.

Not long after, you told Karen you were feeling tired and wanted to go home, so you finished up your drinks and said goodbye to Matt and Foggy. On the slow walk back to Billy’s building, Karen got a call and, despite her deliberately hushed tone, you managed to catch the gist of what was being said.

Frank had found Billy.

When she finished the call, she didn’t say anything for a few seconds, obviously choosing her words very carefully before opening her mouth.

“Frank’s found him and he’s okay,” she started slowly, “he’s going to try to bring him back to the penthouse tomorrow night -”

“Tomorrow?” You interrupted, not even bothering to conceal your dismay. It had already been so long, now she was telling you that you had to wait another day before you could see him and try to figure things out.

“He needs a day to make sure Billy is alright, that he’s... safe to be around,” Karen explained before hesitating. “And he’s asked if you’ll stay out of the way...”

“What? No. Why?” Quickly becoming frustrated by the situation. “He needs to see me, he needs to see that I’m okay. You can’t just expect me to -”

“But you’re not okay,” Karen said, and you stopped in your tracks. “You’re not okay. Nothing about what happened to you was okay, and if Billy sees you like this...”

“It’s fine, I -” but you knew it wasn’t fine. Worse, you knew she was right. “I just - I want to see him. I need to know he’s alright,” your voice threatened to break. “It was my fault, I shouldn’t’ve -”

“No,” Karen said firmly. “None of this was your fault. Don’t you dare blame yourself. I know that you care about him but that is not the way to protect him.”

She started walking again and you fell into step beside her. Soon enough you were back in the penthouse, crawling into bed, and trying not to think about Billy coming home. You played the conversation with Karen over and over in your mind, wondering if there was anything you could do to protect Billy, wondering if maybe you should have taken his offer to leave after all.

(What if you were just making everything worse?)

The next day passed so slowly, and Karen made obvious attempts to distract you; first taking you for breakfast, then taking you out to a little gallery in Brooklyn to look at some art. When you got home, you drew some blood and left it in the fridge with the rest of the blood that had been piling up over the last week.

As much as you wanted to stay out in the penthouse as evening gave way to night, you let Karen convince you to go to bed, reminding you what you’d agreed to.

But, ultimately, you found that you couldn’t do it.

The moment you heard the elevator, you were out of bed and rushing out to the penthouse, despite Karen calling after you, telling you to wait. You came to an abrupt stop when you saw them; Frank practically holding Billy up as he dragged him out of the elevator. The second Billy’s eyes found you, taking in the sight of you and your broken arm, you saw nothing but pain and shame. He tried to pull back, and tried to slink back into the elevator, trying to get away.

“Don’t even think about it,” Frank growled, pulling him, making sure he couldn’t run.

Billy let out a pained sound that had you taking a step forward, wanting to do nothing more than help, but you quickly faltered when you realised that there was nothing you could do. You were useless and, if anything, your presence had made everything worse, just like Karen had warned.

Blinking, you realised that there were tears in the corners of your eyes, ready to fall at the slightest provocation.

You wanted to go to him, to tell him that everything would be okay, that you’d forgiven him. But had you? Could you forgive him when you still didn’t even know what had happened?

Karen’s arm wrapped around you, both of you watching as Frank dragged Billy into his rooms and closed the door.

As if realising that there was no way you were going to go back to bed, Karen led you over to the sofa and you both sat in silence as the minutes ticked by. You struggled and strained, trying to hear what was going on and if Billy was okay, but no sound escaped his rooms.

Your heart leapt into your throat when the door finally opened and Frank stepped out.

“What the hell, Karen?” He asked, annoyed that you hadn’t done as you were asked.

“It wasn’t her fault. I - I needed to see him,” you told him, feeling your cheeks start to heat. “What’s wrong with him? Is he okay?”

The question seemed stupid - worse still, it made you feel stupid. Of course he wasn’t okay, you’d seen the way he’d looked at you, the way Frank was almost carrying him. Part of you almost hoped that Frank would lie, that he’d tell you everything was fine and that Billy was alright. 

“He’s had a rough few days,” Frank answered, sitting on the edge of the sofa. “I’m gonna stay here tonight, make sure he doesn’t decide to wander off again. You can talk to him tomorrow, if he’s feelin’ up to it.”

Your mouth opened, wanting to ask what you were supposed to do if he wasn’t feeling up to it, what you were supposed to do if he never wanted to speak to you again, but you didn’t. All you could do was nod and agree to Frank’s terms, knowing that arguing wouldn’t get you anywhere. 

“Why don’t you head back to bed?” Karen suggested. “I’ll get Frank some blankets and keep him company out here.”

As much as you didn’t want to go, in case Billy came out of his room, you felt awkward and in the way. So, again, you nodded before slowly getting up and heading back to bed, where you’d spend the night staring at the ceiling and worrying about Billy.

Chapter Thirteen

End Note : 😅😅😅😅 Sorry that there's no Billy in this one. I needed to give them time apart so they could both really suffer. Don't worry, next chapter I promise you'll all get the answers to some of the questions you've had about what's going on.

As always, thank you so much for reading/commenting/liking/reblogging. Your support and kind words mean the world to me! I hope you all have a great weekend!!

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[seonghwaddict]

EYES DON’T LIE — iii. a worthy competitor.

synopsis. you've always resented jeong yunho, and you were positive that the end of high school would've marked the end of your rivalry and hatred. yet now you find yourself in the same crappy hotel as him. assigned to be right next to each other much like the good old times.

pairing. jeong yunho x fem! reader. genre. mini-series, fluff, slice of life, mature, academic rivals to lovers, non-idol au. chapter warnings. swearing.

word count. 2.1k. rating. pg-13

chapter ii. chapter iii. chapter iv.

yunho’s life post high school was blissful, to say the least.

he went to his dream university and just like you graduated as the top student of that year. not long after that he landed a job at a relatively large tech company and after promotion upon promotion, he became the multi-billion-won company’s CTO. He lived lavishly; a shining example of what he was able to achieve thanks to his determination and unwavering passion.

at least until all of that came crashing down.

because the CEO just had to get involved in activities that became the downfall of the company. unbeknownst to him, the CEO had been part of an underground piracy organisation and sold the private information of millions of users to malicious parties. when the news got to the police, well… it was chaos. law enforcement swarmed the headquarters to detain the CEO as well as anyone that was identified on the list of people involved. a mess that he had no part of.

in hindsight, yunho should be carrying more than the company card and a suitcase when traveling for business trips, during which all this news got out. but how was he supposed to know he’d go from a highly respected worker to jobless in a matter of 24 hours?

and so he found himself in a shitty hotel, paying with the few bills he could find after rummaging around in his bag. the company card declined when he tried booking a different hotel—the fancy one the company had paid for forced him to leave after they found out he was affiliated with that company. for obvious reasons, he had been confused until he checked his phone for the first time that day and found hundreds of notifications flooding the lock screen that depicted picture of him and his best friend.

speaking of his best friend.

as soon as got into his his temporary bedroom—aka the hotel room that smelled so odd he opened the window as wide as he could and stuck his head out to avoid the stench—he called the man he’s known since they were toddlers, ranting about the situation. unsurprisingly, he found the situation immensely funny.

“so you’re poor now?”

“no, mingi, i just don’t have my personal card. i’ll go withdraw money tomorrow morning.” yunho propped his camera up on the small desk opposite the bed, leaning back in the creaking wooden chair as he rubbed at his temples, dreading the oncoming headache he was starting to feel. “but i’m jobless, for now.”

mingi pursed his lips, nose scrunching as he looked at his phone screen, watching how distressed yunho looked. “how can i help you, then?”

a shrug was the first response he got. “just-” the rotating chair squeaked as yunho leaned a bit further to stare up at the ceiling for a moment before reverting his gaze back to his phone. “just talk to me about something else, distract me for now.”

“okay then,” the fake blond’s face brightened and a wide grin spread across his face as he sat up and leaned closer. “so, you know my boss hongjoong, right?”

and so the next ten minutes were filled with him gossiping about how his boss seemed to have the hots for a cute reporter. yunho listened, grateful to get his mind off his current predicament, but barely registered any words being said. he occasionally replied with agreeing hums or other reactions suitable for the context, but he couldn’t help but feel the tell tale signs of his body wanting to rest. mingi seemed to catch on as he paused his story and squinted at his phone screen, catching the way his best friend’s eyes drooped with fatigue.

“hello? earth to yunho?”

he stirred awake, snorting in a breath before yawning. he checked the time on his very expensive watch briefly before his eyes flickered back up to mingi.

“you look tired, man,” worry was written all over his face, sure he could already see dark circles forming under yunho’s eyes. “get some rest.”

“yeah… yeah, that’s a good idea.” yunho spoke through his yawn, hand covering his open mouth.

they said their goodbyes and ended the call. yunho sat in silence for a moment. he turned the chair, inspecting the bed. it was sad, small and pretty empty. wishing he was back home on his soft king sized bed, he poked the mattress, frowning at the firmness before pulling back and looking at the pillows. well, pillow. singular. while the mattress felt to stiff, the pillow the opposite. he got up to check the little closet for another pillow that he could stack on top to add some firmness, but to no avail.

after a moment of hesitation, he decided to ask the guy at the lobby if he could possibly have an extra pillow. before head for the door, he stopped in the bathroom, checking his teeth and brushing his hand through his dark hair, a little overgrown and resembling a mullet. he fixed the tie of his suit that he had yet to take off and left the bathroom, his hand wrapping around the door handle of the room and pulling it open.

as he stepped out, his temporary neighbour seemed to have just arrived. turning to greet the stranger, he stopped in his tracks just as she had.

what a perfect end to his day. the cherry on top, really.

truthfully, he hadn’t given you much thought after your high school graduation. (he actually did. a friend of his went to the same university as you and he’d occasionally ask him if he knew how you were doing). but seeing you now, he realised you hadn’t changed much. of course, you seemed to have a grown a tiny bit and you looked more mature, but those eyes—those soft eyes, so pretty, red and puffy through your tears—were undeniably yours. he recognised you before he recognised the state you were in, a sobbing mess. in all the years he had known you, he doesn’t recall ever seeing you cry. seeing you like this, with flushed and tear stained cheeks, made his head spin for a moment.

before he could open his mouth to say anything, you were gone. he watched the door of your room fall shut, followed by a thud from inside the room. what it may have been—a kick to the wall, a punch, an item thrown across the room—he wouldn’t have been able to tell as he stared at the door dumbly. he wasn’t sure how long he stood there, but what else was he supposed to do when he ran into you of all people in this obscure hotel and somehow ended up next to each other?

watching you disappear through that door reminded him too much of the last time he saw you.

though it had been a warm summer, it rained on the last day of school. having checked the weather, he brought an umbrella with him. but as he watched you stand front of the entrance of the school, alone and looking out into the rain without a jacket, let alone an umbrella, with a conflicted frown and nothing to protect you from the rain but the roof, he found himself caring about you. before he realised it, he stood in front of you, holding out his black umbrella and consequently getting a little wet.

you couldn’t help but stare at him, your gaze switching between his unusually sincere face and hand extending the red handle of the umbrella. you shook your head, insisting that you won’t take it, but he cut you off.

“come on, it’s just an umbrella, i have no problem walking home in the rain.”

“no, please, yunho, it’s your umbrella, i’ll figure something out. you’ll get sick.”

after some more back and forth, he offered a compromise. you could walk home together.

and that’s exactly what the two of you did. you walked side by side, squeezed together under the umbrella, droplets of rain occasionally hitting your right shoulder or his left shoulder. despite the weather, it was oddly peaceful. a steady conversation flowed between the two of you, free of any teasing or insults. you weren’t quite sure why he was being so nice, but you supposed it was the last you’d see each other before heading separate ways.

unfortunately, the two of you thought at the time, you lived in the same apartment building. while you lived on the third floor, he was up on the fifth. he decided it only made sense to walk you to your place first. unlike your walk outside, the short journey from the elevator to your front door was dead silent. even when you got to the front door, neither of you spoke for a moment until he cleared his throat, his voice almost… emotional?

“i guess this is it, huh?”

“yeah… i guess… have fun finding a better, funnier, smarter rival in college.”

“nah, i don’t think i’ll even bother.”

“hm? really? i thought you’re all about that competition.”

“yeah, but you’re the only person worth competing with.”

he’d never forget the way your eyes widened comically as you looked at him after that, a blush so faint it was easy to miss in this horrible lighting. maybe all the people saying you’d make a good couple were on to something. still, he knew you’d never see each other again, there was no point in trying anything. his cell phone rang, interrupting the tense silence. it was his mother, telling him to hurry and get home.

“i… uh, i have to go… but i’ll see you around, someday?”

you smiled, a smile so genuine his stomach did a cartwheel.

“i’ll see you around, someday.”

you stared at each other for a moment, stood across from each other in the hallway. he wasn’t sure what to do. should he hug you? should he just turn and leave? you seemed just as conflicted. after a long minute, you both extended your hands for a handshake at the same time. a small laugh was shared as your hands intertwined in a slow handshake, holding onto each other a few moments too long. his thumb rubbed over the back of your hand gently. he gave it a small squeeze before letting go and bowing his head, winking playfully.

“good luck out there, y/n.”

“likewise, yunho.”

and with the you disappeared through the front door, much like you had moments ago. though at that time you didn’t look so heartbroken. eventually he got himself to put one foot in front of the other and head to the lobby for his original mission.

he thanked the lobby man quietly as he was handed two more pillows, his mind still occupied with you. you’d think that whatever he felt for you on that last day would’ve dissipated by now, but that was quite the opposite. despite it having been so many years, seeing you again felt like a punch to his throat.

on his way back to his room, he thought about knocking on your door for a split second. in the end, he concluded you probably wouldn’t want to talk to him. he wasn’t sure what he would’ve said anyway. hey, it’s really nice seeing you again, by the way did i mention that i’ve realised i had a massive crush on you that time we said goodbye and those feelings haven’t gone away?

no, absolutely fucking not.

he nearly slapped himself at the hypothetical monologue, dragging himself to his hotel room. a soft thump resounded as he tossed the pillows on his bed before undressing and getting under the thin covers. the time it took for him to fall asleep was unclear as he stared up at the ceiling. whoever rented the room above him seemed to want to make a joke in the ground, thundering stomps making the ceiling and his open window shake.

had he not stepped out at that time to get pillow and bumped into you, he would’ve probably been cursing and swearing to himself to get out of this place first thing in the morning. but, considering who his current neighbour was, he couldn’t help but think…

would one or two more days really be so bad?

[ lilo's notes . . . ] hii sorry it took so long to update this, i hope this makes up for it 💔💔 we finally get a little gimped into yunho’s feelings!! yippee!! i’m sorry he comes off as a little stuck up near the beginning, but please understand he went from a luxurious suite to a hotel on the brink of falling apart; i think most people would be a little disappointed 🙏🙏 he’s not a bad guy i promise

[ networks . . . ] @cromernet @wonderlandnet

[ taglist | series + permanent . . . ] @yuyusuyu @diorwoo @loveyluv7 @ad0rechuu @h-nji @nakiiko @lelaleleb @moon-gyus @baribaaari @bvidzsoo @kunikku @kyeos4ng @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbbg @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo

[krypticcafe]

Happy Super Late Valentines </3

rating: PG-13/teen

pairing: harry warden/the miner x gn!reader

warning(s): reader had a boyfriend, brief mention of cheating, small mentions of blood, violence, and gore, and harry being scary, for j u s t a bit.

synopsis: you had a shitty valentines day, and harry comes to pick up the leftovers.

a/n: okay, I haven't written fanfic in years, so please excuse me if this comes off as an uber corny dumpster fire. I'm just trying to have fun :'))))

So what if it's Valentine's Day?

So what if you wanted to spend a peaceful time with your boyfriend at home with some baked cookies?

So what if you accidentally burnt those cookies?

So what if you were so paranoid that it felt like someone was watching you the entire time?

So what if your boyfriend pushed asked you to go with him and his friends in some spooky abandoned mineshaft?

So what if you were surrounded by couples making out in a cramped, dark, and cold nooks and crannies and one of them happened to be your best friend and your now ex-boyfriend?

So what if you lashed out, dumped him, stormed out of the cave only to get more lost due to the heat of your anger?

It's fine. It's whatever. Could be worse.

Or at least that's what you told yourself to cope with the shredding of your heart and the burning tears.

Oooooh, but that bastard! The audacity to cheat on you, with her of all people! And he was such an idiot to do so after inviting you to come! Did he not think for a fraction of a second that he'd get caught? Or did all the blood in his brain just go to his dic-

God, what were you thinking, coming here with those guys, giving him the time of day?

Looking back on things, you realized you dodged not a bullet, but a whole missile. But did it reslly have to be on Valentines Day of all days? The world really is just that cruel.

And it was about to get even more cruel.

Screams, maybe half a dozen of them, echoed and bounced off the walls of the cave, finding their way to you. At first, you assumed the group was messing with each other. Either way, you could care less.

Then they started growing more frequent and louder, and you scowled.

'In here after that fiasco? Really? Christ, I'm never going out with any of them ever aga-'

Then you heard a blood-curdling scream. Suddenly, you started to prefer the possibility of what you originally thought they were doing.

Your head whipped to the tunnel left of you as you heard a scream far too familiar, and your body began to curl in on itself as you sat in a ball in the corner.

Footsteps began beating from the same corridor where the scream originated.

Anticipating the worst, you wiped the blur from your eyes, took a deep breath, and braced your hand over a nearby stone that you deemed good enough to buy you some time.

The footsteps grew louder, but remained at a painstakingly steady pace, as if to tease your demise. There was a loud thunk! before the screech of metal scraping rock pierced your ears. You were half expecting to see the grim reaper at this point.

Instead, you were greeted with someone else who might as well be the same person. They were tall, broad, and clad in nothing but a full set of miner's gear. Not a single speck of skin peeked past any part of their clothing, and their mask even managed to hide their eyes behind the dark lens. With what little brightness there was provided by the dim cave lights, you just barely noticed the glistening of the blood on their uniform and the way it dripped down the tip of their pickaxe.

You recognized him as the man from the town's local urban legend. It always seemed cheesy and way too cliche to you but here you were, face to face with the man, the myth himself. Would he make you another one of his victims tonight? Would your death become just another story told at the campfire? The thought made your stomach turn.

The two of you stayed in silence, your hand still gripping the stone while you stared at the miner, searching for any movement that suggesting that you'd be the next one to eat metal. But all you could see was the way his chest heaved, rising and falling from what you understood as the cause of all those screams from earlier.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Clank!

To your surprise, he set down his pickaxe and approached you, kneeling down to your curled form. His head tilted slightly, as if to get a better look at you. A part of you wished you could see his eyes, wondered where he stared, why he stared. As embarrassing as it is to admit, you froze like a deer in headlights, squeezing your eyes shut when he lifted a hand and-

... wiped a tear on your cheek.

You didn't even remember the stone until he pried it from your hand and interlaced your fingers with his, pulling you up with him and into his embrace as he lightly petted your head.

Was he... comforting you?

It would've worked well if uh, he didn't reek of blood and dust.

Staying still as if your life depended on it (it probably did), you let him do as he pleased.

He pulled away from you but kept a gentle grip on your hand, nodding his head in the direction of the tunnels. You couldn't be bothered to question anything anymore, shock was the only thing that kept the fatigue from catching up.

He led you down countless tunnels and caverns, passing by bodies mangled beyond recognition, except for one. You were pretty sure that one was the cretin.

The entire time, the hold his hand had on yours was nothing short of soft and comforting, it almost warmed your heart. Almost.

Eventually, you found where he was taking you, back to the entrance of the mineshaft. He let go of your hand and urged you to the opening. Hesitantly stepping forward, you paused and looked back. He still stood there, though less menacing than he was before despite all the blood and dirt caked on him.

"I- uh... thank you."

Your voice was shaky from processing the events of the past few hours and you had no requirement to thank him, but you felt like you'd regret it if you didn't. The sentiment came across, and he nodded, reaching up again to trace a thumb on your cheek before giving it an affectionate pinch. You watched as he turned and left back into the abyss of the mines, disappearing into the cavern.

It was still dark outside, but you knew the way back from here. You were no longer shaking, nor seething, and the walk back home was oddly peaceful for it being so late in the night.

So what if you might want to see him again?

Bonus

The next morning, you woke up with your eyes feeling raw and your feet sore, but work calls and you had to get up nonetheless.

Nursing a cup of coffee, you checked your door for any mail, instead finding a bright red, heart-shaped box at your doorstep. Fortunately, it didn't contain any beating human heart as the urban legends told, but interestingly enough, a single wild rose and a card.

"Happy Valentines, won't you be mine? - Harry"

[louiseolivier]

Late Night Confessions

Read below or on AO3

fix-it fic. hurt Tommy. Very PG-13 rated. nothing crazy. Edited because I forgot a v brief sex description. 😬

Buck didn’t hear his phone ringing the first or second time it happened. He was deep enough in sleep that it may have filtered into his dreams, but any memory of those dissipated when his phone began ringing a third time. This time, the sound pulled him from sleep, but it probably had more to do with the fact that someone was also banging on his door. 

Because the phone was closest and he was still groggy, he answered it first, pushing himself into a seated position. “Hello?”

“Buck? I’m outside, man. You need to let me in.” 

Eddie. The feeling of disappointment was automatic. 10 weeks on, and he still had hope for another voice. Buck swung his feet over the side of the bed, eyes still closed, still half asleep. Awareness was slow going, but eventually, the questions started coming. Why was Eddie calling him? Why was he at the front door? What time was it anyway? Buck cracked an eye open. The loft was dark sans the ambient light coming from the buildings outside. It was the middle of the night, and Eddie was at his front door. Fear and nausea bubbled up in his chest, afraid of what he was about to ask. “Christopher?”

“Tommy,” Eddie corrected a waver in his voice. 

Buck was out of bed and tripping down the stairs. He slipped halfway down, caught himself on the banister, and slid on his ass the last few steps. Adrenaline was pumping, so he didn’t notice how hard he hit his tailbone or the scrape on his forearm that was pooling pinpricks of blood.

He opened the door, and Eddie walked in. Eddie pulled Buck’s hoodie off the coat rack Tommy hung for him and tossed it to Buck. “I forgot your key. I don’t suppose you have any of his clothes or the key to his place?” Eddie asked. 

Buck put on the hoodie and sat in a kitchen chair to put on the shoes Eddie tossed him. “I don’t,” Buck lied. He didn’t have a key, but he did have one of Tommy’s flannels, and the pajama pants Buck was wearing were Tommy’s, too. Those, along with a bottle of body wash that Buck sniffed to masturbate or cry to (sometimes it happened at the same time), never made it into the box back to Tommy. 

“That’s okay. I’m sure there’s a key with his possessions. We can get it from the hospital when we get there. Where’s your wallet and keys?”

“Dresser upstairs.” Buck shoved his foot into his shoe and called after Eddie. “He’s going to be okay?” He hated how much his voice cracked.

“He’ll live.” Eddie jogged down the stairs and opened the door, waiting for Buck to finish dressing. “He was conscious when they brought him in. The woman I talked to didn’t have a lot of details. He was in a car accident and was still in imaging when she called. Ready?”

Buck nodded, walked to the door, and pocketed the wallet and his phone that Eddie handed him. He called the elevator while Eddie locked the door behind him and asked, “How’d you find out?”

The elevator door dinged open. They got on, and Eddie said, “I’m his emergency contact.”

“Oh,” Buck said and blinked back the tears that started to sting. 

&&&&&&&&&

A teenager ran a red light and t-boned Tommy’s truck. Against the odds, the kid wasn’t drunk, just not paying attention. The driver’s side door crumpled into Tommy’s thigh, and a malfunctioning airbag meant Tommy’s head knocked against the side window before it was deployed. The glass cracked and embedded into his right temple. He had a concussion, and they were keeping an eye out for swelling. No fractures to his femur, but he had moderate bruising to his thigh and was being monitored in case they needed to drain the hematoma. All of it together meant Tommy was going to be grounded and on crutches for a month or two.  

Buck listened to the doctor and Eddie discuss how lucky Tommy was, and how it could have been so much worse. He bounced on his soles, wanting to escape into Tommy’s room. He was less than 50 feet away, but he was terrified of being stopped, of being told he was no longer on the list and, therefore, must be excluded. 

Eddie caught his eye and nodded towards the room and that was all the permission Buck needed. He slinked behind the doctor, avoided eye contact with the nurses, and slipped inside Tommy’s room to find that Tommy wasn’t alone. 

The man sitting next to Tommy’s bed was lean, with a long face and tan skin. He was probably around Tommy’s age and had soft brown eyes that watched Tommy worriedly. That was until Buck interrupted his vigil. The man looked up in surprise, but then a resigned understanding crossed his face. “You’re Buck,” he said quietly.

Buck nodded. “And you're...”

A sad grin crossed his face. “A placeholder.”

“Sorry?” Buck said with a shake of his head. 

“Don’t mind me, I'm being maudlin. I’m Mateo. Or Matt. He’s called me both. Although, I doubt he’s mentioned me at all.”

The name did ring a bell, and Buck quickly flipped through the rolodex of information he collected about Tommy—a sadly thin collection. One of the things he realized during their time apart was Buck barely knew anything about Tommy’s past. The person he was before he met Buck. He’d give an anecdote about the army or his childhood, hints of who he was under Gerrard, but never enough to tell the whole story. Buck hit a crisis point on whether he knew Tommy at all. The cool and confident guy he fell for crumbled when Buck suggested they move in together. Was it all a facade? What depths of trauma was Tommy hiding? 

10 weeks was a long time, and the conclusion Buck settled on was that the kind, tender man who showed up for him was real. That his surface cynicism was real, but so was the covert romantic. In the end, Tommy loved him. Or at least he was close. Close enough that Buck scared him so bad he bolted. And in that time, instead of being soured by the arms-length Tommy held him at, Buck had only become even more certain that Tommy was his best chance for happiness. Maddie promised the universe would send him someone, but the fact was, it already happened, and Buck wasn’t giving up. 

He had thought the ball was in Tommy’s court. He made the mess, and as soon as Tommy pulled his head from his ass, he’d be back at Buck’s door ready to explain. But standing there, after a close call, and with a man who seemed half in love with his ex, Buck realized he would have to take the reins and lead them back to each other. There was no other ending he’d accept. 

Mateo blinked at him expectantly, and Buck suddenly remembered a scorching day in July. It was after the 4th, and they were staying at Tommy’s because, despite the blackout curtains and the building's A/C, his one-story bungalow consistently stayed five degrees cooler than Buck’s loft. They sat on either end of Tommy’s couch, legs tangled, while a Dodgers game played, volume low on the TV, and Buck was giving Tommy an internet quiz on where to vacation based on his favorite desserts. 

Tommy picked a lemon tart over a chocolate gateau, and Buck was questioning whether he should ever let that man inside his body ever again when Tommy’s phone pinged with a text message. Tommy picked up his phone, and his face morphed from mild interest into a scrunchy smile of pleasure. He chuckled and started to type. Another message came through because Tommy’s eyes widened, and a high “Hello!” popped out. 

“What?” Buck asked with a hesitant smile. 

“I just got a dick pic.” Tommy chuckled, shook his head, and continued to type. 

“What?! Let me see.” Buck was on his knees, shuffling between Tommy’s legs. He still had a smile plastered on, but it was more strained than amused. 

“No,” Tommy said and looked a little shocked that Buck even asked. 

“Seriously?” Buck reached out, but Tommy moved his phone away.

“This isn’t a random dick, Evan. I know this guy. Look, I get it if you’re weirded out. I’m deleting the picture.” Buck sat back on his heels and watched Tommy tap his phone. “There. Gone.” Tommy flashed Buck the screen long enough to show only text bubbles, but not long enough for him to read them.  

“Who is he? Ex-boyfriend?”

“Mateo? No. K, I told him I’m off the market, so no more surprise penises.” Tommy tossed the phone onto the coffee table and wrapped his massive hands around Buck’s waist. “There’s only one dick I’m interested in.” He pulled Buck flush against him and proceeded to kiss him into oblivion. 

Even back then, there was a part of Buck that knew he was being distracted, a tactic to keep him from digging deeper, but the larger implication wasn’t something that even crossed his mind until after Tommy was gone. It infuriated him.

“You texted him,” Buck told the other man. He moved to Tommy’s other side, desperate to touch but not wanting to overstep while this new wrinkle blinked sad eyes up at him. “Back in July,” he added. The lighting was dim, but Buck was pretty sure he saw pink creep into Mateo’s cheeks and neck. “He didn’t show me if-if that’s what you were wondering.”

“It crossed my mind,” Mateo said, his eyes not quite meeting Buck’s.

“Were you with him?” Buck asked. 

“I was,” Mateo answered and lifted his right hand to show his pinky and ring finger splinted and taped together. “I got lucky.”

“Are you two fucking?” Buck hated how thin his voice sounded. He knew the answer, but he craved the pain of confirmation. 

“Yes, but it’s not what you’re thinking. I’m his designated rebound.”

“10 weeks is pretty long for a rebound,” Buck bit out. His rebound was a pretty, petite redhead who bounced on his dick and moaned like a porn star. It was fun in the moment, but when she left, Buck wanted to scour himself with a Brillo pad. His next hook-up was a man who had a passing resemblance to Tommy. Buck had thought he’d be able to purge whatever residual feelings he had left and come out on the other side with a clean slate. It didn’t work out. Again, the sex was fun, but after, Buck locked himself in his bathroom until the guy left. After that, he went back to baking and since picked up cake decorating. He was getting pretty damn good at that too.

“It’s only been three, actually. I was seeing someone up ‘til then. Like back in July, he was seeing you when I called.” Still gazing at Tommy, Mateo said, “He loves you, but there came a point where protecting himself overrode that. Funny, since usually he’s the one who gets left.” His head snapped up to look at Buck, and he pointedly asked, “Do you love him? I’m assuming you do since you’re here, but I need to know.”

Buck nodded, unwilling to say those words to anyone until Tommy heard them first. 

“Good. Tommy and I have been doing this dance for five years, and his walking away from you tore him to ribbons in a way no one else has. And I was around for the Chester debacle. He’s stubborn, more broken than he lets on, and he’s VERY good at compartmentalizing. But I can promise you, you won’t regret giving him a second chance. You’re going to have to be willing to fight for it, though. Like I said, he’s stubborn.”

“I’m ready,” Buck promised. “I’m so fucking angry at him for putting us in this situation, but I get it. I do. I just want him back.”    

Mateo stood. He bent over Tommy, the fingers of his good hand carding through Tommy’s curls, and he bumped their noses together. Softly, he said, “I hope to god I never see you again.” He chuckled deep in his chest and kissed the corner of Tommy’s mouth. Mateo moved to the door but paused long enough to squeeze Buck’s forearm. “If he asks, tell him I left because he’s better off in your hands, and he knows that.” Mateo gave Tommy one last look and then exited the room. 

Surreal was how Buck felt, but he buried it and sat in the chair next to Tommy. He took Tommy’s hand in his and let himself fully feel for the first time since Eddie came banging at his door. He let the tears form and fall and pressed Tommy’s slack hand against his cheek. His anger still simmered somewhere low in his belly, but relief won out. Even the idea of a second chance could have been snuffed out in an instant if the accident had gone differently, and Buck cried tears of joy that was not the case. 

“You get 24 hours,” he told Tommy. “Once they release you, you get 24 hours of me doting on you, deferring to you, but after that? Holy shit, are we going to have it out. Because, seriously, how dare you make unilateral decisions for me. Especially since we both know they’re bullshit. After that, we should give ourselves a month to just be. I’ve missed you. I’ve missed waking up with you and watching all the dumb movies you think I need to watch, and just how easy it used to be. I think we deserve that reprieve because it’s going to get real hard after that. I’m going to tell you about Daniel and my parents and my exes, and you’re going to do the same even though I know you’re going to fight me on it. We need to talk about all the hard shit we avoided the first six months of our relationship. Like how much I hate basketball,” Buck ended with a chuckle. 

The door swished open, and Eddie stepped inside. “Any change?”

“No, he’s still asleep.”

Eddie stepped up to the bed and held Tommy’s ankle. “The doctor said he was acting agitated, so they gave him a sedative. Said it should wear off in another hour. I talked to the night duty nurse. She said you can stay as long as you're quiet and your presence doesn’t upset him, but you need to be gone by shift change.”

Buck nodded and gave Eddie a watery thin, “Thank you.” He cleared his throat and added, “I’m glad you let him depend on you.”

“That man is his own worst enemy, but he needed someone to be in his corner, and, well, I needed someone to care for. Even if that only meant drinking beer, eating fast food, and watching whatever sport was on TV.”

“Did you know about Mateo?”

Eddie looked behind him at the closed door, then back at Buck. “Is that who left?” Buck nodded, and Eddie said, “I have no idea who he is or what he means to Tommy. Is he going to be a problem?”

“No.”

Eddie nodded and patted Tommy’s ankle. “I should probably go. I’ll be back sometime tomorrow, but text me if anything changes. Okay?”

“Yeah. Hey, Eddie? Thank you. Thank you for including me.”

“You know, I almost didn’t. I don’t know what the answer is, Buck. I’ve watched the two of you act like smitten kittens that look at each other like the other hangs the moon. On the flip side, he crushed your heart and his own because...he loves you? Because your relationship falling apart was inevitable? Just as a warning, I don’t think he’s ready. But I also know your powers of persuasion and your need to at least confront him since he left. And to be fair, I cheated on my girlfriend and traumatized my son because I wanted to live the fantasy with a clone of my wife, so I have no room to judge.”

Buck kissed the back of Tommy’s hand before placing it on the bed. He got up and embraced Eddie tightly, thanking his friend again for giving him the opportunity for another chance, even if Eddie was dubious of their reconciliation.

Eddie chuckled and said, “Honestly, at this point, good luck. Either you guys figure it out, or you don’t. Just know, if it falls apart again, you’re getting me in the divorce.” 

Buck grinned, gave Eddie one last squeeze, and pushed him away. “Go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With Eddie gone, Buck flipped the chair around to watch Tommy’s face head-on. He brushed the curls on Tommy’s head before sitting down and clasping their hands together. “I love you,” Buck told him. “I’ll tell you again when you wake up, and every morning we’re together. I’ll keep telling you even after you finally accept it to be true because you’re not just my last, Tommy. You’re my only.” 

[mirchloe]

#psychonautssecretsanta2024

ho ho ho! it's the middle of november! that means, once again, it's time for the secret santa! last year went off without a hitch (if you just ignore how my main was shadowbanned for sending out the giftee assignments, which caused me to finally make a side blog lol), so i'm back once again with this event i've happily hosted since 2016.

hate to beat a dead horse because this is the same shtick as last year and the year prior, but i'll be tremendously busy in december. i will be more hands off and ask that all participants follow the timeline. without further ado, here's the timeline along with the rules!

TIMELINE

the application will be open from 11/15/24 starting at 4:00 P.M. PST and close on 11/25/24 at 11:59 P.M. PST. if you miss the sign up period, please message me immediately because i will begin pairing people up promptly.

between 11/27/24 through 11/29/24, i will send out giftee information to the account/username (twitter or tumblr only) that was provided, so please keep your eye on your dms. if i can’t reach you on tumblr, i’ll send an ask asking you to open your messages to everyone. that way, i can pass along your giftee to you.

as always, 12/15/24 is the check-in day. i will be going around messaging people asking for progress updates. this doesn’t have any specification as people work differently, so if you haven’t started, that’s also fine. it just helps me know where people are in their progress, or if they might need an extension. if you want to reach out first, that helps me mark you down faster!

speaking of extensions, please let me know before 12/22/24 if you will need an extension. life happens, and i know that from experience, so don’t hesitate to reach out. also, if you believe you’ll need to drop out, please let me know before 12/22/24 as well, so that i can find another santa for your giftee. you will still receive your gift!

gifts are due between 12/24/24 through 12/28/24. please tag your giftee, and use the hashtag psychonautssecretsanta2024, so that i can keep track of who posted. (of course, in addition, you can always use the relevant game, character, and pairing tags!) i’m very excited to see what everyone will create!

for those who asked for extensions, and for the santas who took on an extra gift if someone dropped, those gifts are due between 1/4/25 through 1/8/25.

RULES

adult/minor pairings and incestuous pairings are not allowed. requesting them in your application will result in you being removed from the event entirely.

keep your content PG-13/keep the t rating of psychonauts in mind. nsfw material is not allowed in order to be inclusive to everyone. to clarify, please do not request nsfw material that is graphically sexual or violent in nature.

be respectful of your giftee’s wish list, and do not share them. over the years, i have mostly partnered people based on similar interests in characters, pairings, etc., but there will always be different interpretations of aforementioned characters, pairings, etc.

i mentioned it in the above form, but please don’t give me any usernames that are for ao3 or discord to prevent any confusion. this event is also NOT associated with any personal secret santa events on any discord. this is strictly for tumblr (and maybe twitter).

not really a rule, but any received questions about the event will be answered and added to the reply section.

[kpopflowerfield]

High Hopes | wjh

ღ pairing: fem! reader x junhui

ღ word count: 1.9k

ღ genre: angst

ღ rating: pg-13

ღ warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, reader is a big over-thinker and is self critical at some parts

ღ networks: @k-vanity @k-library

ღ summary: your relationship with Jun is a bit on the rocks, making you worry that he is not happy with you and makes you question if you’re desirable to him, leaving you with the fear he’ll leave you.

↠ check out the rest of the tracklist here! ↞

You looked up from your spot on the couch as you heard the door close. "Hey, love! How was work?" You smiled over at Jun as you stood up. "It was fine." He took his wallet and keys out of his pockets as he placed them on the counter. You pouted at the cold shoulder. "Anything new happen?" You questioned as he pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth.

"No. I really don't want to talk anymore. I'm just going to take a shower," You watched as he walked into the bedroom. Breezing by you, he's never acted like this before, and it was weird and off-putting. You followed him to your bedroom and leaned on the door frame. "Want me to make you dinner?" You questioned, looking at his back as he put his dirty clothes in the hamper.

He shrugged in response as you sighed. "Is something wrong?" you looked over at him as he turned to look at you. "I am fine. Seriously, Y/N." He sounded stern as you stared at him. Just a simple change in his tone made you feel your heart start to weigh heavy in your chest. "Jun..." You started. His eyes shifted from the closet and back over to you. "Seriously, Y/N, it has nothing to do with you, I promise," His voice softened as he spoke to you this time.

You nodded in response to his empty reassurance. You kept pushing those other thoughts to the back of your head. Jun simply had a bad day at work, and that was all. It's only human that he doesn't want to talk about it. You've done the same in the past, but you never caught an attitude, and you opened up to him by the end of the night, at least.

You really wished it was that one night, but it seemed like he was having just a bad week overall. No matter what you did, he was still so miserable and acting like he would rather be doing anything than being home with you. You kept telling yourself it was nothing. Ignoring the anxiety that was eating you from within. You sat on the couch, like you always did, hoping that whatever gotten into Jun was out of his system, it was the end of the work week.

He opened the door, pausing your thoughts as you looked over at him. "How was work?" You still wanted to ask; if his words didn't say it, his subtle actions would. "It wasn't too bad today," he nodded slightly as he removed his shoes and headed to the bedroom. You exhaled a breath you didn't even know you were holding. Maybe this will be a more enjoyable evening for each other.

He sat down next to you on the couch. He looked comfy in his sweatpants and loose t-shirt. "What would you like to eat tonight?" You looked over at him, a soft smile gracing your face. "I was thinking maybe we can eat out," he looked over at you, seeing if you liked that idea. He smiled seeing you nod quickly. You let him pick everything, wanting to keep him in the better mood he was in.

You turned on the TV show he liked as you sat there together, almost cuddling up. Intimacy was extremely rare the past week as he was too busy with whatever attitude he had going on. You watched his expression for a moment, seeing the peaceful, soft smile gracing his face as you leaned your head on his bicep.

You were surprised when he didn't push you off or tense up. You shut your eyes, resting your head against him. Finally, having him close for a night was doing wonders for your overworked mind. His soft hand resting on your lower thigh made your eyes open so you could see it. Feeling it was one thing, but you needed to witness his touch, which you'd been missing.

You look at his face, studying it to see if he was aware he was finally touching your skin again. You spaced out as you got lost looking at him; he really was the most attractive person you've ever laid eyes on. Even just sitting on the couch in his lounge clothes, he was still the most jaw dropping, handsome guy to ever exist. You couldn't help yourself as you kissed his neck. You could feel him swallow as you kissed his sweet spot, nibbling lightly. He tasted so sweet and you couldn’t get enough.

You felt his hand on your leg a bit stronger, taking you away from the fantasy you were indulging yourself in. "I'm really not up for that," He looked over at you as you nodded, moving away from him. You weren’t upset about being denied sex, but those positive thoughts you had earlier disappeared as you started to wonder about actually having sex with Jun. It had to have been almost three weeks, and it was unlike your usual sex life together.

You were so lost in thought that you didn't even realize Jun left your side and went to bed. You stood up and turned everything off for the night. You walked into the room and headed straight to your bathroom. You took a deep breath as you shut the door behind you.

You rubbed your eyes and stared in the mirror; you couldn't help but wonder what Jun suddenly found so unappealing that he wouldn't even touch you. You stared at every feature you could until nothing was making any sense anymore. You scoffed to yourself and shook your head, turning off the light before going out to your bed. You carefully pulled the sheets back, not wanting to disturb Jun, who had already fallen asleep.

The hope of falling asleep to put your mind at peace failed as you tossed and turned all night, your stomach churning with every new thought that came to mind. You kept telling yourself it was just work, but adding up from the last time you'd had sex made you worry it was something else. Or, instead, there was someone else. You wanted that idea out of your head desperately, but being left in the dark wasn't much help for you to think of another reason for him to be such an asshole out of nowhere.

You beat yourself up too much before finally coming to terms with the fact that you needed to speak up. You planned out the words that you needed to say, adding more every day that he has come home in a terrible mood. You waited for him to at least be in a better mood so you could have a conversation. Your nerves were skyrocketing as you waited for him to open the door.

You bounced your leg as you heard the door unlock. "Jun," You started. "Not really in the mood to talk today," He beelined for the bedroom as you looked over in disbelief. You took a deep breath as you followed him to the bedroom. You’ve been putting it off for too long, you just needed to say it. "We need to talk," You demanded as he looked over at you. "What?" He couldn't help but question. "What is wrong? Don't say nothing because you've had a stick shoved up your ass for weeks and have been taking it out on me."

He watched every word that left your lips and the way you crossed your arms over your torso. "For the millionth time, nothing is wrong." He exhaled as you scoffed at him. "Did I do something then?" You raised your eyebrow as he shook his head. "I don't even know where you'd come up with that," He grumbled.

"Tell me what is fucking wrong, Jun! I'm tired of this," You blustered as you shot daggers through him. Jun's blood was boiling; he tossed the mail he had in his hands on the bed. "Fine! Because you want to know what's wrong so fucking desperately, there's shit going on in my family. I've been picking up hours to help them, my boss is a fucking cock sucker, and then I come home to a thousand questions every fucking hour. I am at my limit, Y/N!" Jun exploded.

Your eyes widened at his outburst. He grabbed the suitcase he had on the side of his nightstand. "I'll be back in a week. I'm going home." He tried to push by you as you held your ground like a brick wall. "No! I can't even explain myself before you fucking leave me for a week," You were seething as he stepped back from you. He made a gesture with his hand for you to go on.

You scoffed at the petty gesture. "anyways," You took a deep breath. "You've been nothing but an asshole every single day that you have come home. I understand why now, but you left me in the dark every fucking day. I started to think you wanted to not be with me because I didn't make you happy or because there was someone else. The other night, I stood in our bathroom, lost in thought of what had possibly changed in the last three weeks." You teared up. "If only you could've grown up and spoken more than ten words a day to me," You shakily sobbed, overwhelmed with the emotions that took over.

Jun stood there, his hand moving away from the carry-on suitcase he had by his side. "Listen, Y/N, I'm really sorry," He reached out for you. You bit the inside of your lip, then gave in, wanting his embrace again. "I should've told you; I didn't mean to be such so awful; I wish you told me a few weeks ago how you were feeling," He held you closely as you sobbed against his chest.

He pressed his lips on the top of your head. He held your sides, pulling you so you could look at him.. "Do you want to come with me to see my family?" He looked down, searching your eyes for an answer. "You don't have to; I wanted to put the offer out for you, babe," He let go of you as you nodded. "Yeah, I'd love to meet them," You smiled softly, your eyes puffy from the tears you were shedding moments ago.

The change for him was sudden and easy but needed for your anxiety. Deep down, you were still pissed off at him for being such an asshole to you when you didn’t do anything. The absence of the decency to explain what was going on was what made you so upset. You sat in the taxi with him, staring out the window.

“Jun?” You looked over at him. He hummed in response. “Don’t ever treat me like that or leave me in the dark. We’re in a relationship, so we’re together. Whatever is wrong with you, you have to let me in, at least. No getting snappy at me or two-word answers. It’s unfair to me.” You spoke sternly as he nodded. “I know, and I apologized.” He looked at you.

You bit your lip and thought. “Listen, I’m not trying to create problems for you or cause more stress, but if you talk to me like that again, we’re over. No reason to be disrespectful to me. Understood?” You raised an eyebrow at him. He pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth. He couldn’t say you were being ridiculous. It was fair since he would most likely react the same way if you treated him like that. “Understood,” He nodded. “Now, let’s just have a nice week to see your family,” You looked back out the window.

You bit the inside of your cheek, starting to worry that maybe you went too far with what you said. A chilling silence filled the rest of the taxi ride to the airport. You both got out and walked up to the service desk for your airline. “Hey,” Jun reached over for your hand which you gave to him. “I’m really sorry again,” He squeezed your hand lightly. You nodded in response as he looked at you. “I’m serious Y/N, I also hope you don’t think you’re out of line for saying we’d be over if I do that again. I think that’s perfectly fair for you to say. I love you, I will never ever treat you like that again,”

You nodded at him, smiling at hearing his words. “I love you too, Jun. Let’s just put it behind us and move on. I know you’ll never do it again,” You reassured him as you both got ready to get on the plane for you to meet his family for the first time.

[distantdarlings]

HABITUAL // t. nott

RATING: PG-13 / 4.3K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert (Requested)

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this (changed slightly)* Annoyed that Theo won't seem to make a move, despite your growing feelings for each other, you ask a friend of the both of you to help make him jealous.

+ WARNINGS - Language, brief sensuality, kissing, two time skips, making Theo jealous, brief fake-dating

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Ribs - Lorde

---

Professor Trelawney’s voice droned on as your quill lazily scratched across your notebook. You were between listening to what she was saying and sleeping, and your brain slowly tilted toward the second. She was rambling on about the properties of a crystal ball above all other vectors for sight-seeing. Something about its curvature made the answers come to you clearer…

Your quill tip ran dry and made a slightly louder scratch against the parchment, sending a nasty shudder down your spine. Your eyes darted over to your inkwell and noticed that it was practically empty. A deep sigh ran through your body, depressing your shoulders. Why was it you always ran out of something when you needed it most? Maybe grabbing a replacement would wake you up a bit. You raised your hand and waited for the long-winded professor to catch sight of it.

“Oh, yes, what is it?” she stared at you through her hugely magnified glasses, tilting her head back slightly to catch that sweet spot in them. 

“I’ve run out of ink. I was just wondering if I could—” A tap on your shoulder interrupted your question. You turned towards the owner of the hand and spotted Theodore. A small smile spread across your lips as a small backup inkwell was displayed in his hand. You nodded your thanks and grabbed it from him, intending to let the professor continue her lecture.  

“Never mind that, Professor Trelawney!” you said, flashing a brief smile at the eccentric woman. She nodded and continued as if she’d never stopped. You wondered when she’d take her next breath.

“You’re welcome, gorgeous,” a small whisper said next to your ear. You smiled at Theo’s flirtatious nature, knowing he’d use this little favor to ask for something in return later. He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before backing up. You rolled your eyes, promising to get him back for that.

By the end of class, your stomach was growling, and your mind was exhausted. It was a good thing you didn’t have divinity again until Wednesday because you didn’t think you’d make it if you didn’t get a small break from her each week. And thank Merlin, your next class wasn’t until after lunch. 

You gathered your things and let them slide into your bag. The boys behind you had begun to do the same as you headed towards the door. They were always behind you for whatever reason. You weren’t sure. Maybe it was just a boy thing. 

“Hey!” Theo’s voice came from behind you. You turned to catch him jogging toward you with his hands tightened around his bag straps. You stopped and flashed a smile, watching as his eyes briefly flashed down to your lips. You withheld any physical reaction so as not to embarrass him. “Are you still eating with us?”

“Of course, I am,” you say, “I always do. It wouldn’t be a good day without having lunch with my favorite boy.” You gently touched your thumb and forefinger to his chin, teasing him just a bit. You saw his lips part as soon as your skin came into contact with his—just as it always did. 

“I’m your favorite boy?” he chuckled, letting a smirk fall over his lips. He readjusted his bag over his shoulders. Your fingers came up to separate your collar from your neck, allowing just a breath of skin to flash over his eyes. You watched as he glanced down at every inch of you that was revealed to him, and his throat slid up nervously. You could play him like a piano, and it was addicting. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Mattheo asked, coming up behind the two of you. His voice sliced the tension between the two of you in half. 

“Nope, we were just getting ready to head down to the Great Hall,” you replied. “Are you eating with us?”

“Duh, who else am I going to eat with?” Mattheo asked. You rolled your eyes at him and looped your arm through Theo’s, allowing him to lead the way to the dining hall. Enzo quickly jogged up beside the group, falling in step with the rest of them. Your big brother had a habit of always being the latest to the party. It was one of his many endearing qualities. 

Your group appeared before the vast doors of the Great Hall, allowing them to quickly swallow you all up as you realized that everyone else was just as starving as you were. You selected your usual seats at the far end of the long Slytherin table and dug in. Soon enough, yours and everyone else’s plates were piled high with the many options laid out before you.

“Merlin, help us all….if that wasn’t the most boring class yet,” Mattheo sighed into his food. The rest of you laughed at his confession, all nodding in agreement. Trelawney’s class was rarely exciting, but when it was boring, it was really boring. 

“The only bit of excitement was you asking for some new ink,” Theo nodded toward you, a bit of a roll pressed between his teeth. You smiled and shook your head.

“And, of course, you were there, right to the rescue,” you laughed. “I was hoping I could leave the class and grab a replacement from my dorm to wake myself up a little.”

“My bad, I thought I was helping.”

“You were…unfortunately,” you replied. The four of you laughed in response, knowing well enough that they all had done something to try and get out of the squirrely professor’s class. A comfortable silence ensued soon after as the group finished up their meals and let the large meal settle sweetly on their stomachs.

“I’m really tired now,” you groaned, laying your head down against the table. You felt a hand reach over and gently brush its fingers along your hair. You assumed it was Theo, as he habitually absentmindedly touched you somehow. You figured you were a sort of stress ball to him. A small laugh touched your chest at the thought. 

“Teddy, can I sit on your lap?” you asked, already knowing his answer.

“Of course, love, come here,” he responded. The three boys had begun to discuss some kind of new broom headed towards the Quidditch market, and, to be entirely honest, you couldn’t care less about it. All the more reason for you to doze off just a bit in Theo’s lap. You pulled yourself up and stepped over your side of the bench. You walked around the edge of the table, sleepily approaching Theo. Though his attention remained on his friends, his legs slid open and his arm pushed out, allowing you to be able to slip onto his lap. 

You gently grabbed his shoulder and stepped between his legs, settling yourself on his lap. Once you were seated, his arm slid firmly around your waist, sliding his fingers comfortably beneath the waistband of your skirt. You set your head on his shoulder, pressing your face close to his neck, letting your lips brush his skin every once in a while. If he could avoid any romantic feelings from this, he either genuinely disliked you or was utterly numb to all physical affection. 

Your goal for the last few weeks was to muster up every bit of courage the universe had blessed you with and completely take it out on Theo. The feelings and the tension sustained between the two of you were too obvious for it to mean nothing. He had feelings for you, you’d bet your final grade on it.

Just as your lips brushed his skin a third time, you noticed a trail of chills travel down the back of his neck. He shuddered slightly. You suppressed a smile. Just a little bit more…

“Teddy,” you whispered in his ear. He all but jumped and turned to look at you.

“What is it, darling?” he asked, sucking his bottom lip roughly between his teeth. Your eyes watched the motion for a few seconds before popping back up to his eyes.

“I was just wondering if you wanted me to rub your back a bit?” you asked, smiling innocently. “I know how sore it gets after Quidditch practice.” 

His eyes glanced between your lips and your eyes, savoring every detail of your face. The front of his pants tightened a bit, pushing a small adjustment out of him. He grabbed your waist, lifted you gently, slid his legs forward and farther apart, then set you back down. Heat pooled in your lower stomach at his ability to pick you up like it was nothing. Damn it, you had a raging crush on him.

“Uh, no, darling,” he breathed, eyes fully pulling away from you now. “I’m alright, maybe another time…and, actually, I think I’ll just…” he trails off, gently sliding you off his leg and onto the seat next to him. Disappointment and rejection swirl in your chest with every aching breath. He’d never done anything but be affectionate with you, but for some reason, he was acting off today. 

He got to his feet, completely avoiding all eye contact, and headed off from the table with another word. Your lips parted in surprise as you watched him walk off towards the exit. The boys behind you had stopped talking, and you turned to catch their attention.

“What is his problem?” Mattheo asked.

“I have no idea,” you respond slowly, glancing back toward the double doors as if he might walk in again. 

xxx

Later that evening, after all of your classes for the day had ended and dinner was revving up in the Great Hall, you sat on your bed, torn between a couple of things. For one, you were starved and wanted to grab some dinner; two, you were too scared you’d bump into Theo while you were down there and add a second painfully awkward interaction to the day; and three, your stomach was churning so violently with nerves and nausea, you were sure you’d puke if you ate anything or had one more thought about Theodore Nott. 

Every time lunch popped into your head again, you nearly hurled. That was easily one of the most embarrassing things that had ever happened to you, and you’d fallen off your broom during Quidditch while the whole school was watching. 

Maybe he’d lost feelings for you. That would explain the strange distance between the two of you today. But it didn’t make sense why it was so sudden. Had you upset him or made him uncomfortable today? You weren’t sure. Your brain ached from all of the contemplating and speed runs of scenarios you’d been doing the past hour. 

You could ask Enzo or Mattheo to see if they had any insight into their friend’s brain, but you figured that might be a little rude. You didn’t want Theo to think you were a coward or were trying to talk about him behind his back. Fuck.

Then, as if he was summoned by the force of your mind, Mattheo Riddle gave a brief knock and presented himself in the doorway. A smile pulled its way across your face at the appearance of the dark boy. You waved him over and gave a small pat to the space beside you.

“Hey,” he said, sliding himself beside you.  

“What’s up?” He kicks his shoes off and props his feet onto the bed, one resting comfortably over the other.

“Nothing much. I was just coming to see if you knew what was up with Theo today?” he asked, crossing his hands over his stomach.

“Actually, I was just thinking of coming to ask you or Enzo that,” you admit. “I have no idea what happened today. We didn’t talk the rest of the day.”

“Weird…” Mattheo trailed off. There were a few moments of empty silence as the two of you rested against your headboard, basking in each other’s company. After a while, his arm came up to slide around your shoulders. You slid closer to him and rested a head on his shoulder, the collar of his shirt gently tickling your nose. 

If you could remain like this for the rest of forever, you would. Mattheo had always been like another brother to you. Another overprotective Enzo to watch over you in everything you did, and, as annoying as that sounded (and sometimes was), you really did appreciate having them around you. You enjoyed Theo in that way, as well, though you admit that you wish something more would bloom between the two of you. A thought pops into your head.

“Matty,” you breathe, your eyes widening significantly. His eyes follow yours to see if he could catch what had shocked you so much.

“What?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“If I ask you for the hugest favor on earth, would you do it?”

“Well, that is kind of vague,” he points out, “what is the favor?” He watches you for a few moments as you struggle with what to say. A million details are running through your head, with possibilities and worst-case scenarios flashing around, making everything seem like one big, jumbled mess in your brain. But, despite the cacophony of opportunities flying around in your head, one thesis stood clear.

“Would you help me make Theo jealous?” you ask. Mattheo choked on his spit. The face he gives you makes you laugh out loud.

“I’m sorry?” he asks.

“I want you to help me make Theo jealous, like, you know, pretend to date me for a few days.” 

“Are you joking? Theo would kill me. I’m not risking that!” he exclaims, removing his arm from behind you to cross them. 

“Please, Matty, I’d never ask you for another favor again!”

“No! He already likes you. Why don’t you just ask him out?” he asks. You knew that Theo had feelings for you, just as he knew you had feelings for him, but hearing Mattheo confirm that aloud had you blushing. You supposed there was always the possibility you were wrong about Theo liking you and the two of you were just friends, but friends didn’t look at each other like the two of you did with eyes full of longing and hot lust. 

“Because I’m too nervous. I want him to make the first move,” you explain. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. A deep sigh pushed through his nose as he appeared to be contemplating. You waited in silence for a few moments, allowing him to weigh his options, though you knew what his answer would be. He never told you no.

“Alright—” 

“Yes! Oh, thank you, thank you! I promise I’ll make it up to you!” You threw yourself onto him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. He groaned at the sudden weight flung over him and reluctantly held you back. You could practically hear him rolling his eyes but, no matter how close he got to Theo, he’d always had a soft spot for you. You smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Okay, okay, back up,” he sighed. “How do we do it?” 

“So, this was my plan…” 

You went over every detail of the well-thought-out plan you’d devised over the last few hours, making sure to leave nothing out. Every few moments, Mattheo’s eyebrows would raise, or he would start to protest, but he never backed out. And if he tried to, you’d just beg him some more.

So once you’d gone over everything successfully, you had Mattheo lead you downstairs with your fingers intertwined together. This had to work. 

The two of you stalked into the Great Hall, your stomach churning with anxiety and Mattheo’s preparing himself to run if needed. Your fingers squeezed his every so often, trying to wring the nerves out but failing miserably. Your eyes landed on the group sitting at your table and you made your way over.

“Hey, guys…” Enzo started and trailed off as his eyes traced the two of you, falling to where the two of you met in the middle. At Enzo’s sudden silence, Theo turned to look at the two of you. Your intertwined fingers clenched tightly, Mattheo’s thumb lightly tracing yours. 

“Hey,” you said, smiling sweetly. You avoided all eye contact as the two of you sat down beside Enzo, with you directly across from Theo. Mattheo’s arm wrapped around your shoulders and you leaned into him. Still, you refused to look at Theo, but out of the corner of your eye, you could see his eyes widened and lips slightly parted. 

“Friendly tonight, are we?” Enzo asked, stabbing a bit of potato with his fork. He seemed to be hiding a smile. You shot him a knowing glance.

“Shut up,” you joke. “We’ve just…”

“Gotten a bit closer?” Mattheo pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, and you giggled in response. Damn, this acting deserved an award. You glanced at Theo's fist tightening, joints cracking slightly.

“Since when?” he asked, his voice baring through gritted teeth. Your eyes found him finally and your smile dropped a bit.

“Since he asked me out earlier today,” you retorted, the attitude laid on just a bit. His lips snapped shut and his eyes glanced away. He seemed less confident now, because—you hoped—he’d figured out your irritation with his refusal to move forward with your relationship.

“So, are you guys a thing now?” Enzo asked, not bothered in the slightest.

“You could call us that,” you giggled, fake-teasing Mattheo. Nerves broiled in your stomach as you discreetly pinched his hip. That had been the code the two of you had come up with to signal when you were going to do your kiss. This was going to be the big sale and it had to be realistic.

He leaned down and gently cupped your bottom lip with his, sending a wave of butterflies to your stomach. Damn, he was a good kisser. You pressed your lips back into him, admiring the feel of him. In all reality, the kiss only lasted about five seconds, but under the heat of the eyes before you, it felt like hours. When he pulled away, you flashed him a small smile.

Theo rose quickly and headed to the door, never once looking back. This has been the second time in one day he’d stormed off and you felt a bit embarrassed, to be honest. Maybe this wasn’t going to have the desired effect. You groaned and set your head against the table.

“Not working out for you?” Enzo chuckled.

“Shut up!” you shouted into your arms, the sound muffled. 

“You know…” Mattheo was right at your ear. You glanced up at him, tilting your head to the side. “You’re a pretty good kisser.” A smirk spread across his lips. You blushed

“Ugh, stop, Matty…you’re a good kisser too.” The three of you burst out laughing, reveling in the appreciation of each other’s company, before remembering why you were here. You really didn’t want to continue with this, it made you feel guilty, and there was always the chance this wouldn’t work. You sighed. You would have to go big or go home, and you weren’t a quitter.

xxx 

The next morning was a Saturday and Mattheo and you had planned a fake picnic date by the Whomping Willow. The plan was to enjoy a meal right within sight of where Theo was going to toss a Quaffle around with a couple of his friends. This had to work or you risked ruining your relationship with Theo. You prayed that this would give him the confidence to approach you. 

The two of you set the blanket and snacks out, settling in and beginning to eat. Enzo said that he had overheard that Theo was going to head out around eleven. It was currently fifteen ‘till, so you figured it wouldn’t be too long. Or you hoped that, anyway.

“So, what if this doesn’t work?” Mattheo breaks the silence, nursing a small bottle of pumpkin juice. 

“I was just thinking about that,” you laughed nervously, “I don’t actually know. I’m hoping he won’t hate me, but I’m more concerned he will hate you too.”

“I’m not too concerned about that. It’s alright. I’m just happy to help.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want anything in return?” you ask, peeling the crust off your sandwich. 

“I’ll just hang onto the favor for a rainy day,” he smirks. You roll your eyes and laugh gently. 

Above the two of you, a group of four players on brooms soar over you. You gasp and scoot closer to Mattheo, getting into position. He wrapped his arm around you and started to pretend to joke about something with you. You glanced Theo watching the two of you every so often. He would look for only a few seconds before turning his head away when his friends called his name. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to get hit in the head with the Quaffle (in which case, you’d laugh, but now wasn’t the time for that). 

“You know,” Mattheo started, “this is nice. We should do this more often.”

“What, have picnics?” you laugh, popping a grape into your mouth. 

“Sure, if you want,” he chuckled. “I just meant the hanging out part. I feel like I only see you whenever your brother’s around.”

“Yeah, it’s almost like he’s my brother and I love him,” you laughed. He shook his head in an attempt to hide his smile, but soon enough, the both of you were laughing. His head was thrown back as it racked his body, and your hand gripped his shirt sleeve to steady yourself.

“Hey, I need to talk to you—” The two of you snapped out of your moment of comedy at the sound of a voice. Your eyes squinted against the sun slightly before making contact with Theo. Mattheo glanced over at you and shrugged his shoulders, urging you on with his hand. Theo reached down and offered you his hand, which you took and allowed him to pull you to your feet. He marched the two of you over to the nearest courtyard, never letting go of your hand. Your stomach flushed.

“Theo, what is—?” He pulled you to a stop behind one of the courtyard’s stone pillars. Your eyes found his; the only sound was the slight breeze and the gurgle of the fountain behind him. He glanced down to your lips, his breaths exiting in heavy pants. Merlin, you wanted to kiss him.

“I have to ask you one question,” he said. You started to speak, but his thumb pressed gently against your bottom lip. “No, just wait one minute.”

His eyes fell to the ground between the two of you. It appeared that he was trying to figure out precisely what he wanted to say. His lips parted several times, the words of confession dancing along the edges of them. The frustration in his eyes set off an ache in your chest that you couldn’t suppress. You wanted to kiss him so bad, so bad, so bad. 

“One question…and then I’ll leave you alone,” he said. You nodded slowly. “Do you really like Mattheo? Is that why the two of you are together?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. That was definitely different from what you thought he was going to ask. You stuttered a few times before shutting your mouth. You didn’t know what to say. His eyes refused to leave yours, beckoning every inch of the truth out of you. He wanted to know if your feelings toward him were the same as his towards you. He fought the urge to reach out and press his lips against yours. Just one word, and he would. You sighed.

“No,” you confessed, “I don’t.” His stomach flipped. Yours did, too. You wanted to explain yourself, run through every detail of the plan devised between Mattheo and you but you were too ashamed. Luckily, he didn’t care why you were with Mattheo, other than you didn’t care for the boy as he previously thought you’d done. His hands slid easily along your cheeks, carefully tracing the soft skin there. He was testing the waters, wanting so badly to touch you and anticipating the possibility of a slap. 

“Can I ask one more question?” he whispered against your lips, the salty taste of his sweat dabbing against the tip of your tongue. You nodded breathlessly.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his eyes never leaving your parted lips. You didn’t answer. You pressed your lips roughly to his, hearing the sharp intake of breath he took as his hands tightened around your head. He held you in place, pressing you against the stone pillar behind you. Your hands came up to wrap around his waist, clenching the material of his shirt beneath your fingers. His hands dropped to the front of you, pushing you tightly against the pillar, fingers curving against your hipbones. Fuck. You were such a coward; you should have done this ages ago. 

When the two of you finally parted, reluctantly choosing air over each other, you did nothing but stare at the other. Heavy pants left the two of you; your hands clutched the other’s bodies, leaving little space between the two of you. Neither of you had words. All he could think to do was fold you into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around you with a hold like a vice. Your head turned and tucked itself into his shoulder where it had rested so many times before. And through your contentedly parted eyes, you could distantly see Mattheo, on the picnic blanket, smugly raising his pumpkin juice bottle to the two of you.

[rorywritesjunk]

I have seen no other Who compares with you

Buggy decides you need your own 'look'. Rating: PG-13 to maybe a soft R. I can't help but write some suggestive stuff. Some being the keyword, nothing actually happens but a kiss or two. Warning: None. I know absolutely jack shit about makeup or greasepaint. A/N: Written from @sporadicthingcollection  suggestion! Thank you friend. And this is my third makeup related story and I had fun writing it as well because I wanted to keep it different from the other two. I also wrote this with LA!Buggy in mind specifically. Title comes from "Wildflowers" by Tom Petty.

“It’s all about the brand, babe.” Was what Buggy said before he forced you into the chair in front of his vanity. You wanted to protest, to insist that makeup really wasn’t your thing, but he wasn’t paying any attention at that point, too busy opening the drawers, pulling out several different trays of face paint. You eyed them suspiciously, not sure what the flashy clown captain had in mind for you.

“What brand?” You asked as he looked over the first one. “I mean, what are you planning to do to me, Buggy?”

He set the trays down before turning your chair to face the mirror. Hands on your shoulders, he leaned in with a grin. While you appreciated the makeup style he wore, it was not for you. The bones on his forehead and smudged red color around his mouth was something you liked on him but not you. However, you appreciated the glittery triangles around his eyes and how they accented the stormy color of his irises. 

You sighed in defeat and Buggy pressed a kiss to your cheek, dramatically smacking his lips against your skin with a loud MUWAH!

“First, gotta figure out your style.” Buggy said as he pulled away. “Can’t have you copying my look, of course, but maybe a look to complement it.” He spun you around in the chair so you faced him; he braced both hands on the arm rests as he leaned in towards you, your noses barely touching as he squinted, studying the features of your face. “You don’t really have a… gimmick.”

“What, warming the captain’s bed doesn’t count?” You asked, leaning towards him with a pout. This wasn’t exactly what you wanted to be doing. It wasn’t like he was insulting you, but Buggy was definitely dancing that fine line of you’re great, but- with how he was trying to figure out your makeup style, or the brand as he thought of it. 

His lips curled up into a smirk. He pulled back and reached over for a tray. Once the cover was removed, he grabbed a brush and looked over his color options. Looking at you once more, he took the tip of the makeup brush between his lips, his tongue wetting it as he twisted it slightly to get a pointed tip of the bristles. You couldn’t help but watch him do that with both a mild fascination and some level of arousal. Why is he using his mouth on the makeup brush when he could be using it on you?

He dragged the tip over a dark orange color, a shade you would see among the trees during autumn. Carefully, he raised the brush to your face, lightly moving the colorful tip from the corner of your mouth and to your cheeks, tracing a clockwise swirl on your skin. He repeated the action on your other cheek, though with a counter clockwise design. He bit his lip and tilted his head, eyes narrowing as he studied his work so far. Both sides looked even, which was important. He couldn’t have you running around with mismatched makeup after all. He had his reputation to think about. How would it look if someone on Buggy’s crew had poorly done makeup? 

He didn’t even want to think about it.

Nodding in approval to himself, he picked out a sparkly green shade next. You tried not to make a face, unsure where he was going to use that color. Your lips? Hopefully not because you had a feeling this little bonding moment you were having was going to end up with you on your knees in front of him and you really didn’t want to see him with a green dick at all. Around your eyes could work, the light would catch the glitter and make your eyes pop. Would he put it on your nose? He was sensitive about his own, and you doubted he would do anything to draw attention to your nose when he never wanted that kind of attention.

Buggy grabbed a different makeup brush, the tip going into his mouth once more before dragging it over the green color on the tray. Without a word he began dabbing it across your forehead, right above your eyebrows. You sat still for this, pleased that he was being gentle and that it wasn’t a stabbing motion you were half expecting from him. His brow furrowed and he shook his head, mumbling something before licking his thumb and wiping it over your forehead, trying to remove the green grease paint from your skin.

“No, no. I don’t like that look.” He said out loud with a sigh. “The orange swirls, yes, so maybe… leave the forehead alone. Accent the eyes and cheeks.” He crossed his arms, a hand lifting to rest on his chin thoughtfully as he studied your face with narrowed eyes. It was a little uncomfortable to be under such scrutiny, but he was the one doing all of this. You were just the canvas for his creativity at that point.

He reached out and tilted your chin up, eyes still narrowed as he concentrated. Instead, he took the first makeup brush and sucked on the tip once more, wincing at the bitter taste of the grease paint. You tried not to roll your eyes before reaching out to place your hand on his hip, tired of not touching him as he stood so close to you. He reached down to touch your hand, letting his fingers dance up your bare arm lightly before pulling away to resume his artistic creations on you. 

“Why don’t you have a glass of water or something for the brushes?” You asked as he ran the brush through the green grease paint once more. 

“Because I didn’t think that far ahead, babe.” Was his response as he handed the tray to you to hold. You took it as he took your head in his hands, tilting it back slowly as he stepped in between your legs. Okay, you saw no reason to complain now. You held the grease paint tray in one hand while the other hand stayed on his hip. He was close enough you could feel his breath on your face, but just out of reach you wouldn’t be able to lean up to kiss him without completely disrupting what he was doing, and while you loved teasing him and egging him on, you also knew when to back off. He was focused on your makeup and if you messed it up you may regret it because Buggy could be petty. He would hold off sex for as long as he was able to (only a day or so most likely) but you didn’t want to risk it.

From the corner of your eye, he tapped the brush lightly, leaving a trail of green dots along your skin and moving up to your temple. He seemed satisfied with the right side, so he repeated the pattern on your left side. Nodding and mumbling, “Yea, that’s exactly it” he dipped the brush into the green paint once more. He tilted your head again, leaning in closer as he started to draw a teardrop shape under your eye. It tickled just a bit and to your credit you didn’t budge, but when he tried to do the next eye you had to pull back just for a moment. 

“Babe.” He sighed as you reached up to carefully rub your skin. “C’mon, let’s get this finished.”

“It tickles!” You whined at him. “And not in a good way.”

“I’m almost finished.” 

You pouted at him again and he rolled his eyes. The novelty was wearing off, and you didn’t know if you wanted to keep indulging this much longer. He pulled back and sighed loudly, dropping his arms to the side as he looked down at you.

“Let me finish what I’ve started and we’ll do something you want after.” He offered. “I’m almost done, so let me finish.”

“Whatever I want?” No longer pouting, you now grinned up at him, a twinkle in your eye that told him you already had an idea of what you wanted to do, and he knew that once he was done with your makeup, it was going to end up smeared across the bedsheets and pillows. 

“Yes, whatever you want.” He retorted as he tilted your head back once more. “Now stop moving or else.”

“Mhm, that’s what you said last night.” You said cheekily. He glared down at you before touching the brush to your skin again. He took his time, wanting to ensure the teardrop matched its mate. He set the brush down and studied your face, his hand on your chin as he turned your head from side to side, making sure it was perfect.

“Getting there.” He muttered as he reached for the red lipstick now. Oh, no, was he going to use it on you? You tried to pull back but he gave your chin a squeeze. “No, you’re almost done. Another few minutes.”

You let out a whine before sinking back into the chair. He touched the pointed tip of the red pigment to the curve of your upper lip, tracing the shape carefully before ending at the corner of your mouth. He hummed in appreciation as he did the other side, admiring how the red popped with the orange on your cheeks and the green around your eyes. He had wanted your look to complement his, not be a copy, so when he applied the lipstick to your bottom lip, it took every ounce of strength not to smear the lipstick around your face like how he wore his. 

Except you were growing impatient. The second he pulled the lipstick away you reached for him and pulled him down, your lips on his as you kissed him. He managed to pull back, sighing in mild frustration as he brushed his thumb over your lower lip.

“You’re going to ruin all my hard work, babe.” He said with a pout. “I like what I started.”

“Okay, but how about we take a break and start something else?” You suggested as you reached for the front of his pants, grinning up at him. The lipstick was smeared around your mouth, no doubt around his as well, but the orange swirls and green dots were starting to work for you. Maybe lipstick wasn’t the look for you, but he had time to think of alternatives.

“Mhm, I suppose, but we aren’t done yet.” He chuckled softly. “Gives me some time to think of other ideas for you.” He reached down, his hand cupping your face as his thumb went back to your lips. You parted your lips just enough for him to push it into your mouth, earning a sigh from your captain as he closed his eyes. “I’m going to give myself plenty of time to think.”

[mikrokcsmos]

Kith

synopsis; in which Jin can’t resist the adorable toddler antics of his daughter, not even when he’s on a vlive.

pairing; dad!seokjin x mom!reader

genre; fluff, humor, drabble, idol au, domestic au, dad au, vlive au, married au

warnings; just Jin being the sweetest dad ever 🥹

rating; PG-13

w/c; 707

a/n; but like, can y’all picture it as much as I have? this is something he would most definitely do for his little one and I’m not SOBBING you are!!!! ps - kith is how I used to say ‘kiss’ when I was young as well as say ‘lippy’ when I wanted to wear lipstick/chapstick sooooo that’ll be incorporated in this fic. 😙

Jin could hear the shuffle of tiny feet and loud giggles before his office door swung open, only to slam back against the wall. He made an involuntary wince, nervous chuckle spilling out.

In an instant the vlive was flooded with the same topic of comments, more than well aware who the culprit was behind the noise from previous streams.

OMG WHERE IS SHE????

ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE SHE’S BEEN ON HERE!!!

You tried, you really tried.

There was only so much you could do to entertain your 3 year old daughter while her father did his vlive in the other room. From Barbie’s, to cars, to board games, to books, to arts and crafts, to dance parties, to glitter, to glam —

Which unfortunately for Jin, was the last thing you both did before your daughter decided that enough was enough and your makeover was complete so now she was determined to do daddy’s as well.

By the time your exhausted body was able to make it to his office, she had already made herself comfortable on his lap. She was waving at the camera and smiling wide, lipstick stained teeth being shown to who knows how many people tonight. Jin’s eyes flicker up to meet your apologetic ones behind the camera, mouth opening to assure you that it was okay, when your daughter decided she had other plans.

“Daddy, lippy!” She demanded, thrusting her small hands your way. You raise a brow at her, crossing your arms over your chest.

Your voice is calm, but stern.

“What do we say, love?”

She pouts cutely, bottom lip jutting out as she sinks into her father’s embrace at your ‘mom’ voice.

“Pwease, can I have lippy?”

“Well, baby, that depends on daddy and if he wants to wear lippy.”

All it takes is one puppy dog eyed look from his daughter and he’s sighing in defeat, nodding his head at you and putting his hand out towards you to grab the lipstick container from you.

You mouth the words ‘sorry, honey’ as you give it to him. He gives you a playful glare, but smiles to let you know not to take him seriously. Sitting off to the side, still behind the camera, you sit down on the large bean bag your husband insisted he needed in his home office.

You watch the chaos unfold with a content smile. Your daughter turns around in his lap, and once he hands her the uncapped lipstick, all caution gets thrown to the wind. Once she deems him to be done, she looks over at you with one last demand from her tiny, devious little mind.

She brings her hands out wide, to then quickly smash them together with a loud clap.

“Now, kith!”

You and Jin look at each other, having a silent conversation. In the end, he just shrugs his shoulders and leaves the decision up to you. You close your eyes, letting out a quiet exhale, before you heave yourself back up to stand, walking over to them the short distance and into the view of the camera for the first time.

The comments begin to explode over what they see, but not from the sweet kiss you have with your husband, no.

It’s because of your very obvious, pregnant belly that sticks out like a sore thumb. Something you both have kept secret for 7 months now.

When you pull away, he plants a kiss on your white oversized t-shirt wearing belly, leaving a perfect lipstick stain of his lips. You lean your body sideways against him, and his head lays on your belly. Your daughter gives a small kiss of her own and when you stare at the monitor of your perfect little soon to be family of four, your heart bursts with both warmth and love.

Your daughter lets out a big yawn, and Jin just laughs, patting her head.

“Alright, looks like it’s time to sign off. Thank you everyone for joining and all of the congratulations and well wishes for the new baby. Till next time, bye!”

As if all of you planned it prematurely, you all pucker your lips at the camera while you wave, and give the heart sign.

[fandomgirlz01]

Holding Onto You Pt.1

Timothée Chalamet x Reader

Imagine on my fandom Instagram?: No

Prompt or Request or Requested Prompt?: No

Style of Writing: Mini Series 

Rating: PG-13 ~ For fluff and cuteness, but more adult commentary or even some triggering content. 

Edited: Yes

Word count: 4,885 

Post Date & Time: November 27th 2024 at 9:34PM

Ko-fi

Masterlist

Warnings Here

Listen to the story be read out loud here {coming soon}.  

Summary:  When the Reader goes through something very hard she tells Pauline about it, but begs her not to tell Timothée. However Timothée learns about it and is determined to go and be there for his best friend. 

PSA from Faith: I {Faith} have not learned any French so if it any of the French is off please let me know. I {Faith} have however learned a little bit (by a little bit I mean a very little bit…) of Italian and am still learning and am not well versed in it yet, but I hope I can be one day. For now just please let us know if any of it is off and we will fix it as soon as we can. For now I’ve {Faith} used what very little I do know as well as a LOT of google translate as well as a LOT of research too.

Why must love suck so much? You think as you walk down the aisles, only seemingly able to find romance books while playing with the small T necklace around your neck. You don’t want a romance book right now, not after just being cheated on. All you really want is your best friend, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him what happened. He’s been so focused on his newest movies, having to film for Wonka and Dune 2 back to back and you know for a fact that if you’d told him he would jump on the first flight home just to be with you. 

You just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him and make him leave what he’s been so focused on and so passionate about lately. So you’d told his sister Pauline, who has always been just as close to you as Timothée has been. You sigh at the memories of the FaceTime call from the previous last few nights. 

You sit on the couch after just having a big blow out fight with your now ex boyfriend, Malcom. You’d come home for the night all happy and giddy to have a nice dinner with your boyfriend, but that’s not what happened. You walked into the strangely, eerily quiet apartment and thought about it for a moment before shaking your head. You dismissed the weird atmosphere and walked up to your room where you’d found your boyfriend on top of another woman. You then yelled and screamed back and forth for a good two hours before you’d kicked him out. So now you sit on your couch with a box of tissues and you're on a FaceTime call with your best -girl- friend Pauline. 

“You should tell Timmy. He’d wanna be there for you and you know it,” she tells you and you just sniffle before blowing your nose again. 

“No. He’s so focused right now. I don’t wanna ruin it for him. His career is just getting to the point he wants it to. I’m not gonna be the one that pulls him away from that,” you reply and she just sighs, clicking her tongue at you while shaking her head. 

“Well, I still think he’d wanna know…” she gives you the side eye, trying to change your mind. 

“He won’t know, not till he’s done filming,” you stubbornly tell her, making her sigh again. 

“But-” she started to go on and you shook your head. 

“I’m not telling him and you have to promise you won’t either,” you cut her off before sternly telling her not to utter a word. 

“Fine. I won’t tell him, but just take care of yourself, okay?” she asks and you don’t hesitate to agree, giving a false promise. 

“Do you pinky promise…” you ask, giving her a side eye and she groans. 

“Not this again…” She rolls her eyes. 

“It’s the most solemn of vows. Now pinky promise,” you push and she sighs, shaking her head. 

“Fine. I pinky promise,” she relents as she lifts her pinky to the camera before kissing her thumb. 

“There, happy now?” she asks and you shrug halfheartedly. 

“Yeah. I guess I am,” you tell her and she shakes her head. 

You snap out of the memory and sigh. It’s safe to say you didn’t do as you’d promised her, you definitely aren’t doing well. You haven’t fully eaten anything except a little bit of snacking since it happened, but you’ve done your absolute best to make yourself seem as normal as possible so people wouldn’t catch on that something was wrong. That means going to Barnes and Noble like you had planned about a week before everything fell apart. So here you are, trying to seem normal to all of the people around you as you silently curse at romance books you would have once picked up with a giddy smile while you fall apart on the inside. 

You scan a few more before reaching out for a book that actually catches your eye. You carefully slip it off the shelf, looking over the front cover before flipping it to read the synopsis on the back. You read over it only to roll your eyes before putting it back with an annoyed scowl when you realize it’s another romance book. After a few minutes you pick out another book with an interesting spine and turn it to look at the cover. 

You roll your eyes again and let out an annoyed, almost angry huff. It’s only another love story with a couple kissing passionately under the sunset on the front cover. You shove it back into place where it once resided. Romance and love is all just bullshit, it doesn’t really exist, you think to yourself before shaking your head. You were here to forget about all that stuff, seeing as it was the absolute last thing you wanted to think about. You walk down another aisle with the new intention of leaving the store and heading home to read the few books you did find interesting in hopes of it getting your mind off of your discovery from a few days ago. 

You can’t help but continue to think about it though. You thought you’d known him well, but you were proven wrong when you found him in bed with the other woman. How naïve could I have really been? All the signs were there, how did I not see them? You think to yourself with a permanent frown on your face as you continue walking towards the stairs to the bottom floor of the store, but soon one last row jumps out at you and you make a last second decision to stop and look down the shelf.

You set down the books you hold on the edge of the shelf to look for a moment before you see someone out of the corner of your eye on the opposite side of the shelf, but you pay them no mind as you continue looking through the books. You assume they’re just looking at the books on the other side of the shelf, but after you finish looking at one of the books it’s clear their eyes are on you and not the other books on the other side. Oh, what the hell does this person want?! You think to yourself when after a moment they still don’t move and your eyebrows pull together in frustration. 

“Can I help-” you start in a ticked off tone as you move the books out of the way to look at the person, but all the words on your tongue die off when you actually see who it is. 

Timothée, your lifelong best friend (and love of your life, but that’s for a little later) stands there with a small, shy yet hesitant smile. You gape at him though the books that have been pushed aside for a moment, trying to get words to form, but your brain doesn’t want to seem to work. 

“Hi…” he breathes out softly as he smiles sheepishly at you, but all you can see is happiness in his eyes at just seeing you. 

He comes around the bookshelf, making you turn to him and stare displeased at him. The look in his eyes changes, holding a look of pain and guilt as you refuse to let up on your displeased look. He shouldn’t be here and he knows that you know he knows what had happened as you cross your arms. You stand there with an eyebrow raised and arms still crossed, waiting on him to give you anything as to why he’s here. 

Finally after a moment of silence, you throw your hands up with a sigh and turn away from him. You want to smile, throw yourself into his arms and hug the life out of him, telling him how happy you are to see him, but you couldn't because he isn’t supposed to be here. He’s supposed to be filming for Dune 2. Most importantly, he wasn’t supposed to know about you being cheated on, he wasn’t supposed to see you as this person you were right now. 

“What are you doing here?” You finally hiss out at him, staring him down with wide eyes that make him a little nervous, but he also notices that even when mad you slightly move closer to him, almost as if you were a compass needle and he your cardinal direction. 

He shrugs as he keeps his hands in his pocket so you won’t see how balled up he keeps them when he sees just how broken you are. He tries to keep himself from right out telling you right here right now how he feels and he sure as hell fights himself on wanting to go hunt the jerk down. No, he won’t do that. He keeps reminding himself he needs to be there for you more than anything else right now, not professing his undying love for you or rather beating your now ex, who had made the biggest mistake he could: he hurt you. 

“I heard about what that dick did. I couldn’t just not come check up on you, Il mio angelo {my angel},” he informs you with a soft look as he tries to read your emotions. He knows how good you’ve gotten at hiding them, but has always been able to read you like an open book; his favorite book. 

He watches as your jaw ticks ever so slightly and anger rolls over you as you clench your fist. He watches as the anger flows, but he can tell you’re not really angry at him, you’re just misplacing your anger. 

“I’m going to kill your sister,” you growl as you cross your arms once more, shaking your head in disappointment that your best (girl) friend would go behind your back and tell him when you specifically made her promise not to. 

“Now, don’t do that. I forced her to tell me,” Timothée admits with a small shrug of his shoulders as he kicks lightly at the ground. 

“It’s just… When we were on the phone the other night…” he trails off as he feels himself get choked up at his own memory and you give him expectant eyes, telling him to go on. 

“You weren’t yourself, okay?!” he grumbles with a frown, but he has to take a breath to steady his own rising emotions as he pulls his hands from his pockets to press his palms into his eyes for a moment. 

“I got worried and asked her if she knew if anything was up. To her credit she said no for a good while, but I know when my sister is lying to me and I know when something is up with you…” he continues to explain as he finally pulls his hands away from his face to look at you once more and his stare feels like he’s looking into your soul. 

“So I knew if you wouldn’t tell me, you’d tell her. So I pushed and pushed,” he explains some more with another small shrug and you don’t even seem to understand how you affect him as he stands there, almost pleading with you to understand. 

“Finally she saw just how worried I was and broke. After she told me, I was on my first flight back,” he finishes explaining and watches you contemplate it for a moment. 

“It doesn’t matter. It’s not important. I’m not that important. You should have stayed and focused on the movie,” You try to sound as assuring as you can so he’ll stop worrying, you hate worrying anyone, but especially him. 

It never felt good to have him worried, you always would have a terrible gut wrenching feeling when he was worried about you. In your mind he always deserved and deserves to be the happiest he can be, but he can’t exactly be happy if you’re worrying him all the time. He holds back a groan as he reaches up and frustratedly rubs at his eyes again. He pulls his hands back down as he lets out a huff and frowns at you, hating that you even remotely feel that way. Have I not always made it known that she’s my number one priority? He wonders sadly to himself as he tries to figure out why you feel like you can’t tell him everything anymore. 

“It is a big deal and you definitely matter, dolce ragazza {Sweet girl}. Please don’t say that. You’ll always, always matter to me,” he protests as he reaches up, grabbing you by the elbows and tries to get you to look at him. 

“But… but you have a lot going on with work. You need to focus on the movie…” you mutter out as you try to keep up with the façade that you’ve built up, but it slowly starts to crumble along with your resolve and he softly shushes you while shaking his head. 

“We’re not talking about me. It’s you, I'm worried about la mia goccia di sole {My sundrop}. All of that can wait. You come first,” Timothée parrots his words from earlier. 

“I came because I wanted to make sure you were okay. Pauline would have too, but she has a lot more going on then I do,” he explains as he rubs your arms softly as he continues to try to look in your eyes. 

You finally sigh as all the emotions start to show on your face and he moves his hands down your arm until he’s holding yours. He slips his fingers through yours until the palm of his hand is flat against your very own palm. Finally you look up at him and he smiles a sad yet soft smile at you as he searches your eyes for the answer you still won’t give him. 

“There you are, ma chérie {My Love},” he whispers sweetly to you and the nickname is the one that finally breaks you. 

Your lower lip begins to tremble and you curse yourself for letting him break you. You trap it between your teeth in hopes he didn’t see it, but he definitely did. With a shaky inhale, you nod at him as he asks you if you’re okay with his eyes, but he gives you a knowing look as you slowly spiral. You always cave for him, always crumbling with just one stern look from him. It’s always been hard to lie to him, no matter how hard you try you just never can.

“I’m not okay…” you mutter out as you finally admit it out loud and tears start to fill your eyes. 

“And I’m breaking down in a Barnes and Noble, I’m such a wimp,” your voice cracks as you put yourself down and Timothée is quickly shaking his head with a frown as he shushes you. 

“You've just been cheated on. You’re not a wimp for crying about that. Come with me…” he tells you as he reaches up and pulls you into a hug before he’s turning and walking with you tucked under his arm. 

He quickly walks you out of the store and looks around. It only takes him a moment before he spots your car and guides you over to it. You unlock and he opens the back door, dramatically bowing and you giggle which makes him smile proudly at the fact he’s made you giggle through your tears. You step in, dropping your bag to the floor below you before making yourself comfortable and he soon follows. 

Soon there’s a serenity that falls over the car as the two of you cuddle in close. You sit comfortably pressed up against his side, his arm slung around you as your head rests on his shoulder and his head rests softly against your own. His hand grabs yours and you hold his, resting both on your shoulder as you keep a light death grip on his. His thumb draws circles on your hand, only giving you more serenity the more you relax against him. It almost feels like no time has passed the longer you two sit there, saying everything and nothing all at once. 

He’s always been so good at getting you calm and relaxed, you missed him and this so, so much. Your anger slowly flows away as you sit cuddled up to your best friend and you start to feel a little upset with how you’d treated him inside. You want to open your mouth and tell him how sorry you are for being angry and how much you’ve missed him, how much you’ve missed this, but you can’t bring yourself to do so, making your eyes well up more and more with tears you refuse to shed. 

“Why didn’t you tell me, mon fleur {my flower}? I could have been here sooner,” Timothée whispers, being the first to speak up and you stay quiet, making him frown. 

“I’ll admit it, miele {honey}, it did hurt when I found out that you told Paulie first and broke down to her when the two of us have always been closer out of the three of us. I promise I'm not jealous, I just want to know why you didn't want me to know. Would me knowing about it have been so bad?” he continues and you can hear the shakiness to his tone as he asks you about it, making the tears you’ve been holding back finally fall like a river before you could stop them. 

You hiccup as the tears slowly start to turn into sobs, making you turn and bury your face into his neck. He lets out a soft “oh tesoro {sweetheart},” his lips pressing a firm kiss to your forehead as he starts to whisper comforting words. His other hand comes up and cradles your head, his fingers carding though your hair as he massages your head softly. The thought of you not knowing what to do without him makes you cry even harder and again he’s shushing you softly. 

“Shh, dolce ragazza {sweet girl}. It’s okay. I’m right here,” he softly promises you as he continues to massage your scalp. 

You really don’t know what you’d do without him, with his hands and his wonderful touch. Not to mention the soft voice he always without fail used around you. To you he was the most beautiful man on the planet. You always wonder what you did to deserve him, because honestly you feel like you don’t sometimes. To you he’s a literal angel and what are you? You’re just a fool who fell for love only to be crushed by it. 

“Please don’t cry, sweetheart. I hate it when you cry. Means I haven’t been taking good care of you,” he mutters out as his own emotions take over. 

“Plus. He’s not worth it,” he adds on as he continues to hold back his own tears back. 

You sniffle as you come to the realization that you’ve just been hurting him too. You lift your head with a frown, looking into his mossy green eyes that you’ve always loved, seeing that you’re right, you’ve been causing him pain and you hate that you have. Why couldn’t I have just been with him? It’d be so much easier with him. You wonder to yourself as you reach up and wipe at your own red and puffy eyes before shaking your head in denial. 

“You’ve always taken care of me. Timmy. This isn’t on you. I’m so sorry for being angry at you for showing up. I was just angry that this happened. I really thought he was a good guy,” you immediately apologize.

“And for the record, I hate seeing you cry too. It’s rather sad to see your baby face contort when you do,” you joke, calling back to his SNL skit with a small smirk when he gasps, looking shocked at you. 

He looks at you shocked for a moment before his lips stretch into a smile and soon you're smirking proudly as he laughs a good long laugh at your joke. Soon you start to laugh too and for a moment, you completely forget why you’re even sad. After the moment ends, though, your face falls again and so does his. 

“I really am sorry I didn’t tell you, but I knew that if you’d known about it you'd be worried and concerned for me. I knew you wouldn’t sleep at all while filming Dune until you knew for sure I’d be okay…” you explain as you look away from him again, not able to look him in the eyes as you admit it all. 

“I also knew you’d get aggressive once you did know. You would have gone and tried to do something reckless for me and I didn’t want you doing that,” you admit as you think back on the last time you were in a bad relationship. 

“So I told Paulie before I told you and I begged her not to say anything so you could focus. I can handle anything, but I didn’t want you to look at me differently. Paulie looked at me with sisterly sadness, and that I can handle, but when you look at me in any different way…” you try to explain and trail off, not fully able to explain where your head's at.

“Anyway, that’s why I asked her not to tell you. You needed to focus on the movie and I didn’t want to be seen as this broken sad girl to you again. I’m sorry I tried to hide it from you and I’m sorry I was more angry about you being here then happy about it,” you finish explaining and giving your apology, but it only makes you start crying again. 

“Oh, mon amour…” he whispers out the nickname, giving you butterflies as he shakes his head and his hand reaches up and he gently grabs your chin, pulling you to look at him. 

“Don’t apologize. I get it now and you're right. Paulie will always give you more of a sisterly look. You definitely can handle anything, I'll give you that, but we all need extra help sometimes, there’s nothing wrong with that,” he tells you as he squeezes your hand while looking into your eyes. 

You feel a magnetic pull to kiss his lips, but you resist and force yourself to look away again. After a moment, though, you look back at him with a big grin taking over your face and a look of fondness rolling off of you. 

“Thank you, Timmy. I needed that. You know me. Sometimes I just forget to accept any help. I actually really missed you,” you tell him, pulling him into a hug and he lets out an oof sound before chuckling as he wraps his arms around you. 

“I missed you too. More than you know, Il mio piccolo girasole {my little sunflower}. With my baby face contorted up every night without you. Ask Zay, it’s true,” he jokes with you and you can’t help but blush as he holds you a little closer in the hug. 

You take a deep breath in and subtly take in a whiff of his cologne, smelling only what you could describe as your best friend and it soothes you. He only soothes you more as he rubs your arm up and down with the tips of his fingers. Damn him for knowing exactly how to calm me. You think to yourself as you fall farther into a serenity that only he brings you. 

“Have you by any chance eaten at all since it happened, angelo {Angel}?” he suddenly asks and you pause for a moment. 

“A snack here or there…” you answer with a small shrug as if it’s nothing and he sighs. 

“Coccinella {Ladybug}, you need to eat,” he chides you and you shake your head. 

“I’m fine. I swear,” you whine out like a petulant child and he gives you a scornful look. 

“Give me your keys,” he lightly commands, holding his hand out and you give him a defiant look with crossed arms. 

“Timmy. I’m not a kid…” you mutter out and he shakes his head. 

“Says the girl acting like a kid. Now give me the keys, y/n,” he demands and you hold your defiance for a moment as he gives you a persistent scornful look. 

Eventually you break and sigh before leaning forward to dig around in your bag. Once your hand finds them you pull them out and plop them into his hand. He smiles proudly at you and squeezes your shoulder as you lean back into his side. 

“Must we-” you start to ask in an annoyed tone, but your own stomach cuts you off with a growl and Timothée chuckles. 

“By that sound your stomach just made… yes, tesoro mio {my darling}, we must,” he jokes before groaning when you smack him in the stomach. 

“Don’t patronize me,” you tell him with a pout that makes him smile. 

“Ahh, come on. You're my favorite person to patronize, though,” he playfully whines out as he grabs your chin, moving your face back and forth. 

“Timmy…” you groan, carrying out the m sound of his name as you move your face away from his hand before hiding in his shoulder so he won’t see you blush as madly as you do. 

“Okay. Okay. Let’s go get that stomach of yours some food,” he lets up with a chuckle before laying a sweet kiss to your forehead. 

“Okay. What does that stomach of yours want?” Timothée asks once you both are settled into the front seat of your car. 

“I really don’t know… anything is fine,” you halfheartedly say with a shrug, refusing to look at him again. 

“Miele (honey), you know I can read you like an open book,” he softly but firmly reminds you as he looks over at you with a raised eyebrow. 

“Now you know I know you don’t mean that. There’s gotta be something you want after almost a week of not eating,” he continues, giving you a stern look that he hopes will show that he’s not taking no for an answer and soon he’s smiling ever so slightly as he watches you squirm in your seat for a moment. 

“Fine… I could really go for a good burger from In-N-Out…” you finally relent and he grins, proud that he broke though your stubbornness.

“See, was that so hard? Now let’s go get you that burger,” he declares as he starts your car up before backing it out of the parking space. 

He drives and the two of you talk the whole way to the restaurant until he finally pulls up to the man standing at the end of the drive through. He recites your order so easily and you smile softly at him as you nod when he turns to you for confirmation that it’s right. After the food is ordered it feels like it takes absolutely no time for you to receive said food and then he’s driving to your apartment. Again, the ride seems like no time passes and soon you are unlocking your front door for both of you to step into your humble abode. You toe off your shoes next to the door, as does Timothée. 

Together you walk to the kitchen and you pull out two plates, handing one to him. Both of you plate up your food, before walking over to the couch. 

“What do you wanna watch?” You ask Timothée and he shrugs. 

“I’m good with whatever,” he tells you and you sigh dramatically. 

“That doesn’t help, because I don’t know what to watch either!” You groan out and he chuckles, shaking his head. 

“How about we don’t watch anything and just enjoy each other’s company, mia cara {my dear}?” he playfully questions and you sigh. 

“I guess we can do that,” you agree with a playful roll of your eyes. 

You guys then proceed to eat and talk, just catching up after not seeing each other in person for a good few months. After you’ve finished eating you set your plate aside and pull your legs up onto the couch as you turn to look at him. He too sets his plate aside and turns to look at you. The two of you talk for hours and hours with you changing positions again. You lay your head in his lap and he smiles as the two of you continue to talk, but slowly you get more and more tired. He seems to notice as he starts to massage your head, carding his fingers through your hair. Soon you fall asleep and he’s gently carrying you to your bed and kissing your forehead goodnight. 

“Goodnight, amore mio {my love},” he whispers out to you softly before going to stand, but he lets out a quiet yelp when you pull him back down, breathing out a soft “stay,” and he blinks at you for a moment before silently agreeing. He pulls you close and you cuddle into him with a sleepy sigh. He can’t help but smile softly, soon falling asleep by your side.

To Be Continued…

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[petraswyvern]

Moonflower: Volume One out today!

I am thrilled to share that Volume 1 of Moonflower releases today! This is a 65-page, 14k anthology of three new hubernie works. 100% of the proceeds will go towards the charity Care For Gaza. I am asking a minimum of 2 dollars, but if you feel so inclined, feel free to spend more--it's 100% for charity!

Here is a link!

Not sure whether it's right for you? Here's some more info: Moonflower is solely Hubert/Bernadetta, with no OT3s or side ships. It is rated T, for brief canon typical violence, brief mentions of canon child abuse, and occasional sexual themes. I would rate this PG-13, if it were a movie.