#so i kinda tomed it down. took down my posters

[biaswreckme]

looking for something right | jjk/knj

Summary: When Jungkook needs to find a new apartment with a roommate to share expenses, he thinks that the universe must be either laughing at him or conspiring in his favor. Because when he finally finds an ad that fits his budget, his roommate is the tall and handsome man from the coffee shop.

Pairing: Namjoon/Jungkook

Member: Namjoon, Jungkook, Jimin, Yoongi

Length: 3568 words

Genre: smut, fluff

Type of AU: roommates au, university au, coffee shop au (kinda) (yes i used all my favorite tropes and aus in one fic)

Rating: 18+

Triggers/Warnings: heavy pining, slightly dom!Namjoon, slightly sub!JK, dry humping, handjob, dirty talking

Project: @thebtswritersclub​ April project with the theme Bloom 🌸

A/N: A huge thanks to my lobely beta-readers @taegularities​​ AND @voiceswithoutlips for help in revising and editing ♥ and also @voiceswithoutlips for the conversation that inspired the smutty scene :3

cross-posted on AO3 too!

Jungkook had seen him around campus before, more specifically in his favorite small coffee shop just outside the university that was much cheaper and actually catered to students’ financial range when it came to prices. He always had a book with him - usually a tome so big Jungkook thought he could do some real damage to someone with it -, reading and taking notes in the margins, which Jungkook thought was an atrocity, but the other boy didn’t seem bothered or apologetic.

He must be an early riser, because he was always there before he arrived, a steaming cup of hot coffee on the table and a bottle of water next to a small open pencil case and sticky notes. He looked too well-put together to be an undergrad, so he assumed he was a grad student. Philosophy maybe? Or something that demanded a constant consumption of large books. And maybe - just maybe - Jungkook shouldn’t have been spending so much on coffee when he could be brewing it at his apartment, but his apartment didn’t have the tall boy - man? - to discreetly look at while having his morning drink.

What his apartment did have was Jimin, his close friend and dance major that moved from Busan at the same time as him. They’d been sharing a place for some time now, but things were about to change. Jungkook knew this had been coming, but the day Jimin came home announcing that he’d been accepted for a scholarship abroad and that he would need to move soon came as a shock. He was extremely happy for him, but they would need to rush the process of moving out and Jungkook finding a new place or roommate.

They opted to let the apartment go, and so Jungkook began his search for a new place to share. He’d looked at listings, visited some places that were out of his budget, and then he found it. It was a small poster at the coffee shop’s cork board from a guy named Namjoon; the place was a block away and it fit perfectly into his budget and what he wanted for the location. It seemed too perfect; there had to be a catch, right? He texted the number - who calls anyone these days anyways? - and arranged to meet him at the coffee shop the next day before classes.

The catch. Oh, there was a catch.

He entered the place as usual, and the only person there was the tall man with a book on the table, steaming drink in his hand. He looked up at Jungkook who froze for a second, nodding his head and going to the counter quickly, barely mumbling his order to the barista trying to not freak out at the eye contact. So he avoided it for the next few minutes, until he heard his name being called out. What? How did he know his name?

“Jungkook?” the man repeated.

“Yes?” he took a deep breath and turned around at the sound of the deep voice.

“I’m Namjoon,” he introduced himself, standing up and motioning for Jungkook to join him at the table. No, no, no. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be him. The universe had to be joking. “Nice to meet you.” He reached out to shake Jungkook’s hand.

He was touching him. And he smelled so good. And his voice was so deep. Jungkook felt like a schoolgirl with her first crush, sighing at the very sight of Namjoon, whose name he now knew. He nodded in response and looked at the counter, trying to take a break from that smile, pretending he was checking if his order was ready. It was not.

“So, you’re interested in the apartment, right?”

“Ah, yeah… my friend and roommate right now, Jimin, you might have seen him around campus? He’s an amazing contemporary dancer, so he got this incredible and super rare scholarship to go study at this academy... I forgot the name,” he shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and stop his rambling - to no avail, “anyway he’s moving too soon and I need to find a new place but everything’s so expensive. Yours fits the budget and is so close to uni and I couldn’t help but check you out, I mean, check it out…” He closed his eyes in embarrassment at the slip up, hearing Namjoon’s soft chuckle.

“Alright. What are you studying? Undergrad or grad school?”

“Media. Photography, film making, this stuff. I’m into it. I mean. Excuse me,” he was saved by the barista calling him, and as soon as he got back to the table, he took a sip, burning his tongue - but at least it stopped him from babbling for a second. “Undergrad still,” he complemented.

“Cool. I’m in grad school for social studies, so I’m a TA, but I also work with music production,” Namjoon began, but upon Jungkook’s raised eyebrows and brown eyes rounding up, he continued. “I wanted to get a better grasp on understanding society, so I can write better lyrics and try to integrate that into the music writing itself, you know?”

Jungkook nodded, fascinated. So he was cute and smart. And captivating. The interview didn’t really seem like one; it was so easy to fall into conversation with Namjoon that he did not notice time passing, and soon enough they were cut short, remembering they still had classes to attend.

“Alright, Jungkook. You don’t seem like a serial killer, so how about you visit the apartment to see if you like it?”

Jungkook choked on the last sip of his drink, and he really wanted to answer that he did not need to see the apartment to know he liked him, but he managed to catch himself before letting it out. He knew what Namjoon was seeing right now: his eyes wide open in shock, maybe even a light blush on his cheeks? His ears certainly felt hot. Dear lord, he needed to get a grip on himself.

“I’m not a serial killer, I promise. I’m a law abiding citizen. When are you free? I have classes the whole day today, but I’m free around lunchtime.” Jungkook wanted to dig a hole and hide right in there. Did he sound too eager?

“The sooner the better, but wait,” Namjoon stopped midway while getting up, looking very serious all of a sudden, “I forgot a very important question that might change my mind.”

Jungkook inhaled deeply, dreading the question that was about to come. Did he seem too forward and let the other man know he was into him? Would that be a deal breaker?

“Can you cook?”

“Ah… yes?” Jungkook was caught by surprise, confusion stamped on his face again. “Yes, I can. The basics at least.”

“Oh great! I can’t cook to save my life and I can’t really afford to live on take out anymore, so… we can work something out with that for sure!” He laughed, those dimples adorning his cheeks appearing again.

Soon Jungkook would learn that not only could Namjoon not cook, but he was actually a disaster and walking hazard in the kitchen. The man didn’t even know to properly hold a cutting knife to chop some vegetables or kimchi for a simple plate of fried rice. They attempted cooking together one time and that was enough for Jungkook. That was his kitchen from now on, Namjoon would be responsible for other chores but he himself would do all the cooking in the kitchen. Namjoon was even forbidden from boiling water on an electric kettle; that was the level of disaster-waiting-to-happen that he was.

The apartment was cozy and filled with books and musical equipment, and soon enough Jungkook’s filming materials were sharing the same space. It warmed his heart to come home in the evenings after class and see how his camera bag would be sitting beside Namjoon’s headphones, or how his black chunky sneakers rested beside the other man’s boots at the entrance. Whenever he put on or took off his shoes - which was almost every single day of the week, mind you - he would get a fuzzy feeling in his stomach. He would tilt his head quickly to try and shake the thoughts away, not letting himself hope too much. He had no idea or indication if Namjoon even liked men, and he had no idea why he was even wishing for something more.

He was not exactly sure if he could pinpoint the precise moment in time when his adoration had turned into real infatuation with Namjoon. Maybe it was the fact that the older one was a disaster in the kitchen and always thanked Jungkook, each and every single meal the younger one cooked. Maybe it was the look he sported whenever he was engrossed in a book, glasses almost falling off his nose before a finger would softly push it back up (and Jungkook had found out that he only used his glasses comfortably at home, preferring contacts whenever he was out).

Maybe it was the way he always listened to Jungkook’s ramblings, no matter the topic of interest, from deep art films he had to watch (and Namjoon would actually sit down and watch with him) to the new game he’d been playing. Maybe it was the way he would always wish him a good morning and a good night with that dimpled smile. Maybe it was the way he offered to produce a freaking song to be used as a soundtrack to one of Jungkook’s short films. Maybe it was the way they ended up watching the first snowfall of the season together, side by side, looking out of the living room window. Maybe it was the way Namjoon’s left arm enveloped Jungkook’s shoulders in a soft side hug while they watched the snowflakes drift down and when Jungkook didn’t move, those dimples appeared on his cheeks.

But that was the only physical proximity for a while. The next day Jungkook could barely look at Namjoon and spent the day over at Yoongi’s place. He arrived just in time when Jimin was video calling his boyfriend, and proceeded to freak out about watching the first snow of the season together and it had to mean something, right? He put his arm around him while they stood in front of the window, Jimin, what the hell did it mean?

All the while Yoongi watched him with a cocked head, as if he was thinking hard about something, and then an amused smile shaped his lips. Jungkook thought it must have been because he had never had such a strong reaction for a boy - a man - before, especially one who was his roommate. Was it a brotherly hug? Namjoon hadn’t said anything or done anything else, did it mean he was interested in him or did he see Jungkook as a little brother? He was full of questions and asking them to the wrong people for sure, but he did not want to risk the little he had with Namjoon.

It was winter. The small affectionate moments he had with Namjoon were keeping him going, fueling and warming his heart enough to get through the coldest season. They watched movies together on the couch, huddled up under a blanket with cups of tea warming their hands. Going to the coffee shop in the morning for a cup of coffee before classes. Namjoon waiting for him outside the media building with a cup of hot chocolate in the evenings when he had classes later, walking back to the apartment together. Watching Namjoon work, focused on creating the loop he had been struggling with for a while, nothing seemed to fulfill what he wanted. Namjoon watching him work, editing an experimental short film he filmed for a class group project.

The freezing weeks passed like that, with Jungkook cooking different types of jjigae for them, Namjoon being allowed back in the kitchen mostly to keep him company, telling Jungkook he was hungry and will it take much longer?

He visited Yoongi once a week, calling Jimin together so he could freely talk about his growing fondness for Namjoon and get some advice he was keeping for when he thought the timing was right. Yoongi told him he had to create the right timing and he would actually probably be surprised if he acted on his desires. But Yoongi couldn’t know. He still had no clue about the mystery that was Namjoon’s love life, only that he had never taken anyone to the apartment.

Whether he was even interested in that, Jungkook had no idea, but he also had no courage to ask. Jimin suggested he did what he knew best: work with images. So he had been filming small snippets of their lives, their walks to their coffee shop, comfortable scenes at the apartment when no one else was looking but Jungkook through the camera lenses. Sometimes Namjoon asked to film Jungkook too, or positioned the camera so both of them were caught in the recording.

Winter went and spring came. Just as the flowers were starting to blossom on the street outside their windows, Jungkook was getting ready to show Namjoon the film. As he edited throughout the weeks, he noticed more than once how fondly he would look at the older man, and he could almost swear the gaze was reciprocated when he was not looking, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up. He made Yoongi promise he could crash at his place for a while in case things got weird and Namjoon kicked him out, to which Yoongi had let out a full laugh, something the boy had never heard before, and merely gave him a Sure, almost as if he was mocking Jungkook.

And so the day came. He chose the perfect song, adjusting his editing to fit the rhythm and lyrics, hoping it would express his love. Yes, he would call it love. He fell in love with the good person that the man was, with all the small quirks and imperfections.

He told Namjoon he had something to show, that he had finally finished his project and wanted to him to see. He waited for Namjoon to come back from his day out nervously, heart racing as he made them some tea while the man showered and got into more comfortable clothes. The video was ready to be played and Jungkook almost gave up, but decided this was the time.

He could not hide his feelings anymore.

And so he pressed play and closed his eyes. He had heard that song over and over again while editing, perfecting each millisecond of the final product. His heart was beating almost as loudly as the song, the sound filling his ears, his fingers clenching the fabric of his oversized black t-shirt, a shaky breath leaving his nose when he heard the final notes.

“Jungkook?”

He took a deep breath before opening his eyes, suddenly finding Namjoon’s face much closer than he was expecting, the man’s eyes staring into his own.

“I love you, too.”

The words had barely registered in his brain - although they had been imprinted on his heart - when Namjoon’s pillowy lips pressed softly against his, one of the man’s hands caressing his cheek, wiping at a tear he did not notice had fallen. He sighed into the kiss, relief perpassing his entire body. He loved him. When it finally clicked for him, his brain finally sent the necessary signals that made his arms go around Namjoon’s neck, his fingers entangling in the man’s hair and pulling him even closer. They moaned almost in synchrony when their tongues touched for the first time, Jungkook’s body almost undulating in a way that made Namjoon tug his hips towards himself, making the younger man sit on his lap.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” the older broke the kiss, staring into Jungkook’s eyes, “been waiting for you,” he murmured against the younger’s lips. As their mouths clashed in an open-mouthed kiss, Namjoon pulled Jungkook’s longer hair, making him bend back so he could have access to the expanse of his neck.

Jungkook moaned when Namjoon’s lips pressed onto his skin, licking and biting and sucking and definitely leaving some marks, and all he could do was clutch the older’s biceps, shifting his hips to try and alleviate some of the pressure that was making his pants tighter. The hand that was not entangled in Jungkook’s dark strands made its way down his body, grabbing a firm buttcheek first, then going to the younger’s hip.

“Wanna ride me?” Namjoon asked low on Jungkook’s ear, biting his lobe after.

“Yes, hyung” the word came out as a whine from Jungkook’s lips, his hips starting to move aided by Namjoon’s firm grip. “Your thighs…” he started, but couldn’t continue when he adjusted his hips just right and his hard erection pressed against one of Namjoon’s thighs.

“Yeah? I’ve seen you looking at them, Kook. So go on, ride my thigh, come on,” he said as he flexed his muscles, his other hand joining the one at Jungkook’s hip, one on each side now to help him move, to watch him fall apart.

Jungkook just closed his eyes and surrendered, his hips moving on their own accord, pressing his cock closer and closer to Namjoon’s, soft whines and pleas tumbling out of his mouth as he lost himself in the movements. It was too much and not enough, his erection pressing just right so his skin glided back and forth on the fabric of his underwear stimulated by the older’s thigh, the couch too small for this - yet he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else at the moment. He needed it, and the sense of urgency overtook his body, his movements more frantic as he gripped the older’s hair and kissed him sloppily, letting out his breathy whimper against Namjoon’s lips. He wanted it.

“I’m… I’m close, hyung,” he had to pause to whimper again, a shiver going through his body from how close he was. “I want to touch you, hyung.”

“Touch me, Kook, make me cum with you, hold on just a bit,” Namjoon all but moaned into his lips when one of the younger’s hands reached into his pants.

Namjoon’s cock was heavy and hard and big, yet the skin was so soft in his hand, and Jungkook immediately closed his fist around it, his palm wet from the precum that had already gathered on the bulbous head, aiding his movement. And if Jungkook thought Namjoon’s speaking voice was deep, his mind and ears were certainly not prepared for the low guttural moan leaving those swollen lips, his own hips stuttering, pleasure coursing through his entire body, from the tip of his toes to the ends of his hair, his cock pulsating with release inside his pants as he pressed it against the strong thigh beneath him. He took a second to breathe and enjoy the tingling in his body, but soon noticed his hand had stopped. His gaze met Namjoon’s, his hand moving up and down inside the man’s pants.

“Cum for me, hyung, please,” he begged, wanting to pay attention to that moment of euphoria when it crossed his hyung’s face. And so it did; he watched as Namjoon threw his head back on headrest of the couch, hips raising and fucking into the tight grip around his cock, that heavy moan escaping his lips again as Jungkook felt the thickness of the release coating his hand. But he kept moving, prolonging Namjoon’s pleasure until it became too much and his hand was stopped, a smile stamped on the older man’s face.

There were no words needed for a while, until it seemed to finally click for Jungkook.

“Wait, you said you love me too.”

“I’ve been trying to express it for a while... And your eyes do this cute thing where they widen whenever you think you are caught and should change your gaze, so I noticed you were interested too. Plus Yoongi told me.”

“Wait, what?” He turned his head fast to look at Namjoon again, “You know Yoongi-hyung?”

And so he explained how they’ve known each other for years and how they’ve collaborated in music production before, under the names of RM and Agust D. He’d heard of RM, even heard Yoongi mentioning it more than once, and thinking back, he kept talking about RM more and more after he moved in with Namjoon. Oh. And then he remembered Yoongi’s smirks and head shakes, his certainty that Jungkook would not be turned down.

“You still haven’t said it.”

“I love you, Namjoon-hyung.”

And as Jungkook woke up the next morning, warm and cozy under Namjoon’s blankets, legs entangled and bodies pressed together, he breathed easier, lighter, happier. And he made a mental note to thank Jimin for applying for that scholarship and being so good that he’d gotten it. Maybe he would have met RM at some point, but he didn’t want to think of other possibilities. Living together and falling in love, getting to know each other was perfect for now.

They met in autumn, got closer through the cold days in winter, and their love bloomed in spring.

He could barely wait to see what summer had in storage for them.

[thenovelartist]

A Blanc Slate, Chapter 9

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25. Study

They didn’t meet in the bars of the Eiffel Tower, which might have been for the best. Ladybug couldn’t help but recall that day in the rain he’d first appeared to her, his suit whiter than snow, and almost completely cut her from his life. No matter how much she tried to cling to the hope Chat had changed, part of her still worried he would try to do that.

When she landed in the back alley they agreed to meet up in, she caught sight of her partner, collapsed on the ground and leaning against a building. His head was propped up, facing the moon and highlighting the paleness of his skin. For a moment, she studied her partner, taking in everything from his posture to his expression to even the finest details of how handsome he still looked to her despite his clear exhaustion.

Eventually, his eyes opened, and that hazy green gaze of his landed on her. With a fortifying breath, he heaved himself up from his spot, but he didn’t move any closer to her. Instead, he stood an arm’s length from the wall, likely to catch himself if his shaky balance was any indication.

“Hey,” was all she managed to say. She could have kicked herself because she had so many more things she wanted to say, but when it came down to it, it all died on her tongue.

“Hey,” he responded. He then held out a large, brown book to her. “Here.”

She blinked a few times as she looked at the book in his hands, her mind slowly catching up as she realized where she’d seen the cover before. “Is this…?”

“It contains all kinds of information about the miraculous,” Chat said. “Hawkmoth had it, but then I learned Mayura stole it, so I had to hunt it down. Which was why it took me so long to get this book for you.”

She stared at the book, stunned. Master Fu had given her the digital files he’d had when he transferred the guardian task over to her. But she realized Chat hadn’t known that, hence why he’d gone hunting for this. “Chat…”

“Here,” he said, waving the book out and expecting her to take it.

So she did, grabbing the familiar tome carefully.

“All I can hope for is that you’ll be able to find the information you need in that thing to fix what I broke,” he said, ears falling in guilt as his hand fell away, dropping the book completely into her hands. “I’m sorry; I’m leaving you to clean up this mess, but I can’t keep this ring any longer, and you know why.”

He then grabbed hold of his miraculous, ready to pull it off. “I know you always made a fuss about identities,” he continued. “So whether you want to know—”

“I want to know,” she cut in instinctually. “I… I know what I used to say, so I know this is really hypocritical of me, but… but now, I really do want to know. Because I want to keep in contact with you, Chat. I… it would hurt too much to just let you go.”

Pain flashed through his eyes at her words. With a sigh, he hung his head, his hands falling and bracing on his hips. For that moment, Ladybug could feel just how exhausted he was.

“Geez,” he spat. “I ask you that question for years, and the one time I hope you won’t press, you go on and decide to.”

“I know,” she said. “Trust me; I know. But things changed. Hawkmoth is gone, there aren’t any more threats, and if I’m left to chose between protecting identities or giving you up, then there’s only one answer to that.”

Chat quirked a brow at her before shaking his head. “When you phrase it like that, the answer really is obvious.”

“Glad you realize that much,” she said, her smile so weak it barely lasted two seconds.

He sighed, running his hand roughly through his hair. “Fine,” he said. “So be it. I won’t fight you.”

She let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding.

But she found herself breathless again when Chat looked back up at her, his eyes glassy. “We’ll continue this conversation later, but for now, Ladybug, I beg of you, just… leave me be for a month, at least. Then you can hunt me down and hound me and whatever. I just… can’t deal with this now. Please.”

Her heart shattered, not because of his words, but because her cat was so thoroughly and completely broken. He wasn’t even pushing her away anymore. He was tired and confused and struggling to come to terms with so many things, some of which not even Ladybug could guess. However, he wasn’t cutting her out completely, so she could give him space.

But not at this moment.

Without thinking, she stepped forward and took her cat in her arms, hugging him tightly and holding him close. “Then just let me have this moment,” she said. “I’m okay with giving you space after this. Just know I want to be here for you, kitty. In any way you’ll let me”

He’d frozen the second she wrapped her arms around him, but gradually, he relaxed, his chin coming to rest on top of her head as he began leaning into her embrace until she realized she was now the only thing keeping him upright.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s okay,” she whispered back, bracing herself so she could support him. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

He took a shaky breath. Then another. And Ladybug didn’t let go, letting him take his time and relishing any time he gave her.

“Claws in.”

His voice broke the long silence as a flash of green lit the alleyway. That’s when she realized she was no longer holding Chat Noir, but rather the boy behind that mask. And with their current position, she couldn’t even see him.

Still, she didn’t move. And she wouldn’t until he was ready to let her go. Because first and foremost, even before being his partner, she was his support.

Quite literally.

26. Reverse Crush

After a moment, Chat, er… the man who was Chat shifted his footing so as to stand on his own two feet. Ladybug continued to hold him steady until she felt he was standing without her assistance before she took a half-step back.

“Sorry,” he muttered, his voice rough with exhaustion.

“It’s o—”

She did not get to finish her ‘okay’, because she was now able to look up at the man she’d called her partner for years. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she’d be stunned speechless by his face.

But… here she was. Because it was a face all too familiar to her.

“Adrien?”

A weak half-smile ticked up the corners of his lips. “Yeah,” he mumbled, voice dejected for some reason she couldn’t quite fathom. “That’s me. Perfect poster boy of Paris.”

Oh… she supposed he was. He was one of Paris’s most prolific models, up until the downfall of his father.

Shit. His father…

Her mind was positively reeling with all the new information as she rapidly put pieces of information together. Ladybug’s vision blurred as tears began dripping from her eyes. Because in the end, the one thing her mind still clung to above all else was he wasn’t just Chat anymore; he was Adrien. He was her friend both in and out of the suit. And for the past two months, she’d watched him suffer and struggle trying to balance the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“How the hell are you still standing?”

That… was not what she’d wanted to say.

He quirked a brow. “What?”

All her earlier prepared speeches were no longer relevant or even able to be remembered at this point. And no other words seemed to be coming to her. Adrien was still waiting for an answer, and finally, after swiping the tears off her face, she figured out how to give him one. “Spots off.”

In a flash of pink, she turned to Marinette. Never did either of their gazes leave the other, Marinette intent on watching Adrien’s expression while she was sure Adrien just didn’t have the thought to look away. Now, she was watching as confusion and shock played out on his face.

And when he stumbled backwards, she reached for him best she could.

She only partly stopped his fall, Adrien having mostly caught himself against the wall. Still, he slid down to the ground, basically unable to hold himself up, and Marinette, in helping him down, found herself half-way on top of him.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, running his hands down his face before peeking back at her through is fingers.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing or a ‘you don’t know how to process this’ thing?” she asked, her heart racing a mile a minute. “Because I’m kinda somewhere between the first and last myself.”

She didn’t get an answer. Instead, Adrien slung his arms around her, pulling her close and clinging to her like his lifeline.

She sighed, tension leaving her body in an instant as a relieved smile spread across her face. “Okay. I’m okay with this.”

“Last one.”

“Huh? Oh,” she said, taking a moment to realize what he meant. “Then take all the time you need. I don’t have a second boy to worry about anymore; I’ve just got one that’s been giving me two sets of heart attacks. So feel free to hog my night.”

A weak chuckle rolled through him. Marinette gladly took that win.

“Well,” she continued, settling into his embrace while she embraced him back. “Guess I know why you were pushing Marinette to stay with Adrien. You could have just asked me as Adrien, though.”

He shrugged. “I… realized I really wanted you there. I just… didn’t know how to say it.”

“You could have told me outright.”

“It sounded too selfish.”

“Never.”

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“Chat could have also asked Ladybug for the same,” Marinette added. “In fact, I wanted Chat to ask me.”

“It now makes sense why you were doing that,” he muttered, burying his face in her shoulder. “Pushing me to meet with you.”

“I thought you loved Ladybug.”

“I did,” he answered. “And I do.”

“So you were pushing her away because you didn’t want her hurt? Because you have a tendency to take everything on your own shoulders?”

He shrugged, but Marinette knew it was because he was reluctant to admit she was right.

“So what made Marinette different?” she asked. “That you would choose her over Ladybug.”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, she was worried he wouldn’t answer. “Well…” he finally admitted. “The little spitfire wouldn’t leave me the hell alone, and she kinda grew on me.” He squeezed her tighter. “But, I’m really glad she did.”

I am, too. “So you would have given up the love of your life for a girl you didn’t love but who forced herself into your life?”

“I tried pushing you away, too,” he said. “But you wouldn’t let me do that. And then… I guess after a while, you just… I don’t know, wore me down enough where I couldn’t push you away anymore.”

“I’m glad,” she said. “Even if I was being annoying.”

He huffed.

“Now, I guess the real question is: is Chat going to push Ladybug away, too?”

He paused, lifting his head up off her shoulder so he could look at her properly. Before he could even speak, Marinette was able to relax upon taking in the sincere expression he was wearing. “No,” he said. “He won’t.”

Relief flooded her, and an exhaustion she could not have predicted hit her like a truck. She snuggled back into his chest, happy to hold him and be held by him, even if it was in some dark, dingy, moonlit back alley. “I’m really glad to hear that."

27. Singing

They ended up back at Adrien’s place. In the end, Marinette did take the ring from him. Of course, she hadn’t wanted to. Not in the slightest. But when it came down to the fact that his ring was making him sick, she also didn’t want to leave it with him a moment more. She’d figure out how to fix it later, planning to ask Tikki for help as well as scour that book for any clues.

But at the moment, she was more concerned getting her partner to bed. Starting tonight, she would nurse him back to health, and there was nothing he could do to prevent her from doing that.

Thankfully, he didn’t seem apt to oppose.

Upon crashing down into his bed, Adrien reached a hand out for her. She couldn’t help but smile, settling down next to him and letting him wrap an arm around her.

“You got very needy,” she teased, thinking about how only a couple months ago, he had been completely adamant about cutting her out of his life. It was quite the change, but Marinette wasn’t complaining.

He just grunted, burying his head in her shoulder.

Giggling, Marinette began stroking his hair, absently humming a happy tune.

“You have a pretty voice,” he muttered.

“It’s the closest to a purr I have,” she shot back.

He hummed. “Now I know why you always made me purr against my will.”

She scoffed, amused. “When was it ever against your will?”

His silence was enough of an answer.

For now, she let it go, going back to her singing and continuing to do so until she felt his deep, steady breathing indicate he was asleep.

She smiled but didn’t stop stroking his hair. “My good kitty,” she murmured, her heart finally able to settle calmly for the first time in ages. He was back where he belonged: by her side.

Actually, he was closer than that but still perfectly in place. And Marinette wouldn’t have it any other way.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Mount Everest Ain’t Got Shit On Us (Fezco x fem!reader, Part 2.)

Description: You were always told that your life will be as you wish it to be if you’ll study enough. That it will pay off if you work hard. And some people were given you like the scary example of what will happen when you don’t obey. But sometimes it feels good to disobey.

A/N: I think we found the right ground for this... Something (it ain't one shot but I don't know if we can call it series either, we'll see). I like to start with something like Rue did - a bit of narrating and then slowly slipping into the "episode". Let me know if something will not add up for you, ok?

Word count: 2.5 K

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety and drug addiction, strong LBGT themes, age gap, Rue's maniac/bipolar episodes. The normal things.

Masterlist and declaration: H E R E

Sometimes the feeling of not belonging somewhere grows over your head so much that you actually feel like you don't belong anywhere, to no one. That you don't even have a place to come back to. It is scary to go through a place alone when all those people look at you because they see for the first time. It feels like they are whispering things about you, that they are laughing at you and you can feel the anxiety inside of you growing. 

It hurts. It hurts so much that you just want to crawl onto the toilette cab, sit there and cry to your own knees until it's over.

Those shared looks judging your appearance, your looks, your make-up or your old favorite shoes. Those are the things that slowly kills you from the inside.

The people smoke there even tho they shouldn't, snorting because of some jokes,  looking all cool and chilled and for you, it is a walk of shame. Your head is kept down and you continue to the building at a quick pace, hoping that you will not be too exciting for them. And it doesn't matter if it's a new workplace, new school or a new home for seniors for that matter. It's the same over and over again.

A neverending cycle.

To find the office where you had to pick up the paperwork that needed to be done and taking your schedule was probably the hardest thing you have ever done. It felt almost impossible. The crowd and groups of people your age took you from one side of the building to the another and you felt so lost. Like never before. 

The door finally appeared after first class already started. When you slowly stepped into that small room, you looked like a mess. It was a small room with one window, it's walls were calmingly green and the pictures and motivational posters with kittens made you grin.

An old lady smiled at you from behind the desk. She appeared to be a kind person. It comforted you a bit, sitting in her office, looking her to her hazel-brown eyes with the last bit of confidence you were able to find somewhere inside of you.

“So you are new here, I see, I see.” - Mrs. Smith told you when she prepared the papers for your parents to sign up and printed you your own class schedule. Her heart-shaped face lit up with a smile when she leaned closer to you. - “Don't worry about being late. No one showed you around and you could find me anyway. It is totally fine if you will be lost in this building for the first couple of days, sweetie. You need to learn a lot.” - Her fingers patted your wrists knitted together tightly. You accidentally exhaled out loud because you held your breath again, smiling at her lazily. 

“Hope that the professors won't be mad.” - A giggle came out of your mouth and Mrs. Smith stood up to brew you some tea. 

“You can be here for until the end of your first class if you’re so scared. You seem to be feeling uncomfortable, am I right?” - She gave you the cup, sugar to add-in and a cookie. Your head nodded. - “I am a granny of two, I can sense when you don’t feel good."

A couch in the corner was the place you chose to chill at. You sat in a small ball there with your knees crossed over each other, your earbuds plugged into the small jack on the top of your phone and sometimes you sipped a bit of the tea.

The feeling of melancholy took over you as you went through the new post on Instagram made by people who you were used to seeing daily. Once again, you felt like you didn't belong to that place, like on a short trip to Disneyland. But this trip was permanent. And the harder the reality dropped on your shoulders, the worse you felt.

You couldn't say that you hate this whole place. You liked it, it was a normal city, normal neighborhood, nothing too weird. But that little worm of knowing that you're not at home anymore was keeping that feeling alive. For a few moments, your eyes and your mind drifted away into a place far away in your head.

The bell-ringing was a sound you almost welcomed. It brought you back to reality, leaving Mrs. Smith's little office. It made your mind occupied with different things, your nose shoved into the piece of paper with the schedule. Mrs. Smith was kind enough to print you a map of the school and gave you how you should go. That was a thing that made you smile. Kindness. Random kindness from a woman who saw a strange girl for the first time. It was her job most probably but you were thankful for it either way.

Sometimes all of us feel like a hero of a novel or a movie. The days slowly become on a long, neverending surreal piece of art as the faces and colors mash up into one painting. Your mind seems to be too occupied to actually take notice of something. Too occupied to take a hold of itself and you drift away into places far, far away.

You couldn't seem to remember or recall a single word the teachers have said to you. And they seemed to ignore you as well, it was like a symbiosis. Why should they be excited about you? A new face in the crowd was not that interesting to ask for a name. It was just one face between many ones. Why should they care? Your face wasn't anything that has the power to change the whole world. Or your name.

First moments you actually took notice of were when you made it to the cafeteria. Nobody looked at you anymore. You just took your plate and ordered some food like a normal student. 

A table in the back of the cafeteria felt ideal for you. You sat there with your lunch and ate, just watching the others and looking though your notebooks and what have you written down. To your surprise, your hand wrote automatically for you and there were truly some pieces of information written down in your typical messy handwriting.

"Hey, loser. Why you're alone?" - A girl's voice asked you in a cocky manner. At first, you thought that it's finally here - your first bully. But when your eyes found her face, she seemed to be strangely kind with a cocky smile and raised eyebrows. Messy brown curls framed her face while her skin had the color of darkened caramel. Your clothing style was really similar - but her Converse shoes were all tied up and not torn.

She had a tall girl next to her. Her make-up was heavy, her hair was a color extravaganza and her clothing style reminded you of anime cosplay and San Diego's comic con. Her skin was almost white, Albin-ish or what. Something made her really pretty. Whether it was her large nose or her eyes, you couldn't tell. But she seemed nice, her presence felt nice as well even tho you saw her for the first time ever. Her lips were giving you a graceful smile, she rolled her eyes at the brunette's questions and then she pinned her eyes on you.

"Fuckin' hell, I'm just kiddin', girl. You're lookin' all like holy shit I'm busted, like in the series about that cheating bastards. Oh man, you should see yourself. But you're sitting at our table." - The brunette said less cockily and more jokingly, slowly sitting down with her food.

"Does that mean I should leave?" - Your voice trembled and you sound panicked. Brunette took a good, long look at you and the other girl sat next to her.

"Of course you can stay! Don't be angry about Rue. She's a pain in the ass when she has her episodes. Right now, we're in the manic phase so she won't shut up. And she has mean comments that don't make sense most of the tomes." - The girl with pretty the make-up offered her hand for a handshake and you accepted it. - "Name's Jules by the way. That's Rue." - Just as Jules said Rue's name, Rue managed to pull of Eminem's old rapping pose from one of his album covers and nodded at you with a weird cocky smile.

"Wazzup', newbie?" - Rue said with a high laugh while Jules looked like she's about to kill her in the next few moments.

"I'm Y/N." - You said quietly and Jules let go of your hand.

"Ya all brand new out 'ere, aren't ya?" - Rue entwined her fingers on the table and you looked you dead in the eye, being serious all of a sudden. Like a detective. -"She thinks she's like Morgan Freeman or what when she has her phases. A detective or what." - Jules laughed.

"But Morgan Freeman is the man, Jules. Just the man. He's all cool and shit." - Rue laughed at her. Those two seemed to be a funny pair of... Friends? A couple? You couldn't tell. They acted like friends, but they looked at each other with tender smiles. You could only guess.

“What did bring you this part of the world? Adventure or lousy parents?” - Jules gave you a slight smirk and playfully raised her eyebrows.

“Dads work brought us here. But I and my siblings are kinda cool about all of that. We can have a new experience.” - You shrugged your eyebrows and took a bite of your sandwich. 

“If you're looking for a drug paradise, ya are right where ya wanted to be, whaddayasay?” - Rue wiggled her eyebrows and opened her yogurt, sticking her spoon inside of it, drolling some pills into the vanilla pudding with her long, delicate yet strong fingers. Your eyes instantly popped out and your it almost fell out as you watched the pills. 

“What. The. Hell?” - You squealed in a high pitched tone and rose her eyebrows, asking you about what is the matter.

 “I have BPAD, what did ya expect, man? This is the better way to take the medication. Ya want me to gulp all of it or what?” - Rue said in a joking tone, she was ironic, but she gave you that addict look. 

“Trust me, I searched through her bag. This is really only the medication for her BD. It's cool. No drugs.” - Jules assured you. You nodded slowly with a frown on your face. Could Rue had some history with addiction? Or what was Jules talking about? You watched the way Rue slowly mixed her pudding. 

“Just the way I love it.” - Rue hummed happily with her eyes closed. She had a tired look on her face, the bags under her eyes made her gaze look more devilish and her cheeks were too sharp. But she had a beautiful mouth and full lips. 

“If you don't mind a pair of weirdos as your friends, we agreed we could make a trio out of our duo. But we are something between girlfriends and friends so I just want to warn before any weird situations happen.” -  Jules put her head on Rue's shoulder and smiled happily. 

“After ten minutes you know me? Wow, that was a quick one.” - You joked and Rue pointed on you with her spoon. 

“Ten minutes is everything you need to know if a person is a dickhead - trust me, I would know if you're a super dickhead. Ya seem to be cool.” - Rue winked. Was the situation that bad in here? Just ten minuted to know if a person is a dickhead? That was something. 

So what was in stock for you? An ex-junkie with a BPAD and an all-anime-about girl who looked like a colorful extravaganza. Better than a jock with his nose rose up and an attitude of a dickhead or a chick with anorexia you thought to yourself. As always you were lost in your head for a moment - thinking about Rue's disorder. They told you that Rue is in her manic state, how was she like during her depression moments? Will it be alright? 

“Okay. Cool.” - You said in the end. New people and new friends, just as your older sis said. It felt really cool. 

“Welcome to the losers club.” - Rue winked at you playfully. 

At three p.m. Fran waited on you and your brother in the car. You stuck with Rue and Jules for the rest of your day, Rue's manic ass making you laugh all day. You didn't find her bickering and manic shit annoying at all, you laughed at it a lot actually. Both of you walked you back to your sister's car, do not letting your anxiety get over your head. 

“See ya tomorrow, the new one.” - Rue giggled and threw her hand over her girlfriend's shoulder and brought her closer to her small, thin body, hugging her tightly.

“See you tomorrow, guys.” - You smiled and crawled into Fran's car. Your sis was smiling at you proudly, waving to Rue and Jules. You could feel that Fran is excited about that. You lean from the car's window and waved at them excitedly. Rue was dramatic, holding her entwined palms on her chest, sending you some kisses and pretending to cry. 

“I told you, shithead. You have friends! Nice!” - Fran patted your upper thigh and grinned in front of you. You two took the same route you took on your way to school. 

The gas station came up to your sight quicker than it did before. Nobody was there this time - no smoking boy with a blue design t-shirt and jeans hugging his upper thigs. The spot which came significant to you that morning was empty now, no boy in your sight. 

“What you're lookin' at, shithead? Some magical place you're searching for? You did the exact same thing in the morning.” - Fran told you quietly, lighting up her cigarette before mom could see her smoking. 

“Nothing. Let it be.” - You smiled at her shily and sat back to your seat. 

The feelings of loneliness can be a long time thing. But sometimes, just sometimes and when you are really lucky, someone can show you wour place and make you feel like someone cares about you. You can meet new, special people who take you as you are. 

And when you are this lucky, nothing can be better than that. But not to give you false promises - it isn't a thing that does happen every time. 

[sunniepie]

.

[the-original-bookworm]

Merlin Rec list part 1

dreams for wings and wanderers

Dragons are feared and mistrusted throughout Albion, and there are very few of them left in Camelot, for Uther’s long campaign against magic also included hunting down all the dragons in the wild. Now, Camelot is recovering from the invasion of Cenred and Morgause's army. Prince Arthur is the one in charge, and Merlin finds out that his secret regular visits to the covert haven't been very secret at all. There's a great deal of manly bonding with the Knights, inquisitive dragons being inquisitive, and a record-breaking number of near-death experiences for Merlin. And this is before he gets his very own dragon. (A Merlin/Temeraire fusion.)

-little long, but extremely interesting concept. Loved the bond between Merlin and the dragons.

merlinfic: job orientation

In the not so distant future, Merlin builds a tower. That's not suspicious at all.

-short, post! Magic reveal, there is a prequel but I like this one better, love Merlin’s obliviousness. Both Arthur and Merlin felt very on point with characters, they acted exactly like themselves if that makes sense.

Touch Me (Not)

In which Merlin is reluctantly pure, Arthur is unfairly tempting, and the Great Dragon sits back with popcorn to watch.

-smut does happen. Basically Merlin thinks he can’t have sex cause he has to be “pure” for destiny to work. This doesn’t really have much of anything to do with any timeline in the series, it feels like you could stick it in between the scenes of the show and it just WORKS. Kinda short, one-shot type of thing

In Love with my Radio

Merlin listens to the radio, Arthur stalks Merlin, Morgana lives to create chaos in Arthur's life, and then everyone goes to McDonalds! Also love happens.

From the kmm prompt: Arthur has an anonymous blog/lj/twitter where he posts about his life, and Merlin follows it RELIGIOUSLY. Arthur starts posting about how he's stalking this amazingly hot guy...

-ok. This is just. HILARIOUS. And Merlin is so oblivious. Decent sized fic, there are some add on’s I would call them? Like one shots of the story continued. It’s an AU. And I just love it.

Pining for the Moon

First, there is the rage, like nothing Arthur has ever known. It’s hot, hotter than anything, hotter than the kitchen ovens and the blacksmith’s forge and dragon’s breath. It fills him to the brim and carries on, washing over him in waves that scald, and, as Arthur looks around him at the carnage, the man at its centre, he has no idea how he is ever meant to let go of it.

“I can explain,” Merlin says, his eyes still blazing as he kneels there, charred by the fires he lit, blood on his hands. So much blood. “Arthur, sire, please, I can explain.”

First, there is the rage, and then there is a knife at Merlin’s throat.

-this is. Wow. I gotta say, this is a really heavy fic. I usually go for more fluff, good plot line but happy endings type thing. This was completely not that, tho there is a happy ending. Arthur actually kills Merlin for being a sorcerer only regrets it so much and Merlin was actually - well no spoilers but there is a happy ending. Read it, but be warned it’s heavy.

Damsel in a Phone Booth

it’s the middle of the night and i’m walking home alone in the dark and there’s this guy following me and he’s starting to gain on me and i found this phone booth with a lock on the door and i tried to call my best friend but my hands were shaking so badly i accidentally dialed the wrong number and i don’t even know you but help me” au (merthur)

-so, short and sweet, a good story, good fluff after the “pining for the moon” fic.

Sort of a Tourniquet

Arthur gives Merlin a plastic ring as a joke. But what nobody knows is how much Merlin really likes wearing it. Modern AU with lots of pining.

-sweet, pure fluff. The pining almost hurt me. It’s an AU, and I wanted to kill Merlin a few times, but good story.

Evil Overlord, Inc. Official Website

Merlin is a recent graduate with a double doctorate in metaphysics and physics. Arthur is a low-level paper pusher with a desk in the sub-basement of MI5. They live in a world with ridiculous laws and restrictions against anyone who might be supernatural in any way, shape, or design.

Merlin has huge debts looming over this head, a few quid left in his bank account, and no job prospects. Arthur is pushing thirty, in a dead-end job with no chances of promotion to fieldwork agent, and is thoroughly bored with his life.

One ill-advised Craigslist advert, five pushy mates, one nosy all-knowing sister, and a hacked email account later, Merlin and Arthur take the world by storm.

(Or, more precisely, they take over the world.)

-love love l0ve love. Even in an AU, Arthur can’t stand not running everything. Must read.

The History of Two Conversations (On Paper)

This is a very useful spell, Merlin wrote. He formed the letters carefully, small so he could write more later, if he needed to, and did not at all wonder if he was going to get in trouble or be cursed or something for writing in the margins of an ancient spell book.

He told the book (in case it had an opinion on the matter), "I am just imparting my knowledge to future generations. I'm sure they will find my comments helpful."

The book made no reply, so Merlin decided it was fine and leaned over the tome again adding, You can clean almost anything with it, even though in this book it refers to badgers alone. Don't believe that for a second. Just yesterday I cleaned out the extraordinarily vile bottom of Arthur's miscellaneous chest using this spell and it worked a treat. He thought for a moment before finishing, One downside: Leaves an odd sulphurous odour after use. Better not to use on clothing and/or self.

-so completely recommend, Arthur finds Merlin’s magic book with merlin’s handwriting in it. Wish we could have seen Arthur’s thoughts but that’s my only complaint

Radioman

The reason SAS Captain Arthur Pendragon can't keep a communications specialist in Team Excalibur because none of them are good enough. And then Lieutenant Merlin Emrys gets assigned to his squad, and Arthur does everything he can to prove that Merlin isn't good enough, either. Except he is.

-ok so this is a series, EXTREMELY long. I gotta admit I haven’t finished it yet but everything I read has been downright amazing.

The Crown of the Summer Court

The king sent me to get you," Merlin said, with a tone that implied strongly that he wasn't rolling his eyes where Arthur could see, but just wait until his back was turned. "He said you're to get changed into formal clothes and meet him in the Great Hall, there's a delegation coming from the Summer Court."

-right, so I am not only recommending this fic, I recommend any and all Merlin fics written by the author. She is downright AMAZING. Like, one of the best fics I’ve read amazing. Maybe THE best.

Three Tasks

Arthur is the Royal Arbiter for Suitable Suitors' Disputes. He (and his trusty companion, the golden-dragon-tasselled hat) alone can determine who is fit to woo royal servants and other assorted courtiers in Uther's court.

(In light of the sentence above, the following may not appear to be a truthful statement, but: not as cracky as that makes it sound. Really.)

This time: Arthur arbitrates a dispute (with heretofore unforeseen wisdom); Merlin observes.

-weird concept, but very good. I could really imagine being in Arthur’s head, it sounded just like him. And it kinda humanizes Uther, which is really hard to do.

The Pendragon Guide to How Not to Date

Modern day student AU. Still set in Britain. Morgana sends Arthur on some blind dates that don’t go quite according to plan

-warning. Smut. Liked it, was more fluff then plot, but seriously adorable

The student prince

A Modern day Merlin AU set at the University of St Andrews, featuring teetotal kickboxers, secret wizards, magnificent bodyguards of various genders, irate fairies, imprisoned dragons, crumbling gothic architecture, arrogant princes, adorable engineering students, stolen gold, magical doorways, attempted assassination, drunken students, shaving foam fights, embarrassing mornings after, The Hammer Dance, duty, responsibility, friendship and true love...

This story was inspired by the thought of Prince William of Wales (and indeed the current Max von Hapsburg) studying at the University of St Andrews; it is also, as the title suggests, at least a little inspired by the operetta 'The Student Prince'.

-so I don’t really go for modern day royalty much, but this was really good. There is a plot, though it revolves mostly around the merthur romance. Reads like a romance novel.

Two Weeks Notice

Arthur is a prattish Executive VP of the Pendragon Corporation with a disturbingly non-ironic love of Demotivational posters. Merlin is a tree-hugging barista with a "magic" tongue. Morgana's a peeping Tom and her breasts have superpowers. Gwen and Lancelot get married. Owain is the company bicycle. Arthur attempts to steal Merlin's affections from Will through epic DDR combat. Merlin gets drunk a lot. There is a pillow fight, and a helicopter ride, and rooftop confessions, and Arthur decides Merlin really is his destiny, whether he likes it or not.

-it’s like if you took the Merlin story and set it in modern times. Like, almost exactly. There are plot differences of course but it just feels like Merlin. well, if it was ‘stop killing the planet’ instead of ‘stop killing sorcerers’ and Arthur was prince of a company instead of a kingdom.

Harmonia Mundiais

Music has always been the centre of Merlin’s reality, and the idea of silence is unimaginable. But when Camelot is deafening, Arthur is distracting and the dragon is utterly unhelpful, will his gift turn out to be a blessing or a curse?

-the ultimate concept , takes the music instead of magic idea and makes it music is magic, like literally. Amazing. It does do this thing where Merlin gives off this kind of innocent thought process? It’s not a bad thing, it just gives this idea that Merlin prioritizes this music in his head and on a subconscious level he can’t understand how others can’t hear it, though he knows they just don’t.

Stars Above, Stones Below

After the disastrous end of his betrothal to Gwen and the regret of his offer to Princess Mithian, Arthur swears off finding a wife until he's ready to wed. When Merlin offers himself to Arthur as bedmate, Arthur suggests they hand-fast in secret for a single year of mutual pleasure without obligation. As their year together unfolds, and secrets and betrayals unravel around them, Arthur and Merlin learn there is no such thing as uncomplicated pleasure. Everything they thought they knew can change in the span of a single year.

-smuuuuuut happens. Magic reveal is good, lobe how it handled the Gwen banishment thing

send me any awesome merthur fics not on the list!