#whenever she looked in a mirror she would still see her sister's eyes staring right back out at her

[aparticularbandit]

Okay, so. Something that's bothered me since learning about Ryoko is the eye color difference. Ryoko's eyes are red; Junko's eyes are blue.

One of them is clearly wearing contacts. But who?

The automatic assumption is Junko. Because let's be real, Ryoko would forget to wear whatever contacts Matsuda gave her - and then forget that she WAS wearing them, which wouldn't be great.

Wearing contacts is also an aspect of being a gyaru, so it would make sense for Junko to be wearing them.

But! What's more fun is this!

I debated whether Junko's true eye color should at all be related to Mukuro's. Mukuro's eye color, depending on image, is either gray or the same blue-grey as Junko's, even without contacts. As twins, I thought it would be cool if their eye colors matched. Even if they are fraternal twins.

However.

Mukuro and Junko both fall into the Red Oni, Blue Oni trope, Junko as red and Mukuro as blue. So it would make sense for Junko's natural eye color to reflect that in the same way that Mukuro's does.

So Junko is wearing contacts. The assumption holds. Why does this matter?

Because of all the colors she could choose for the eyes of her Junko Enoshima persona, she stole her sister's.

That's what matters.

[deconstructthesoup]

Thinking about how if Jenny did come to London with the others, and if Monty does manage to turn back into a human and ends up joining the agency... there's seven members of the agency. Which means that there's one that matches up with each member of the Endless.

Edwin---well, that one's obvious, isn't it? He's come face to face with Despair, walked in her domain, stared her in the eyes as she quietly declared that they were friends now. He is, at his core, deeply and profoundly sad, and there's no denying that. Until Edwin allows himself to be happy, Despair will always have her hooks in his heart, and even when he's free of them, she will always linger in the faintest parts of his ghostly aura, will always be there whenever he travels through a mirror.

Charles... oh, Charles. We all know which of the Endless he would be the most affected by, don't we? He claims that he can't say he's in love with Edwin back, but the minute those words left his mouth, Desire was up there in their domain, cackling at how fucking idiotic this boy is. If we get a season 2, we will absolutely see them taunting Charles, purring into his ear that they know how much he's been ignoring his own desires and wouldn't it be nice to just acknowledge it, darling? Edwin was able to tell you, why can't you just say it back?

Crystal already feels as if she's losing her mind half the time, and doubly so now that she's fully warring with two very separate sides of herself. Would it really be a stretch for her to try to help a lonely-looking girl with wild red hair one night, only to touch her and immediately get pulled into a world that is a riot of color and confusion and things that don't and shouldn't exist? Delirium would probably be kind to her---her default state tends to be kind, even if not everyone sees it that way---but I doubt Crystal would have a good time there, even as Delirium compliments her on her name and proudly proclaims that she's a shiny rock and a pretty building and a football team and a flying machine all in one.

Niko's lost somewhere right now, and we all know she has a long journey home. I don't think it would be unlikely for her journey to eventually lead her to a palace with a roof made of stars, or a library full of every book that has ever been written---and every book that never has. And Dream might see this girl who doesn't belong in his world, but who can't take his sister's hand, and show her the way back to her friends. After all, she's lost so much and is still full of so much hope, and how could Dream not admire someone like that?

Monty... well, he spends all his time looking up at the stars, and not just because they sparkle and shine and all of his crow instincts say that they're treasures meant to be plucked from the sky. He wants to know the future, his future, to find out whether or not he can be something other than just a witch's pet. And maybe, some of his wanderings will one day lead him into a labyrinth, and he'll come out the other side in the garden of Destiny. Will Destiny let Monty read from his book? Probably not, but I think being there might be comfort enough.

There's a slim chance of Jenny ever meeting Destruction, but they are more similar than you may think. Jenny, like him, is a prodigal who left her post, whose life always seems to fall apart, who struggles with a whirlwind of emotions that she can barely comprehend. And while he's off in a secluded land, finding new ways to channel creation rather than the purpose he was made for, she's rebuilding her life, as crazy as it may be.

And, well... we all know who the Night Nurse works for.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Trickster’s Pet, Part 2

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader, Gabriel & child!reader

Read part 1 here

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you find out Gabriel is dead, but then later you and the brothers are reunited with him

“We have to go back!” Sam tightened his hold when you tried to wriggle out of his arms. “Gabriel’s back there, we have to help him!”

Sam basically had to wrestle you into the back of the Impala before he got in the front seat, and Dean hit the gas. You continued to protest, demanding that he turn around.

“Honey…” Sam glanced at Dean before looking at you in the rearview mirror. “We can’t. Gabriel stayed behind to save us. He…he’s gone.”

“You don’t know that!” You cried. “We have to try!”

“He stayed back there to save us,” Dean insisted. “And he gave us this thing to keep safe.” Dean held up the dvd. “So that’s what we’re gonna do.”

“But…but…”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said quietly, suddenly realizing how much his little sister cared about the archangel. “There’s nothing we can do.”

…

“Gabriel?” Your voice was soft and gentle, but Gabriel still flinched at the sudden sound. Sam noticed the way you were practically shaking with excitement at the discovery of your friend still alive, but you held it in when you saw how scared he was. Your excitement turned to horror when you got a good look at the tortured archangel.

“C’mere sweetheart,” Sam scooped you into his arms, turning you away from the sight. He didn’t want you to have to see your friend like that; beaten up, bloodied, with his lips sewn together.

You squirmed in your big brother’s hold, desperate to get to your friend.

“What’s wrong with Gabriel?”

“He’s gonna be ok honey, he just…he got hurt.”

“I wanna stay with Gabriel!” You insisted, still struggling in Sam’s grip. Sam was about to carry you out of the room when a hand on his arm stopped him. He turned to see Gabriel looking at him; it was the first time he’d moved since he arrived at the bunker.

“You want her to stay?” Sam asked, surprised when Gabriel nodded. Sam reluctantly set you down on the library table, next to the chair that Gabriel was sitting in. You instinctively reached out and held onto your friend’s hand, and Sam was again surprised when the archangel didn’t flinch away from your touch, as he had all others.

“Sammy?” Your voice came out in almost a whimper, and Sam’s heart broke when he looked down to see you staring up at him, more afraid than he’d ever seen you.

“It’s ok honey,” he insisted, wondering if he should take you away despite Gabriel’s protests. “I’m gonna fix him right up, ok? He’s ok.”

You nodded, keeping hold of Gabriel’s hand while Sam got to work. He carefully cut the stitches on Gabriel’s mouth, noticing how Gabriel would squeeze your hand whenever it hurt. His brain was working overtime, constantly afraid that he was traumatizing his baby sister by letting you stay here to comfort a tortured archangel. You stayed strong though, gripping Gabriel’s hand even as your own shook.

“Alright, that’s it,” Sam said after snipping the last stitch. “Y/N, can you find Gabriel a room?”

“What the heck happened?” Dean asked after Gabriel followed you wordlessly out of the room.

“They tortured him,” Sam said quietly.

“Yeah no kidding,” Dean sighed. “What now? Do you think Y/N’s safe with him? I mean he doesn’t exactly seem like himself.”

“Honestly Dean, I don’t think Gabriel’s in much of a position to hurt anyone.”

“We need to get his strength back,” Castiel put in. “I think I might have a way.”

…

“He’s settled in.” Sam didn’t miss the nervous tinge in your voice. “What now?” You looked up at Sam, your eyes red-rimmed. “He…he’s really scared and-and hurt.”

“He’s gonna be just fine, ok?” Sam put his hand in your shoulder. “We have an idea on how to help him out.”

“I’m coming.” Your tone left no room for argument, although Sam could make you stay away if he wanted to.

“Fine by me,” Dean said, and when Sam frowned at him he whispered, “she calms him down. We might need that.”

…

The plan wasn’t going well. When Gabriel refused to take the grace, the guys tried another method: force. Just one touch sent Gabriel reeling, diving over the bed and huddling in the corner shaking.

“Stop it!” You cried out. “You’re scaring him!” You pushed past Cas and your big brothers, making your way slowly to the archangel.

“Hey Gabe,” you said quietly, your hands held out towards him. He watched you warily, shrinking in on himself. When you saw him retreating from you, you stopped your forward movement, opting to sit on the floor a few feet away. “I’m sorry they scared you. Is it ok if I come closer?”

Gabriel hesitated a moment before nodding, and you smiled and scooted closer to him.

“You don’t have to take the grace if you don’t want to. We’re just trying to help you, I promise.”

Sam and Dean watched from the corner of the room as Gabriel stared at you. Finally, he nodded.

“You wanna take it?” You asked, and he nodded again. You held your hand out, and Cas handed you the cool glass bottle, which you then passed to Gabriel.

Gabriel was just lifting it to his lips when all the lights in the bunker went out.

…

“Stay with Gabriel, ok?” To say Sam was worried about leaving his ten-year-old sister with a powerless archangel while a Prince of Hell was loose in the bunker would be an immense understatement, but he didn’t see any other option.

“Gabriel?” You turned your eyes to the archangel after your two brothers and Cas left. Gabriel just stared; he knew what you wanted, but he couldn’t do it. “Gabriel, please.” You gestured at the grace in his hands. “You can help them, please!”

Gabriel said nothing. He knew you were right, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t go back to what he was before, he couldn’t fight Asmodeus just to lose again.

You turned away from Gabriel when the sounds of your brothers screams reverberated through the bunker. You looked from Gabriel to the door.

“G-Gabriel, please. I-I know you’re scared, I can’t even-even imagine what he did to you. But I…but I need you, please.”

Gabriel let your eye for a split second, but the pain and fear he saw there made him look away.

“I have to help them,” you whimpered, and before Gabriel could even look up, you were gone.

“No,” he whispered, snatching up the grace and putting the bottle to his lips.

…

It was a stupid idea, doomed to fail, but you did it anyway because your brothers were in danger. You saw Cas’s angel blade lying on the ground behind Asmodeus, and you were reaching for it before your brothers even saw you enter the room. Asmodeus, unfortunately, was quite perceptive.

“Well well, the final Winchester.” You felt your feet leave the ground as the demon flung you across the room, before using his powers to cause a searing pain to course through your stomach. You were screaming in pain before you even hit the ground.

“No,” Sam groaned, but he hadn’t even gotten halfway to his feet before another, more powerful voice invaded the room.

“Leave. Her. Alone.”

A brilliant blue light blinded you momentarily, but when you managed to look up, you saw your favorite archangel in all his glory; Gabriel, eyes shining and wings extending from wall to wall.

“Aww, did I hurt your favorite pet?” Asmodeus chuckled, and when he twisted his hand the pain returned to you. You barely had time to let out a cry of pain before Gabriel barely lifted his hand, and suddenly the pain was gone.

“The Winchesters are under my protection. And you no longer hold the power here.” Gabriel glanced at you for a moment. “You may not want to watch this.”

You closed your eyes when Gabriel pulsed blue once again. There was a cry of pain from Asmodeus, a flash of light, and then…

Nothing.

You opened your eyes. Asmodeus was gone. And suddenly there was Gabriel, lifting you by your arms.

“You ok, squirt?” He asked, smiling slightly. You gave him a shaky nod, and he pulled you into a hug, letting your weak limbs collapse in his embrace. “It’s ok,” he breathed. “You’re safe now, no one’s gonna hurt you.”

“Thank you, Gabriel,” you breathed.

“It was about time I stretched my wings.” He smirked.

“So…you’re back?” Sam approached Gabriel slowly.

“Slow your roll, Winchester. I’ve got my power back, but I’m not ready to join your suicide fight.”

“But—“

“Look, I’m grateful that you guys brought me back, I really am, but…no. I’m staying out of this one.”

“Gabriel,” you spoke up. “Please, we need you.”

He shook his head. “You guys have this one. I’m rooting for you.” He gave a near-sardonic smile to your brothers before leaning down to you, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “But if you’re in danger, if you need my help…call me, ok?”

You looked up at him, wanting to be angry that he was leaving you guys, but you were still too relieved that he was ok.

“Ok, I will.”

He grinned.

“Great. Now turn that frown upside down. You’ll see me again soon, promise.”

And he was gone.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy

[silantryoo]

BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — goodbye, my danish sweetheart.

yoo jimin, third year

WARNINGS; objectification, outing, mentions of homophobia, mentions of sexual acts, self-sabotage, cheating, mentions of coercion, power imbalance, victim blaming (2.5k)

yoo jimin hasn't looked in a mirror since alex had left the team.

her best friend, the girl that she trusted, slept with the girl she loved. she didn't care whether or not alex was drunk, whether it was before anything went down between her and yeji.

she knew how jimin felt, how yeji was there for her during her injury, how much their captain helped her. jimin had even told alex how her stomach fluttered whenever she and their captain talked, and how her heart seemed to combust at the thought of yeji visiting her at the hospital.

alex should've known.

"she left the team."

a string of words, one of which should've given her a sense of relief. she longed for the euphoria, and the heavy weight from her chest lifted. jimin thought she would finally breathe the clean air she had desperately wished for.

it was poison, fire and acid mixed and poured down her throat. her lungs burnt, scarred as she struggled to breathe.

it was not only the air, but everything she touched. every surface - steel, metal, skin - seemed to bubble under her corrosive touch. all of the things she touched enveloped in the concoction that plagued her being.

guilt.

jimin had never felt as angry as she ever did. the lava that laid dormant inside her body could no longer sit still. everything had led up to the destruction of her and those around her.

alexandra baek was yoo jimin's best friend.

she knew her secrets, the lengths the younger girl would go to just to hide them. the things the younger volleyball player kept behind a locked door, she willingly let jimin have access to. it was eerily similar, the terror of disappointment shrouded alex the same way it did jimin.

jimin knew her weaknesses, all of them, even the ones that would ruin the younger girl's life.

"why is alex avoiding you?" aeri scrolled through her phone, and jimin could see her reading their texts over. "did you threaten her or something?"

threaten? no, jimin did much worse.

"i didn't."

aeri huffed, clearly not pleased with her answer. she thought this stupid feud would blow over. jimin cherished the younger girl, much like a sister.

she wouldn't throw that away for anyone, much less yeji.

"look, i know the whole thing with yeji is shit right now," aeri started, mentally noting the understatement. "and you're probably pissed at her for leaving the team, but she needs you right now."

jimin closed her eyes, picturing the creature she found staring back at her a few weeks ago. the one with soulless eyes, void of guilt, of compassion. dark brown eyes that only burned rage.

it was her father's eyes in her own.

"jimin..."

she didn't know why she felt like that, why it felt so good to finally erupt, to cause harm and hurt others the way they hurt her.

she was still a good person. jimin knew she had to be. this was just a momentary slip. it was just an accidental mishap.

"jimin." aeri sighed. "her parents found out."

guilt.

she knew.

she was the one who told the baek's about their daughter's fling. jimin had heard the slurs that were thrown over the phone, damning their own child for the things she felt.

she knew, she did it.

shin yuna was getting prettier each day.

she couldn't help but notice how the younger girl seemed to shine on court as of late. she liked the way yuna walk around like she owned the place, even though she clearly didn't. the way she silently smirked to herself whenever she got a kill lured jimin in.

it was like watching herself, without having to look at what she was becoming.

yeji glanced at her ace, grinning at the predatory look in her eye. it was refreshing to see jimin like this, void of morals and thinking only about what would please her.

it was only a matter of time.

"nice view?"

jimin recoiled, eyes harsh on her captain, watching her smirk. she hated how yeji seemed to think that the two of them were similar. of course, she found shin yuna attractive. it was shin yuna.

sue her for staring at yuna's legs.

jimin grumbled under her breath, walking away from yeji and sitting on the bench, near the others.

"bitch."

she couldn't believe that she dated that monster.

"that's odd." yuna stretched, and jimin felt a gnawing pit in her stomach. "yeji-sunbae's usually nice."

the girls in the vicinity glanced at her.

the yeji they knew was angry, hot-headed and rude. she'd rather rip your head off then say thank you for holding the door open. more often than not, yeji actually did yell at you for holding the door open.

"that's only because she wants to sleep with you, yuna." haewon shook her head, drinking from her bottle.

"you think so?" the freshman sat up, smiling coyly. "i mean, i am pretty hot."

jimin's eyes shot to yuna's smile, and she found herself clenching her jaw, biting back a hum of agreement.

what was she doing? she already had y/n. jimin didn't need more. maybe she craved more, but she would never ever cheat.

jimin calmed herself. finding one of her teammates attractive wasn't cheating. she didn't have any romantic feelings for the younger girl, anyway. it was just curiosity.

if jimin happened to imagine yuna in her bed from time to time, so what?

"that's not something to be proud of." chaeryeong muttered. she couldn't believe this was her crush's younger cousin. "that's like being happy a serial killer chose to kill you because you'd look pretty dying."

yuna shrugged. "and?"

"god." haewon could only sigh. out of everyone she's ever met, yuna seemed to be the most insane sane person. "i hope they don't make you captain next year."

jimin frowned, drowning them out as she took her shoes off.

she needed to stop letting yeji get to her. for as long as she's known her, yeji always pushed jimin's buttons. it was endearing at first, yeji claiming that she liked when jimin's eyebrows furrowed, how cute she looked when she frowned.

jimin didn't realize until now that yeji just liked pissing her off. she liked mentally tormenting her for some sick reason. the way the captain shoved her flaws in her face was to anger her, because it was funny.

it wasn't, and it never has been.

she didn't want to focus on yeji, not anymore. not when jimin had finally gotten the perfect girl, the girl that everyone had wanted.

l/n y/n.

she was adorable, caring in a way that jimin had never experienced. she'd constantly check on the older girl, asking about the little things that jimin didn't even think of.

the other day, y/n had even asked her if she ate. when jimin said no, she suggested that the two of them should go out together for food.

she had never experienced that type of care, considering yeji was her first and only relationship before y/n.

jimin glanced at wonyoung, sparing her a glare in which the younger girl returned by the tenfold.

jang wonyoung lucked out. it was a good thing jimin had managed to take what's rightfully hers.

"jimin-sunbae?" yuna asked, pulling jimin's gaze away from the heiress. "you took history of classical dance right?"

jimin nodded. "for my elective, yeah."

"do you have the notes?" yuna's voice sounded sweet, like a peach waiting to be eaten. "i have it this year and gaeul-sunbae refuses to give them to me."

"it's better to learn and write the notes yourself." gaeul muttered, putting on sweats over her shorts. "i told you, if you need help understanding the material after, i can help you study-"

"no." yujin tensed, her voice tight. her once expressive eyes turned firey as she looked at yuna. "i don't want yuna in our dorm. she might steal."

jimin rolled her eyes. yujin had been guarding gaeul like a dog since yeji managed to get her hands on the setter.

(she didn't understand how yeji could go from her to gaeul, considering the two were only similar in vulnerability.)

"i will not!" yuna whined, jimin's ears burning red. "maybe gaeul-sunbae's heart but-"

yujin paused, her body tense as she stood up from the bench. her fists were clenched, and her body language seemed to read pure rage, but jimin could see the way her lip quivered.

"excuse me?"

pain.

jimin had been feeling that recently, too.

"unnie," wonyoung muttered, tugging yujin's hand. jimin could see gaeul purse her lips, and it didn't take a genius to understand why. "sit down before gaeul-unnie scolds you."

yujin grumbled, begrudgingly sitting back down in between gaeul and wonyoung. the oldest of the three seemed down all of a sudden, and jimin wondered how gaeul could stand to be near wonyoung when all she did was take yujin's attention.

jimin hoped that one day, gaeul would wake up and face the horror that was jang wonyoung.

"i can give it to you tomorrow."

"i'll just drop by later." jimin froze. "my first exam's next week."

she didn't know why, but the thought of having yuna in her dorm set her skin on fire. jimin felt like she was suddenly lit by a match, her brain running wild.

she shook her head. jimin didn't need anything else but y/n. the volleyball player felt so emotionally fulfilled by the younger girl, even when their kisses felt empty and when y/n's words felt half-hearted.

"why'd you wait so long?" haewon knew that yuna was gonna bomb the test. "you're gonna fail at this rate."

still, it wouldn't hurt to urge aeri out, to make sure she spends the night with whoever the hell she meets at the club.

"yujin said that i have plenty of time to study."

besides, jimin didn't like yuna. nothing was going to happen.

she wasn't yeji, nor was she her father.

"yujin probably as a 0.1 gpa."

she wasn't a monster.

"i do not!"

even if her mirror told her otherwise.

the most painful thing about the divorce was watching her father leave.

he had gotten her a maroon luggage when she had accepted suma's offer. it was embezzled with a gold zipper, and a metal handle that gleamed against bright light. she took it with her on her first year, putting all her belongings snug inside. she used it to go back home, when her acl ripped in half and she could no longer play.

jimin had also watched it get taken away when her father packed in a rush, her mother crying on their bed begging him to stay, to love them instead of his mistress.

jimin knew if he did, she would have forgiven him.

staying was more important in the end.

a soft knock on the door rattled throughout jimin's empty dorm. she sat up, dressed in semi-decent clothes, breathable and easy to take off.

jimin reached for the door, opening it.

"sunbae."

nothing was gonna happen. she wasn't gonna cheat, especially not with yuna. jimin would never abuse her status, nor disregard her relationship like that.

but something burnt within her, something that resembled her father on a tuesday afternoon.

"yuna, hey." jimin could hear her voice echoing back in her ears, and she wasn't so sure why it sounded so... ravenous. "i left the notes on my desk. you can just grab them."

yuna nodded, her eyes trailing jimin's figure as she stepped inside. the room buzzed with a dull hum as jimin closed the door behind her, yuna walking up to her senior's desk.

jimin walked next to the younger girl, capturing her perfect side profile and ingraining it in her brain.

"how tall are you?"

there was a light in her eyes, something that jimin used to see in hers. it gleamed brightly, reflecting all yuna's wants of perfection, of hope - all of which jimin knew would amount to nothing.

she wanted to be the first one to crush it, to ruin it.

"i'm 169cm." yuna grinned, standing up a little straighter to brag. "my mom said i'm still growing though, so i'm hoping to reach 170cm next sem."

she didn't care about the consequences, not right now. jimin just wanted to break the mirror.

"your mom said that?" it was adorable how yuna seemed so pure with every intention, and jimin couldn't help but wonder if there was something more sinister underneath. "you're cute."

jimin grabbed the binder of notes, her fingertips brushing against the younger girl's as she handed it over.

yuna's eyes glazed over as she froze, and jimin couldn't hear anything but her heartbeat.

just like before, on the phone with the baek's, all she felt was power - an adrenaline rush that overrode her senses. she couldn't feel the pain, nor the guilt.

all she felt was a high like she was midjump, where her eyes were above the net, looking down at everyone who looked down on her.

jimin leaned it, her lips gently on yuna's.

yuna pulled back abruptly, a tug of confusion worming through the lust she felt. "i thought you were with someone."

jimin should've felt guilty. she should've snapped out of it and apologized, ushering yuna out and immediately sending an apology to y/n about what transpired.

"does that bug you?" she whispered, feeling her breath bounce back off of yuna's lips.

she couldn't find it in herself to care anymore, not when it felt this good.

"...no."

jimin deserved to feel good once in a while.

their limbs tangled as yuna lay naked, asleep on top of jimin.

the volleyball player stared at the ceiling, her mind whirling with the guilt that seemed to multiply with each breath her junior took.

jimin closed her eyes, tears falling from the sides of her face.

it felt good to have control, to watch someone wither and plead, begging her to instill whatever she wanted onto them. she liked the way yuna was under her, both metaphorically and physically. it gave her a high that no one, not even y/n could provide.

it was like ruining herself, punishing herself for everything wrong with her life.

still, the guilt managed to burrow its way through.

she wondered if y/n would react the same way as her mother, or if she would go run back to wonyoung, tears in her eyes as she cried and cried.

she couldn't let that happen,

besides, it wasn't actually cheating. jimin never once let yuna touch her. she would never let anyone but the girl she was with strip her power away from her.

even if she did, jimin would never think once about leaving y/n.

y/n was everything she wanted, in soul, body, and mind. she'd be stupid to ruin the trophy that she had worked so hard to win.

jimin wasn't her father. she wasn't going to leave. she was a good person, searching for good things in her life.

she shouldn't feel guilty. she had nothing to feel sorry for. jimin did nothing wrong. she couldn't have, otherwise, she was no better than her deadbeat father.

she wasn't her father. she couldn't be, she wouldn't let herself be.

jimin closed her eyes, drowning out the sound of yuna's breathing.

rage had consumed yoo jimin, and there was no turning back.

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taglist (CLOSED)!!

@serenitygrace24 @moontealemonpie @writingficsblog @kittyeij @cutieseo @limbforalimb @ahnneyong @yumtooki @lcv3lies @sserajeans @jiwoneiric @babycubchae @trsrina @xyxlyn @misumiausworld @slowlyturninggay291 @awkwardtoafault @captivq @ddeonutz @noiacha @sserabey @d7dream @slowlyturninggay291 @lvwr @perfectsunlight @juhyunsthirdwife @uzumakioden @txtbrainrot @rosiehrs @yunjinhart @skisk1 @bzeus28 @deeznutzryu @jisooftme @danistolemyheart @li0ilthecxnt @eggomi @ddoxhan @zhivaxo @sweet-dhrafts @livelaughloveyujin @luveuly @marimo-anura @yunnybunnyy @ivy-aurora @wonyoluvr

[eoieopda]

menace (pjm) — pt. ii

“Be careful with that lip,” he warned in a thick voice dropped low, “Pout like that again, and I might bite it.”

Pairing: Park Jimin x Kim!Reader Type: 2/6 (Mini Series) ⇢ Previous Chapter | Masterlist Word Count: 6.5K Content: (General) Seokjin’s younger sister AU; fuck buddies that hate each other; reader is AFAB & queer; surprise cameo by my current dream girl. (SMUT | 18+) this part is written in sort of an omniscient POV; brat-tamer!Jimin & brat!Reader; oral sex (m); manhandling; spanking; slight degradation & spit kink; unprotected sex (p in v); safe word in place (unused). A/N: Absolutely re-worked a shit ton of this part after “Smoke Sprite” dropped because I needed this cameo to happen 😵‍💫 I'm gonna put the tags in the comments this time because Tumblr has been shitty about them lately, lol.

Immediately after Jimin left you in that green room, dangling off a ledge, you did your best to bury that blush on your cheeks in pressed powder. The lip balm he was wearing when he kissed your temple caused that powder to cling where you didn’t want it, and it left you with two options:

You could uproot the flawless base you’d created prior to his unwelcome arrival, spend time you didn’t have destroying evidence. Alternatively, you could pretend not to notice the faint lip print shining in a shade just slightly darker than the rest of your face. Even if it was more or less invisible to the naked eye, it was a flashing, neon sign to you.

And just like that, his unanticipated crumb of affection made sense. So, you grabbed a makeup wipe from the travel-sized package you brought with you and set back to work.

That motherfucker.

When you’d gathered yourself to the best of your ability, you glanced in the mirror. Still a bit flushed, still a bit shaky, but still deadly. Any other loner you'd run into wouldn’t stand a chance; and though your primary goal was paying off the orgasm debt Jimin had defaulted on, it didn’t hurt to consider how far up a wall it would drive him to watch you weigh your options.

You wouldn’t chalk it up to jealousy, the way Jimin reacted when he saw you convert strangers into acolytes. From where you were standing, that telltale clench of his jaw wasn’t precipitated by your habit of looking at anyone but him. More than anything, his problem likely had to do with the fact that it was you people were staring at — not him. The name of the game was desirability, after all; and Jimin seemed to really fucking hate it whenever you pulled ahead — collected more merit badges in the form of phone numbers.

Of course, he might not have hated it as much if you didn’t love rubbing his nose in it to the extent you did.

Upon walking out into the club’s private bar, the first face you caught sight of was that of your brother. Judging by the way he was sputtering, Seokjin was witnessing your weather-inappropriate outfit for the first time — and he was not handling it well. You rolled your eyes, refusing to give him and the burnt-red tips of his ears a second glance. If you did, he’d be launching himself over bar stools to force you into his winter coat.

Worse, knowing how reactionary he was when it came to you, it was safe to assume that he’d enucleate every wandering eye he found fixated on you. That wouldn’t bode well for the stranger seated at the center of the bar, whose whiskey-warm gaze in your direction was an invitation in and of itself.

Coincidence or kismet, it didn’t matter — the only open spot at the bar happened to be right next to her, whoever she was. She grabbed her clutch off the bar top in front of that unoccupied stool as soon as she saw you headed her way. Despite the distance, you could see the smirk working its way across her lips; and the nearly imperceptible dimple she’d unearthed in doing so.

Target acquired.

When you finally reached her, it was difficult to tell whether the slight tremble in your knees was due to the discomfort of your heels, or the sharp cut of her jaw jutting out beyond the razored edge of her hair. Pretending that it was neither, rather than both, you gestured to the open seat with a coquettish smile, “Saving this for someone?”

The stranger’s voice was deeper than you expected from someone as petite; it left your whole hopeless body vibrating.

“My Valentine,” she said with a dreamy sigh, and it sounded like a song. Mirroring the movement of your finger, she pointed nonchalantly to the stool, silently telling you to claim it. “Lucky for me, I think I found them.”

“Lucky for them,” you corrected, sliding into your seat and title simultaneously. Now with your elbow resting against the bar, you propped your chin up on the heel of your hand and narrowed your eyes thoughtfully. “If only they knew your name.”

The same finger that guided you to your spot raised to flag down the bartender. What else can it do? Killing two birds with one stone, she told the bartender which tab to put your drink on: “Hwang Soyoon —”

“Someak, please.”

“— but naekko works, too.”

It might’ve been the cheesiest line you’d ever heard, but goddamn, was it effective. You accepted your drink with a quick bow of your head, then even more quickly, you took a swig to calm the heat threatening to burn through your cheeks. Once the butterflies in your stomach were sufficiently drowned in alcohol, you set your glass back down on a coaster and picked up Soyoon’s hand in its place.

“You this smooth on the dance floor?” you asked as you tilted your head in the direction of your destination.

In lieu of a verbal response, she got to her feet and, with another smirk, she helped you to yours.

Two drinks and no small amount of shameless, wholly observable flirting later, you and your prize stumbled off the dance floor to reclaim your seats at the bar. Soyoon’s arm likely would’ve remained draped around your shoulders whether your heels hurt or not; but you had no qualms about playing it up, playing right into her hands.

Tragically, with you deposited safely on a bar stool, Soyoon’s hands slipped away — but not before her fingertips slid slowly down the length of your spine, leaving you to tingle hopelessly in her wake. Oh, for fuck’s sake, was it really that easy to get to you?

She ducked down and came in close so you could hear her over the music. “I’m headed for the restroom,” she said, “Don’t run away, yeah?”

Eyes wide and twinkling, you nodded obediently — albeit more enthusiastically than you wanted to let on — and you felt a small crack form in your nonchalant façade. Never were much good with a poker face, huh? Unable to cover it, the corners of your mouth automatically curved downward as she turned away. They didn’t stay there for long.

Several meters away, now unobstructed without Soyoon in front of you, stood Park Jimin. To put it mildly, he was incensed, angst radiating off of him like a smoke signal. His stony gaze pinned you where you sat; and those eyes narrowed further, flashing a shade darker when you raised both middle fingers. They were near to black when you used those neatly manicured fingertips to push the corners of your mouth into a shit-eating grin.

“Smile, fucker!” You mouthed.

Jimin, now positively glowering, held up his own middle fingers in response. This time, he didn’t imitate your smug antics. The look on his face was a bullet, hitting you hard in the chest and causing your body to clench on instinct, and your stomach to flip with anticipation. Oh, you were going to get it for this.

So, you figured, why not push that thorn a little further into his side?

Without stopping to think twice, you rose again to your feet. God, these fucking heels. You swallowed down the pain emanating from the balls of your feet and strutted up to him like it didn’t ache to do so. Unfortunately, none of the heads you turned in the process would suffice.

By the time you were halfway to his small, circular table, Jimin had already looked away. Drink held up to his lips, he sipped and stared coolly off into the crowd. Like you weren’t there, like you weren’t worthy of ongoing attention.

Liar.

He continued looking everywhere else when you slipped in beside him — when you flicked your hair over your shoulder and grazed his in the process — when you failed to conceal the pout beginning to form on your face.

This motherfucker.

Even as you glared up at him, Jimin ignored you. With a huff, you crossed your arms over your chest and shifted your weight from one leg to the other.

You played this game with him constantly but in reverse, allowing him to feel like he was invisible, like you couldn’t be bothered to register his presence. With that ego of his, you knew it stung — and you knew exactly how childish it was to hate the taste of your own medicine.

“You know, it’s rude to leer,” you breezed, “Worse, the optics are a bit… predatory, don’t you think? Weird, lone male shooting daggers at a couple of sapphics?”

He took another sip of his drink, set the glass down, and tilted his head to flutter his eyelashes at you. His tone was dripping in feigned innocence when he replied, “Would the optics be better if I left a pretty girl alone at a bar? What if I did it just to throw myself at someone else?”

You didn’t know why you felt the need to defend yourself, but you did; rushing headlong, right into the pitfall, “I didn’t leave anyone — she went to the restroom.”

Jimin smirked and nodded once over your shoulder, “Well, she’s back now.”

You quickly turned your head to see what he did: Soyoon rolling her eyes while you froze and Jimin waved at her with a frighteningly accurate imitation of friendliness. She was gone again in the blink of an eye, slipping off towards the door, before you could even dream of catching up to her.

Shit. Why were you like this?

“Poor baby,” he cooed with the world’s most patronizing frown. “Gonna pout some more?”

Already cutting your losses, you plastered on a saccharine smile, “Of course not.” Your fingertips whispered over his forearm as you leaned into his ear. With a voice that dripped dark and sweet like honey, you quoted him and watched his pupils blow, “I’m going to make you cry.”

Jimin grabbed his glass and tossed back the liquor that remained without flinching. Then, he leaned down, lips damn near touching your ear, and snapped, “Get your shit and meet me outside in ten minutes. If you’re late, you’re walking.”

You exhaled a laugh through your nose and raised an eyebrow, “Who said I wanted to leave with you?”

With how closely he was standing to you, Jimin had completely shielded you from the throng of people standing nearby. Cloaked in low light, his hand ducked under the hem of your dress so he could scrape his thumb nail over the spot he’d marked earlier with your own wetness.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he whispered darkly with eyes fixated on your mouth. He licked his lips, then emphasized each word: “Ten — minutes.”

Jimin disappeared and left you to stand there with a wildfire tearing through your insides. You waited until you knew he was gone to let go of the breath you’d unintentionally been holding, now a shaky gasp that died as soon as it hit the air.

It took you less than three minutes to race off to the green room and gather your coat, purse, and regrettably large makeup bag. Despite that fact, you made a point to stand a few meters from the club’s exit for what remained of your ten minutes. You stared down at your watch, still aflame, and watched the seconds tick by; smirking as you allowed one extra minute to slip away.

Eleven minutes after you’d parted ways, you slipped past Seokjin and out the back door to find Jimin leaning impatiently against his car with his arms crossed.

“Brave of you,” His tone was light, but his eyes were anything but. “You gonna be like this all night?”

You cocked your head to the side the way he’d done earlier. “I’m not sure what you mean, Park,” you said with your blinking eyes sweet enough to cause a cavity. “You gonna stand there, or are you gonna help me with these?”

He watched you raise your encumbered hands like your cosmetics were made of bricks, and let out a long-suffering groan. Jimin knew you were full of shit; you were the last person who ever needed — or wanted — his help. You were just an unmitigated pain in his ass, always. But he clearly had places to be and people to ruin, and your brattish behavior was once again interfering with well-laid plans.

When he crossed over to you, his footsteps kicked up a cloud of dirt that swirled in weak pirouettes around his ankles. In no time at all, he grabbed the bags you pretended to struggle with and carried them just as easily as you could’ve, if you deigned to lift a finger. He shot you a look that broadcasted: I’m only doing this to get your ass moving.

You giggled meanly as he dealt with your burden and sauntered off to the front seat of his SUV. It took a bit of effort to balance yourself on your fucking heels as you slid onto to leather, but you were immediately grateful to be off your feet again. Once you’d settled, you glanced down and realized how far the hem of your dress had shifted in the process.

In any other circumstance, you’d fix it, cover the dangerous expanse of your exposed, upper thigh. Now, though, you opted not to do a damn thing about it. Instead, you did what came naturally: you made it worse.

With a contented sigh, you kicked off your pumps and rested your feet on his dashboard, bare legs stretched out ahead until they crossed at the ankles. If your brother were here, he’d tell you that you were being rude; and in anyone else’s car, Seokjin would be right. Still, you knew it ate at Jimin whenever you did whatever improper thing you wanted.

You knew the way his cock twitched when he watched you not give a fuck; when you suckered him into doing menial tasks, like tucking your belongings into the backseat of his car. He’d never say so and you’d never ask, but there was no other explanation you could think of for why he gave in. Punctuating your thought, he slammed the back door and made his way to the driver’s seat.

Jimin slid into the spot next to you and immediately clocked the way the skirt of your dress had hitched up. He stared for a moment longer than he likely meant to, then his eyes trailed down your legs to find your bare feet resting on his dashboard.

“Were you raised by wolves?” He waved his hand at your legs with annoyance that only grew alongside your smirk. “Seriously, you’re a fucking animal.”

You let your head roll to your shoulder as you leaned over the center console. “Oh, you cut me, Park.” You teased and poked out your bottom lip out in a put-upon pout.

Adding injury to insult, you threw your hand up to your forehead in your best imitation of his usual theatrics — then, you let it drop. The back of your hand collided with his bicep as it fell; and it remained there long enough for him to reach out and grab it. His fingers encircled your wrist easily, doubling over and gripping hard.

“Be careful with that lip,” he warned in a thick voice dropped low, “Pout like that again, and I might bite it.”

You raised an eyebrow, silently daring him to try. To the contrary, Jimin let go of your wrist and pushed your hand off him so he could slide the key into the ignition. The engine sputtered without turning over, leaving you to wonder if it was going to start at all.

He scoffed, “See? Told you that if you weren’t here in ten minutes, you’d be walking.”

To both of your surprise, you exhaled a laugh — a genuine one, no less — at his little joke. It caught him off guard and caused him to chuckle, too, for just a moment before he stopped abruptly and muttered, “Shut up. I’m concentrating.”

“Like I’ve never heard you say that before.”

You rolled your eyes and then your neck to lean your head against the seat rest. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him shoot you an indignant look; but as usual, you ignored it. “Should I just leave then?”

When his exasperation briefly flickered over to confusion, you gestured out the window to a taxi parked nearby. If you ditched him now, you’d be home in five minutes instead of however long this was going to take.

“Patience,” Jimin growled as he wiggled the key and turned it again. “If you could — just once — stop bitching and wait —” The engine roared to life with one last turn of the key. “— you could wipe that miserable look off your face.”

You turned in your seat, genuinely offended, as he pulled out onto the street. “I look miserable?” You laughed hotly, “You look like a kicked puppy every time I see you.”

Jimin’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly enough to turn his knuckles white. “Did you ever think about the timing of that?” He fired back. “You think it’s a coincidence that I look like this whenever I’m confronted with that?”

He didn’t take his eyes off the road, but he did remove one hand to point it right at your face, which featured wild eyes and gritted teeth.

“I swear to God, it’s like you were designed in a lab somewhere for the sole purpose of sapping my will to live. How the fuck else does a person end up being this much of a nightmare?” Jimin was nearly shouting now. As his voice raised, so did your heart rate — so did your chest as you heaved forceful, angry breaths.

Though the heat of your seething bodies was starting to steam up the windows, you could still see the shadow of your tiny house approaching quickly from the middle distance. Throwing your arm out, you pointed to the driveway he was about to rocket past and snarled, “Fucking brake!”

Jimin begrudgingly did as you said. Your bodies both lurched forwards. Your seat belt gripped you the same way his arm had earlier, but when you crashed backwards, your back was flush to your seat instead of his chest. Just as suddenly as he’s braked, he whipped his car into your driveway and came dangerously close to your garage door before throwing the gear shift to park.

“You absolute fucking menace!” You smacked his bicep again, harder now, “Are you trying to forfeit my security deposit? Why don’t you just open my wallet a burn every won you find?”

With a grunt, you threw off your seat belt and let the end of it smack against the plastic molding as it returned to its resting place. He did the same, in the same manner you had, but went ahead to criticize you for your roughness.

“I only give a shit about the dents you’re so dead-set on making in my car,” Jimin spat. Turning abruptly to you, his hand darted out, dipped under your left leg, and prompted you to pull your feet down from his dashboard. “Your rental means dick to me.”

You rolled your eyes for the hundredth time that night as you slipped out of your seat, grabbed your heels, and slammed his passenger door shut behind you. Shoving your clenched fist into your coat pocket, you gripped your keys and pulled them out as if you were wielding a knife. Rage still simmering, you stomped barefoot up to your doorstep just to fumble with the lock on your front door.

As you struggled, the key slipped from your fingers and clattered down against the concrete patch below. That pin dropped from the grenade and exploded through the quiet. As you stared down dejectedly at it, your tiny growl came out like a whine.

Before you could snatch it off the ground, Jimin swooped in. “Give it here, crybaby,” he said while shooting you an exasperated look. With ease, he jammed the key into the lock, turned it, and shoved the door open.

The inner doorknob smashed against the wall of your foyer, and you rounded on him immediately. Jimin raised one finger in your face, and it stopped your shout before it could fly out at him. He stared straight ahead of him, positively seething, “If you mention your security deposit again, I’ll lose my goddamn mind.”

Beyond fed up, you huffed once more and stomped off over the threshold. You didn’t give a shit if he followed you.

As you tore down the hallway to your bedroom, you didn’t bother switching on any of the lights you passed. You were too busy throwing down your shoes and wrestling out of your jacket; leaving a trail of outerwear behind you as you went. Entirely incapable of caring that you’d created an obstacle course for the boy mere steps away.

Jimin staggered along after you, dodging the various items of clothing you’d left scattered across the hardwood. His jacket and shoes clattered to the ground on top of yours, thudding heavy like his pulse in his ears. Twin tornados as usual, you left a path of total destruction in your wake — every single time.

When he finally reached your bedroom, Jimin was panting. You were sitting and seething on the edge of your bed, trying desperately — and failing — to reach the zipper on the back of your dress. True to form, he leaned against the wall and watched you with quiet amusement but offered no aid.

Truthfully, he liked the idea of you wearing that stupid little number while he fucked you; he’d been marinating in that little fantasy all night. Unlike every other person in that club, Jimin didn’t have to imagine the curve of your ass underneath that red satin. He didn’t have to dream about kissing at your thighs the way the edge of that fabric did when you danced, or sunk down onto a bar stool and crossed one leg over the other.

No, Jimin had no quarrel with that dress — he felt equal to it, rather than robbed by it. He’d been everywhere it had and then some, a million times or more.

As he watched your frustration build, he wondered if you’d give up soon. His dick was swelling uncomfortably against his chinos, and he was beginning to lose his already limited patience. So, apparently, were you. Reaching behind your back, you gripped the sides of your dress in both fists and pulled — hard. You gasped as if it’d hurt you, but Jimin knew it would take much more than that.

There was the unmistakable sound of plastic breaking, and then the familiar look of triumph on your face as you stood. Your dress slipped off you like water and dropped dead in a pool of red at your feet. The mangled zipper was somehow still attached, but its teeth had been pried open. Jimin tried not to look impressed — your ever-present ego didn’t need to be bolstered.

You stepped out of the halo around your ankles and kicked it carelessly aside, vowing silently to replace the zipper tomorrow. You lifted your head, breathing hard, and locked eyes with Jimin. The sight of him standing there, doing fuck all, forced an indignant groan out of your parted lips.

“Why —” You hissed, “Are you still dressed?”

Jimin shrugged noncommittally, knowing full well it would enrage you. “Figured you had a knack for zippers,” He murmured innocently, “Was thinking you could handle mine.”

He was goading you, and you knew it, and you still took the bait. He wanted your animalistic hands clawing desperately at him, and to an extent, he’d get them. But he should have been more careful with what he wished for because he wasn’t ready for you.

You closed the distance between you and pushed the center of his chest — not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough for the unexpected force to knock his head back against the wall. You were on one tonight, and for once, he didn’t bite back at you. The look in his eyes admitted that he enjoyed this side of you; that he wanted to see what came of it.

You wasted no time dropping to your knees in front of him and flicking open his belt buckle. Once you had proper access, nimble fingers undid the top button of his slacks, exposing his zipper. You were half-tempted to rip it the way you’d ripped your own — to teach him a lesson — but you didn’t. You inhaled slowly, and exhaled more so.

As sluggishly as you could, you tugged the zipper down. Your knuckle brushed against the side of his cock as it pressed eagerly against the fabric of his trousers and underlying boxer briefs; it twitched at the brief contact. Even more slowly, you slid your fingers through belt loops on either side of his hips and tugged. With the pressure of his pants alleviated, you heard him sigh softly overhead.

It was so stupidly easy to get him hard like this. And on the off chance it wasn’t this easy for everyone, you were an expert at making him like this. You leaned towards the tip, and as you did, you looked up at him from under your lashes. His cock jerked in response, begging for attention you were still refusing to pay it.

You had him, hook, line, and sinker.

Without breaking eye contact, you let your tongue slide out from between your lips. As chastely as a thing like it could be done, you ran it over the tip of his clothed cock, fabric already dampened by pre-cum before your saliva could stain it.

“Fucking touch it already,” Jimin snarled from above you.

You smirked, bumping your chin against the side of him but childishly refusing to put your mouth back on him.

“You begging, Park? Is that what that was?” You pressed up higher on your knees so that his length rested against the center of your throat. If your hypothesis panned out, the vibration of your voice alone might kill him. “If you’re going to beg, you should use your manners.”

He groaned exactly as you predicted he would, letting his eyes screw shut — half blissed, half vexed. With them still closed, his hand reached out and carded gently through the hair at the crown of your head; uncharacteristically soft until he grabbed a handful. The sting at your scalp caused your eyes to water, and your head to tilt back.

Now with half-lidded eyes, Jimin watched the column of your exposed throat bob as he used his free hand to push down the waistband of his briefs — the last barrier between his cock and your mouth. He wanted you full of him if that’s what it took to finally shut you up.

Your index finger traced the vein running along the underside of his length, dragged out another involuntary twitch that burned him up inside. You then switched to your thumb as you went gliding back the way you’d come, and when you finally reached the base of him, your hand teased his balls. Left without words to hurl at you, all Jimin could do was swallow a groan and grip your soft strands tighter.

It was a drag-out fight to keep his eyes open, but he had to if he wanted to watch you kneel in front of him as if you were praying. So perfectly obscene; he’d die a thousand times before you finally took him in your mouth.

You spat in the palm of your hand — unexpectedly crude for a princess like you — and then you began working the length of his dick with alternating pressure. As your small, soft hand pumped him, your mouth surprised him. When you enveloped one of his balls with your mouth, he keened and allowed his eyes to flutter shut again.

As far as Jimin was concerned, there was one use for that bratty mouth, and this was it.

After too few moments massaging his balls with your mouth, you tragically pulled back. The interruption in contact caused him to crack his eyes open and peer desperately back down at you. Under a curtain of dark lashes, your gaze rose to meet his — and then, without warning, you spat directly on his cock. Involuntarily, Jimin’s mouth dropped open and stayed that way as he watched the trail of saliva connect your bottom lip to him.

Oh, fuck you.

Your tongue swirled expertly over his tip while your hand worked over the base of his cock. Try as you might, you’d never fit all of him in your mouth at once — at least, you were sure Jimin assumed so. You hallowed out your cheeks and bobbed your head along as you took more and more of him; earning shuddered moans as you did.

Every now and then, he’d pull at your hair and roll his hips forward, fuck himself a little further into your mouth. You’d feign a whimper as if he was pushing you to your limit, and you let him think so. The sick sound of you pretending to struggle was dragging him close to the edge, but Jimin had no idea what his undoing would truly be:

Smirking to yourself, you wrapped your hands around the back of his thighs to anchor yourself. Undoubtedly confused, you felt him tense in the moment before you pushed further, further, further. Blinking away tears, you noted the way his eyes sparked when his tip slid past your soft palate and touched the back of your throat. They screwed shut as soon you caught him staring and swallowed.

“Ohh, fuck!”

The words sputtered out of Jimin’s mouth the same way his cum shot down the back of your throat. Tensed fingers twisted in your hair as his hips jerked helplessly against the heat of your wide-open mouth. Unable to process any part of what you’d just done to him, he couldn’t seem to get any air in his lungs either — somehow, you’d broken his brain, and his body didn’t know what the fuck to do about it.

You pressed against the front of his thighs as you leaned away from him, eyes still locked. Then, you lifted the back of your hand to your mouth — twisted in some devilish grin — and wiped the spit that had dribbled down your chin.

You little fucking demon.

Jimin hated it when you finished him off during the first round; and you knew it. It infuriated him to no end when you spent him like that — right out of the gate — because he’d have to wait to retaliate. You were well aware of that fact, too. Goddamn menace.

As blissed out as he was with his cock shoved down your throat, he was bubbling over with exasperation in the aftermath. “What the fuck was that?” He panted.

Jimin had so many questions, but he wouldn’t ask you anything further. Who does that? Who planted that idea in your head? Who had you been practicing on, and why hadn’t it been him?

The impish glint in your eyes didn’t dissipate when you shrugged noncommittally — just as he’d done to you, mere minutes before you’d successfully scrambled his brains. Because there was nothing you loved more than weaponizing his own words against him, you sighed with a frown, “Was thinking you could handle me. Nobody busts that fast, though. D’you think you should see a specialist about that?”

Instant gratification came when his arms hooked under your arms and lifted you abruptly from your feet to your knees. So, maybe there was one thing you loved more than firing his bullshit back at him. You tried not to let the excitement show on your face when he spun you around, left you staring down at your bed while you dripped with anticipation.

“Shut your mouth,” Jimin demanded while he took your arms hostage behind you. Evidence of his returning arousal was pressed flush against the small of your back, stoking the fire building in your core. “And lay down on your stomach.”

For once, you did what he said without putting up a fight. Despite the scowl on your face, there was a hurricane inside you that left your mind dizzy, and your panties soaked. Falling into place atop your duvet, you stretched your arms up and under the coolness of your pillows with a sigh. The soft fabric against your cheek and naked chest nearly had you in a trance.

It was a hard slap on your ass that brought you back to the present moment; and ravenous hands tugging down your underwear that kept you there. Your pleasured cries filled every space between his words and his swift smacks, but they went ignored; dead and buried in the fibers of your bedding.

“Why is it —” His warm palm collided with your doughy flesh again and you whimpered, though you tried to swallow it. “— that you look your best — ” He kept his hand still to dull the sting, only to dig blunt fingertips into your ass cheek. “— with your face buried in your pillows?”

You turned to putty in his hands every time he played so roughly with your skin, left little keepsakes behind to remind you where he’d been. If you hadn’t encouraged him to mark you, you suspected he wouldn’t. To his credit, Jimin was much gentler before you stopped letting him be; and as time passed — to your surprise — turning you on seemed to factor heavily into his own arousal.

Not inclined to waste any more time, he leaned over your reddened, stinging backside and grabbed the hands you’d stowed away under your pillows. Though he took care not to ring out your shoulders, he nipped cruelly at one with his teeth as he encircled your wrists with his fingers and jerked them down behind your back. He held them in place with his left hand and brought his right hand expectantly to your mouth.

Jimin didn’t have to say a word for you to hear him, loud and clear. You spit into his hand and, within seconds and without speaking, he pulled away again. In your peripheral vision, you watched in a daze as he pumped his fist back and forth to spread your saliva down his length, rolling his wrist as he worked the tip, bottom lip clenched between his teeth.

Selfishly, albeit predictably, he was more fixated on himself than you – and it drove you mad. You knew better, but you still interjected: “If you’re not going to fuck me, can you get out of my house?”

“Really sealed your fate with that one,” Jimin laughed dryly before smacking his hand down on your ass. As he gripped, he spread your cheeks apart, though his knees on either side of your legs kept you from moving. “Remember to say boksunga when you can no longer handle the consequences of your own actions.”

With that brief reference to your safe word — the one neither of you had used since it was chosen several months ago — he lined himself up at your spit-slicked entrance. The feeling of his tip at your slit caused you to swallow hard; and knowing what was coming next made your stomach flip. Your lips parted in the anticipation of a gasp.

The pressure of him driving himself into you — slowly and conscientiously, but to the hilt, nonetheless — was all but blinding. You needed him to move for you to acclimate to his size, but he stayed torturously still, leaving your shocked walls struggling to adjust. With your legs pinned together the way they were, you felt every vein, every slight curve — but what you still didn’t feel was movement.

“Move, Park,” you hissed through gritted teeth. The stretch brought on by his girth threatened to split you clean in half, no matter how many times he’d entered you before. It was difficult to breathe apart from gasping.

He responded in your own words, mocking the tone you’d taken with him not ten minutes earlier. “Are you begging? If you’re going to beg, you should really use your manners.”

“P-Park, I swear to God —”

He leaned down to your ear and somehow — though you’d have thought it impossible — his cock buried deeper inside of you. One wrong move, and you could kiss your cervix goodbye. In every way that mattered, you were trapped.

“There’s gotta be a please rolling around in that space between your ears,” He teased in a low voice that broke you.

Your swallowed pride burned on its way down. “Please,” you begged, “Please move. I need you to move.”

Satisfied that he’d snuffed out the fight in you, Jimin acquiesced. As he pulled away from your ear, he rolled back — tantalizing but, as you quickly learned, a false front. He pushed back in just as deeply as the first time without ever pulling out completely. The curve of his cock ground against your g-spot; the hands gripping hard at your captured wrists did nothing to stabilize you as you shuddered.

“Is that all it takes to make you go quiet?” His laugh struck harder than his hips did when they snapped forward. “Shit — if that’s the case, then why do I ever stop fucking you?”

Every time his pelvis collided with the flesh of your ass, the sound of skin hitting skin echoed through the electrified air of your bedroom. It was all unholy, but still, you begged God that he’d never stop. He was wrong, though – you were anything but quiet.

To the contrary, you were on the brink of babbling as your cunt gushed around him. With each thrust into your wet heat, Jimin shook another useless thought loose; sent you out of your mind over him.

You’d devolved into a muttering fool by the time your orgasm crept up from the pit of your stomach. When it finally crashed over you, you sensed that it was compensating for the one you’d been denied earlier. Every sensation seemed doubled, and twice as hard to fight.

You screamed as you came — a sound Jimin had never heard from you before — and he was entirely unprepared for it. You came undone around him with a half-sob and forced his release in tandem with yours, cunt squeezing him so tightly that his vision started to blur.

And when the firefight was over, you were both silent. Fucked stupid, neither of you were capable of speech, let alone critical thought.

It was funny, you thought as you re-entered the Earth’s atmosphere, that the only peace you’d ever known with Jimin came immediately after you did.

[spoofymcgee]

sometimes, i stand in front of the mirror before getting in the shower and i just think 'god. this body is so beautiful.'

i haven't always thought so. there have been innumerable times where i looked and wondered whose face that could possibly be, because i was sure it wasn't mine.

my hair was too frizzy, sometimes, my shoulders too wide, my head too small. why did my stomach move like that, stick out above my waistband and ruin the line of my body.

there have been late nights where i would stare at the ceiling while i showered, desperate to be clean and just as desperate not to live inside this skin. dressing rooms of stores where the waistband wouldn't fit past my thighs. coats pulled on in a rush after a long summer of sitting in storage that no longer fit.

other times, where my favorite pair of jeans were suddenly too big, where shirts and dresses hung loose and strange.

i don't know if that will happen again. bodies change and we don't get to control how.

but for now.

i stand in front of the mirror.

the rolls on my back are the same ones my mother had. when we were very small and would ask about her body, she told us that she loved her body, because it had made us.

the crinkle of my eyes is mirrored in my brother and the way he laughs, high spirited and so very carefree with every emotion.

the way my chin textures and my eyes puff up when i cry is something i share with my sister, so i always know exactly how upset she is.

my stomach is soft and round. when i was smaller, and still, sometimes, when i get the chance, i curl up to my father on the sofa, leaning into his side while i read or play on my phone. his belly is big and soft and when i listen i can hear his heartbeat.

i have never had defined muscles. i can do thirty push ups in a row and take the groceries up one trip, but you cannot see it in the shape of my arms. not in my aunt's either, but when i was young i changed her contact name to 'nice hugs' because she gave the best ones.

my body is a patchwork quilt of the people i love, the people they loved, and every part of it has been loved and cared for and cherished before i had it. eyebrows and ears and fingers and rolls and folds and skin and fat and bone–there have been countless people who looked at these things and thought 'that's beautiful. this person i love is so, so beautiful.'

it is my body, but it has belonged to others before me and it is made up of so much love and care that it seeps out of my skin, like a tangible thing able to sink into the thoughts of too much and too little and not right and burst them apart from the inside out.

bodies come in all shapes and sizes. this is what i was told when i was young, whenever i asked. they are beautiful for that, but most of all they just exist. they can't be wrong. the truth is not wrong and it is not right–it simply exists.

they have been doing that since before anyone can remember. they will do that long after i am dead and gone. and along the way they will be loved, and i want to be the one doing some of the loving.

[piss-pumpkin]

Reflections (Hunter/Golden guard x reader)

Tw- Mild panic attack description (I kept it pretty vague don't worry) Also Lilith is still a villain in this, but like Hunter is in the middle of his redemption arc 

3.2k words

~a world on which one can see their soulmate in the mirror~

You were quite familiar with the mirror in your bathroom. Each morning, you saw the face of a rather cute guy, and this morning was no different. As you brushed your teeth, the red eyes of a boy you didn’t know stared back at you through the glass. Sighing, you indulged in what had become your routine as soon as you saw him. Putting your toothbrush down, you pushed up to sit on the counter, inches from the mirror. You checked every angle, examined every detail, and did your best to memorize every scar and every pore to ensure that if you ever saw him, you’d know.

You carefully traced where his biggest scar was on your own face. His hands were scarred too. You wondered what he could have done to get that, or the bags under his eyes… you traced the shape of those too.

                                                       …

There were no mirrors in the emperors castle. Belos made sure that nobody was distracted, nobody could look and wonder, and his little Golden guard wouldn’t have anyone to hope for.

But his logic was faulty. At night, when he was sure nobody would see, the castle halls devoid of any life, he carefully took off his Golden mask, and stared at the reflection. In the dim moonlight and gold tint of the metal, he saw them. His soulmate. That’s what comforted him whenever his uncle lashed out. His eyes fell of their face again, and he smiled softly. One day he’d meet them. Maybe he’d even get them to join the emperors coven, and work side by side with his soulmate. Things would be better then.

                                                     …

The Golden guard was to accompany Lilith on a quick mission to snatch her sister. Walking together, they always had an air of power and authority, the two highest ranking members of the emperors coven. The citizens of the boiling isles didn’t know how childish the two really were together.

“Just stay behind me, Golden brat,” Lilith whispered as they approached Eda’s market stand. She was walking fast, trying to keep the Golden guard out of her sight line.

“You know I can report you to my uncle for insubordination, right?” Hunter threatened. The lighthearted tone of his voice was meant to be menacing, and Lilith was not immune, despite her status.

She huffed, “let’s just get her and get on with it.” She slowed down her pace so that Hunter walked beside her. “There, over there,” Lilith pointed to the stand. The grey haired owl lady was trying to drum up some business… and she wasn’t alone. While Eda stood on the table yelling at passing witches, a younger witch manned the till, taking money from the poor souls the owl lady was scamming. Hunter squinted through the thin eye holes of his mask, they seemed vaguely familiar. He couldn’t place from where.

”Alright Golden guard, I’ll talk to her while you go behind… only attack if I can’t convince her, okay?” Lilith sighed, ever hopeful. Hunter nodded, and stalked behind the curtain, listening in on the conversation.

He had never assisted Lilith in the missions to recruit her sister, but he’d heard from Steve that it was always the same. They talked, Edalyn refused, and Lilith inevitably failed. It was happening again, and the Golden guard leaned on his staff as he waited, eavesdropping on the argument.

“Edalyn just come with me, we can cure your curse together,” Lilith sounded desperate.

“I’m doing just fine in my own, Lillie,” Edalyn huffed, “if this is all you came to say, then you can leave!”

Another voice spoke from the other side of the curtain, “You aren’t welcome here anyway, coven head.” They sounded cold and quiet.

”You tell her’ Y/n!”

Lilith grumbled. She sighed before speaking, “Then I have no choice but to take you by force, Edalyn.”

That was his signal. Hunter crept out from behind the stand and placed his staff, alight with magic, against the back of the owl lady. With a smirk in his voice, he chirped, “This should be relatively painless if you don’t move.”

Before the owl lady had time to react, her apparent partner in crime did. In a blink the Golden guard felt the ground shake behind him, and before he could look, he was struck behind the head by a whip of vines.

Hunter stumbled forward, and Edalyn lunged at Lilith, owl staff in hand. She swung the staff and released a blast of magic toward Lilith, “You know you can’t beat me, sister!”

Teleporting up to his feet, the Golden guard swung his staff swiftly, barely sparing a glance at his attacker. Though when they blocked with a wall of lush green foliage, Hunter had to look at them proper, to counter their movement. And look he did. As his eyes fell on the face of the wild witch, he stumbled. He didn’t teleport out of the way of their strike, instead letting their vines knock him off balance.

For a split second he thought he saw himself. But no. It wasn’t him, it was them. Them, who he’d seen before, who he felt he knew, in a strange way.

They moved quickly, kicking him to the ground and standing over him as they grew vines to trap him there. His reflection, standing over him. His soulmate. He felt himself blushing despite himself as he looked up at them. Hunter silently hoped Lilith was better at her job then he at his.

                                                         …

As luck would have it for Hunter, his hopes were correct, however unlucky for you.

The prison cell was dark. It was dark, and the air smelled like mold and moss despite how clean everything else was in the castle.  

You patted yourself down as you paced the cell, checking each pocket. No elixir, and Eda’s time was running out. Usually you had a bottle on you, for situation me like these. Today though, nothing. “Oh, Titan, Eda, I’m so sorry,” you said, stepping closer to her and sinking to the ground beside her. “I should have had something.”

”Oh Titan no, this isn’t your problem,” she put a hand on your shoulder, “and I’m sorry you have to deal with it so often.” She sprouted a few feathers from her neck.

You winced, and stretched an arm out toward her, “Eda, try not to move so much, you’ll make it worse.” You weren’t sure what you were reaching for.

”Chill out, Kid,” she reached to take you hand, but stopped when she heard. A creak, and a crack of light began to shine through the room, the basement door was open.

Neither of you could see, but you heard. Somebody was walking down with haste on the damp stairway to the cells. You silently looked to Eda, both of you formulating a plan of escape.

Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness long ago, and you saw the figure approaching clearly. The Golden guard. You once again looked to Eda, but his voice drew your attention.

It was shaky. And quiet. He seemed almost scared. “There’s… been a change of plans. You two are free to go.” His words echoed around the empty dungeon.

Once again, you looked to Eda, who seemed just as confused as you.

“What do you mean,” she asked. “My sisters been hunting me down for ages, and now that you finally got me, you’re letting me go?”

The Golden guard shrunk and clutched his staff. “Yes,” he said, reaching for his pocket. You could hear the keys jingling inside. He fumbled with them a moment before bringing them up to the lock.

Eda whispered beside you, and nudged you with her elbow, “This is weird, right?”

The Golden guard hesitated before he put in the key. Silently and subtly, you pointed at him. Eda’s eyes followed. The Golden guard had stopped, and stared at the lock. Or that’s what it looked like. The mask didn’t give away any emotion, or where his eyes were pointed.

A small sigh could be heard from inside his mask, and he rested his head a moment on the bars of the cell just above the lock.

Despite his… everything. Despite the grievances the Golden guard had caused you, you felt curious. Maybe even compassion. He seemed so… defeated. You moved to the edge of the cell where he stood, only a few inches and the bars separating your. “Golden guard… are you alright?” You asked quietly. He sighed again. The dim light reflected your soulmate in his mask.

“I’m… I’m alright. Thanks for asking,” he muttered. This is not what you expected from the Golden guard, after everything Eda told you.

“Uh, okay, then- I guess…” neither of you moved. You didn’t dare to. “C-can I ask why we’re being released?”

He shuddered. Eda hissed behind you, “How bout we don’t ask questions and just get out of here!” She had more feathers then last you looked.

The Golden guard shook his head, “No, no, it’s… there’s been a change of plans, that’s all.” He turned the key, and the cell door creaked open. The room was strangely silent. Very few witches were held in the castle, most inhabited cells in town. But Eda was special, and you were both placed in the belly of the beast, alone. The creaking echoed throughout the space.

Quickly, you turned back to help Eda, who was using most of her energy to keep the owl beast inside. You scooped her up and swung her arm over a shoulder, helping her walk out with haste as you followed behind the Golden guard. Eda’s hair tickled the side of your cheek as you moved to whisper to her, “Is this really the same Golden guard that we… feared?”

”I don’t know, but I don’t see anything good coming from asking him,” she shuddered a few feathers sprouting from her neck. “Let’s just… take this one. I’m not in the condition to fight our way out, Y/n…”

You glanced back to the Golden figure you were following. His cape flowed with his stride, and stopped with him as he halted in front of the dungeon door. Light crept through the underside of it, and you could hear the echo of a sigh under the boy’s mask.  

He was slow in his motion, unsteady even. You looked at Eda, finding her eyes on yours in similar expression. Silently and telepathically, you recognized the… sketchiness of the situation. He was too scared. It was practically radiating off him, his composure was wrong.

The door opened slowly, and as soon as it was, the Golden guard rushed through. As he entered the hallway, his head was on a swivel checking left and right for… anything. There must have been an understanding between the three of you, because you and Eda stayed in the shadows of the doorway until he gave a nod, a signal for you to follow.

He looked at the two of you as you hobbled out with Eda on your shoulder. His voice didn’t paint an optimistic portrait of your escape plan. “You can’t run like that, can you, Owl Lady?”

“That would not be a good idea, no,” she whispered.

He took a deep breath, and rolled his shoulders. “Okay… let’s just get moving.”

He took off walking at a brisk pace down the corridor, and you linked with the owl witch as quick as you could behind, hallway after hallway.

Then footsteps. The Golden guard didn’t hesitate, he stuck his arm out in front of you, signalling to stop. Neither you nor Eda moved, Titan, you barely breathed. Shallow, quiet breathes as voices grew louder with the coming footsteps. The Golden guard muttered under his breath, “Kikimora… we have to hide.”

Before you could think, he grabbed you by the free arm and teleported in a golden flash to a nearby door. Unlocked. Lucky. It was dark, and empty, and the Golden guard closed it quickly behind you.

He positioned himself directly next to the closed door, ready to jump anyone who might enter. With a silent movement of the neck, he gestured for you and Eda to stand beside him. Where you were easily protected.

The footsteps were just outside. Their walking shadows danced under the door, and you may have heard their words if your heart wasn’t pumping in your ears. It was as if time was frozen, and you were acutely aware of your spine for reason beyond your comprehension. In that moment you were fully aware of the mild back pain sitting in that cell had given you. The curvature of a spine was a strange thought too. You pressed your back against the wall to try and correct your posture. Your breathing grew shallower, barely any air making its way to your lungs. Spinal fluid is strange, how did spine have juice in them, how odd. Your back hurt, and the shadows underneath the door were blurry. In fact, once you looked up you realized most things were blurry, with black encroaching on the edges of your vision.

Eda’s voice was faint in your ear. She was beastly, and nearly too weak to talk. She pointed at the Golden guard.

“Y/n? Are you still with me?” His whispering sounded far away. “Y/n!” He hissed as he came back into focus. “Y/n, it’s okay, breath.” You breathed. Your head had grown heavy, and tilted on its axis slightly as you looked at his mask. Your vision was clearing as your eyes focused.

“I’m… okay,” you muttered. “Slight… panic attack, maybe.”

He nodded, and took your free hand while he watched and listened for the people passing. You thought about that instead of your spine, with your head rested on the wall for support.

”Okay, the coast is very much not clear, I don’t think we can leave that way,” the Golden guard said, pointing at the door. He looked at Eda, who had recoiled into you, more of her weight falling on your shoulder. “Titan, she can’t walk much further can she?”

Eda tried to say something, an effort she quickly gave up. You shook your head, “I don’t think so, no.”

He sighed, and ran his gloved fingers through his hair anxiously. “Okay, uh, new plan then. Can you guys… keep a secret, perhaps?

”Um..” his mask gave nothing of his expression away. “I.. I think so, yes.”

He let go of your hand, and started to pace in a small circle while he fidgeted. “Okay, well, we are close to my room, which has a… method of escape in it.” His fingers tried to itch at his hands as he thought. “Maybe he’ll hear us from here.”

The Golden guard rushed to the window, opening it and leaning half his body out. He lifted his mask to speak. Awkwardly, you turned away still holding Eda, avoiding looking at his face. It felt disrespectful. He whisper yelled something, aiming and enhancing his voice by cupping his hands around his lips. You couldn’t make out his words.

As he crawled back in the window, your back still turned, you had to ask. “Uh, Golden guard, why are you doing this for us?”

His lie didn’t last long in your mind, he knew it was weak. Emperor Belos hadn’t had a change of plans, it was just him. “Well…” You felt a hand on your shoulder, “I… have too.”

You maneuvered Eda around as you turned to face him. What met your eyes was… you’re face? No. No, not your face. His. His unmasked face, which was also, somehow, the face you saw in the mirror every morning. You’d grown to think of it as your own. Your hand moved by pure instinct to trace where his scar is on your own cheek as you looked at him, mouth agape.

”Y/n, uh, I’m sorry…” he muttered. Titan, for what? You wanted to ask, but you mind was swarmed with every emotion, frozen. The thing to break you from your trace was a bird. A small cardinal stopped rested on the windowsill.

The Golden guard looked over, his eyes alight with pride, “Palisman! You came!” He teleported over to pet the bird, and in his hand it turned to a staff. The golden guard whipped his head back to you and Eda, “You can fly down with him, get far away from the castle and get her some help.”

Still overwhelmed, you nodded. You moved with a start as quick as you could with Eda in her condition. He handed you the staff when you stopped in front of him. His eyes were a little different in person. When his face had your expression he looked a lot different.

“Golden guard… what’s your name?”

“Hunter,” he muttered, fist clenched at his side. He looked to the floor. “And… sorry again. For… all this.”

You found it in you to smile, “Thanks for this though,” you say, waving the staff slightly in your hand. “We… really appreciate it, Hunter.” You found yourself avoiding his gaze, looking instead to the wooden bird.

He was still looking down, avoiding your eyes as well, but you could see him blush. His ears gave it away. “Yeah… anytime, Y/n.”

You started to speak, but felt Eda shift on your shoulder. She needed elixir, badly. Lips pursed, you turned back to Hunter, “We have to go, like, now.” You paused before starting for the window. “I’m glad I met you… we’ll see each other again, yeah?” you smiled back at him before shifting the staff between your legs and putting Eda’s weight on it.

Hunter nodded slightly, then eagerly, meeting your eyes again. His face reddened further. “Yeah, I hope so…” he balled his fists at his sides and looked down again. “Also, uh…”

A scream could be heard down the hall. A faint cry for guards from a woman’s voice, Lillith’s, you presumed.

The Golden guard looked at the door, then back at you. He teleported closer to help hold the staff as Eda shifted her weight, the two of you nearly out the window. He looked frantically back at the door again. “Okay, you guys leave, also, Y/n, you’re really pretty and I love seeing your face every night, okay bye.”

He sputtered it his words just as you were pushing off the windowsill, giving you no time to react. You could feel the heat at your cheeks as you sped through the air, flying as fast as you could back to the owl house.

When Eda  inevitably recovered, you’d have to see him again. Maybe commit a crime or two, that would get his attention.

[beegomess]

Dark Paradise || Theodore Nott

Don't forget to watch the previous chapters

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated🫶🏼

08. Merry Christmas, Teddy This chapter has content for adults!

The water still flowed smoothly through Nott's body as he checked the conditions of his neck in the mirror. He followed Y/N's advice and the marks were really gone, luckily the makeup she wore had disguised it very well and her father didn't notice.

At Malfoy Mansion, everything seemed perfect, the table set and a beautifully decorated reception hall waiting for the moment when the guests would arrive. The large devoured tree had numerous gifts below it, the lights of the mansion were all lit, which made it less Gothic.

Y/N finished fixing her hair when her mother invades her room silently, smiling at the Y/N reflection on the dressing table.

- Should we go down already? - Y/N finished the makeup with a gloss that gave a slight shine to your lips.

- Oh, yes, in a little while. Do you know who confirmed his presence this year? - Narcisa approaches and puts her hands on the shoulders of Y/N, who is just waiting for the answer - The Berkshires. - The mother said slightly excited.

- But don't they usually spend these dates on a trip? What has changed this time?

- I have a guess. - Y/N turned to the woman behind him and noticed her suggestive and silly expression.

- Mom, please, you're assuming things that don't exist. - Y/N disdained and got up, on the way to the door. - I think we should go already, right?

- Well, let's see. - Narcisa just smiled and followed her daughter to the stairs.

As you go down, Y/N sees Pansy, Daphne, Blaise and Mattheo already gathered downstairs, near the stairs, greet each other and Y/N finds herself sweeping the place with their eyes looking for someone specific while friends simply talk.

- Come on, Y/N. They want to greet us. - Lúcios said, taking the girl out of her daydreams, but leaving her confused. Y/N just nodded and followed his father, joining his mother and Draco.

There were some guests who just nodded and made their way into the mansion, however, the Berkshire family seemed to make a point of stopping and talking to them.

Lorenzo, who came in the company of his parents and his younger sister, seemed enchanted by the image of the girl in front of him.

- Y/N, she is beautiful as always. - The boy had a smile and Y/N could not deny that he was slightly embarrassed by such a clear compliment in front of his family. That would only put more warms on her mother's head, that's what she thought.

- Thank you.

- Draco, how long have we not seen each other? - They both shook hands.

- You disappeared from the map for a long time. - Draco had a smile on his face, he seemed excited to see him again.

- Well, what matters is that I'm back.

Draco frowned in a slight confusion when he saw that Lorenzo stared at his sister throughout the conversation, looking away a few times. Y/N, in order not to be rude, just smile slightly whenever you directed your eyes to the boy.

The Nott family arrived, like the other guests, only in a slight nod, leaving to talk when the hosts were available. Theodore observed from afar the interaction of Y/N and a boy he assumed was Berkshire.

- Who is it? - Theo approached his friends and, without greeting, questioned.

- Good night to you too, Nott. Are you already jealous? - Mattheo could make Theodore angry very easily, especially when it was Y/N.

- That's Lorenzo Berkshire. He used to walk with you when you were kids, didn't he? - Daphne replied before Theodore gave the air of his bad mood.

- I don't remember him very well. - the boy responds dry and Pansy can't hold a light smile in reaction to his friend's slight jealousy.

- Don't worry, I think he intends to get closer. - Blaise provokes, drinking a sip of his cup and receives Parkinson's approval through a muffled giggle. Daphne, however, pokes her friend in retaliation.

When the two families finally dispersed, Draco gave his arm to his sister and took her further.

- What was that? - the blonde asks quietly, so that only she could hear it.

- Don't ask me, I know even less than you. - She turns to her brother with a more worried expression. - I have the feeling that our mother has a special participation in this. - Draco rolled his eyes in agreement, he knew that the parents could be very insightful when it came to planning this kind of thing.

Y/N to her eyes when she notices a well-known face of Hogwarts, one in which she didn't expect to see there. The person she stared at, perceives her and goes to her. Y/N pokes Draco who, promptly, turns around and looks at the girl.

- You couldn't settle just for Nott, could you? - Laila was beautiful, but that egg yellow dress definitely didn't favor her. She had a cynical smile on her lips while Y/N and Draco looked at her with a clear confusion for the girl's courage. - Of course not, you need everyone's attention.

- What are you doing here and who are you? - Draco questions and Y/N just keeps thinking about the situation.

- My family and I have always come! - She responds harshly to Draco, who just raises his eyebrows in surprise, a slight laugh at the way he left the girl red with anger.

- I had never noticed you here. - Y/N complete with a light laugh, completely ignoring what the previous provocation. - Well, I should get more involved in next year's guest list.

- Really. - The blonde disdains and walks away in the company of his sister. Laila murmured inaudible curses as the two walked away.

When they got closer to their friends, the provocations ceased. Y/N and Theodore look at each other and smile for a few brief moments. Merlin, he was beautiful that night, Y/N loved watching her expressions during the conversation, for a few seconds, she behaved like Lorenzo minutes ago. Theo's green eyes combined with her beautiful smile were perfect, it reminded her of last night, which made her look away from him immediately in guilt and shame.

The dream he had with him and what she turned soon after made his heart skyrocket quickly, the shameful feeling he knew was almost desperate.

- Was everything okay yesterday? - Y/N starts a parallel conversation with the group, Theodore, who was next to her, looked at her confused and then she concludes with a light smile. - With your father I say.

- Yes, thanks to you, actually. - He lingers on her face, recording every detail he captured. For a few seconds, they looked at each other like another day in the astronomy tower, they seemed to be completely oblivious to the rest of the world. - Thank you.

- I... I have a gift for you. - Y/N curls up slightly when leaving the trance you were in.

- For me? - Theodore looked at her with a weak smile, but she was, in fact, very confused. Why would she buy you gifts? They've never been close like that.

- Well, yes, don't you want to?

- Of course I want to, I was just a little surprised. - Y/N felt a hint of shame about it now, but it's already gone that far, I would have to hold on.

- Great, I'll give it to you before you go, I promise. - Y/N seemed satisfied and excited now, which made Theodore smile in response.

[...]

During dinner, Theodore watched more closely as Lorenzo looked at Y/N, which his mother made a point of putting next to her. From time to time, the boy approached her ear to say something inaudible to the rest. Y/N laughed sometimes, other times she just agreed. The fact is that Berkshire also perceived the sparks of when Y/N and Theodore met the looks. Implicitly and unconsciously, Theodore and Lorenzo made clear the threat one felt from the other at that dinner.

Later, when some guests were already saying goodbye, the group of Sonserinos gathered in the library of the mansion accompanied by Lorenzo. The boy was well received by everyone, Theodore may have been a little unsympathetic, but Enzo was already expecting it. Nott was bothered by the way the boy stared, shamelessly - his words - Y/N's legs when she sat down. The dress she wore was really a little in the middle of her thighs, but it was nothing revealing.

- Well, we should definitely spend the new year at one of these muggle parties. - Mattheo was excited for that, it was his new favorite topic.

- Although I don't like it very much, I'm in. - Draco gives more string, but Y/N brings him to reality.

- We still have to see a way to go, Draco. It's not that simple, you know. - The girl said, slightly serious, but concluded with a smile. - I think if our father knows that we are mixed with muggles like the Weasley's he dies of disgust. - Everyone laughs, and Y/N turns to Nott who was in an armchair near the tip of the sofa she was on, and asks low while everyone is distracted. - You're going, aren't you? - Theodore's eyes shine with the girl's interest and her hopeful little smile.

- I would never lose you running away from home. - He jokes and Y/N's face lights up with his confirmation.

- And you, Enzo, are you coming with us? - Draco asks and the boy directs his eyes directly to Y/N.

- Of course. - Y/N did not see this movement happen, because he planned other things with Daphne and Pansy on his left side, but it can be said that the silly little smile that Theodore had for Y/N caring about his presence quickly disappeared.

At a certain point in the conversation, Theodore fled discreetly to a balcony shared with other environments of the house and which he had access through the library. Y/N did not participate in the conversation and knew that Nott would probably smoke, and decided that it would be a great time to give him the gift. Lorenzo notices the movement and feels tempted to follow, but he knew it was not yet the time for this kind of reaction.

Y/N feels the coldest air of the end of winter hitting his uncovered skin and Theodore turns when he hears the noise of the heels approaching. The dim light of the place illuminated her and, if he were called, he would certainly think he was seeing an angel.

- I knew you would come to smoke. - She gets closer and stands by his side, she squeezes her arms in search of more warmth. - Was the conversation too boring for you?

- Do you want me to be honest? - Y/N laughs already understanding what he meant and is slightly distracted by his light laugh.

- All right, maybe I'll agree with you on that.

- You agree. - Nott says a little lower, but still smiling lightly before taking the cigarette to her lips again, which makes her legs sloll slightly, and maybe the champagne she drank during the night helped for that effect.

- Ah, your gift. Come on. - Y/N grabbed Theodore's hand, which shuddered him for a moment and pulled him to the end of the balcony, where he had a last glass door that led to his room. - I'll pick him up, just a second.

Theodore saw, outside, the white and transparent curtains swinging with the light breeze, the dressing table had perfumes and things thrown on top, and what caught her attention was the bed, with shatted sheets and a quilt, as if she had just got up and no longer touched the furniture. While Y/N was looking for Nott's gift, he went into a brief daydream of how he was jealous of objects such as sheets and duvets for having the girl's warm skin in direct contact. Y/N, on the other hand, felt slightly embarrassed that her bed was still messy, not because he would think it was bad, but because she knew what she had done there that morning.

- I found it. - She goes back outside and touches the door slightly. She delivers a small black package with a small red bow around it. - Don't open it now. You know you have to open only on Christmas morning. - She said smiling and Theodore laughed still with the cigarette between his lips, which served as gasoline for the girl's lascivious mind.

- Thank you, Y/N. - he says, keeping it in the inside pocket of the black suit he wore. - I really liked it.

- You don't even know what it is.

- But I know you have good taste. - Y/N smiled and agrees with a convinced "Truth" bass as they head to the parapet.

- Y/N. - Lorenzo calls, a few meters away, Y/N and Nott laughed, but Theodore closed his face immediately when he heard Berkshire's voice. - Sorry, I just wanted to say goodbye.

- See you later, Enzo. - He expected the girl to hug him or something, but she just waved from where she was with a smile on her face. Theodore is clearly happy about that. Lorenzo was patient, he was determined to approach her, he just smiles and withdraws.

[...]

Theodore had barely entered his room when he decided to tear the gift paper around a small rectangular box. When opening the box, he comes apart from a silver cigarette case with his initials discreetly engraved in the lower right corner. A piece of paper fell to the floor, he gathered it, opened it and threw himself on the huge bed while reading.

"I think this will be very useful for you, since the last time I smoked one of your cigarettes it was all crumpled.

As soon as I hit my eyes on it, I remembered you. I hope you like it!

Ps: I had your initials recorded so you don't miss it on any night.

Merry Christmas, Teddy. With affection,

Y/N."

Theodore smiled from ear to ear when he finished reading the little letter and realized the nickname.

Y/N also had fun writing her with the nickname she created in a somewhat intimate moment.

_________________________________

xoxo, bee✨🫶🏼

[solohux]

I love the headcanon of Alpha Kylo as a stay at home dad watching after the pups while Omega Hux is off doing important work stuff. It's unconventional in their society, but they're both happy.

Trains are a nightmare. Be home in 15, sweetheart. X

Kylo reads the text from his mate before setting his phone back down on the counter and turning the stove down, setting the pan of pasta to boil gently now that his omega is running late for dinner. There have been a lot of issues on the local rail network recently so it’s unsurprising that during the rush hour on this Thursday evening has put a delay on their Italian meal.

Luckily, the girls aren’t too bothered.

Four year old Ava sits at the dining table in the middle of the kitchen, a chunky crayon in her hand as she scribbles over a drawing of their cat, colouring it a shade of bright orange that would, no doubt, offend Millicent if she saw it. And 10 month old Isla is content in her father’s hold, gurling as she watches her sister colour in.

“Mama will be home soon, Ava,” Kylo says, wiping his free hand on his apron before adjusting his hold on Isla, supporting her head as he sits down astride the table’s bench. “Are you hungry?”

Ava shrugs, “Kinda. My ice cream is still here.” She rubs her little tummy, smiling at the memory of sitting on her father’s shoulders eating an ice cream whilst he kissed the head of her sleeping baby sister held in the papoose around his chest.   

Kylo mirrors his daughter’s smile, ruffling her messy red hair. It’s been a good day; the gloomy sky didn’t dampen their moods at all this morning as Kylo handed his packed lunch to Hux and kissed him goodbye before getting the girls ready to go to the park. The stares of the omega mothers don’t concern him anymore; at first, he despised how they looked down at him for being a stay-at-home alpha whilst his omega went to work and provided for their family. It isn’t tradition, but it also isn’t any of their business. With Isla watching from her place in the papoose on her father’s strong chest, Kylo helped Ava onto the swings and pushed her gently, smiling whenever the young pup squealed in excitement. After that, they had stopped by the supermarket for milk and bread before going for ice cream, all home in time for an afternoon nap. Perfect.

When Hux accidentally fell pregnant, it made sense for Kylo to give up work; Hux made a boatload more money than he did and Kylo hated his job. Hux didn’t want to give up his career and Kylo didn’t have one to give up. And every day, he smiles knowing that they made the right decision for their family.

In his arms, Isla wriggles and fusses, but Kylo is quick to hush her and rock her to sleep.

Minutes later, the front door opens and the alpha’s senses are overwhelmed by the familiar scent of his omega.

“I’m home. Kylo?”

“In the kitchen,” Kylo calls out, just as Ava yells ‘Mama!’ and leaps up to her feet.

“Hi, baby,” Hux says, waltzing into the kitchen in his navy blue suit and long, black coat. He sets his umbrella and briefcase down before taking his daughter into his arms, propping her on his hip. “How’s my girl?”

“We went to the park! Papa let me go on the big swings!”

Hux raises an eyebrow, “Did he, now?”

“I was gentle,” Kylo replies, standing up to steal a kiss from his omega. “She loved it.”

“I did, Mama! I loved it!”

“Well, you’re a big sister now, aren’t you? I suppose it’s okay that you and Papa went on the big swings.”

“How was your day?” Kylo asks, taking in the beautiful sight of his omega in his suit. He can guarantee that no lawyer in the world is as handsome as his mate; hells, Hux is the only omega lawyer in the world.

“It went well,” Hux says, kissing Ava before setting her back down on the floor so she can carry on with her colouring. He opens his arms to take hold of Isla, whose little eyes light up at the sight of her mother’s face. “Mr Snoke’s case is complicated but he’s being cooperative thus far. We’ll have to wait and see how things play out in court in a few weeks.”

“You’re incredible,” Kylo says, tummy fluttering with all kinds of emotions as he watches his fierce yet still-soft omega rock their pup to sleep.

“I know,” Hux says, smirking.

“Here,” Kylo says, taking the baby back and placing her down in her bassinet. “Dinner is almost ready. Italian. Your slippers are at the bottom of the stairs and I’ve laid out your sweats on the bed for you to get changed.”

“My alpha,” Hux sighs, throwing his arms around Kylo’s neck. “You take good care of me, don’t you?”

“You deserve it, Armitage. You and the girls, you’re my everything.”

Hux steals a kiss, “And you’re mine.”

Although he’s never said it, Kylo knows just how grateful Hux is for raising their pups whilst he builds his career. For Kylo, it’s an alpha’s honour.

[reki-of-the-valley]

Through the Seasons

Read it here on ao3!

Spring | Summer | Autumn

2 - SUMMER

Reki takes a deep breath as he stares at himself in the mirror. It’s today. Today is the day he’s dreamed of his entire life, as cheesy as that sounds. It’s cheesy, but, despite denying it for so, so long, it’s nothing but the truth. Today really is the day he’s been waiting for since he was a little kid. Today is the day; his moment is only minutes away. New adventures are merely minutes away, long minutes that pass in a flash. A new chapter of his life begins as soon as he steps through the door.

“You’re gonna be late if you keep staring at yourself in the mirror like that.”

Reki whips around to face his little sister and her never-changing annoyed look. Her eyes narrow onto him as she crosses her arms over her chest and raises an eyebrow. And he knows he looks like a deer in headlights, but he can’t help the distressed look. He can’t help the pounding of his heart or the buzzing in his ears. He can’t help the stress that’s weighing down in the pit of his stomach. No matter how hard he tries, Reki is incapable of wiping away the visible panic on his face.

“I have to look perfect!”

Koyomi sighs as she pushes herself off the wall and makes her way to her brother. A smile creeps itself onto the corners of her mouth as she reaches out for him, fingers surprisingly gentle against his neck as she fixes his red bowtie.

“Breathe, Reki.” Reki takes a deep breath which has Koyomi smiling even more. “You know, you could walk down the aisle in your underwear and Langa would still think you’re the most perfect, most good-looking bastard in the world.”

Reki lightly shoves his sister, who lets out a snort as she stumbles back. Still, her smile eases Reki’s nerves a little, leaving him with a matching expression. She’s right, of course she is, and Reki knows it, but still, he can’t help but be in shambles over this. This is his wedding with Langa. Dreamy Langa. Perfect Langa. His best friend first. The love of his life, for crying out loud! Reki’s actually marrying the guy! Reki is marrying Langa, and everything starts in only a few minutes! Reki has minutes before everything turns on its head and changes. Everything is changing!

“Reki!” Koyomi gives a tug on his bowtie, the shock of the jolt just enough to pull him from his spiraling thoughts. “I said: breathe. You’re gonna give yourself a panic attack at this rate, and it is not the time for that.”

“I’m fine!”

Amber eyes narrow onto Reki, and he feels himself shrink under the intensity of the gaze. While she may be smaller than him, he knows she can very well take him in a fight, and she is not above hitting him on his wedding day. Call it sibling love, if you will. But Koyomi is the definition of compact strength, and Reki doesn’t want today to be the day he learns what she’s capable of while in a dress and heels. If there’s one thing he’s learned growing up, it’s that for some weird twisted reason, the more impractical the outfit, the more Koyomi is capable of kicking ass.

“What have we been telling you for basically the entirety of your existence? About the whole ‘I’m fine’ thing?”

“That whenever I say that I’m fine, I’m actually not fine?”

“Exactly. So just—” Koyomi takes a step back, assessing her work— “take a deep breath and remind yourself that soon enough, you’ll get to see Langa. You’ll get to be all stupidly smiley and all your worries – useless worries at that! – will simply vanish. And just so you know, he’s also nervous as hell.”

“You saw him?”

Reki feels his head spin once more. This is getting more and more real as the minutes go by. What had once been nothing but a fantasy, something his 17-year-old self used to think about in bed instead of sleeping, is now his reality. To think that this had once been but a silly fantasy, a dumb princess story that was totally impossible. But as always, the universe has a way of turning the impossible into a reality, and here stands Reki, Reki who is so terribly excited and nervous at the idea of finally getting to tie the knot with his forever. He’s marrying Langa. He’s marrying his best friend. He’s finally going to be able to vow infinity to Langa, for real this time. And of course, the stress he’s been trying so hard to brush away these past few months crashes against his fickle brain, reminding him of all the ways a perfect fantasy can be burned to the ground. But also, for some strange reason, the idea of Langa also being stressed, it calms him ever so slightly.

“You should’ve seen his mom; the poor woman was trying to calm him as he kept digging through his stuff. I didn’t catch everything she was saying to him since they were doing that thing where they flip between English and Japanese, but I can assure you that he wants this to be as perfect as you do. He wants it to be perfect for you, Reki.” Koyomi’s hands are warm against Reki’s cheeks. And it’s calming, the way she holds him. It’s the same calming touch their mother has. “Your husband-to-be is also going crazy, terrified that he’s somehow not perfect enough for you.” And her smile, it has to be one of the brightest ones Reki’s ever seen. “You two dimwits are literally soulmates! You’re both idiots that need to be reminded that you’re already perfect for each other. You’re so perfect for each other that I might actually vomit from how cute you are. You’ve been perfect since the very beginning, and a wedding isn’t going to change that. So just… It’s just gonna be perfect!” Koyomi’s amber eyes shine as she squishes her brother’s cheeks, pulling a squeak out of him. “Reki! Reki, you’re getting married! You’re getting married to Langa, and he’s gonna be your husband for real! You’re actually getting married and you’re gonna have a husband!”

Reki takes a shaky breath that turns to a giggle as Koyomi practically chants the word husband over and over again. It’s like they’re little kids again, playing make-believe in the yard together. It’s like they’re children all over again, but they aren’t. They’re both fully grown adults, both with lives that are finally taking off. They’re both set for life, Koyomi graduating from university real soon and starting a job she’s been dreaming of for years, and Reki with his ever-growing brand name and a husband only minutes away. They feel like little kids as they jump and dance around the room, but they’re so much more now that they’re grown. This is so much more exciting because they’re grown.

It’s nice having Koyomi in his arms. When was the last time they had hugged? Forever ago, probably. It’s been so long since they’ve been this close; life got in the way and they forgot what it feels like to be in the same room, spending time with one another. It’s been forever since the last time it was just the two of them, even longer since the last time they didn’t bicker. Today, right now, it’s a nice reminder of how things can be. It’s nice knowing that deep down, under that annoyed exterior, Koyomi really is just Reki’s caring little sister that gets just as excited as him with things like this. She’s still his Komi, his little sister that will dance around the room. She’s still his Komi, his favorite hypewoman.

“And then there’s gonna be music and everyone is gonna enjoy themselves and mom is—”

“Where’s mom?” Reki feels himself suddenly tense, all the worst-case scenarios flooding in. “She’s not bailing on me, is she? She promised she’d walk with me, and I don’t think I can do it without her.”

Koyomi scoffs as she gives Reki one last squeeze before wiggling out of his embrace. “As if she would miss the first wedding of the family.” Warmth and serenity fills Reki at the sight of the sunshine shimmering in his sister’s amber eyes. “Mom would literally fight a zombie apocalypse to be here if she had to.”

“You…” Reki sighs, light laughter on his lips, as he pokes the girl’s cheek. “You’re probably right. But really? A zombie apocalypse?”

“What?”

“You’ve been spending way too much time with Miya.”

A smile eases its way onto Reki’s lips as Koyomi scoffs again, arms crossed over her chest. He isn’t sure if that’s a blush that’s starting to blossom under her skin or if it’s the makeup that’s now really popping under the burning summer sun, but regardless, she doesn’t seem too interested in addressing his accusation. She seems far keener on getting his last-minute touches down, one last straightening of his bowtie, a tug on his vest, and a quick and futile attempt at taming his tangles.

“There. If Langa wasn’t already so disgustingly madly in love with you – which he is, don’t try to convince me otherwise – he would fall head-over-heels in love with you right here and now.” Her eyes lock with his, a sudden look of seriousness overshadowing the glee that shimmered just moments ago. “You look good, Reki. Amazing even.” A grin illuminates the girl’s face. “My brother is the hottest groom, and Langa is one lucky man to spend forever with you.”

“Your boyfriend dared you to say that, didn’t he?”

“Oh my god, Miya’s not my boyfriend!”

“Who said anything about Miya?”

Koyomi inhales sharply before shoving Reki aside. Her heels click against the hardwood floor as she fetches the purse she had tossed onto the bed a little earlier. This time, there’s no mistaking the blush that takes over her face, embarrassment now impossible to conceal as Reki laughs. She doesn’t look very happy, but also, he knows he’s safe for the day. She wouldn’t hurt him on his wedding day, right? No, she’s not that mean. Hopefully.

“Mom’s gonna be here in like two minutes, so have fun being alone during those two long, insufferable minutes.” She grumbles something under her breath, something that weirdly sounds like needing a drink, which pulls yet another string of giggles from Reki. “I come here in peace, trying to calm you and help you get ready, and you have the audacity to blatantly attack me. The absolute disrespect!”

“I love you, Komi.”

Seeing her turn around, a slight smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, Reki can’t help the tears that start to well up at the corner of his eyes. Sure, it’s probably just because he’s an emotional mess right now, but it’s nice seeing Koyomi smile so unguardedly. It’s nice seeing her without some façade. It’s nice just seeing her, his little sister, the girl he grew up with. And when she says it back, returning to his arms and hugging him like when they were kids and needed a safe space, he melts. Reki melts, silent tears streaming down his cheeks as he hugs his little sister back.

“I love you too, Reki. And today’s gonna be perfect, just how you dreamed it would be. And,” Koyomi tightens her embrace, “I mean it when I say Langa’s super lucky to be getting married to you. No one’s better than my big brother.”

“My babies are actually getting along!”

Masae’s face glows with pride as Reki and Koyomi slowly step away from each other. Her hands are clasped over her heart, and Reki swears he sees tears forming at the corner of his mother’s eyes. He knows she’s proud of him, of Koyomi, of all her children, but seeing her like this, seeing that fond expression decorate her face, Reki can’t help but rush to his mother’s arms, melting into her. And as she wraps her arms around him, everything is right. There’s nothing quite like a mother’s embrace. There’s nothing like a mother’s love to make everything better, better than they already are.

Her hands are warm against Reki’s cheeks as she lifts his head from her shoulder. Her smile, it means everything to Reki. His mother means everything to him, and he hopes she never forgets it, not that he’ll ever let her.

“Are you ready, honey?”

Reki gives her a curt nod as he links his arms with hers. It’s now or never. It’s now and he knows it. It’s now as he turns to Koyomi, extending his hand to her as he grins from ear to ear.

“Let’s get this wedding started!”

[wednesday-woeful-addams]

Woeful Reckoning 3/5

Summary: The aftermath of Wednesday 'pranking' Vincent Thrope.

Masterlist

Ao3

Wednesday stared at Vincent Thorpe, taking in his every detail. He did not look the way she was used to seeing him while being worshiped by her brother. But that was to be expected. Here, there were no make-up or lighting techniques, not to mention she had put him under quite a bit of stress the past several weeks. It was bound to make a difference.

She had to admit she could see why so many would consider Vincent Thorpe handsome. He stood about as tall as his son. While Xavier had green eyes that pierced the soul, Vincent Thorpe's eyes took the same green bleeding into hazel, giving his eyes a bright look even when dulled from exhaustion. He had a long, symmetrical face, high cheekbones and a defined jawline. His long brown hair also mirrored his son's, and while his frame was the same, he obviously worked to put on some muscle.

However, one of the most noticeable things was the small bit of gleam in his eyes. As a writer and investigator, Wednesday trained herself to be very observant. Xavier would get a particular look whenever she did something that particularly impressed him. Part pride and part awe. Though she was not self-involved enough to think she was the only one receiving that look, she was certainly very familiar with it. Familiar enough to spot that Xavier had obviously picked up the expression from his father.

Now, why would Vincent Thorpe be looking at her like that? Could it be that her abilities had impressed him despite their use to torment him?

Only one way to find out, she supposed.

"You noticed I was here?" she asked.

"You knew I would," he said, "You are not delusional enough to believe that a beginner's hallucination, no matter how well developed, would get past someone with my training,"

That was true. Considering the man's state of mind, she had hoped to make it past two days but wasn't surprised when she didn't. Vincent Thorpe had three decades on her.

"Though I have to say, you are definitely much more experienced in the art of torture,"

There was that.

"I would like to know why?" said Vincent, eye roaming her face, "It was a lot of trouble that you went through. I'm sure you had some help, but still, an impressive amount of planning,"

The man wasn't stupid. What was the point here?

"You know," she told him.

Wednesday was watching the other psychic closely. She noticed the shift in expression. The purse of his lips and the skin around his eyes tightened. He was definitely affected.

Vincent squared his shoulders. "I have an idea," he said, "But I would like to hear it anyway,"

Wednesday raised her head. Here goes.

"It's Xavier," she told him, "Frankly, your treatment of your son is atrocious,"

Vincent pursed his lips but didn't say anything. Wednesday took it as her cue to continue on.

"I do not get along with my parents, especially my mother, all the time. However, I know if I call, they will answer. Xavier can't even rely on that,"

Wednesday had heard about some of the parents in Nevermore. The Sinclair Alpha's controlling nature, Gabriella's manipulations, distant and absent Vincent Thrope and even the emotionally unavailable Sherriff.

It had brought into focus how she had never had to wonder about her own parents' devotion to her. They might have been misguided at times, but she always had them in her corner.

She could never imagine reaching out to them and not having them reach back.

Not everybody had that luxury.

Vincent Thrope didn't appear to have anything not say, so Wednesday continued on.

"I did my research, you know. Your sister died shortly after she was born, and your parents died as well in that car crash a few years later. You spent the rest of your time in an outcast orphanage in terrible conditions. You didn't have anyone show up for you, so you think that it's fine not to show up for him, at least, that's how you justify it, right? You tuned out just fine. He'll be fine too,"

Wednesday was on momentum now, the world spilling like targeted poisonous shots.

"Except you're not fine, are you? Your child needs you, and you can't be bothered to look away from your work. What kind of parent that claims to love their child does that, hmm?"

Wednesday shrugged, "The only thing I can take away from that is that you don't love your son after all. He's just another little accessory for you, something nice for rich and famous Vincent Thorpe to indulge in when he's bored or has been kicked out of his office by his assistants,"

Vincent finally seemed to find his voice again.

"That's not-"

Wednesday completely spoke over him.

"Speaking of, how are those assistants, oh wait, friends of yours? Not around too much these days, are they?"

Vincent's composure seemed to break a little more as he flinched. He stayed quiet, but Wednesday could feel her own energy slipping away. She would have to make the next few minutes count. She didn't think Vincent would want her anchored here. It was a miracle he hadn't sent her away already.

"He's going to be brilliant one day. No, he is already brilliant. And he'll only get better," Wednesday told him, her voice becoming softer at the end. It seemed to have a more significant effect on the other psychic. Wednesday was very good at cracking people. And this man was cracking.

So, she kept going.

"He's going to do great things, and he's going to share them with the world. He will have people beside him, happy to support him and see him thrive. You are not going to be one of those people. He's going to stand beside other people and lift them up. You are not going to be one of those people. He will cherish and be cherished, and it will not involve you. He-"

"I think that's-" started Vincent. Wednesday did not let him interrupt.

"No!" she hissed. Vincent winced and flinched back.

"He will live a fulfilled life," she told him, her voice even again.

The edges of the space began to blur. Wednesday was running out of time.

"He will live a fulfilled life and be happy and supported..."

She used the last surge of power to create a crude illusion of the future. It was far from professional but would get the point across. Xavier winning awards, Xavier celebrating with friends, Xavier smiling and laughing and being joyous.

"...and you," she told him, shattering the scene, "You will be all alone,"

The last reserves of her power ran out, and she found herself back on the floor of her room, Thing pacing nervously. As soon as she got her bearings, she headed for the waste bin close to her and vomited out the contents of her stomach.

Thing gestured to her frantically. Wednesday grinned and wiped her mouth.

"Don't worry, Thing," she told him, "It was very much worth it,"

Thing rotated in what Wednesday had learned to read as exasperation.

She smiled again, "Hopefully, he likes my parting gift,"

xxx

Darius winced as a little bit of tea spilled on him from the jostled cup. He really should learn to put his beverages down before taking a seat himself. It was something Vincent always laughed at him for.

He sighed. Now he was thinking of his best friend again, or maybe former best friend? How much had he tangled himself to the man that something as simple as spilled tea became a reminder of him. 

As if answering, his headache flared up again, the entire reason he had gotten tea in the first place.

Darius winced and rubbed his temple. Stupid. Stupid. He had become too dependent on the other man and just a couple of weeks away were making him feel like shit. 

In frustration he dug his fingers into his forehead. Counting back from a hundred, he took a few deep breaths. There was no point in thinking about it too much, he would look for something else. He should have done it a long time ago, even when his and Vincent’s friendship was strong. It was stupid to rely on one-

Darius’ phone rang, cutting off his thoughts. Tea still in hand, he picked up the phone to take a look. It was an unfamiliar number but for some reason he felt compelled to answer it. 

“Hello?”

“Darius Mensah?” The voice was robotic and instantly had the man sitting straight, his heart speeding up.

“Yes, who is this?”

“You should check on your friend,” said the voice, turning off the phone as soon as the words were out.

Darius wasted no time on sprinting out of the door, keys in hand and headache forgotten. The spilled tea would probably leave stains on the carpet and couch but it was the furthest thing from man’s mind. 

He needed to get to his friend. He need to get to Vincent.

xxx

By the time Vincent realized that there was nothing moving under his skin, his nails were already covered in his own blood. 

Goddamn it, what had that girl sent him? He felt weak, too weak to move, too weak to speak, too weak to do anything really.

Through hazy eyes, Vincent tried to make a last effort to reach for his phone but he failed, slumping back on to the floor.

He couldn’t help but chuckle as he felt himself slipping into darkness. It probably didn’t matter. There wasn’t anyone to answer his calls anyway. 

And who’s fault is that Vincey?

xxx

Darius landed in his friend’s apartment in a flash of light. He had been entering the stairwell when he remembered that he could teleport. It took more power then he usually had and would use up all his reserves but it was better then driving to Vincent’s place. He could deal with the heavy limbs, lethargy and the potential crash if it meant he had a quicker path to his friend.

Once he got to Vincent's room, he was glad he had taken the option. The man was crumpled beside his bed, deathly pale, with deep scratches all over his arms. 

Knowing the other man very well, Darius hurried to the table in the corner and found his journal. As he expected, Vincent had been recording all his findings, up until the day.

“Son of a,” murmured Darius as he read though the recent entries, quickly taking out his phone.

“Hey, Jenna,” he said as soon as she picked up, “Get me the closest Other doctor we have. Fast,”

xxx

“You made sure he was discovered in time? Yes uncle Fester it’s-”

Wednesday rolled her eyes.

“No, Uncle Fester. I am not going soft but I really need- oh well. why couldn’t you have lead with that,”

There was some giggling on the other side. Very Uncle Fester-esque giggling.

“Goodbye, Uncle Fester,” she said exasperatedly, turning the phone off. She didn't like them at first, but they really were convenient.

“Well, Thing,” she told her severed companion, “That’s another project taken care of,”

Thing gestured.

“Of course, I remember I’m meeting Xavier,”

 Thing gestured again.

“Oh, shut up,”

xxx

Vincent's body felt like it was floating through some heavy fog. He was both cold and hot at the same time, aches spreading all over his limbs.

There were voices in his head.

You will be all alone.

He will thrive without you. 

You are all alone

And there was his son, getting far and far away from him.

No! No! He wanted to shout but it was no use.

There was only darkness

xxx

Darius sat at Vincent’s side, gently swiping the feverish man’s forehead.

A psychic attack. Someone had psychically attacked him. The doctor they had called over had explained that they could only wait out the effects. In the meantime they had left them a few things to ward off any more attacks. Darius hadn’t really paid attention to that part, allowing Jenna to take care of it.

Darius hadn’t left his side for the last two days making sure he was there for the few times the man had become lucid. Each time, he had asked about his son to which Darius had assured that Xavier was fine. It seemed that in the last few days before the attack, the father son duo had only been communicating through sparse texts that consisted of Xavier asking about the stalker and Vincent giving one word responses. It was easy enough to keep those up but Darius would eventually have to call the school to let the boy know what was going on.

He was not looking forward to it.

“Come on, Vince. Please come back to me,”

xxx

Wednesday slowly took apart her board, almost ritualistically. Thing and Enid had offered to help but she liked doing this part by herself. It calmed her.

Another project over, another goal achieved.

“Do you really think it worked?” Enid asked from her bed

Wednesday shrugged. “We shall see,”

Enid nodded at her roommate and went back to her magazine, known better then to prod. 

Wednesday went back to her task, imagining all the things she would do if it hadn't worked. 

xxx

Vincent wandered the foggy darkness. Occasionally, he would see a little bit of light, only for it to disappear again, leaving him cold and alone. 

Was this how his son felt?

As he walked and walked, he heard a familiar voice echoing around him.

Vincent. Vincent. Vincent.

He followed it to another spot of light. This time it didn’t disappear. 

xxx

Wednesday, Ajax and Bianca stood in front of the shed as Xavier brought out a canvas.

“It’s bigger than last time,” whispered Ajax

“Maybe he added more crows,” said Bianca, she turned to the girl beside her, “Hey, you know anything about it, Wednesday?”

Wednesday shrugged. Bianca rolled her eyes and turned away, thinking the girl was being her usual self. The girl in question would have really liked to be her usual self but unfortunately that was not the case. Ever since her call to Uncle Fester, she had been progressively feeling worse. She felt warmer than usual, there was a growing headache behind her eyes and she felt like losing her lunch even though she hadn’t felt well enough to even have lunch.

Shaking her head, Wednesday brought her focus back to where Xavier was now standing over the canvas. As the three of them watched, crow after crow started to come out of the painting. More than they had seen before.

“...eight, nine, ten!,” exclaimed Ajax, “He’s at ten!”

Wednesday smiled inwardly despite her headache. After the first fiasco, Xavier had set a goal of twelve crows doing a five minute routine. There were already ten crows and time wise…

“Three minutes and fifty-six seconds!” said Ajax, “You’re almost there, man,”

Wednesday mumbled her congratulations to Xavier making him frown a little but she knew he would ultimately shrug it off. She still didn’t like talking with him in front of people too much

When she got back to her dorm, she only had a few minutes to be glad that Enid wasn’t there before she was bending over a waste basket and throwing up.

With bated breath, she waited for Thing to scuttle out from somewhere but when it didn’t, she drew a breath of relief. Enid must have taken Thing with her, which meant that she had some time to clean everything up.

The last thing she needed was Thing reporting to her parents.

xxx

On the third day Darius's vigil was interrupted by a slight movement from the man on the bed. 

Darius looked down at the other man’s face. His eyes seemed to be fluttering a little. Grabbing his hand, Darius squeezed a little.

“Vincent, can you hear me?”

Vincent coughed. Darius got him water from a nearby jug, allowing him to sit up and take small sips.

“Vincent?” he asked again, letting the man lean back. “You with me?”

Vincent blinked and looked at him, only barely able to squeeze his friend’s hand back. Then slowly, his gaze moved to Darius’s hair.

“You changed it,” he whispered

“What?” said Darius, his other hand going to his head, “Oh, you mean my hair? Yeah, I wanted something different this time,”

Darius had kept his hair pretty consistent over the years with short locs that matched his natural color. But two days after the fiasco with Vincent, he had wanted something new. 

“I like it,” said Vicnent, “The red suits you,” 

Darius chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I did the break up thing,”

“We didn’t break up,” said Vincent, his voice considerably lower. 

“Kinda felt like it,” said Darius, chuckling to hide the pressure building in his throat. 

“Darius…”

Darius shook his head. 

This wasn’t about him. 

“It’s fine, how are you? Your notes said you realized who was doing this?” 

“I feel okay. Tired but okay,” he said, “I should call Xavier,”

“Yes, of course,” said Darius, deciding to skip the fact that his friend hadn’t answered his second question. This wasn’t about him. 

“I’ll grab your phone,”

This wasn’t about him.

xxx

Xavier was cleaning his shed, still high on his success with the crows earlier when he heard his phone blare with his father’s ringtone.

He scrambled to pick it up. He had barely been able to talk to his father since the call about the stalker and while the lack of contact was normal, the circumstances had had Xavier worried. 

“Hi,” he said into the receiver 

“Hey, Xavier,” his dad answered. His voice was a little rough but otherwise he sounded alright.

“Hey, how are you?” Xavier asked, “Is everything okay? What’s going on with your stalker?”

His dad laughed, his voice still sounded a little rough. Xavier wanted to ask again if his father really was okay but decided against it. He’d already asked the question once.

“I’m fine,” he said, “The stalker is taken care of. No need to worry about it any further. You can probably stop with any protective jewelry the principal gave you,”

“Right,” said Xavier, hesitating before asking his next question.

“Is there something else?” Vincent Thorpe asked

“Uh…yeah,” said Xavier, “I was wondering if this meant you would be able to come to the parent-teacher weekend. It’s next weekend,”

There was silence over the phone.

Xavier had his answer.

“Right,” he said softly, “Why do I even bother? You’re not coming are you?”

“Listen son…”

Xavier’s anger rose suddenly and viciously.

“Don’t,” he hissed, “Don’t ‘son’ me! Just don’t! I don’t know why I even bother. You just don’t care!”

“No Xavier, that’s not-”

Xavier hung up the phone. There was no point. He didn’t want to listen to his father’s excuses. He threw his phone, barely missing the canvas with the ten crows. He had the urge to throw the entire canvas out next but after a deep breath, he refrained.

His friends would be disappointed if he wasted all that effort. They were the ones who had supported him through all this. He wanted to make them proud.

Screw his dad.

xxx

“Fuck!” said Vincent as the phone turned off, “Dammit”

He guesses that’s what he got for being a consistently shitty father. Of course Xavier thought the worst.

“You don’t think you’ll be able to make it,” said Darius. Vincent could hear the hint of disapproval there and it made him cringe. God, could he disappoint any more people then he already had. 

“I don’t think I can travel like this,” he told Darius, “Psychic attacks take a lot out of you and this was especially brutal,” 

One would think that with the girl being inexperienced it would be easier to recover but that was not the case. The Addams’s bloodline was powerful and that power unleashed without the proper discipline could be deadly even when not meant to be. He was lucky Wednesday had been taught some responsibility. 

“I could probably move around a little bit but I don’t think I can travel by plane,” 

Wednesday and Xavier’s words were ringing in his head.

You just don’t care do you.

Your son needs you and you can’t be bothered.

You’re not coming are you?

 God he was a mess.

“Wednesday Addams is going to kill me,” he mumbled

Darius looked surprised, “Wednesday Addams? Wednesday Addams did this to you?”

“Yes,”

“Why?”

“Apparently she hates the way I treat me son,”

Darius gave him a blank stare and then snorted.

“Oh Yeah, Wednesday Addams is going to kill you,”

Vincent closed his eyes and groaned.

“You know,” said Darius, “You could just explain to Xavier what happened,” 

Vincent sighed and looked at his friend, “Do you really think he’ll believe me? Not to mention I’m not going to tell him over the phone that his almost-friend has been doing this,”

“Almost-friend?”

“Trust me. She’s an Addams. The description fits,”

“You really don’t think you’ll be able to travel,”  said Darius 

Vincent sighed and took stock of himself and morsefully shook his head. “I don’t think so Dar. I’ll be moving around pretty soon but air travel is just not a good idea. There’s no reason to disrupt an entire crew if I’m just gonna have a medical emergency midair,”

They both fell silent again. Darius gently squeezed Vincent’s hand even though he gave no reaction. Darius held on anyway.

xxx

“Hey Bestie, guess wha Ajax-whoa are you okay?”

Enid looked at her best friend with concern. The girl in question was sitting very still on her bed, looking way more ghostly than usual.

“I am fine,” she said, except it came out as barely a whisper. 

“You don’t look fine,” Enid said 

“I just need to lie down,” said Wednesday, stiffly settling down on the bed. While Enid was used to Wednesday moving very oddly, the other girl always had a certain grace to her movements. Right now that grace was entirely gone, leaving her a stiff and jerking mess.

“Wednesday…” said Endi, coming closer to her friend.

“Don’t,” insisted Wednesday, “And whatever you do, don’t tell Xavier

“Don’t tell…”

Oh. 

This must have had something to do with the whole board about Xavier’s dad. It made sense. Whatever Wednesday had been doing had looked pretty involved and power like that came with a price.

Well, Wednesday had told Enid not to tell Xavier. She hadn’t said anything about anyone else.

xxx

After helping, or well, forcing Vincent to eat some soup, Darius once again found himself sitting at his friend’s bedside. The man had gone silent and still again. If it hadn’t been for the hand in his, he would have thought the man was once again in dreamland. 

When Vincent finally started speaking, it came out fast and jumbled.

“She kept sending me nightmares, you know,” he said

“Nightmares?”

“Yes, nightmares!” He said, “He was being eaten by spiders, sometimes being pecked with crows. Once a tree swallowed him, Darius!. A tree! Where does that even come from?”

Darius didn’t need to ask who ‘he’ was. He just took his friends’ hand, once again feeling guilty for just leaving him.

Vincent sighed. “I need  to see him,”

“Maybe I can teleport you,” Darius blurted out without thinking.

Oh shit.

But he couldn’t take it back when that beautiful smile spread across Vincent’s face, the smile so many others had fallen in love with but only Darius got to see up close.

“Really?” he asked, “It wouldn’t be too much?” 

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.

“I haven’t used my magic in a while so it should be okay. I can recover there,”

Liar!

Darius ignored the warning going on in his head as Vincent threw his arms around him. 

“You're the best, Dar,”

He could do this if it made Vincent happy.

“And don’t you forget it.” He chuckled in response.

This wasn’t about him, after all.

xxx

Xavier frowned at his phone.

“Huh?”

“What is it?”

Xavier kept looking at his phone in disbelief.

“My dad said he’s coming to the school. Maybe tomorrow?”

Ajax frowned, “But the parent-teacher weekend is next weekend,”

“I know,” said Xavier, “It’s weird. Earlier he was telling me he might not be able to come at all,”

“But this is good, right?” said Ajax, “Hey, maybe it has something to do with that whole stalker thing,”

“Yeah,” Xavier mumbled, “Maybe,”

Bianca, who had been listening in, smiled. So Addams’ plan had worked after all. The girl would be happy to know.

xxx

In the early morning, Mother Addams came down to the hall to find the rest of the family in a deep discussion. 

“Oh Mother! Good! You are here,” said Gomez, jumping up from his chair. As always, Morticia followed him with much more subdued grace. 

“What is it my little nightmare?” Mother asked her son

“We got a message from Thing!” he exclaimed waving his hands around

 Mother looked at Morticia.

“It seems like Wednesday has gotten herself into a bit of a situation,” her daughter-in-law explained.

How very unsurprising.

“Heading to the school?” she asked them

They nodded.

“I will come with you,” she told them, “I have a feeling I know what this is about,”

They both raised their eyebrows at her but refrained from saying anything. They knew better.

Mother Addams sighed as she went to pack a few things she might need. Maybe she shouldn’t have given Wednesday the resources that she did. The witchling was not fully trained yet and did not always act responsibly with her knowledge

But then again, all witches had to learn eventually and Wednesday Addams was never going to learn the conventional way.

Hopefully the girl hadn’t damaged Vinnie too badly. 

xxx

Darius readied himself for the travel ahead. After packing a few things, and making sure they had someplace to stay, the last thing he did was open his button drawer. The false button gave away to show a locked box. Taking a pin out, he stabbed his finger and then used the blood to open the lock.

The vial was right where he had left it. 

Only for emergencies. That's what they had told him, both Vincent and the potion maker that had given it. The woman had purposefully only given him a little so he wouldn’t feel the urge to abuse it.

Vincent would not be happy if he knew what his friend was about to do. 

Or maybe he won’t care.

Darius banished the thought of him ming and downed the liquid before he could change his mind. The liquid burned as it went down and then slowly he felt a flare of energy sparking deep in his soul. In a few hours that spark would be a flare and he would have to make sure that was when they teleported. He would be in a world of pain once it wore off but hopefully Vincent would be too busy with his son to notice it. 

xxx

Mother, Gomez and Morticia Addam were shown the infirmary as soon as they entered the school. Apparently their girl ad gone into deep sleep and no one had been able to wake her yet.

“Oh, silly girl,” said Mother Addams, gazing at her young protege. Morticia sat at the bedside, gently stroking her daughter’s hair while Gomez discussed something with the principal.

“He got here a little bit ago. Once he realized you were here he insisted on speaking with you as soon as possible. If it’s alright with you, we can go to my office-”

Mother Addams interrupted, “You’re talking about Vincent Thorpe?”

The principal nodded quickly, “Yes, Madam,”

Mother smiled, “Well, you might as well send him down here,”

The principal seemed confused but did not argue. Smart creature.

A little bit later, Vincent Thorpe walked through the door. He looked paler then Mother even remmered him being and his eyes had a dull look to them. She could still feel the stench of magic on him.

It seemed Wednesday had done a number.

The man took in the girl figure sighed, “I wasn’t sure if I was hoping for this or not,”

Mother raised her eyebrows at him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I would never wish harm on one of yours but if she hale and healthy when I got here it would mean you helped her do all she did which would…well,”

He shrugged a little helplessly at the end but Mother understood. No matter what happened, thin ing that your former mentor had gone batshit crazy was not a good feeling. Though some would say she was already there. 

“I will not lie,” she told him, “I did give her some help, but some of it she took a little…far, further then I would have expected,”

“I expected as much,” he said, “But you must have suspected. Was I your little guinea pig to test your granddaughter’s obedience and responsibility?”

Mother smiled. Perceptive as always.

Mortica was the one who spoke up this time.

“Well Vincent, she’s not the only Addams that was a little upset with you,” she said, putting on her best beguiling smile, the one her Gomez had fallen for, “You should have called more often,”

The man chuckled softly, a tone of regret seeped through as he spoke.

“Yeah, I’m starting to understand that,”

“Have you seen him yet?” Gomez asked

“Not yet,” he said, “How is yours?”

“Fine,” Mother told him, “But if she doesn't wake up soon, it means she left some of her energy with you. We’ll need your help,”

Vincent smiled, “Of course,” 

“Tell us,” said Gomez, “What did she specifically-”

They were interrupted by someone roughly opening the door.

“Dad,”

Vinent startled and turned, “Xavier!”

The man turned to hug his son. The hug was returned but soon Xavier was looking around with wide eyes.

“What the hell is going on here?”

xxx

When Xavier heard his father was here, he had been ecstatic, only to find that he was in the infirmary.

That’s when the panic had set in.

Did something happen on the way here? Was it the stalker? He had said everything was fine but his father was notoriously good at keeping things from him.

He threw open the door as soon as he got to the infirmary, calling out for his father as soon as he stepped inside.

“Dad,”

“Xavier,” his dad-and thank god he was fine-came forward and hugged him. Xavier let out a breath and hugged back tightly. The past few weeks, he had been filled with so many different emotions. Anfer, frustration, worry, hope. Not that his dad was here, all he could feel was relief. He would probably be angry later, but that was future-Xavier’s problem.

It was only when pulled away that he noticed all the other people in the room.

“What the hell is going on here?”

His father made a sheepish face, “I was gonna come see you first but you had class and-”

He knew what it looked like when his father was stalling. And right now he was stalling.

“Is she okay?” he asked Morticia. Xavier would have stepped forward but there was a little old lady sitting pretty close to Wednesday and something told him he needed to stay away from her.

“She is fine,” said Morticia, “Just a little tired. She overexerted herself,”

Overexerted…

Xavier’s mind started to spin. The vague joke-like threats Wednesday had made, her new secret project, how Enid had insisted Wednesday be left alone yesterday.

He turned toward his dad, “Tell me, were there any bear traps involved in your little stalker situation?”

“Uhh…,” his father started, trailing off before saying much. His father never trailed off.

“It was Wednesday wasn’t it?” Xavier said, a bit of dread rising in his chest, “She was your stalker?”

The adults in the room helplessly looked at eachother.

“Oh my god,”

What the hell Wednesday?

[bewitchingbaker]

15. Does your muse have any birthmarks, stretch marks, freckles, or moles? Where are they?

A 16 year old Chris stares at his reflection in the hotel mirror.

Those soft brown hues look over his features for a moment. A large curly afro, no doubt still inspired by his favorite Philadelphia drummer. His eyes are huge, 'puppy dog' eyes as his aunt often called them. Usually giving everyone a clear indication of any emotion he felt at the moment. He's begun to fill out thanks to everyones favorite friend, puberty. Those once sticks he called arms have gained quite amount of mass, thanks to a combination of 5 squares a day and lifting everything in the bakery.

Andy often joked about him joining the team, though he knows Chris is way too invested in a potential career in arts.

But Chris doesn't exactly possess the abs that the older teen often flexed. Though his chest rivaled Andy's, his tummy was much more soft compared to the washboard muscles of the football team captain. His eyes wander to the small star shaped shaped mole that rests on those chubby cheeks of his.

The proof of his growing mass could be seen on the inner parts of his arm and on certain parts of his thighs. He can only sigh at his broad frame.

There's a hint of regret in his eyes, unsure of his decision to join his sister, Andy and Beth on a trip Oasis Waterpark. Why not? It's a weekend trip with people he considered close friends. He gets to be away from the hellish heat of Luna's kitchen.

But then he remembers he has to be shirtless to go to the pool. In front of Beth no less. He looks at the 2 xl Pearl Jam tee with a roll of his eyes. While a small gift from his close friend, he still can't shake that teenage jealousy of Eddie Vedder as Beth never misses an opportunity to sing his praises.

Then he hears a familiar series of three knocks against the door. Looks like he thought her up.

Chris quickly slips on his shirt to open the door to see the light of his teenage heart, Beth Riley. Much like him, her Janis Joplin tshirt is a 2 sizes too big though it maybe because it's a shirt that belonged to him and he left it at their place. Like an open book, she can sense something is wrong with her friend. One of the perks of being fluent in 'quiet kid' as Jess often puts it.

Her hand reaches out to his shoulder, inquiring whats wrong in that loveley voice of hers. Chris does that thing he always does when he can't find the words and rubs the back of his neck as if the right saying is there. His eyes wander to the phone in her other hand with an inquisitive tilt of his head. He follows her to her to his bed, taking a seat next to her.

Then he remembers her trip back home for the Monarch Festival. Once he looks over the videos of the various dancers, the baker notices a small radiant smile spread across her face.

'They're beautiful, ya know? They almost remind me of you. Ya both are big, huggable honestly. Very beautiful.'

Now here he is, 30 years old.

Much had changed over the years. He's grown to appreciate the small stretch marks that decorated those huge arms. An equally matching pair of hands squeeshed his cheeks with a small smile. Though he still works for a much more solid tummy, he loves its softness a little more. Plus, with the addition of a moon shaped piercing that hung from his belly button, he grew to appreciate his softness.

'You look like a hero, Killika but you're still lovely to hug.'

Her words upon seeing him after so many years still played like a lovely song in his head whenever he looked at his physique. Beth often said she could never find the right words for things and Chris would always disagree. If it's one thing Beth had, it was great timing. His mind would always wander to her kind and encouraging words throughout the years.

[ @brooklynislandgirl ]

[missmonsters2]

today I feel awful... idk my insecurities are taking over me and I just want to curl into a ball and cry. maybe it's my hormones maybe the fact that I weighted myself and found out I gained weight (I can't fit into my jeans 😭) and the fact that I saw my sister in a tight skin dress looking perfect while I'm in my pj's just destroyed my confidence. I need something angsty to read to make me forget about my sad, miserable lffe right now. would you be down in writing sth angsty with nat maybe? you don't have to though. it's fine either way. I really appreciate all of your work and I keep reading on repeat whenever I'm feeling down. makes me cheer up. thank you, van ❤️

It's like we're the same person because I also went to visit my sister recently and my sister has gotten her life together and is living her best hot girl bod while I...let's not go there.

I just want you to know that you're hot as fuck and a body is just a body that we can change with time and effort. We're lit rally in this together. This time next year, we will be rocking the body that makes up happy and we'll be healthy!!! 💘💘

But I will still give you nat angst...but with a happy ending bc I said you deserve a HEA!!

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The Withers of Springtime Bloom

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spring is a time of blooming and when things come back to life. You can't help but notice things that may be causing your relationship with Natasha to wither.

Warnings: self-esteem issues, insecurities about body, relationship with working out and food, seasonal depression. angst with HEA.

Count: 2.1k~

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You're not sure when things changed.

Things change so slowly after all.

Without you noticing, things change and change and change until one day, you do notice.

You notice that Natasha has become quieter, somber.

You notice the lack of date nights and affectionate touches.

You notice that you've let yourself go a little.

You're standing in front of the mirror, staring at your body with a frown. You've gained weight since dating Natasha, but relationship weight gain was normal, wasn't it?

But you remember how Natasha was just as fit as she was before she met you. Sure, she was a superhero, and you were a regular civilian; there was no reason for you to train long hours as Natasha did.

Still...

You turn to the side and peer at yourself in the mirror again.

You can't help but wonder...were you becoming less attractive to her?

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It had been the beginning of fall when you met Natasha. You loved the season of change and when things turned into warm colors before withering away for winter to come.

Natasha had come like a blessing, and in the winter, she was just warm as the colors of fall. Instead of withering away, she bloomed and invested that warmth in your relationship with her.

Despite always being an early riser to work out, weekends were the days she stayed in bed with you just a little longer. There had been so many breakfasts, lunch, and dinner dates. You found yourself moving things around or neglecting to work around her busy schedule.

Perhaps that was when things began to change. Eating out so often and forgoing working out to spend time with Natasha was what led to this.

Spring has arrived, and things are coming back to life. Yet somehow, your relationship with Natasha was withering away.

"Hey," you greet her as you come home, shopping bags in hand. You bought some more clothes when things felt like they didn't fit comfortably anymore. The experience had been upsetting for you, and you didn't end up buying too much, telling yourself you didn't want to spend too much when you were going to lose the weight.

Natasha was working in her office, peering down over reports, and barely acknowledged you other than with a hum.

"Long day?" You ask her as you put your things away and walk over to her.

"Yeah," Natasha sighed. "Trying to get these reports done since Maria needs them tomorrow."

That had been Natasha's excuse for spending long hours in her office every night for the last two weeks.

You place your hand on Natasha's shoulder with a reassuring squeeze, but she leans to the side as if to readjust herself, but still away from your touch.

The sting immediately comes, but you try to push it down, so it doesn't hurt as bad.

"Right," you say hoarsely, but Natasha stares on at the reports. "I'm just going to get ready for bed. It's been a long day and all. Let me know if you need anything."

Natasha gives you a nod as you leave the room. You feel awkward as you lie in the bed you share with her. You wonder if you're taking up too much space.

There's a pang of something as you try to curl yourself to be smaller and only distantly realizing you've skipped dinner before you fall asleep.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You fall back onto the mat, chest heaving and your lungs burning.

It's been a while since you've worked out, and now you're definitely paying for it with how unfit you are.

The gym is moderately empty with the hour it is. You hate going to a public gym because it always feels like someone is staring, but it's better for strangers to stare than working out at the Compound for people you know to stare at you.

The rational part of you knows that you should just talk to Natasha, but the emotional side of you whispers that you won't like what Natasha has to say, that she might even end it before you've had a chance to change yourself.

When weeks pass, and you weigh yourself again, you almost start crying because you've only lost a couple of pounds.

It's normal, you know it is. You're losing weight at a normal rate, but it's not enough. You know fast weight loss wouldn't make sense for your body but you also feel you don't have half a year to go back to your normal weight.

You sit on the bathroom floor for hours, debating what to do when you hear a quiet knock.

"Sweetheart, are you in there?" Natasha's muffled voice comes through.

You wipe at your eyes furiously as you stand up.

"Y-Yeah," you answer back. "I'm just in the tub soaking."

There's a moment of silence through the door before Natasha answers back, "Alright. Enjoy yourself. Did you want me to order anything specific for dinner?"

"No, it's okay," you tell her. "You order anything you want. I already ate on my way home." You think about the chicken salad you've been eating for the past two weeks and almost sigh.

Natasha answered that she just came back to see if you've eaten, but she actually had to head back to the Compound. You were Natasha shuffling around before leaving through the front door, and you let out the breath you were holding.

You actually take a long, hot shower before putting on sweats and a big hoodie.

The truth was, you were hungry. The chicken salad was okay on the way home, but it had been a couple of hours since.

You knew starving yourself wasn't the answer, so you went into the kitchen to see if you could find something healthy to hold you over until you could go to bed.

But you can't find anything in the fridge except for Natasha's leftovers from whatever she ordered the day before. You can't find anything except frozen pizzas and microwavable foods.

You check the calories on the back and let out a frustrated sigh. Checking your watch, you realize it's too late in the evening to go grocery shopping because, by the time you get there, stores will have closed.

You slump down on the floor, leaning against the cabinets as you let out a pathetic whimper while your eyes became hot with tears.

You miss Natasha. You want Natasha holding you and telling you it would be okay. But you couldn't have that until you were back to what you were when you met her.

The front door suddenly opens.

"Have you seen my—sweetheart?" Natasha started to call before she noticed you sitting on the floor. "What's wrong?"

You use your sleeve to wipe at your eyes as you sit up straight.

"Nothing," you sniffle before you start to stand. "I just stubbed my toe against the edge of the kitchen island. What were you looking for? USB? You left it next to the bedside."

Natasha stares at your back, hair still wet as she takes in your attire.

"It's a little hot to be wearing a hoodie and sweats, isn't it?" Natasha asks softly. "Doesn't seem like you turned on the aircon in here."

You keep walking, but Natasha starts to follow you.

"'m cold," you say quietly so she can't hear the tremble in your voice.

"Are you feeling sick?" Natasha asks with concern as you sit down on the couch, turning on the TV. You pull the blanket over you as if to make your point.

"No," you tell her because you don't want her to worry. "Just cold after a bath."

Natasha sets her things down before she takes a seat next to you. Even in the low lighting, she can see your eyes rimmed red and dampness of them.

You're refusing to look at her as you have your knees drawn up to your chest and stare stubbornly at the TV screen.

Then she hears it.

Your stomach grumbles.

"Are you hungry, sweetheart?" Natasha asks softly again. "We can just order food and stay in tonight."

Your cheeks grow hot. "Don't you have to be at the Compound?"

You don't mean to snap at her, but you can't help but feel embarrassed.

Natasha remains quiet for a moment, quickly thinking over the last few weeks before she feels guilt trickle in.

She doesn't remember the last time she ate with you—doesn't remember the last time she saw you eat.

"Sweetheart," she calls you gently again, and you bristle at the tone. "Is there something wrong?"

The fragile dam you've built to keep the weeks of compiling emotions at bay breaks, and you're hurtling down the stream over the waterfall.

"Are you not in love with me anymore?" You choke out as you begin to cry.

You can't even register to feel horrified at your breakdown because you just need to know.

"I know...I know my body has changed since we first met and I've gained weight but I really am trying to lose it. I just—I feel like you're avoiding me. At first, I thought things at work have been really stressful for you, and I wanted to give you space but you're gone all the time. You're gone even when you're here."

Natasha can barely understand anything you've said after hearing you say the first part. Her breath hitches painfully in the back of her throat, and she legitimately feels appalled at herself.

She starts to say something, but you keep going.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to make this about me because if you're going through something then I want to support and be there for you. But I can't help but feel like you're grossed out by me. I mean—I feel grossed out when I look at myself. I feel like I'm taking up so much space—"

Natasha cuts you off abruptly, pulling off the blanket as she pulls at you until you're in her lap.

"Nat—"

"You're not gross and this is not about the weight you have or have not gained. You hear me?" Natasha says forcefully as she holds you close to her, hand over your thigh to keep you against her.

"God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry if I've been making you feel like you're not attractive me," Natasha's eyes well up as your tears wet her shoulder. "You're literally still the most gorgeous person I've ever met and you're always going to be that to me."

Natasha's hand at your waist dips underneath your hoodie, her fingers trailing up your back as she sighs at your warmth. "I should've told you, but the springtime is just really hard for me. It's odd because it's a time for things to come back to life but some of the worst things have happened to me during the spring and things blooming makes me think about things that aren't coming back. I think it's also just a little bit of seasonal depression too. I'm just the rare percentage that gets it in the spring."

The explanation makes your body sag with relief because while you feel so horrible that there is a reason Natasha doesn't like spring, she's not falling out of love with you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize that I was hurting you," Natasha apologizes again. "I didn't mean to be so distant but I didn't want to bring your mood down as well, which is why I've been working so much to keep busy."

"It's okay," you muttered as your turn your head, forehead pressed against her neck. "I'm sorry spring is depressing for you."

Natasha merely hushes you as she kisses the side of your head.

You begin to feel awkward, thinking about how you must be heavy on her and try to move, but Natasha doesn't let you.

"Sweetheart, I don't know how to convince you that you're perfect to me," Natasha says so seriously as she forces you to look at her. "If you want to lose weight because that is what you want, then I support you. But I need you to understand that I love you no matter what. I don't care either way because you're so fucking lovely to me always. Do you understand?"

Timidly, you reply, "Okay. Thank you."

Natasha presses her lips against yours in a long kiss before she pulls back.

"Now, I'm going to ask again. Are you hungry? We can order in and watch that new show on Netflix I heard was pretty good from Wanda."

You feel lighter. You think you might still want to work out because that would make you happy, but you don't feel the rush like you did just a couple of hours ago.

"Yeah," you say shyly. "But maybe something not so heavy?"

Natasha nods as she presses another kiss into your cheek as she helps you settle onto the couch right beside her to grab her phone.

"Anything to make you bloom."

[introvert--weeb]

Can I ask for a request for draken who has a crush on fem reader who’s the half baby sister of hakkai and yuzuha and she’s practically the princess of toman and no matter how many times he tries to approach her she’s always nervous (kinda like her brother) of being around him b/c she has a huge crush on him and she plans on confessing to him but she sees someone else confessing to him and she gets pretty sad and after that a rival gang notices she’s the princess of toman and decide to harass/hurt her and she ends up in the hospital, draken finds out and is pissed b/c of what happened and he ends up finding the guys who hurt her and he and the others beat the crap out of them after that he ends up confessing to her at the hospital and it ends in fluffy fluff:3

Hi anon! Thank you for the request! I really hope you enjoy it!!

--

Draken X f!reader (angst to fluff)

TW: mentions of injury, hospitalisation, violence

-

You could remember the moment you had fallen for the Vice President of Toman. Draken. He had instantly taken your heart and he was all you ever thought about these days.

Being the baby sister of Hakkai (although not fully), you were really close to the lanky male. In fact, you followed him like his much smaller shadow when he would attend Toman meetings. With how often you had turned up alongside the Second Division Vice Captain, you had been adopted as the Princess of Toman. Your cute looks and innocent persona had made everyone feel the need to keep you safe from harm.

Especially Draken. He would even kill a man if it meant you would be safe and happy. The poor boy had developed deep feelings for you, so deep that he would even claim it to be love. This had gone way past a simple infatuation.

To anyone with eyes, they could see how you both were obviously in love with the other but your interactions were awkward to say the least.

Just like your older brother, you had a hard time communicating with the opposite gender. Not so much with Mitsuya or Mikey but anyone else would be victim to your shyness. Stuttering and soft words were evident whenever someone had tried to talk to you apart from those you knew.

Over time, you had gotten better with your shyness with other members of Toman, becoming especially close to Angry (Souya) as you both seemed to be similar. The only person you couldn't talk a single syllable to was Draken.

Draken had tried multiple times to talk to you, to get to know you. But each attempt was met with failure. As soon as he would get close enough to start a conversation with you, you would become flustered. A deep blush took over your face and ears before you would run off to find Hakkai. Ken was confused as he had hardly gotten a simple 'hi' before you had disappeared.

You didn't mean to seem rude. You just felt like your heart would explode if you remained in his presence longer than a few seconds to a minute. He was just so cool and perfect that you had convinced yourself he was way out of your league. But maybe one day you would get the confidence to at least allow your feelings to be known to the tall blond.

That day had finally come. You had finally gathered enough confidence to confess your strong feelings for Ken Ryuguji. Yuzuha had helped you practice what you would say while she dolled you up. She had picked out a cute black skirt with a f/c shirt that went perfectly. Cute is what you thought when you had examined yourself in the body length mirror. Hopefully Draken would think so too.

After another run through with what you would say, Yuzuha handed you your small bag which contained your wallet and phone. You thanked her for all her help before heading to where you knew Draken and Mikey would be. After all, it was lunch time.

It didn't take you long to reach the café, your hands fiddling with the hem of your skirt as you approached nearer. This was it. You were finally going to tell him how you feel and you would find out if he felt the same. If he did, great...if he didn't, you would have to accept it.

Pushing the door open, you were frozen to the spot at the sight that greeted you. At the table where Draken and Mikey were sat, there was a girl who was talking to the vice president. Silently approaching closer, you had caught the words that tumbled out of her mouth.

"I really like you Ryuguji-kun! Please accept my confession!"

That's it. Your world crumbled around you. You were too late. Too naive to believe you were the only one who saw how amazing Draken was. And due to your shyness, you had missed out on telling him your feelings.

Your body had gone into auto pilot as you ran out of the café, tears falling rapidly down your cheeks. How could you be so stupid? Of course Draken wouldn't like someone as awkward as you! He needed someone who was strong and had enough confidence in themselves. Someone the complete opposite of you.

You had been wandering the streets aimlessly for an hour now. All your tears had been shed and you felt empty. You didn't want to head home yet. Not while you were still wallowing.

"Oh hey! It's Toman's princess!" A strange voice called out somewhere behind you. How did they know that nickname? Did everyone know you as this? That you would have to guess was the case as it wasn't long until you were surrounded by high school kids.

You didn't know what to do. You could try to fight but you only knew a little self defense. Thinking about it, you really should have asked Mitsuya or Mikey or even Hakkai to teach you how to fight.

Within moments, before you could truly react, the gang had descended upon you with kicks and punches, knocking the air from your lungs. You had tried to fight back, even succeeding in landing a punch or two on your opponents. However, it only angered them more and the beating intensified.

The gang had left you alone when you could barely stay awake. Your body lay battered on the concrete, bruises and broken bones making themselves known. Maybe it was your lack of energy or maybe it was the intensity of the pain, but your mind had shut itself down causing you to pass out.

The next Toman meeting was that night. Everyone had gathered together at the usual shrine, parking their bikes and engaging in conversations until Mikey would begin his announcements.

Draken was in a pretty foul mood that night. Having received that confession from that girl had really put him on edge. Of course he had rejected her feelings, knowing his heart belonged to Toman's princess. Speaking of Y/N, where was she?

Hakkai had pulled up at the shrine, his face showing just how devastated he felt. Always one to wear his heart on his sleeve after all. He was blaming himself for not being able to protect his baby sister from the fate she had encountered.

Noticing that the lanky boy was on his own, Draken went over to ask about where you were as you never missed a meeting. Hakkai just shook his head, mumbling that he had explained the situation to Taka-chan and Mikey already so he should ask them if he wanted to find out. It wasn't that Hakkai was being rude, he was just emotionally exhausted from having to explain it twice already.

Panic set in Ken's gut but he had no reason why. You were surely safe, right? After all, you would follow Hakkai everywhere and he would protect you with his last breath if needed.

It was during Mikey's announcements that Draken had found out about you being in hospital, placed under a medical coma to help your recovery. No-one knew when and if you would wake up. This news caused Ken's heart to drop to his stomach but also for immense rage to ignite in his chest. He would find the gang that had hurt his princess and make them pay.

Draken along with the rest of Toman had found the gang responsible for your condition within days of your hospitalisation. A huge brawl had occurred which lasted maybe 5 minutes at most. Draken had left no-one conscious, taking his anger out on the scum that dared harm what was his.

Everyone in Toman had decided to visit you once the brawl was over and you were properly avenged. Everyone simply watched as your chest rose and fell with each breath, the only indication you hadn't passed on yet. Draken felt his throat get clogged by the tears and sobs he was holding back. He was the tough vice president after all. He couldn't afford to look weak.

Weeks passed by with Ken spending his time at your bedside, waiting for any sign that you would wake up. He missed seeing your e/c eyes that he could stare into forever. He missed your cute giggles he would hear when you joked around with Angry. He missed you.

Unable to help himself, Draken allowed a few tears to escape past his eyes and roll down his cheek. "Please wake up Y/N. I love you, and I will tell you that everyday when you are back," and with those words, Ken leaned forward to gently brush his lips against yours.

Just like how it happened in fairy tales, your eye lids began to flutter open as Draken pulled back. The poor boy didn't notice you were awake until your hand (which he clutched tightly in his own) began to move slightly. In disbelief, Draken moved his teary gaze to your face where you were smiling back at him. Your cheeks had begun to heat up once you realised that your crush was holding your hand.

"YOU'RE AWAKE!" Ken was so loud that you had to shush him, your voice laced with giggles. Draken was just so happy that you were awake and looking OK that he pulled your face closer to his. Before you knew it, your lips were covered by another pair in a harsh but love filled kiss.

You must have died and gone to heaven, you convinced yourself. Due to that thought, you had the confidence to kiss back, even lifting your hand on his bicep. It was the best feeling you could ever hope to know. Heaven was surely amazing.

"I love you... I love you... I love you..." Draken muttered against your lips in between the soft pecks he was now leaving on you. He was so happy that you had kissed back, almost confirming you felt the same for the blond.

"I love you too..." Your breath came out as a long sigh, your voice dreamy and filled with all your feelings. Ken moved away from your face and relaxed back in the chair he occupied, a grin plastered on his face.

You were finally beginning to focus on where you were. Beeping machines, wires connected to your arm, the distinctive smell of disinfectants. You weren't in heaven after all. You were alive and in the hospital. It was only then that you had realised you had kissed your crush and told him you loved him too.

All the confidence you seemed to have evaporated in an instant. You were left a tomato red and stuttering so much that no words could come up. You had actually confessed and kissed Ken Ryuguji...

It was 2 weeks later when you were discharged from the hospital, accompanied by bandages around your ribs and your new boyfriend. "Make sure you're ready for our date tomorrow babe," Draken whispered in your ear, causing shivers to travel down your spine.

This boy was going to be the death of you.

[vibraniumwing]

soft.

a bucky barnes x fem!reader wherein the reader comes home to see the super soldier with a toddler tucked in his lap.

WARNING: none! (all mistakes within the story are mine)

A/N: soft and domestic (and clingy) bucky, anyone? i’ve written this with tfaws bucky in mind after episode five where he was on the couch and smiled after seeing sam’s nephews. so yes now i present to you bucky with a child bcs we need that content, ,, good bYe for i shall be drowning in my own feels.

---

“Do you really have to go, doll?” Bucky asked, watching you by the frame of your shared bedroom door with his hands crossed against his chest. A heavy sigh heaving from his lips as his eyes observed you pick out a shirt to wear, hands grasping on his black shirt and opted to wear that; a small smile formed on his lips as you slipped into the clothing piece, adoring how big it looks on you.

You turned to him with your hand on your waist, an eyebrow raised, “Unless you want to starve for a whole month then fine I won’t go to the grocery” you say teasingly, checking yourself out in the mirror before walking up to him, arms linking around his neck loosely; his hands circling around your waist in a protective manner as he pulls you into him. “I won’t be gone for the whole day, James.”

He groaned softly, wanting nothing more than to accompany you but seeing that you were going with your mother, he opted out. “You always say that then be gone for the whole afternoon.” he grumbles in between the kisses he gives you. “You and your mom take so much time at the grocery store.”

You threw your head back and laughed, finding his small whiny state adorable. You retract your arms from behind his neck and cupped the sides of his face, squishing his cheeks gently. “You sound like a child, Buck. I promise I won’t be long. Besides, you have Alpine to keep you company.” you motion your head to the sleeping cat on the bed.

“Now please let me go so I can leave now and be back sooner.” you tell him, pressing one final kiss to his lips before ducking out of his embrace, making your way to the front door and grabbing your car keys before turning back to see him standing behind you with a small pout on his lips (albeit he would never admit to doing such an act),

You grinned and walked up to him, reaching up to press a small kiss on his lips. “Sometimes it's hard to believe you’re this big scary dude that can take twenty men down in a course of ten minutes when all I see is this big baby.” you tease, a hand snaking up to the back of his head to play with the ends of his hair softly.

“Doll wait before you go” Bucky starts off, holding onto you, cheeks lightly flushed as he hesitated with his words, clearing his throat lightly before looking away, “Can you set up that damn Netflix thing on the TV before you leave?”

Your gaze on him softened even more and nodded, leading him to the living room and set the whole thing up for him, handing him the remote right after. “I’m guessing you can manage now?” he smiled shyly, the area around his eyes crinkling as he nodded. “Yeah, I will. Thanks, doll.”

“I’ll be back later, I love you, Buck!” You bid him a goodbye, looking back at him from the door and gave him a small wave, the male waving back before focusing on the TV, searching for that one movie you suggested he watch.

“What was that movie called again? RIght, The Breakfast Club”

---

Not even half-way through the movie, Bucky had somehow fallen asleep on the couch, not finding the first few minutes of the film entertaining. He somehow fell deep into slumber that he didn’t even notice the front door of the house opening until he felt something being placed on his stomach.

He stirred awake and the first thing his blurry vision could make out is the outline of a toddler sitting on him. “Hey James, I’m leaving Hugo with you and Y/N for the weekend. Our babysitter cancelled out last minute and I’ve been trying to call my sister but she hasn’t picked up any calls.” Damian, your younger brother said in a rush, putting down your nephew’s baby bag on the coffee table. “Thanks James, we owe you one.”

But before Bucky could get a say in any of this, Damian was already out the door and the sound of a car pulling away was followed. Barely half-awake, he stared at the tyke who was staring right back at him with his innocent E/C doe eyes. “What do I do with you?”

He takes Hugo in his arms as he sits up, placing him on his lap, his metal arm reaching over to pause television. “Y/N’s better at this than I am.” he mumbles, watching the child look around the room before he started to fidget on the larger male’s lap, wanting to roam around.

Bucky sighs, “Now why won’t Y/N answer her calls?” he asks the tiny human who was still staring up at him. He reaches over to grab his phone and dials your number, only to hear it ring from the other side of the house, inside your room. He dropped the call and placed his phone inside his pocket, now wondering what he could do to keep the small person alive.

“Usually Y/N deals with you.” He says, watching the small child struggle on his lap, clearly wanting to get down. Bucky finally gets what Hugo wanted to do and sets him down on the carpeted floor, watching the toddler (wobbly) walk around the space freely.

Seeing that the child was doing alright after finding a small fixation with Alpine who was now resting near the couch, he returned his attention back to the TV to resume watching the movie. His attention split in half as he continued to glance back at the kid who was now playing with the toys you had brought him and kept at in a basket in the corner of the living room where you deemed it “Hugo’s Area”

Bucky was finally getting into the film, entertainment written all over his face at the sight of the students dancing around the library until it morphed into one of concern when a small bonk followed by a loud cry resonated the room making him look over at Hugo who was already flushed from crying.

He paused the movie again and rushed over to Hugo’s side, taking the small boy in his arms, cradling him on his lap as he tried to calm him down. “Now kid, don’t cry on me. C’mon” he mumbled, raising him up lightly to look at his forehead as he searched for any wounds, relieved to find none.

“C’mon James, what would Y/N do…” He said to himself, standing up as he moved around and cradled the crying child, trying to remember what you would do whenever he has meltdowns like this.

“Oh god, right!” Bucky exclaimed as he remembered, quickly going to the couch and sat down, placing Hugo on his lap as he gently placed his vibranium hand on the back of his head and his flesh one cupping the smaller one’s cheek, wiping the tears that glistened on his smooth skin.

Seeing how the toddler was starting to calm down, he carefully spoke, “Now you gotta work with me, little one.” Bucky then proceeded to blow softly on his face, remembering how you would do that when Hugo was having a fit. “Now can you do that for me as well?” He asked, encouraging the child with a small smile.

Once he felt the kid do the same thing, he repeated the steps a few more times until he was completely calm, letting the child snuggle up against his chest, feeling how he would occasionally let out a small shuddering sob from time to time, making Bucky laugh at the adorable action. “Now what do you want to do?” he gently asked, the cold surface of his metal hand that caressed the child’s back making small bubbles of laughter elicit from the baby.

“Bucky wead [ read ] pwease?” was all that left the two-year old’s mouth, causing a small surprise from the older. Hugo then pushed himself off from Bucky’s chest and turned to his small corner of the room, raising his small arm and pointing his even smaller finger towards the bookshelf that was filled to the brim with story books.

A chuckle left the soldier’s lips, “Alright then, little dude. Go take your pick.” he then proceeded to let him down and watch as the toddler walked his way towards the array of books and picked out one, running back towards him with a big smile.

“Alright big guy, what do you have for me?” Bucky asked, taking the tyke in his arms once again, taking the book from Hugo’s hands. He let out a (very) fake gasp of excitement which made the toddler laugh out loud as his reaction, making small little wiggles of his own eagerness for the book.

Bucky shifted in his seat a little to be more comfortable, letting Hugo snuggle up to him as he opened the book and started to read, “Llama Llama, red pajama, reads a story with his mama.”

---

You were elated to finally come back home and fall into your lover’s arms from a long day of errands with your mom. After the Target trip with your mom, you had to drive her back home and help her with her own groceries and pack up everything with her over at your childhood home一 with an addition of having a few serious talks with her about your future.

“Seriously, Y/N. When are you going to give me a grandchild?” Your mother poked your sides as you helped her bring in the bags filled with her stuff. Ever since Damian introduced Hugo to the family, she’d been on your heels about when you and Bucky would bring one to them as well; admittedly you and him had been in a much longer relationship than Damian and his wife which surprises everyone even more.

You shrugged, rolling your eyes in a playful manner. “I don’t know, mom. I think I’m content being with Bucky for now.” you answered truthfully, setting the items on the kitchen island and turned to her, “Besides, we have Alpine! Our cat!”

This made your mother sigh, laughing softly at your antics. “I know my sweet girl, but I’m just so excited to see a little you or James run around with Hugo.” Her answer causes your heart to swell at the thought of starting a family with him some day; conversations like this with him are normal but are always caught in a fleeting moment so you were never certain about his opinions on the matter.

“Well you just have to wait and see, ma.”

Taking the bags in your hand, you walked over to the door and opened it with ease, expecting to see Bucky waiting for you on the other side only to be greeted by none. Your eyebrows were furrowed as you carefully stepped inside, assuming he had fallen asleep as he waited for you until you heard his quiet voice resonating through the living room. “Little llama, don’t you know? Mama llama loves you so”

You peeked at the source of the sound and what you saw made you just melt on the spot. Bucky had Hugo on his lap, your nephew playing with the thumb of his artificial arm as he listened to the story that he was barely paying attention to as he was already falling asleep.

Not wanting to interrupt the moment, you graced on over to the kitchen in silence and arranged everything as quiet as you can. The smile on your face growing bigger at the thought of how much of a good father Bucky could be; the sight of him with your nephew caused a thousand butterflies to dance around in your stomach freely.

“You’re back, doll?” Bucky’s quiet voice made you jump, head whipping to his direction where he stood with Hugo fast asleep in his arms.

You nod and walk towards him, offering to take him from his arms and Bucky disagreed, pulling away from your attempts. “Hugo’s with me, I’ll take him to bed and I’ll help you finish out here, alright?”

Chuckling softly, you agree and reach up to place a quick kiss on your nephew’s forehead, moving aside so Bucky can place him down inside your room.

You were folding up the plastic bags when you felt a pair of arms sneak up and circle your waist, capturing you in a back hug. Your back was flat against his chest, the warmth from his body making you relax in his arms. Turning around, you let your arms snake up around his neck, your hands playing with the ends of his hair, his physique visibly loosening up. “So your brother came here earlier and said you weren’t picking up your calls.”

“I forgot my phone, i know.” you told him, throwing your head back slightly to let out a soft groan of annoyance at yourself before looking back at him. You met his gaze and his eyes were filled with adoration and love with a spark of something you can’t seem to pinpoint. “What’s going through that head of yours, James?”

He hummed softly, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, “I was just thinking of how I want to have a family of my own with you.” he answered truthfully, not finding anything shameful in admitting his thoughts. “The afternoon I spent with Hugo made me realize I want that for us as well.” his words were soft and dripping with enthusiasm at the thought of being with you for the rest of your days.

This made your cheeks flush lightly, a happy smile resting on your lips as you were already in agreement of his words, “I’ve been thinking the exact same thing, Bucky. I can’t wait to have our own little minion running around the house.” you admitted, this time making Bucky smile even wider than yours, happy that you had the same thought.

“Also, not to brag but I think I’m his favourite now.” Bucky said out of nowhere, grabbing the small carton of chocolate milk from behind you and letting you go, opening the drink and chugging it down in one go.

You rolled your eyes at his words, playfully flipping him off as you sauntered into the pantry where you were arranging your stock of goods. “I highly doubt that, he loves me way more.”

“That’s what you think but Hugo made me read his favourite book to him so now I’m his favourite. He even said it himself.”

“Oh no he didn’t!”

---

TAGLIST: @lunalovecroft @anchoeritic @harrysweasleys @https-bvcky @luana @weasleytwins-41 @angelsgrxzer

for those whose usernames are in bold, it means i cannot tag you for some reason. join my taglist! it's linked in the masterlist <3

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Tuesday

Monday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: anxiety, doctor’s offices, taking pain pills (not sure if I need to tag that, but just in case), stalkers, blackmail, swearing, non-consensual taking pics of nudes, slight body dysmorphia, self-loathing, toxic friends

Word count: 5,326

(A/N): another long chapter, my little wlw heart loved writing this chapter! Also holy shit I was not expecting the first part to blow up, thank you to everyone that read it! Gosh, it’s enough to make a grown woman cry :’)

You cracked open your crusty eyes to Wilbur poking his head into your room. “(Y/n), Dad wants you.”

You groaned rubbing at your eyes in an attempt to get the sleep out of them. “I’ll be down in a sec.” Your voice was scratchy and thick with sleep.

He closed the door silently and you heard his socked feet thumping down the hallway. Your pain faded slightly into soreness, but your shoulders and upper back were slightly stiff. After you drug yourself out of bed, you shambled down the stairs to see your family at the table eating breakfast. Your stomach growled loudly, making you blush slightly in embarrassment. 

Your eldest brother snorted. “Hungry (y/n)?”

You slumped into your seat next to him slowly shoveling food into your mouth. “You have no idea.”

“You wouldn’t be that hungry if you ate dinner when you got home like I told you to do last night, young lady. You better eat every single thing on that plate.”

There was no arguing with a stern Dadza, so you reluctantly complied. Meanwhile, Tommy and Tubbo were telling Wilbur about your match animatedly. 

“And the ball was like fwoosh and she- the ball and-and-”

“And she hit it and Haley hit it to the other side! It was so cool!”

Wilbur merely smiled listening to them ramble about how badass you were last night. They made you feel genuinely happy that they admired your volleyball abilities; they were probably your biggest fans and that made your day most of the time. You remembered the first match they came to during your freshman year, they had run up to you right after the end-of-match whistle blew to spew about how good you were on the court. They met the team that day. Your team adored having them at your games, over the years they slowly replaced your school’s mascot. They played a huge part in morale boosts before and during matches. 

He looked over to you, “I didn’t know my little sister could be so badass.”

You felt your cheeks flare up. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. It really wasn’t anything special.”

“(Y/n),” Philza pursed his lips, “you did all that with a bruised back, I’d consider that something special.”

“Wait (y/n), you’re hurt?” Tommy and Tubbo looked at you with wide concerned eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s not that bad. I can still move and stuff.”

Techno rolled his eyes, “it’s bad if you’re going to the doctor for it.”

“Eh, it doesn’t hurt as bad as it did yesterday, so I’m not worried.” 

“You’re deadass wincing everytime you move your arm,” WIlbur deadpanned, “it clearly still hurts.”

“Well yeah, I didn’t say the pain went away completely. Fuckin’ dumbass.”

“Language,” Philza glared at you two, gesturing to the two fifth graders watching the exchange with interest. 

You and Wilbur resumed eating and murmured out a defeated “sorry Dad.” You both glared at Techno when he huffed in amusement. 

“If you three keep bickering, you’re going to be late to school. Remember, you two have to drop off Tommy and Tubbo today cuz I’m taking your sister to her appointment. Now go get ready, I’ll take care of your dishes.”

Your brothers took off up the stairs, each competing to get to the bathroom first. Occasionally, you would hear shouts and slapping noises. You felt glad you didn’t have to deal with that today. Judging by Techno’s gruff voice laughing and an explosion of loud complaints from the rest, you assumed that he won today. “I swear, they’re gonna put me in an early grave.”

“You and me both Dad, you and me both.”

You went into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of pain pills from the junk drawer. Various bottles of Motrin and Advil were scattered around the house because when you live with a rambunctious family like this one, people are bound to get hurt and headaches are common. Popping three into your mouth, you washed it down with a glass of water. The sound of the running water faucet and the slight splashing of water filled the silence of the room. 

“How’s your back? Does it feel any better?”

“Kinda, today it just feels more sore than throbbing, my headache went away mostly, and my shoulder doesn’t feel any worse, so that’s better I guess.”

He shut off the water and reached for a towel to dry off his wet hands. He moved over to the freezer and grabbed a frozen package of peas that your family never ate. You all used it whenever one of you would get a bruise. He moved behind you and held it against your back without warning. Flinching forward from the unexpected temperature change, you winced with the wave of pain moving brought you. 

“Shit, sorry.”

“You’re good. Just give me a little warning next time,” you chuckled. He gently placed it back on your back and you sighed from the slight relief that it brought you. You leaned into the peas and closed your eyes. “That feels amazing.”

“I bet. That bruise was pretty bad yesterday, can I look at it again?”

You reluctantly left the sanctuary that was the medical grade frozen peas and leaned forward, moving your hair out of the way for him. “Knock yourself out.”

He made a hissing noise as soon as he moved your shirt out of the way. “Dad, it probably looks worse than it feels.”

“...Have you seriously not looked at this yet? It looks pretty bad, hun.”

“Well, sorry I can’t move to look at my back without being in pain. I’ll try harder next time.” You snarked him.

“Hey, watch the attitude. Here, I’ll take a picture so you can see how bad it is.”

You heard the rustling of fabric as he fished his phone out of his pocket and the obnoxiously loud click of his camera app. You turned around to look at the damage. You squinted at his bright phone screen. Your entire back was swollen in some areas and was covered in ugly reds, blues, blacks, and purples. You made a disgusted noise in the back of your throat and cringed away from the screen. You always got nauseous seeing injuries.

“Yikes.”

“Yikes isn’t the only word I would use, it’s bad (y/n).”

“It looks worse than it feels, I promise. I’m gonna go get ready so we’re not late to my appointment. It sounds like the boys are finally done with the bathroom.”

You hobbled up the stairs slowly and made your way to the bathroom. The door was wide open ready for you to use. Turning on the light, you closed the door in a hurry so that your brothers wouldn’t try to get in again to hog the bathroom like they usually did. You frowned at your appearance. Your hair was sticking up in every direction and you had dark eye bags around your dull looking eyes. A few pimples dotted your skin like constellations in the night sky, but much uglier and more out of place. Turning your body, you scanned your figure. Your eyes watered as you realized that you had gained some weight. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were right, you looked like garbage all the time.

You ripped your eyes away from yourself in the mirror with disgust etched deep into your features. You were disgusting through and through. Ripping your brush through your hair, you winced at the pain emanating from the back of your head. You deserve the pain for letting yourself go. Once you were slightly more satisfied with your appearance, you stepped out of the bathroom and quickly changed into the clothes you would wear today. You decided on a hoodie and a pair of tights. You didn’t feel like dressing yourself up. 

You once again walked down the stairs and slipped on your shoes to meet your dad in his car. You idly scrolled through your phone while you waited for him, looking at your notifications for the first time that day. You had ten texts from the group chat that you were in with Adrian, Annie, and Sammy.

Sammy <3

(Y/n) where the hell are you?

Adrian <3

Do you guys think she ditched us?

I knew she was ignoring us

Sammy <3

Who ignores their friends?

Annie <3

(Y/n) apparently. 

She has more important things to do ig

Oh my god

Do you guys think she skipped school?

Adrian <3

I wouldn’t put it past her

Maybe she finally gave up

(Y/n)

I’m sorry guys, I just have a doctor’s appointment today

I would never ignore you

Sammy <3

Yk, it’s hard to keep defending you when you keep ditching us..

(Y/n)

I’m not ditching you!

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys about my appointment

I’ll make it up to you guys

Adrian <3

How?

You’ve already skipped out on us enough already

Annie <3

Oh ik!

She can write our final research paper for us Dri!

I haven’t started it yet lmao

Adrian <3

Saaaame lmaoooo

Sammy <3

Guys, what about me???

Adrian <3

Idk, figure it out yourself

Sammy <3

Rude!

Uhhh

Ur gonna put together my final presentation for us history

(Y/n)

Alright, I can do that for you guys

Sam can you pls send me the rubric? 

Annie <3

Thanks love ;)

(Y/n)

No problem, I like doing things for friends

My dad’s coming, I gotta go

Talk to you guys later

Adrian <3

Byeeee (y/n), ur the best!

(Y/n)

: ) <3

You put your phone down as your dad started up the car and pulled out of the driveway. The drive was quiet as you stared out the window and thought about how much work you now had to do. On top of your own classes, you had two more to write and a presentation to make in a class you hadn’t taken since the first semester in your sophomore year. The research papers had to be at least four full pages long with a minimum of ten sources each due on Friday and you had no idea how big Sammy’s US history presentation has to be or what it’s even about. But that was fine, you’d do anything for your friends. 

“So, who were you texting? Your boyfriend?” He asked jokingly.

“Oh, just Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. I don’t have a boyfriend Dad,” because you were a closeted lesbian, but you wouldn’t tell him that anytime soon. “You know that.”

“I know,” he chuckled, “it’s been a while since I’ve seen them. How have they been?”

“They’re good. Adrian got a job at the diner, he’s a host. Sammy and Annie have been focusing more on raising their grades.”

“Good for them! You should invite them over for dinner sometime.”

“I was actually thinking that I could maybe go hang out with them on Halloween...?”

“(Y/n), the family was going to take Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating.”

“I know, but there’s always next year. Plus, we haven’t been able to hang out in so long! We’re always free at different times.”

“I don’t know (y/n), what if they don’t want to trick-or-treat next year? What were you planning on doing with them?”

“We were just gonna hang out at Annie’s house and watch some horror movies,” you lied. He would never let you go if he knew you were going to a party. Especially one where alcohol would be involved and hormonal teenage boys ran rampant actively scouting for an easy lay.

“...I’ll think about it.” The car pulled into the doctor office’s parking lot.

“Thank you Dad! It’s been a while since we’ve all hung out together.”

He chuckled as you both walked into the lobby, checked in, and waited for your name to be called. About ten minutes later, you were summoned by a nurse so you went into the back leaving your dad to wait in the lobby. The nurse recorded your height and weight (much to your dismay, you gained four pounds) and asked you the standard questions about your injury and uncomfortable questions about your overall health. The clacking of her acrylic nails on the plastic keyboard filled the awkward silence.

Once that was done, she left and you had to wait a little bit for the doctor. After slipping into the backless gown the nurse left, you mindlessly scrolled on your phone. Jumping when someone knocked on the door, you looked up to see your family’s doctor smiling at you.

“Hello (y/n), how are we feeling today?”

“I’m alright.”

“I hear that you had quite the fall onto some concrete, is that true?”

“Yes, I landed on my back and the back of my head.”

She reached over and squirted hand sanitizer onto her hands, rubbing it in and looking back at you. “Can you please lay on your stomach so I can take a look at your back?”

You nodded, shifting on the uncomfortable paper covered cushioned table onto your stomach. You felt her cold hands gently graze your bruises before she pulled out her stethoscope. “Can you take a good deep breath in for me?”

You complied and she instructed you to let it out. Doing this multiple times along your back, she put her stethoscope away and continued prodding at your exposed back. 

“There’s definitely some swelling in multiple areas… It doesn’t feel or sound like you cracked or broke any ribs, which is excellent… Do you have any pain deep in your shoulder when you move it?”

“Yes, I landed on it wrong last night at my volleyball match.”

“How would you describe your pain? Stabbing, sore, throbbing…”

“More sore, but a little stabbing pain when I move my arm.”

She moved her fingers to examine your shoulder. “It doesn’t sound like a sprain or fracture, can you move it up and down for me?”

You moved your arm up and down, front and back, and side to side. “You still have a full range of movement, that’s good. Can I have you sit back up again?”

You sat back up and she started testing you for a concussion. After passing her tests, you were cleared of having a concussion. “Alright (y/n), it appears that you only strained your deltoid and teres muscles and you have severe bruising along your back. Make sure you ice your back and, if you have one, wear a shoulder compression sleeve. Anti-inflammatory medications such as Ibuprofen will help with the swelling. Other than that, you have a clean bill of health! You can still participate in volleyball practices, but you need to take it easy. Don’t do anything that will strain the muscles any further.”

“Thank you Dr. Samson,” you smiled at her. 

“You’re welcome. I’ll leave you to change back into your clothes and you’re free to go! You may leave the gown on the table.”

She left the room and you redressed yourself. Walking out to the lobby, Philza’s head perked up when he heard the door opening. He stood up and walked over to you with a slightly worried face. You both walked back out to the car.

“So?”

“Dr. Samson said that I don’t have a concussion, sprains or broken bones. She told me that I just strained my shoulder muscles and I need to keep ice on my back.”

He visibly slumped in relief. “Thank god. What’d she say about volleyball?”

“She said that I could keep playing, but I have to take it easy.”

“Good, wouldn’t want you missing finals on Thursday. Do you know if the team you’re playing is any good?”

“Dad, of course they’re good, we’re the top two teams in the area.”

“I bet their setter is nowhere near as good as you are and I bet the setter and spiker aren’t as synced as you and Haley are. You two make a good pair.” 

“Yeah we do, don’t we?” You looked out the window and smiled a little and felt your ears turn red. The very mention of Haley’s name was enough to make you feel like you were on cloud nine. The car fell silent again as you neared your high school. 

In your AP world history class, the class was looking at the test you had taken yesterday. Surprisingly, you got a 74% on the multiple choice part and a 50% on your essay portion, so that landed you with a just below passing grade. You thought you completely flunked that test yesterday, so that was a pleasant surprise. It took a good portion out of your overall grade in the class, lowering it from a comfortable A- to a slightly alarming B. You supposed it could’ve been a lot worse. Besides reviewing your tests, the class didn’t do much except starting the reading for the next chapter.

Your psychology online class went like it usually did, however your phone blew up with texts about midway through the block. Glancing down, you saw that it was Haley. Shouldn’t she be in class?

Hales : )

(Y/n) meet me in the locker room right after school

I need to talk to you before practice starts

It’s an emergency

(Y/n)

What’s going on?

Hales : )

I’ll explain after school.

Can’t talk about it over text

(Y/n)

Alright, see ya then ig

You felt your gut twinge. Something’s wrong, but you didn’t know what. You were worried about Haley, usually she was really bubbly. You’ve never seen the senior act so strange before. You could only wait the block out until the bell would release you from the confines of the library and into the locker room. After sending a quick text to your brothers that you were going to stay after school for your practice, you stared blankly at your laptop’s clock as you counted down the minutes left in the class period. Ten minutes. Eight minutes. Four minutes. Two minutes. Thirty seconds-

You shot up from your seat as the bell rang. Pushing past some groups of freshmen that congregated in the hallways, you made a beeline for the locker room. In the locker room, you found Haley sitting on the metal bench on the opposite end of the locker room with her back facing the last row of lockers and facing the brick wall. She was clenching her phone in her hand with an iron grip. You hurried to sit next to her.

“Hales, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

“It’s bad (y/n). Like, really bad.”

“What’s bad? You’re worrying me.”

Wordlessly, she unlocked her phone and handed it to you. On the screen was something that you weren’t expecting to see. You scrolled through the contents and felt your stomach drop with each scroll; someone took pictures of you and Haley throughout the match last night. Every picture was a violation to yours and Haley’s dignities, they had gotten zoomed in pictures of your boobs and asses. Deeper, there were even pictures taken of you changing into your volleyball uniform through your open window. You were only in your underwear. Haley had a similar picture that you scrolled past as fast as you could. Scrolling to the bottom of the text message thread, the person that sent Haley the pictures added a caption to the last picture. It was a picture of you and Haley together celebrating your match, her arm slung around your shoulder with your mouth open mid-laugh.

Unknown

I’m sending these out to the entire school unless you stop hanging around her.

If you tell anyone, the pics will be printed off and put in every single locker and bathroom the school has.

You’ll be the sluts of Klinkver High. 

Cut all ties now. You have two days. 

Do not try me.

“Jesus christ Haley. Who the fuck would do this? This is sick.”

She took her phone back and locked it without looking at the screen. “I don’t know (y/n). I wanted to tell you not to openly talk to me for a few days. We don’t know who took these, we don’t know what they’re capable of. I don’t wanna risk angering them.”

“We can find them! If we look close enough, we might find a few clues where they were sitting. Do you remember seeing anything suspicious last night?”

“(Y/n), our best option is to leave it. We just can’t talk in person anymore; we can still text each other.”

“Hales, how are we gonna not talk? I’m your setter.”

She ran a hand through her thick black hair. “I don’t know (y/n). Just-just don’t talk to me anymore, I don’t want your pictures leaked.”

“I don’t care about my pictures. My name’s been drug through so much shit this past year that it won’t affect me. I don’t want your stuff leaked.”

She gave a watery laugh, “you care too much, I love that about you…” Glistening eyes turned to look deep into your own. “I’m so scared (y/n), I don’t know what to do.”

You pulled her into a hug, wincing slightly when she squeezed her arms around your upper back. She buried her face into your shoulder and started shaking with muffled sobs. “Haley, I promise I’ll catch whatever sick bastard is doing this to you. You don’t deserve this.”

She said nothing as you rested your chin on the top of her head and started to rock her back and forth slowly. You two stayed like that even after her sobbing resided, finding comfort in each other’s presence. Glancing at the clock, you realized that you two have been in the locker room for an hour. Practice was set to start in fifteen minutes, people were going to start coming into the locker room soon. 

You reluctantly pulled away from the hug and looked Haley in her bloodshot eyes, “I’m not going to let those pictures of you get leaked. I swear on my-”

The door to the locker room swung open and loud laughter echoed throughout the room. Haley pushed you away and speed walked off to a bathroom stall, slamming the door shut behind her. 

“Damn (y/n), what’d you do? She’s pissed.” 

“It’s none of your business, Zara.” 

“Oh, so it’s a lover’s quarrel then~” She cackled, her hair bouncing slightly with each heave of her shoulders. 

“For the love of… Haley and I aren’t dating, we’re both straight.” She’s straight.

“Mmhm.” She brushed past you to go to her locker. You followed her, your locker was in the grouping next to hers. You shared the area with Haley. You changed as fast as you could so that Haley would have time to change before practice starts. Speed walking into the gym, Zara was hot on your trail wearing a shit eating grin.

“Why are you in such a rush? Giving your girlfriend the silent treatment?”

“Zara. We aren’t dating. For the last time, we’re both heterosexual, not homosexual!” You wildly gestured with your hands to emphasize your point, your voice being amplified by the vast gym. Coach Williams gave you a confused look from across the gym. 

“You just keep telling yourself that.”

“I’m serious.”

“Hi serious,” a soft voice replied from behind you, “I’m Jazzy.”

You groaned at the pun at the same time Zara started cackling, giving the short libero a high five. “Nice!”

“That was so bad, Jaz.” You couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto your face.

Zara poked your cheek with a wide grin. “C’mon, you’re smiling!”

“I am and I hate it.”

Your bickering continued with Jazzy watching you two with a content smile. The remaining members of the team (Haley, Marlene, and Zuri) filed into the gym right as Coach Williams blew her whistle. 

Practice went by slowly without Haley talking to you. Sure, you had the rest of the team, but it didn’t feel the same with you guys ignoring each other. If the team or Coach Williams noticed you two not talking to each other, they didn’t say anything. By time practice was over, you all went to the locker room to change. After slipping into your fuzzy pajama pants, you sat on the bench and texted Wilbur to come pick you up. He was supposed to pick you up after practice today because he and Techno took the car home after school. Five minutes passed and he still didn’t reply. He probably won’t see the text until you got home from walking.

You sighed, resting your chin in your palm as you leaned forward. One by one, the girls left the locker room until it was only you and Haley left. 

“Do you need a ride (y/n)?” She asked gently.

“But what if the person sees us together? I can just walk home, it’s not really a big deal.”

She rolled her eyes at you. “It is a big deal. It’s cold and dark out. You could get kidnapped or something. You don’t even have a coat with you. I’m giving you a ride whether you like it or not.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her and stood up to walk next to her, “okay, mom.”

“Don’t give me that attitude young lady.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my real mom!”

She gasped and lightly smacked the back of your shoulder, “I married your- are you alright? Shit, I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, you’re good. It’s just this damned bruise.”

She moved her hands and frantically turned you around to pull the neck of your shirt down. You two stood in front of the school’s main entrance with the nauseatingly bright fluorescent light bouncing off the reflective surface of the tiles. The orange tinted street lights lit up the sidewalk outside.

“(Y/n)-”

“I know what you’re gonna say.”

She scoffed, “oh really? What am I gonna say then, o wise one?”

You turned around to face her, “‘oh, this is bad, yadda yadda yadda.’ Everyone’s been saying that about it. Honestly it looks worse than it feels. Tis but a scratch, m’lady.”

She snorted and covered her mouth, “never call me ‘m’lady’ ever again.”

You started to walk to her car in the empty parking lot. “Or what? What’re ya gonna do?”

“I swear to god, (y/n), I’m gonna leave you here.”

“Do it, pussy. Bet you won’t.”

“You really wanna bet?”

You grinned at her, “hell yeah.”

She broke off into a mad dash to her car, laughing freely into the night sky. You chased after her trying not to move your arms much, your laugh mixing with hers like a perfect symphony composed of the world’s best musicians. The sound of your rubber soles slapping the pavement resonated throughout the parking lot as you quickly gained on her. Reaching out to grab her shirt, she smirked at you and sharply turned to the right into the grass.

You grinned as her pace slowed down slightly. You’d be able to catch her at this pace. You pushed your legs to move faster as she looked at you from over her shoulder and shrieked in surprise at how close you were to her. You cackled at her reaction, reaching out once again, you grabbed her hand. She was stopped dead in her tracks as your shoulder was yanked with the sudden momentum, making you hiss in slight pain. Despite that, you didn’t let go of her soft hand. 

You both stood there under the moonlight and the soft orange street lamps trying to  catch your breath. The slightly damp blades of grass tickled your ankle as you shifted to face her better. Through gasping breaths and a dopey grin, you said “you… lost, pussy.”

She let out a breathy laugh as she pulled you to her car. “Shuddup.”

“Make me~”

She opened the passenger side door for you and got into the driver's seat. Her car smelled like vanilla and citrus. “Oh, you will later when I make you do more sets in weight lifting tomorrow, hurt shoulder be damned.”

She turned on the ignition and the car revved to life, soft indie pop wafted from the speakers. She backed out of the parking space and sped off to the main road. “You wouldn’t…”

“I’m your captain, (y/n). I can make you do whatever I want.” You felt your cheeks heat up a tad. You were happy that she couldn’t see you.

“Naw, you’re too much of a softie for that. Admit it, I’ve got you wrapped around my little finger.”

She chuckled as she pulled into your driveway and put the car in park. “...Alright, maybe you do. Just a bit.”

She turned to look at you. She looked stunning with the shadows accentuating the contours of her face perfectly. You found yourself glancing at her lips and leaning slightly towards you. To your surprise, she started leaning into you as well. Before your lips could finally mesh together, she pulled back with a sigh and ran her hand through her hair. You felt a rush of disappointment and fear course through your veins. She didn’t like you like that, you should’ve known better. You were so stupid. So, so stu-

“I can’t (y/n). I want to kiss you so bad, but we can’t. Not yet at least. Not until we find the pervert that took those pictures of us.”

You sighed, “right.”

The car was filled with awkward silence. Not even the soft music streaming from the speakers could alleviate the awkwardness. God, you really screwed up your friendship, didn’t you? Sammy, Adrian, and Annie were right; you messed up everything you touched.

You coughed, “I think I’m gonna…”

“Yeah…”

You grabbed your bag and walked into your house, the smell of chicken slapping you in the face instantly. Without checking in with your dad, you hurried up the stairs, desperate for the warm comfort of your bed. That, and if you wanted to get Sammy’s presentation and Adrian’s, Annie’s, and your research papers done by Friday, you had to start as soon as you could. You were going to skip dinner for tonight, you’d just grab more breakfast tomorrow morning. 

You plopped on your bed and got started on your research paper. Luckily, you already had all of the sources you were planning on using and the rough outline of each body paragraph, so writing the actual paper wasn’t going to take long. You worked until you heard a knock at your door. 

“(Y/n),” Techno’s monotone voice called out, “dinner’s ready.”

“Tell Dad I’m not hungry. Practice’s got me beat, I’m going to bed soon.”

He grunted, “you know he’s not gonna like that right?”

You felt frustration start to swim circles around your chest, “Techno, just tell him that I’m not hungry right now. Please.”

“Damn, you don’t need to be like that. I’ll tell him.”

You heard his stomping footsteps thumping down the hall. Shit, you pissed him off. You were a terrible person, he was just trying to get you to eat something, Pushing back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, you forced the panic that was starting to swirl around your body in laps deep into your being. You didn’t have time to deal with your failures and stupid emotions, you had to get this done. You didn’t have time to think about Haley’s warm breath ghosting across your lips. You didn’t have time to think about how she probably regretted almost kissing you. You didn’t have time to fall into an anxiety spiral, you needed to focus if you wanted Adrian, Annie, and Sammy to forgive you. You ruined yours and Haley’s friendship and did the same to yours and Techno’s. They were the only ones you had left. You needed to be a better friend.

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