#{ Starts off okay and feeling fine but then he slowly starts suffering yet nobody notices it. }

[yuichiroswife]

.  ◞   *   WHAT IS YOUR DUALITY ?

Moon Curse of the Werewolf.

You have found yourself hungered or sickened or ambitious to the point of emotional carnage. You are fine, until you're not, and then you could rip someone in your way apart with your bared teeth by complete accident, and later claw at yourself in fits of pain trying to apologize. Do you look at the moon that blessed you in her name, at her marred beauty and baneful eyes, and wish she could just crush that loving-hateful heart of yours before it crushes itself? Every bite you take out of flesh is a response to the threads of silver bullets in you that haven't healed. The duality is that the human inside is howling too, gnashing, and without the wolf pelt, everyone can ignore it and turn away. At some point, you got tired of the moon being your only witness. Now the wolf is there to make sure others know that you are hurt, and deserving of humanity, of attention to wounds. Because that wolf loves you; all of you; and knows when you are hurt better than yourself.

Tagged by: @tenebrispxnea

Tagging: Just steal it from me and tag me if you want.

[voraciousvore]

Bucky's (37/44)

Chapter 37: Difficult Decision

“Just give me some time to think about it, okay?” Ronny said to Tanya. She was trying to convince him that she would be fine, helping Leon with his plan, but Ronny had an uneasy pit of dread forming in his gut. He couldn’t stand the idea of putting Tanya in danger. He remembered how horrible it had felt, when he thought Bucky had taken or killed her after he found his apartment trashed, and knew he had to protect her, at all costs. 

Tanya, with some effort, obediently held her tongue. They were still at the office, after all. She could be patient. She had the rest of the day and night to discuss the matter later. Ronny continued to type on his computer, but his mind wasn’t on his work. The time passed all too fast, as it typically does when one wants it to pass slower. He didn’t want to have this conversation. As far as he was concerned, the matter was closed: There wasn’t anything Tanya could say to change his mind. And his word was the final say, whether she liked it or not. 

The workday concluded, and Ronny stood up to go home. He picked up Tanya and dropped her securely in his breast pocket. She wiggled against his chest until she was in a comfortable position and then held still. She stayed quiet, figuring she could talk to Ronny when they got home. Satisfied, Ronny ambled to the elevator and stepped in. Martin, holding Candy in his palm, joined him before the doors closed. 

The two Giant men didn’t exchange words, but their eyes met, and they knew they were in alignment on the issue. Like Ronny, Martin refused to put Candy in any situation where she could potentially be harmed. Candy had suffered too much at the hands of cruel Giants for Martin to even entertain the notion. Ronny was surprised to find common ground, dare he say even camaraderie, with his former enemy. He understood Martin’s actions better, with his stubborn protective instinct. Humans were fragile creatures, after all. 

They left the Big Corp building and parted ways. Ronny gently patted his pocket, checking on Tanya. She shifted in the fabric and he felt a burst of love for her. She was too precious to let go. Ronny entered his apartment building, ascended the stairs, and went to open his door. He felt a cold chill when he noticed the door was unlocked. He was certain he had locked the door when he left. He bent down to inspect the lock, observing scratches on the edges. The lock had been crudely picked. Slowly, he stood back up. 

“Ronny? Is everything okay?” Tanya asked. She could hear and feel his heart beating faster in his chest. 

“Y-yeah, everything’s fine,” he assured her. He put his hand on the knob and quietly opened the door. He took a tentative step forward, looking and listening carefully before slinking inside, closing the door behind him. He tiptoed through the apartment, hardly daring to breathe, checking every room for an intruder. Though he didn’t find anybody, everything felt just slightly off. His apartment hadn’t been trashed like before, but things had been moved around, almost imperceptibly. Somebody sinister had been here, likely looking for Tanya. Ronny gulped. Once he was certain nobody was hiding inside, he exhaled a sigh of relief and pulled Tanya out of his pocket. 

She looked at him as she dangled from his fingers, concerned. “Ronny?” 

“It’s nothing,” Ronny reiterated. He didn’t want to frighten Tanya unnecessarily. He attempted to hide how disconcerted he was with an anemic smile and changed the subject. “Why don’t I make us something to eat?” Tanya didn’t answer, merely tilting her head. Ronny cupped her in his hand and whisked her away to the kitchen. He set her on the counter and started to boil some water to cook spaghetti. He threw a chunk of ground beef in a hot pan for meatballs. To keep himself busy, he started chopping up onion, bell pepper, and garlic. 

He was deeply disturbed. Bucky hadn’t given up yet on hunting Tanya. Ronny wasn’t sure if the Giant had come here on his own, or had sent one of his henchmen, but the thought that a stranger had intruded in his private living space, seeking to steal Tanya, put him on edge. He couldn’t continue to stand by passively and hope everything would work out. He needed to take action, but he wasn’t sure what to do. He tossed noodles into the boiling water. 

“So are we going to discuss this, Ronny?” Tanya piped up, interrupting his thoughts. 

“Hm?” Ronny turned his attention to her. 

“Leon’s plan, remember? You’d promised we’d consider it.” 

“No. You’re not getting involved in that. End of discussion,” Ronny stated plainly. “I told you I’d think about it, and I haven’t changed my mind.” 

“This isn’t fair, Ronny,” Tanya persisted. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Just because you’re a Giant doesn’t mean you should be able to totally control me like this!” Tanya protested. “I’m a person too, and I can make my own decisions!” 

Ronny sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m trying to keep you safe, Tanya! I don’t know what I would do if I lost you!” He raised his voice at the tail end of his sentence. The fumes from the onion he was chopping stung his eyes, making them water. 

“I know that! But it’s my decision as much as it is yours!” Tanya yelled, stomping her foot petulantly. If the argument hadn’t been so serious, Ronny may have chuckled at her cute little outburst. “Don’t you understand, Ronny? Don’t you understand how tiny and helpless I feel, all the time? With no control over my life or fate? And now... now I have a chance to finally do something, something big, and you’re stopping me!” 

Normally, Ronny would have been unfazed by this line of reasoning. However, Tanya’s words struck a nerve with him, after the whole fiasco with Mr. Hardon shrinking him. He did understand, all too well, how she felt. When he had been reduced to barely a man at all, the size of a single fingernail on Martin’s pinky, he felt completely powerless, unable to do anything. Mr. Hardon had tasted him in his mouth and swallowed him alive and he couldn’t resist the Giant at all. He had to have Martin carry him around everywhere and protect his girl for him because he was too weak. He endured that humiliating torture for maybe a couple of hours; he couldn’t imagine feeling that way all the time. 

Furthermore, Tanya had experienced so many horrors where she had been powerless. She had been trapped in a glass display box, shoved into food dishes, eaten over and over again, leered at and manhandled. She had to watch her friends die as they were torn limb from limb, and when she had a slim chance to escape, she had been recaptured and her toes had been lopped off. And now, she had the knowledge that the other humans were trapped at Bucky’s, and she was yet again powerless to help them. All because Ronny, another Giant, was blocking her from taking action. 

Ronny sighed. He strained out the noodles in the sink and stirred the sauce as it heated up. Though he wasn’t looking directly at Tanya, he could sense her eyes burning through him in a focused stare. He slumped his shoulders and rubbed his face with exasperation. He sympathized with Tanya, he really did, but he cared more about her physical safety than her peace of mind. Even if she hated him, he had to keep her out of harm’s way. He loathed the thought of her being captured and wolfed down by the monstrous CEO. 

At the same time, he knew something needed to be done about Bucky, and he didn’t have a course of action in mind. The latest break-in of his apartment was evidence enough. They couldn’t afford to passively wait around until Bucky took more aggressive action. He couldn’t exactly storm into the restaurant and demand for Bucky to stop. He was at a loss. 

He looked down at Tanya as she crossed her arms and pouted. Bucky wasn’t going to stop. He realized it was only a matter of time before she was taken from him by force. He could keep her with him at all times, but all they had to do was ambush him with superior numbers, beat him up, and snatch her. He thought about how easy it had been for Martin to take her from him and shuddered. As much as he hated Leon’s plan, it might be their only option. 

Ronny let out another heavy sigh. “Alright, Tanya. We’ll do it. But you need to be very careful!” He wagged his finger at her. Tanya smiled at him, her expression hardened with firm determination. 

“Thank you, Ronny, for understanding!” Tanya cried, hugging one of his hairy knuckles. Ronny grunted in response and served up a big plate of spaghetti for himself. He chopped up a spaghetti noodle into finer pieces for Tanya, plated it, and dripped a drop of sauce on it along with a little crumb of meat. He allowed Tanya to hold the plate, then gently pinched her waist and lifted her up to take her to his dining room table. 

As Ronny ate his own meal, twirling his fork in the noodles, he observed Tanya scarfing down her much smaller portion. She was happy and fiery with fervent excitement. The corner of his mouth turned up in a smile. He loved her so much. She was brave and headstrong for her size, unrelenting in her quest to achieve her goals, yet still sweet and loving. He admired those traits in her. 

As he engulfed a meatball in his jaws, he was startled by a large knock at his front door. Tanya flinched, and Ronny grabbed at his throat as he choked on the meatball. To his horror, he heard the door open and realized he had failed to lock it when he first entered. He jumped to his feet to confront the unknown intruder, struggling to gulp down the chunk of meat clogging his throat. He turned the corner to the threshold, raising his fists threateningly.  

“Whoa there, Ronny! It’s just me!” a deep masculine voice greeted him. Ronny halted in his tracks. He finally managed to swallow and sucked in fresh air. He figured he must have been quite a sight, sweating and coughing with his face turning purple. 

“Oh, Dad,” Ronny sighed. He wiped sauce off his chin and dropped his hands to his sides. 

“Sorry, son, didn’t mean to scare the piss outta ya,” his father chuckled. “I haven’t heard from you lately, so I was getting a bit worried. I just thought I’d drop in and check on you. I know… things have been difficult for you lately.” 

“I see.” Ronny coughed again and thought for a moment. “A-are you hungry at all? We’re eating dinner.” 

His dad cocked an eyebrow. “‘We?’ You have a guest? That’s unusual… I didn’t think you had any friends.” 

“Oh… well actually…” Ronny didn’t know how to explain, so he figured it would be easier to just show him. “Come with me.” 

He led his father into the dining area. The older Giant, expecting another Giant, looked around the room blankly. He failed to see Tanya at first, until she trembled at the sight of an unfamiliar Giant. His eyes focused in on her and he raised his dark eyebrows, befuddled. “A human?” 

“Y-yeah,” Ronny confirmed, shuffling his feet. “She’s… um…” He flushed and swallowed. “My girlfriend.” 

“Girlfriend?!” his father exclaimed, both eyebrows shooting up. “Really?” He examined her with interest, then gazed back at Ronny. “To say I’m surprised is an understatement, son. Since when did you have affection in your heart for any human?” 

“Oh… I’ve changed, Dad,” Ronny admitted. He bit his lip and averted his eyes. He glanced over at Tanya for moral support, then back at his father. 

His father gave him a penetrating look, then smiled softly. “I’m proud of you, Ronny. I didn’t think you’d be dating, with how bitter you’ve been all this time. I’m glad to see you finally came around.” He squeezed his shoulder, and the tension seemed to drain from Ronny’s body. 

“L-let me serve you up some spaghetti,” Ronny hastily offered, and rushed out of the room. He wanted to please his father, but he also sought to lock the front door so there would be no other surprise visitors, particularly unwelcome ones. 

Ronny’s father, unaware of Tanya’s fear of Giants, sat down across from her at the table. Tanya held her ground, trying her best to conceal her anxiety from the Giant man looming over her, and examined him. The family resemblance between father and son was striking, but there were some noticeable differences. If Ronny was a cup of unsweetened black coffee, his father was the decaf version. He lacked Ronny’s edge, instead possessing a smoother and milder aura. His eyes were a lighter shade of brown, and his hair was a steely gray flecked with white, though he styled it in the same manner as his son. His build was slightly taller and slimmer, and his features were lightly weathered with age. 

The Giant clasped his hands together on the table and addressed Tanya politely. “I must confess, I’m very surprised to see my son dating a human. How did you two meet?” It was an innocuous question, but an uncomfortable one for Tanya to answer. 

“Um…” Would it be strange to admit that Ronny had ordered her as a meal and eaten her? “We met at a restaurant,” she finished lamely, not sure what else to say. 

Ronny’s father leaned over her with interest, preparing to follow up, but fortunately Ronny interrupted when he returned with a plate full of spaghetti. He set it down in front of his father and sat in his own spot, staying close to Tanya, and shoved a big forkful of noodles in his mouth. 

“What’s your name, sweetie?” Ronny’s father asked gently. 

“T-T-Tanya,” she stammered. She was surprised he was being nice to her. Considering how Ronny had been towards humans initially, she assumed he had inherited the attitude from his parents, and expected the older Giant to be colder and more condescending. She was mistaken. 

“You can call me Lorenzo, or Mr. Ragoon if you’d prefer,” Lorenzo informed her. He genially offered her his hand in a natural gesture. Tanya was obviously too small to shake it, but she held one of his fingers in acknowledgement. She smiled shyly up at him. She liked Ronny’s father. His gentlemanly demeanor put her at ease. 

Lorenzo turned his attention over to his son in a knowing look. “I see now why I haven’t heard from you.”  

Ronny gulped down his mouthful of noodles, mildly flustered. “Yes, well… hmm…” He struggled to find the right thing to say. “Tanya has been a blessing to me.” 

Lorenzo nodded. “I know opening your heart to another can be difficult, after you’ve been hurt. Lord knows I was never able to fully recover, after your mother left. Even so… I’m very glad you came around, son. I’m happy for you.” His eyes shined with warmth as he took a bite of his own meal.  

Tanya was always nervous around Giants eating, for obvious reasons, but she managed to eat her own meal and engage in conversation without freaking out. The three continued to talk until the end of dinner. Lorenzo was a skilled interlocutor and kept the conversation flowing naturally, giving Tanya plenty of chances to speak so she would become more comfortable talking to him. He approved of the arrangement between Ronny and Tanya, though he was oblivious to the details. When he finished eating, he politely excused himself and left, giving his son a hug on the way out. Ronny locked the door after him and returned to the table in better spirits. 

“Your father is quite charming,” Tanya remarked. “I didn’t expect to meet your family so soon.” 

“Indeed. I’ve always had a good relationship with him,” Ronny agreed. “I have an older brother as well. Perhaps sometime you can meet him too.” 

“I’d like that,” Tanya replied. “Hopefully someday… you can meet my family too.” Her face fell. 

“Aww, Tanya…” Ronny encased her in his hands and lifted her up out of her chair to his face. “I have faith that day will come sooner than you think.” He kissed her tenderly, enveloping her body with his sensual lips. Tanya kissed him back, resting in his soft palm. 

“I hope so.” 

Chapter 38

Chapter 1

[luvyanfei]

how they comfort you when you’re sad

ft. diluc, kaeya, venti, childe, zhongli, albedo, & xiao non-requested piece 

diluc ragnvindr. 

as stoic as diluc may be, he’s the most emotionally affected by your misery out of the others listed here, but he’s clueless in how to help. he’s not adept in everything despite being known for being a perfectionist and unfortunately, comforting you is one of them. he would reach out a hand to you, and then pull it back to his side before you notice. it annoys him greatly how he can insult the knights without hesitation and combat against his enemies confidently, and yet...

it’s easy to get diluc flustered over the simpler things in life. you’re usually so happy and lively, the light to his dark that he finds it almost eerie to see you looking depressed as you enter the tavern. you don’t even spare him a glance, and slumps down at an empty seat, your head splayed down on the table. out of concern for your wellbeing, the winery owner whips up your favourite drink free of charge and delivers it himself to your spot. instead of leaving you as one would expect, he pulls up a chair and taps the wooden surface of the table with his gloved fingers, stirring you to look up at him. he greets you in a monotone voice unintentionally, and shyly asks if there are any problems going on in your life. he may not look like it, with how distant he is, but diluc would be very pleased to help you. 

with hesitation, you take the drink and start taking small sips from the cup. the savory taste melts on your tongue and your lips quiver slightly. before you know it, you’re reduced into a sobbing mess, your tears staining the floor. “what’s wrong?” dismayed, diluc rises up and pats your back, handing you a handkerchief from his jacket pocket for you to wipe your tears away with. 

he ushers you into a private room where nobody can see you and rubs your hands together. he doesn’t talk, instead fixating on calming you down. dabbing at your swollen eyes and cheeks gently with a drenched towel, diluc cradles your face and leans in close to you, your foreheads touching. “i’m here, [name],” his voice is soft and delicate, a sharp contrast to his formal and uninterested tone, “i will always be here for you, so you don’t need to worry about suffering alone. we’ll get through this together, alright?” 

kaeya alberich. 

he’ll take you to the tavern with him for a nice drink. it won’t do you any good to be by yourself and moping, right? as hypocritical as it may seem, kaeya is fully accepting of you coming to him for emotional support despite being rather closed-off when it comes to his personal emotions. if you’re underage, he’ll purchase you a soft drink or juice, and if not, a glass of wine will surely boost your spirits up. his attempt to cheer you up is to temporarily distract you from it. quite clever of him, no? of course, his objective isn’t for you to ignore your problems altogether, but to take your mind off of it until you can think a bit clearly. 

kaeya will act like a gentleman the whole time, letting a few teasing remarks slip out every now and then, but his attitude is toned down for the most part. after you consumed a plentiful amount of beverages, he takes a stroll with you in the night, passing by a bard stringing music on their lyre. this gives the cavalry captain an idea and he takes you into a secluded area, fireflies glowing to add a touch of whimsy to the scenario. still gripping your hand, he raises it up to kiss the surface and proposes you to join him in for a dance under the moonlight and stars. 

kaeya looks at you with a brimming grin. “are you feeling better now?” you nod, placing a hand on his open palm.

“now that you’re here, yes, i am.” his smile broadens and cups your cheek with his free hand. the tip of his thumb lightly grazes your bottom lip before he replaces it with his lips. the kiss is passionate and savory, a description that fits your relationship perfectly. 

“i’m glad you do,” he pulls back and breathes out a sigh of relief. “it’s the same with me. i admit, i also enjoy your company very much.” 

venti.

it’s best to let your emotions run loose. don’t bottle it up, okay? if you need to cry, then cry. sure, venti may act all carefree and exuberant, but even he has his serious sides from time to time. he takes the situation rather calmly, pulling you into a comforting embrace and rubbing your back as you tearfully sob. when he feels that you’re muscles have slowly relaxed and your cries have been reduced to tiny sniffles, he transitions out of the hug and places his hands on your shoulder, all with an angelic smile on his face. see, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?

if you’re up for it, venti will be happy to play you a quiet melody carried in the night breeze. he’ll position your head to lean on his shoulder as both of you sit down on the ground and he clears his throat before he begins singing. the stringing of the lyre, the gentle rustle of the leaves in the background, and the soothing sound of his voice automatically brings a smile to your lips. snuggling closer to him, you drift in a state of contentment and serenity. once the bard catches wind of your heavy breathing, your eyes fluttered closed, he stops his singing and presses a dainty kiss to your forehead. 

carefully, so he doesn’t disturb your slumber, venti carries you back to your resident and tucks you into bed. as he’s about to head off, you snag him by the wrist, and tug him back to your side. “please don’t go yet, venti.” he pats the hand imprisoning his wrist and chuckles in amusement. 

“don’t worry. i don’t plan on ever doing something like that.” he crawls into bed with you, tangling your legs together and hooking his arms around your waist. the tip of his nose grazes your hair faintly as your back is pressed against his chest. “not now, and not ever.” 

childe.

he’s the eleventh harbinger, yes, but beneath his fearsome title and mischievous demeanor, childe is a regular human with an affable heart. it hurts him seeing you look dejected, as if you’re on the brink of suffocating from insufferable pain. it’s like your emotions are a type of infection, contagious to say the least. if you’re happy, then he’s happy. if you’re sad, then you’ll bet he’s also going to drop his jovial gleam. luckily, growing up with siblings gives him an advantage here. he’s used to taking care of others and turning their frowns upside down. 

if he finds out someone has been upsetting you, he’ll personally deal with them himself, ordering them to apologize lest they want to face his wrath. if you’re having financial difficulties, he’ll lend you a generous amount of mora so you can clear your debts or help you find a well-paying job. either way, he’ll cradle you in his arms and compliment you for being strong, no matter what life throws at you. life’s hard, but that’s all the more reason why you should keep marching forward - hand in hand with childe.   

“shh, [name], it’s okay. don’t cry.” childe kneels before you and wipes away a salty tear. grabbing a teddy bear abandoned on the ground, he shoves it in front of your face. to your sudden bewilderment, he grabs the bear’s arm to pat you on the head and grins. “there, there. mr. teddy is here to make you happy once more.” 

you sputter out a giggle despite tears still leaking from your eyes. “childe, i’m not a little kid anymore. cut it out!” he resists the urge to pinch your cheeks when you pout cutely at him. 

“fine, fine. i’ll stop, but hey! at least you’re smiling again, right?” you roll your eyes and sniff. 

“yeah, i’m feeling a little better. thank you.”  

your comment forms a blush to dust his cheeks and he sheepishly scratches the back of his head. “there’s no need for gratitude. to me, your smile is the one thing i’d hate to lose.” 

zhongli.

feeling sad? his arms are already wide open and a box of tissues is conveniently laid on the table. zhongli is the wave that laps up your sorrows and tears, the lulling sound of his voice uttering words of reassurance like a tranquil melody to set your heart at ease. he’s the type who will lend a shoulder for you to cry on. while he brews up a nice cup of tea to soothe your mind, he encourages you gently to tell him whatever it is that’s bothering you. he soaks up every syllable that falls from your lips like a sponge and in a pensive state, he gives you advice in turn. 

you take his words to heart, since everything he’s said before have always been genuine and your trust in him runs deeper than the bottom of the sea. sure, maybe not everything he says is the answer that will cause your problems disappear, but he does guide you to choose rationally how you want to approach it. as much as zhongli would like to solve everything for you, he’s aware that there are times where only you have the potential to fix the issue. 

the golden ginkgo leaves twirl in the autumn breeze, as zhongli clasps his hands with yours. you adjust the scarf around your neck, shivering from the mild chill settling in liyue. 

you stare grimly at the seagulls soaring in the cloudy sky, and peers down at your feet planted firmly on the ground. a frown tugs on your lips and you sigh. a warm hand caresses your cheek and you look towards zhongli smiling gently in your direction. wiping away the tears that are beginning to moist your eyes, he encages you in a comforting hug. 

“don’t hold it in,” zhongli whispers soothingly in your ear, “you’re allowed to cry if you want. i promise you, there’s no judgement.” 

albedo.

it’s like he has a sixth sense. you could have been crying in your sleep last night and the first thing you wake up to is all your favourite meals placed rigorously on a sliver tray and a positive message with cursive, neat handwriting scribbled on a notepad for you to read. albedo is rather considerate, like that. before you started to live together and entered a more domestic relationship, he visited your home and asked if anything was wrong in a neutral tone that belied his concern. you were shocked how he could have possibly known since you were sure you concealed the visible evidences skillfully with makeup, and you looked quite normal for the most part, as if you hadn’t been crying mere seconds before he knocked on your door. 

he shrugs indifferently and responds that he just has a feeling something’s bothering you. albedo will take a day off from his confinement in his lab so he can stay with you. he takes you by the hand and gestures for you to sit down on a nearby chair beside him, offering you delectable appetites to eat while you rant to him. once you’re finished spilling out your problems, he kisses you on the forehead and tells you that you did a good job. it isn’t easy to admit you’re not mentally well, in which he praises you for. 

hugging your legs to your chest, you quietly ask him if it’s not a bother. firmly, albedo shakes his head and squeezes your hand reassuringly. “no, you’re never a bother.” he scoops up a spoonful of ice cream and feeds you the cool dessert. once you swallow, his lips curve into a little smirk as he wipes away the excess on the side of your mouth with a finger and licks the cream off with his tongue. 

“whether you’re happy, sad, or disappointed, my love for you will never change.” 

xiao.

he’s not very good at handling these types of situations. xiao can never know what he’s supposed to say or do to make you feel better, so he just stands there awkwardly. please don’t blame him! he’s already terrible at consoling himself that having to cheer someone else up seems more like an impossible challenge than a simple task. however, like albedo, he can also sense if you’re depressed or in need of saving. what do you mortals call it, an instinct? 

he asks verr for advice on what to do to help, and she suggests for him to stick by your side and show that he cares deeply about you. it takes xiao a while to come up with a suitable plan. he wanders up to the highest floor of wangshu inn and reminisces over the past. your first meeting with him, the time when you gave him almond tofu, and when you both fought together to protect liyue - he’s memorized it all down to the last detail. suddenly, an idea clicks into place and he teleports immediately to where you are. sitting on a bench alone, while you absentmindedly watch the birds peck at the crumbs scattered on the cement floor, it takes you by surprise when you find xiao hovering above you. he reaches out his hand and composedly asks if you would be willing to accompany him for the night. 

when you encounter him at the location where you agreed to meet, you curiously question xiao what he wants to do, but he doesn’t reply. instead, he scoops you up in his arms, a surprised expression on your face as you wrap your arms around his neck so you don’t end up falling. before you know it, both of you are... soaring in the air? your eyes subconsciously drift to his vision glowing brightly in the murky night. so he’s using his anemo abilities to create wind currents and literally sweep you off your feet. 

“do you see this place?” he gestures with his head for you to look at liyue harbor. the city lights glow in the darkness and most people are walking back home, idly chatting with each other and giggling. “it wouldn’t be as peaceful as it is now if it weren’t for you. so if you ever feel sad again, know that it’s you who puts a smile on everyone’s faces - including mine.” 

and with that, xiao smiles serenely at you, to which you finally offer a grin of your own. 

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 7.8k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: threesome, nipple play, riding, unprotected sex, dom!taehyung, sub!?, restraints, blindfold, degradation, praise

A/N: it's my first time writing tgm smut in so long i hope it's okay ;;;-;

DAY TWENTY-SIX

Unable to fall deeply into sleep, when you wake fitfully at half past six in the morning, you decide to give up on it entirely.

A bath wakes you up slowly and gently, in no rush to clean yourself with a soapy loofah, the sweet smell of orange blossom lifting your mood just slightly. No matter how hard you scrub at your skin, Jin’s touch lingers beneath the surface like a tattoo, the reminder that you’d willingly chosen to cut him off from you that elimination day, and that your decision was keeping him from you.

The previous night, you’d spent hours with a hand cradling your cheek, trying to work out what the kiss even meant. A farewell, a consolation prize, a promise for patience? Either way, it just felt cruel to you. You rub harder, covering yourself in the foamed soap and watching it dissolve into the water.

By the time you dry yourself, well over an hour has passed, and the pangs of hunger start to flare off inside your stomach. You dress quickly, thoughtlessly, and sneak out of your door to the complete silence of the second storey. Nobody else seems to be awake yet, so you take your chance to go down and start on some breakfast.

The selection is relatively bleak to your lazy body, unwilling to make anything that requires the kind of effort the two eldest men tended to give for a meal. In the end, you tug some leftover curry from the back of the fridge, giving it a stir and setting it to heat up in the microwave.

The rhythmic whir and countdown combined with your lack of sleep is enough to have you feeling weak, slumping on the counter top. You rest your heavy head for a moment, pillowing it with your arm, and watch the dish turn around and around and…

“-matter, we’ll just wait and find out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Trust hyung. It’ll be fine. Can you pass me the- no, just beside it, the soy sauce- thank you. Should be ready soon.”

“Mhm, smells good.”

Adjusting to your sloped return to consciousness, it is the inviting smell that greets you after your hearing. A deep, meaty aroma is lifted with spices, making your mouth water.

The moment you shift, a sharp pain runs down your spine, settling at the back of your neck. You grunt, eyes squeezing shut at the ache.

“There she is. Must’ve been tired, poor thing.” The first one grows louder, sounding close to you as fingers reach out to tap your shoulder. “Wake up, sweetheart. Let’s get you something to eat.”

You groan again, lifting your heavy body up enough to prop your elbows on the table and press your hands against your eyes, willing coherence to sink back in. “Morning,” you croak, though by the way you feel, it could very well be evening.

The figure behind you - Yoongi, by his smooth rumbling voice - moves back around into the kitchen, and your ears perk up with the clink of bowls on the countertop. Blinking blearily, you yawn and focus in on the second person.

Jungkook is lifting a heavy saucepan and carefully pouring a stew into three bowls, the pink of his tongue trapped between his lips. “‘S that enough?” he questions, biceps flexing beneath his shirt as he hovers with the pan.

Yoongi nods once, fiddling in the drawer for spoons and chopsticks, and quickly hands you a set with your bowl, steaming lightly.

You smile gratefully, reaching out to feel the heat radiating off the ceramic. “Thanks, Yoongi.” The last of your sleep fades away, and you gasp suddenly, shooting up ramrod straight. “Wait - Yoongi, Jungkook! You’re back!”

“Keen eye,” Yoongi drawls sarcastically, but a fond smile plays on his lips nonetheless as he blows on a spoonful of broth. “Dad checked out of the hospital around 5. He’s doing really well.”

“Oh, Yoongi, I’m so glad,” you gush, relief filling your system.

Yoongi, however, seems to grow somber, eyebrows drawing together. “It wasn’t all good news, though.”

You freeze. “What? What happened?”

Like the news pains him, Yoongi grimaces. Jungkook, too, looks absolutely crestfallen. In unison, they open their mouths with matching frowns.

“The restaurant sold out of lamb skewers.”

“I didn’t see a single gho- Oh, yeah, the lamb skewers,” Jungkook tacks on, deflating. “But we stopped by a market on the way home to buy some lamb so we could make our own.”

“We?” Yoongi asks incredulously. “I didn’t see any ‘we’ when you refused to chop vegetables just now.”

Jungkook makes an offended noise in the back of his throat. “I just suffered a paranormal experience, hyung, I was too shaky to handle a knife.”

“You just said you didn’t see any ghosts.”

The youngest huffs. “I felt them.”

Your head darts back and forth, lamb stew forgotten as you watch the playful rally between the two men. Yoongi doesn’t miss a beat, raising a single brow. “What; was there a poltergeist petting zoo on the fourth floor I wasn’t told about?”

“Their presence, hyung. I felt their presence. Taehyung even said he could feel a chilling aura coming through the phone and into his body, but he thinks it could’ve just been Jimin’s feet.”

Yoongi presses a few fingers to his temples like he’s getting a headache. “You mean to tell me I had to get my sickly father to pretend you were his son all for you to stay the night, and the only thing that happened was Taehyung getting possessed by the ghost of Jimin’s feet?”

Jungkook blinks once. “There was a vending machine that gave out free lollipops,” he offers.

“A vending…” Yoongi sighs, eyes slipping closed. “Jungkook, I think that’s for patients who get low blood sugar. For emergencies.”

“Oh.” Jungkook considers this for a moment. “I took five of them.”

“Of course you did. Alright, eat up, please. It’s getting cold.”

You quickly thank Yoongi for the meal with a bemused smile, chest feeling light at having the two back in your company, and Yoongi in a visibly better mood than the past two times you’d seen him. The three of you fall into an easy silence for a few moments, but it doesn’t last long as the others in the house begin to wake.

Namjoon is first down, getting over his initial surprise quickly and rapid-firing countless questions to Yoongi about his father, ensuring he truly was alright. Taehyung and Jimin are next, the former just about barrelling into Jungkook and Yoongi, tugging them into a bear hug as Jimin watches fondly from behind. When a bleary-eyed Hoseok comes down, he notices the breakfast before the company, letting out a relieved groan at a mouthful of broth and promptly choking on it as he processes the presence of Jungkook and Yoongi.

Finally, it’s Jin that takes the longest to wake, and when he turns the corner and spots them, his only response is a wordless sigh, and a silent hug. Despite that, his emotions radiate off him in waves, and you don’t doubt there are unsaid words shared between him and Yoongi. To your surprise, he breaks away after a moment and pulls Jungkook into a tight albeit brief embrace as well, patting him on the back with a quiet murmur you don’t catch.

It feels right, comfortable and calming to have all eight of you back in the Villa together. The short absence feels so much more extended when you’re used to the same company twenty-four hours a day, and having them all back in your immediate vicinity again feels like a hit of some intense high. The relief rushes through your system, and you catch yourself unconsciously counting heads over and over.

“So I guess we just sit here?” Hoseok asks at one point, interrupting the blanket of quiet that had descended over you as you ate. “Do you think we should text Sejin and tell him to come debrief us or what? It feels like we’re in limbo.”

“No need.” A new voice resonates from behind you, Sejin himself walking through the doorway.

Taehyung narrows his eyes to the point of almost closing them, glaring first at the producer and then at the dormant cameras in the top corners of the room.

“Don’t worry, we aren’t rolling just yet. I’ve just been waiting a while for you all to get sorted. I figured you deserved to at least eat first, Yoongi, Jungkook.”

“Well, we’ve eaten,” Yoongi confirms, oddly stiff, an unreadable expression darkening his features. “I guess that means it’s showtime again.”

Jungkook looks up at him from his hunched posture leaning on the countertop. “I bet a lot of them missed you, hyung. The viewers. They seemed really worried on Twitter.”

Yoongi blinks, shifting. “Missed-? I- I suppose it was sudden. We should probably get this thing up and running again so they aren’t concerned.”

As Sejin nods in confirmation and pulls out his phone to relay the message, you nearly miss the quirk at Jungkook’s lips at changing Yoongi’s attitude so easily. The two of them seem at ease with each other like nothing you’ve seen before. No doubt due to the time they’d spent together last night, and it warms your heart to see them standing so closely.

“Come on, then,” Sejin announces, belatedly lifting his gaze and putting his phone back away, the cameras installed around the room blinking back to life with their steady red blip. “Let’s move to the couches again.”

“Just like the good old days,” Jungkook sighs dreamily.

Jin raises a brow, taking a seat in the center of the middle couch, the two youngest jumping in on either side of him like toddlers ready for a bedtime story. You do your best to ignore him, still feeling sensitive from the night before. “You mean ‘just like four days ago?’”

From his left side, Taehyung huffs lightly, though makes no effort to distance himself at all from the eldest. “Time is a social construct.”

“Can we make a start?” Sejin questions, perched on the corner of the coffee table with his hands on this thighs. “I doubt the viewers are here to listen to you bicker.”

“Right you are,” Taehyung notes, nodding sagely, “they’re here for the good stuff.” He shares a glance with Jungkook, and in unison the two of them place their hands side-by-side directly on top of Jin’s crotch, glancing up at the cameras expectantly.

Jin clicks his tongue like his dick being used as a prop is little more than a mild inconvenience, making no move to push their hands away.

They do, however, when Sejin flattens a stare at the two of them. The youngest properly chastened, the producer finally looks around at all of you as a group. “For the sake of continuity and coherence, we’re picking up where we last left off: Limited Edition week. Yoongi, you’re the only one to already have completed your prompt-” the man puffs his chest at this, sharp eyes darting to you as Sejin speaks, “-so you’re done for the week. Namjoon, Hoseok, Jungkook and Jimin, I’m afraid you’re left with very little time to complete yours. Because of this, you’re no longer required to wait for a text message to start your scenes, and I’m also postponing the Fan Favourite vote until Monday morning to give you some additional time. We’ll unfortunately have to merge it with the elimination meeting. Today is already Friday, so do the best you can.”

“We won’t let you down,” Jungkook promises fiercely, conspicuously glancing down at Jin’s lap as if he’s about to use it for emphasis again.

Sejin sighs, shifting back, continuing on as if he didn’t hear the strangely passionate pact. “If anyone has forgotten their prompt, don’t hesitate to ask, otherwise the show is back on as per usual. Producer Kang is coming in at midday to set up the confessional booth again, so from this afternoon onwards, feel free to use it again to share your thoughts. I’m sure the viewers will have their fair share of questions for you as well. Understood?”

Most of you nod, content with the update. You try and fight the sickly flutter of anxiety in your chest that creeps up at the reminder of elimination, focusing instead on the side of you that’s relieved to have this level of normalcy back, and secretly pleased to have your cards filled up for the next few days. It feels like it’s been longer than it has, and you shift in your seat wondering who will approach you first out of the four men yet to fill their prompt.

Perhaps it won’t be Jungkook; he pushes himself off Jin and tiptoes to Sejin’s retreating figure, asking for a reminder on his prompt with shy pink cheeks. The producer lets out a weak laugh of bemusement and guides him out of the front door to escort him to the producing van outside.

The others seem to know what they’re doing, and you spy Namjoon and Hoseok with heads ducked together, Hoseok grinning at something Namjoon’s saying. The two have been growing closer lately, almost out of nowhere, and you’re curious if they’ll stick as two peas in a pod when it comes to the game, too.

The four of you that remain chill for a bit, making lazy conversation on how strange it feels being back on the clock again. It’s nice, being able to enjoy the time relatively care-free. Despite the overall weirdness of the competition in context to real life, it’s become a comfortable familiarity, and you welcome it back.

You could happily spend the whole morning there, were it not for the sharp bolt of pain that rushes up your spine when you turn to listen to something Jimin has to say.

Gasping, hand coming up to cradle the back of your neck instinctively, you squeeze your eyes shut at the sensation. From beside you, it takes no time for Jimin’s hands to find you, gently settling on your back and arm as he asks you if you’re okay.

“I fell asleep on the counter this morning,” you admit, trying not to move your head at all as you speak, “I think it messed up my neck.”

As your eyes untense and open again, you see Jimin’s rounded in concern, first at you and then glancing over at Tae in sober worry. His teeth are running over his lower lip over and over, a habit that he does in moments of stress and helplessness, and through the ache you can’t help but feel warm at his reaction.

“When does it hurt most?” you hear Taehyung ask, and it’s habit that makes you turn your head to face him.

“Fuck,” you curse thickly, shoulders hunching up against the tight feeling, “just when I turn it. Feels like a tug that shouldn’t be there.”

Yoongi and Jin are silent, and from your new angle of vision, you can see their apt focus on you, Yoongi going so far as to be shuffled half off  his couch, ready to jump up and give medical aid.

“It’s probably a crick in your neck,” Taehyung asks, and you spot his mop of browl curls fill your vision as he crouches in front of you and looks back over his shoulder. “Right, hyung?”

Yoongi hums in agreement. “Sounds like it. I can get a heat pack?”

“I have some upstairs,” Taehyung answers, “I think a massage would help a lot. Y/n, do you think you can make it upstairs?”

You take a moment to consider this, and gently shift your head around with small motions. Up and down seems to be fine, and left and right hurt the more you turn. “I think it’ll be okay,” you decide, “I didn’t really notice it that much until just now.”

“Okay.” Taehyung presses his lips together and stands up again, holding out his hand to you. Slowly, with several check-ins, he guides you upstairs and into his bedroom, assisting you in sitting down on the bed, propped up against a mountain of pillows. You leave Jin and Yoongi downstairs, but Jimin insists on following, his hand warm against the small of your back the whole way up.

Feeling a little embarrassed at the fuss they’re making, you nonetheless soak up the chance to be at the center of their attention, Jimin linking your fingers together from the side of the bed as Taehyung rushes around, grabbing a single-use heat pack and some massage oils.

“You’ll need to turn around so your back is facing me,” Taehyung instructs, getting on the bed behind you. It’s a little awkward shifting around with three of you on the bed, and you unable to really move as freely as you’d like, but after a moment Jimin has replaced your original spot against the headboard, your knees bumping his as you sit cross-legged with Taehyung behind you. “Okay, that’s good. Just relax.”

Your shirt has a relatively low, round neck, and even though it’s not quite loose enough to push past your shoulders, Tae doesn’t want to make you take it off and risk hurting yourself further, so he just makes do, warming some oil between his fingers.

The soothing smell of lavender fills the air, and your shoulders go lax as Taehyung slips gently presses down on them with his still-dry knuckles, thumbs sliding up to hold your neck steady. As he pushes the hem down as much as he can and begins to slide his fingertips over your skin to spread the aromatic oil, you fight the urge to let your head loll back. It’s been a long time since Taehyung gave you a massage, and though you have no doubt he’d do it anytime in a heartbeat if you asked, you always felt strange approaching it. A crick in the neck was not ideal, but certainly a nice excuse to have his hands on you again.

In front of you, Jimin watches you carefully for any sight of pain. While a month ago you may have been intimidated or even put off by his intense stare, you know he’s there to make sure you’re alright, and you’ve seen him vulnerable enough to feel okay sharing this with him.

It is still a little awkward, however, and as Taehyung lets his fingers dip as low as they can between your shoulder blades, you send Jimin a crooked smile. “Do you want some popcorn?”

He scoffs warmly with a shake of his head. “If I’m bothering you…?”

You almost shake your head, sucking in a sharp breath through your nose as you fight the automatic urge. “No, you’re fine. I just don’t think me getting my neck fixed is very-” Your voice is abruptly cut off by a staccato groan punched out of you by Taehyung pressing his thumbs right into the knots on either side of the base of your neck. He crawls them up carefully but confidently, beginning to smooth out the tension, and you can’t help your eyes fluttering shut. “Very entertaining,” you finish, breathier than when you started.

“That’s where I’d have to disagree,” Jimin responds in a buttery whisper. With eyes closed, you don’t see him move, and are caught off guard by the tickle of sensation that arises on the sensitive skin of your inner ankle as he slowly sweeps a single fingertip in lazy circles around the bump of the bone. The touch isn’t particularly sexy in its location, but nevertheless feels dizzingly intimate with the knowledge of whose finger it is roaming the fine details of your body.

“I see how it is,” you manage to respond, but the fight is drained from you from both ends; Jimin at your ankles, Taehyung at the nape of your neck. Taehyung’s touch is distinctly heavier and more decisive than Jimin’s, and it becomes harder to resist lying back against him as he works at the sore muscles of your neck.

“My clients aren’t normally so chatty with someone that isn’t me,” Taehyung remarks from behind you, lightly flicking the side of your neck in playful complaint.

“Client?” you question with a pout he can’t see but can definitely hear. “Are we not even lovers, Tae?”

He hums, so low in his chest that it’s a soft growl, and his hands converge on your sternum, face coming forward to press at the side of your cheek as he hugs you from behind. Your heart rate picks up at the proximity; his lips so close to yours, but impossible to reach from the angle. “You know I can’t touch you like a lover should. Not now.”

“Would it be so bad?” you wonder aloud, even as you recall the rule that would get him kicked out should he touch you intimately. The rule wasn’t so harsh were it you to touch him, however. “I could.”

His breath comes out in a rush that tingles your jaw. “Don’t tempt me,” he warns, sitting back upright and pressing the sides of your neck to straighten you up again, “you’re injured.”

“I’m injured?” you retort, “I thought you were meant to be fixing me. You mustn’t be doing a very good job.”

This time, the sound that leaves him most certainly is a growl. His fingers dig into the dips in your upper spine with a ferocity that while measured is distinctly more authoritative. You feel manhandled into wellness, the pain malleable and easily manipulated by his touch. Your body is heavy, barely able to hold itself up, but inside you feel lighter than air, so thrilled to be at the receiving end of Taehyung’s dominance after such a long time under Jimin’s strong hand.

As if following your thoughts, Taehyung mutters out a low, “hyung?” Jimin hums in response, his fingers circling your ankle and letting the lax weight of his arm pin you to the mattress. “I want to touch her so bad.”

You let out an unfiltered moan as you hear Taehyung talk about you to the man on your other side as if you’re not even there, though his fingers never stop for a second, leaching away every last ounce of pain.

“You can’t,” Jimin replies simply.

“But you can,” Taehyung fires back. “Do you trust me?”

Your eyes open wide as you hear the hidden meaning behind his words. Jimin seems to recognise it, too, as he looks past you with lips parted in surprise. It takes him a moment, but he eventually does respond. “I trust you.”

“Get the blindfold.”

It’s clear Jimin is hesitant about letting Taehyung take control. Not the kind of resistance you’d expect he’d give someone else trying to dom him, but simply the delay of uncertainty, of inexperience. He gets up on his knees after a moment to reach into the bedside stand’s drawer, pulling out a soft black sleeping mask.

Taehyung’s hands finally slow, fingertips slipping just under the hem, fiddling with your bra straps. “Put it on, hyung.”

“Tae,” Jimin breathes, eyebrows furrowed in worry, but he goes along, slipping it over his head and adjusting it, lips pursed. You see the way his Adam’s apple bobs with a harsh swallow, his toes curling and staying tucked.

“How’s your neck?” Taehyung asks you, and in your daze at seeing Jimin gingerly submit, it takes you a second to even realise he’s addressing you. You quickly assure him it’s fine, and feel your heart race as he takes his hands off you and backs away, pulling you backwards as he does. “Lie down for us,” he commands softly.

Your breathing is elevated, and you can’t seem to calm it as you watch Taehyung in your peripheral pull up a chair to the side of the bed. His knuckles are white as he clutches the arms, but his face is darkly focused.

“You can’t fuck her with all those clothes on, hyung,” Taehyung states simply, and you can see the way Jimin’s brows lift above the blindfold.

Obediently, Jimin moves towards you, but with his vision obscured he pats around to find you, fingers running blindly up your side to seek out the lower hem of your shirt and lift it over your head. There’s something strangely exciting about Jimin being the one to disrobe you, when only Taehyung will see your naked body, and the clumsy way the older man fiddles with the zip on your jeans before slipping them off makes it feel like he’s touching you for the first time.

It takes him no time at all to unhook your bra once he finds the hinge, and soon enough your panties, the only scrap of fabric left on your body, are being tugged down your legs impatiently. Once they’re gone, however, Jimin’s hands hover uncertainly over you, awaiting further instruction.

Taehyung grins, though Jimin won’t see it, and wets his lips. “So you can be a good boy, hm? Who would’ve thought the big bad wolf was just a little puppy?”

Jimin swallows, nostrils flaring as he struggles with his own submission. He offers no answer, but Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind, sitting forward in the chair.

“Are you hard, Jimin?” The blue-haired man grits his teeth at the intentional lack of honorifics, but confirms reluctantly that he is. “Show us.”

After opening and closing his mouth, Jimin swallows hard again and his fingers pat against his waistband until he reaches the button, undoing it and dipping a hand in to release his cock. True to his word, he’s hard, the tip glossed with precum and angry red.

A wave of arousal rushes through you so strong that you clench around nothing, wanting nothing more than to push him back and take what you need yourself. But it’s fascinating seeing him like this, and you don’t want to even speak, too scared to break the spell Taehyung has somehow constructed.

The younger man just lets out a flat noise as if unimpressed. Jimin’s dick twitches as his cheeks heat in shame. “Tae,” he breathes, fingers digging into the tensed flesh of his still-clothed thighs.

“It would benefit you to give my name more respect than that. I’m not your boyfriend now, not your pet. I’m your boss. I say what you can and cannot do. So what do you say to me?”

Jimin’s lips are parted, a pretty pink that trembles if you look closely enough. He stays silent for a moment, thinking it through. “Mister Kim,” he says, going so far as to duck his head shallowly in an imitation of a bow.

A dark smirk tugs at Taehyung’s lips. “I like that,” he decides, “good boy. Why don’t you touch our girl, then? She’s arching so nicely for you, Jimin, I think she wants to feel you on her pretty little tits.”

Your eyes couldn’t be wider if you tried, fingers twisted harshly in the bedsheets on either side of you. It’s true, your back hitching off the mattress in need. Truth be told, you’re shivering in the desire to feel him anywhere, but the thought of him flicking at your sensitive nipples has you letting out a shaky whimper.

It’s not Jimin’s hands that greet you, however. Instead, he uses them to catch his fall when he hangs forward, face burying in the soft skin close to your right hip. You can feel the hard tip of his nose, the tickle of his eyelashes, and the plush warmth of his lips.

You tremble beneath him at the way his breath heats your naked skin in pants. Jimin navigates higher with his nose, running it over you, lips dragging against you just enough for you to catch scrapes of his bottom teeth occasionally as he works from left to right, seeking out the swell of your breasts.

It’s not long before he crawls high enough, but it feels like an eternity of absence has been broken when it’s not his fingers but his hot, wet mouth that closes over your nipple, sucking it in like a man starved.

You gasp at the sudden bloom of sensation, a moan getting clogged in your throat. Once Jimin reaches you, you can feel the confidence of his usual dom persona return in the intense way he laps and nipples at the stiffening peak, but the hastened breaths that have his chest heaving above you are entirely due to Taehyung’s invisible grasp on the both of you.

It’s not until Jimin fastens his teeth around your nipple and tugs once, harsh enough to make you keen and grab at his shoulders, that he moves to the other side, repeating the previous treatment with twice the hunger and desperation as before.

“Mm, atta boy,” Taehyung praises in a borderline sarcastic drawl. Jimin huffs through his noise noisily against you as he places sloppy kisses on the pebbled skin around your nipple, and your eyes roll back at the overwhelming situation you’ve found yourself in. There’s something unbelievably obscene about being at the whim of Jimin touch but Taehyung’s command, of hearing and seeing and feeling Jimin be just as affected by Tae as you are.

Jimin’s still mostly dressed, but you can feel the heat radiating from his unsheathed cock as it presses against your leg, and you will Taehyung to demand Jimin fuck you, feeling out of your mind with need.

“You want to taste her somewhere else, don’t you?” Taehyung asks after a few moments of ecstasy. Jimin groans lowly against you, and you feel his hair tickle your breast as he nods. Taehyung’s voice hardens. “That’s a shame. On your back, Jimin. Clothes off.”

You and Jimin whine in unison as you’re parted again, but the latter wastes no time in undressing, throwing his shirt, pants and underwear away blindly, almost hitting Taehyung with them.

Taehyung lets out a cheeky smile as he ducks out of the way, before steeling his expression again and standing up to join you at the bed. You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch as Jimin lies down beside you, head propped up on the pillows.

Making him wait in silence and darkness for a moment long enough to make Jimin hold back another whine with a bit lip, Taehyung suddenly reaches out and rakes his nails up Jimin’s chest from his lower stomach to his collarbones, flicking his nipples on the way.

Jimin hisses and almost comes clean off the mattress, arms flying down, but Taehyung catches him at the wrists and tugs his arms up with a roughness that takes Jimin by surprise, leaving him pinned open with reddening lines across his torso.

“Fuck,” he curses, head thrashing back and forth once in frustration. He looks overwhelmed already, though you’re beginning to suspect this is his first time subbing, at least in many years. “T- Mister Kim, Mister Kim, please.”

“Y/n’s going to take what she wants now, Jimin,” Taehyung instructs gruffly, sending you an expectant gaze for you to get up, “and you’re going to give it all to her. Isn’t that right?”

“Please,” Jimin repeats brokenly, fingers curling in the open air as Taehyung holds his wrists up.

Heart racing violently in your chest, you find yourself straddling Jimin with barely-restrained excitement. His cock is lying against his lower abdomen, leaking steadily, and the moment you reach out and take it in your hand he lets out a low, keening sob, thighs lifting as if to curl in on himself.

“Colour, Jimin,” Taehyung demands, loosening his hold on the man’s wrists briefly.

Jimin lets out a frustrated whine, foot stomping against the mattress. He’s panting like he’s run a marathon, even with your hand still on him, and it almost seems like he’s about to end the scene with the pained look on his face. “Dammit, green. Fuck.”

Taehyung pauses for a moment, but suddenly a booming laugh is leaving him as he stares down at the figure on the bed below him, with restrained arms hanging uselessly in the air. “Oh, you dirty fucking boy,” he gushes, bending down to nip at the already-swollen flesh of Jimin’s lips, making the older boy whimper, “you love this, don’t you?”

Shaking his head, Jimin can’t hide the way blood rushes to his cheeks, tinging his face and neck pink as his cock pulses in your grip. It encourages you to move again, and you lean down to spit on it, hearing him hiccup wetly at the feeling of it before you’re jerking him off steadily to spread the slick around.

As much as he tries, Jimin can only hold back the sounds of pleasure for so long, and by the time you’re straddling him, lining him up at your entrance, his chest is heaving and every breath out is tinged in a moan. He all but trembles in anticipation as his tip bumps against you, and you suck in a single slow breath to prepare yourself before you’re sitting on his cock, feeling it part your walls deep inside.

Jimin shudders, and his arms, still in Taehyung’s grip, tug towards his own face to cover it, fingers curling into claws at the flood of sensation.

“Is it good?” Taehyung asks rhetorically, allowing Jimin to pull his hands over his face before cruelly spreading them wide again, leaning down until their noses touch, voice dipping to a gruff whisper, thick with arousal. “You don’t get to hide from us.”

You’re propping yourself up with one hand on Jimin’s heated chest and another on the mattress, letting yourself adjust to the intrusion, and you see the way his lips tremble every time you clench around him.

Though it hasn’t really been that long, you feel the stretch more than usual, especially without the foreplay involving any fingering. But, if you’re honest with yourself, you wouldn’t want it any other way.

There’s something so divine about rocking your hips against him and having his cock open you up through your own movements. You control the pace despite the whines and weak growls of complaint, and you take your time with it. While Jimin might prefer more friction, more motion, you’re enjoying the deep grind, his pelvis pressed to your clit every time you lean forward.

You look up from him, at Taehyung holding him down for you. His hair is messy, but no more than before, and he’s still fully dressed. His eyes are dark with lust and glimmering with excitement, and once he feels your gaze he looks up at you sharply. Your heart jumps, and you squeeze unintentionally around Jimin, making him groan.

Still looking at Taehyung, however, at his sculpted lips, strong gaze and hooded lids, you’re overwhelmed with the urge to lean forward and kiss him. It’s like a string is tied between the two of you, being cranked tighter and tighter. It would be so easy just to give in and-

“Don’t be mean, Y/n. Jimin is being good for us.” Taehyung grins at you, teeth glinting. “Make him come.”

Jimin’s chest hitches, and his hips rock shallowly up at you, unable to get the momentum to do much more. Still, it causes him to drag against your walls, and the pleasure shoots up your core at the feeling. Inspired by both your own pleasure and the need to please the two men with you, you steel your thighs and begin to ride Jimin in earnest.

It’s harder than you expect to keep a rhythm up. Every time you get a good downstroke that reaches your g-spot, it makes your legs tremble, and before long your thighs begin to ache. Nonetheless, you’re determined as you watch Jimin’s blindfolded face contort in pleasure, and you shift your position and bounce harder.

In the back of your mind, you hear Taehyung praise you, but you barely spare him a glance, chest lowering so that you can put all your energy into the tight motion of your hips. Your fingers dig into Jimin’s shoulder, and his muscles tense beneath them as he tries to reach out for you.

Every time he’s reminded of the grip Taehyung has on his arms, Jimin thrashes just a little beneath you, but his cock just keeps on getting stiffer inside you, and as you suck in harsh lungfuls of air, you know he’s getting close.

The sounds that leave his parted lips are nothing short of pornographic, losing all sense of shame or hesitation as he approaches that peak.

You fight off your own orgasm, tightening around Jimin as you try and hold back and distract yourself with him. You’re losing stamina quickly, the rhythm falling apart into unsteady jerks and bounces.

Taehyung watches you carefully, before bending down again and biting right into the plush flesh of Jimin’s cheek, addressing him only after he soothes the blooming red with his tongue. “Why don’t you return the favour and fuck her a little, my good boy?”

Jimin sobs, and his abs tighten as he attempts to get up, but Taehyung just tuts, instructing him to do it right where he is. Clearly too far gone to protest, you feel Jimin prop his feet up against the mattress with a shaky sniff. That’s your only warning before he makes full use of his core strength to piston his hips up into you with toe-curling speed, purely seeking out his own end.

You cry out, knees buckling at the first thrust, and your chin hits his shoulder awkwardly, almost biting your own tongue. Clutching at his arms, you attempt to hold yourself up enough not to bear your dead weight on him, and go along for the ride.

Even from his unwieldy position, Jimin manages far better than you did, and his his moans quickly raise in pitch and shorten in length, until he’s whimpering in desperate yips, thrusting up into you with such ferocity that your teeth chatter.

He’s deep inside you, deeper than he’s been before, and your eyes begin to well at your own impending orgasm.

Closer than you, however, Jimin freezes for a split second before he’s shuddering violently and spurting inside you. Taehyung holds onto him for a moment longer before he releases his wrists, and suddenly you’re being caged in by Jimin, his arms holding you flush against his heated torso as he grinds his cum into you, still blindfolded and barely able to catch a breath.

It’s this rocking motion that tips you over the edge, your clit gaining enough friction to break the dam, and you sob hard as the pleasure wracks through you. There isn’t a single inch of space between you and Jimin, and just as you think you’re in pure ecstasy, you feel Taehyung’s hand tangle in your hair, stroking it as his lips brush the shell of your ear with praises intended for the two of you.

Your face is wet and your body is trembling uncontrollably as you let your climax run through you, and when it fades you feel hollowed out, boneless.

Jimin is clearly the same, because he quite contentedly lets you lie atop him, panting just as hard as you are. His eyes remain closed long after Taehyung slips the blindfold off, pressing kisses to Jimin’s eyelids and the flush on his cheeks.

After a sweet eternity, you gather enough energy to roll off Jimin and sit up, separating yourself from him. He sighs out weakly, and you’re shocked to see just how drained he seems. For a moment, your heart stutters, but as you reach out and grab his hand, matching Taehyung who has his other one sandwiched between his, a drunken smile stretches across Jimin’s face.

“What the fuck?” he asks breathily, chuckling slightly despite his exhaustion. A single eye cracks open, looks up at the two of you with a warm gaze, before slipping shut again. “Oh my god, I can’t believe… I can’t believe that.”

“Can’t believe you liked it?” Taehyung questions, and even after the scene you hear a tinge of nervousness in his tone.

“God, Tae, I think I get it now,” Jimin gushes, voice lowering into a sleepy slur, “it’s- that was fun.”

Taehyung beams, squeezing Jimin’s hand fondly.

Jimin sighs in bliss. “And next time I’m going to edge you so much you cry, Mister Kim.”

The smile drops off Taehyung’s face in an instant. “Hey! That’s not fair. I let you come.”

Whatever protest Jimin would normally fire back is dissolved in his post-orgasm bliss. Instead, he just hums sweetly, entirely unbothered by the sticky mess his lower torso has become.

“Come on,” you jibe softly, feeling your own skin growing tacky, “let’s get you in the shower.”

Jimin groans at the thought of standing up, but Taehyung is having none of it, digging his hands under Jimin’s back to lever him up like a crowbar. “Yeah, we’re not gonna stop taking care of you just because you busted a nut, asshole. Get up and let me clean your dick like the good dom I am.”

Though Jimin huffs all the way to the shower, as the two of you clean him up, dry him off and dress him in a pair of Taehyung’s sweats and a baggy shirt, his eyes never stop gleaming for a second, not-so-secretly enjoying every minute of it.

The three of you spend an hour or so post-shower chilling in Taehyung’s room before hunger overcomes you one at a time. You’ve certainly missed lunch, but there is plenty still left in the fridge, and Jimin takes on the duty of reheating it as a silent thank you for the scene.

He’s quieter than usual, and you know it has to do with the intensity of it, at least for him. It was a big deal, actually submitting to another, and both you and Taehyung keep a close eye on him, filling the silence between the two of you so he doesn’t feel the need to exert himself, but keeping him close nonetheless.

At one point, Jimin goes upstairs to take a nap, insisting he’s fine on his own, and Namjoon and Hoseok return inside from where they’d been having a picnic of sorts (or perhaps fucking on the lawn, though they refuse to deny nor confirm your teasing accusation). The four of you put on a random reality show you’d been meaning to watch, and it isn’t long before Jungkook is joining you too, piling on the couch between the two subtle lovebirds. When Jin comes down, he half-watches from the kitchen, preparing some side dishes for dinner, but Yoongi is nowhere to be seen.

Your mind doesn’t linger on the thought for long, getting distracted by the dating show that somehow is just as ridiculous as the one you’re on, and you let the time slip by as you watch episode after episode. It’s nice to rest up, aching a little bit in a new place than before, but satisfied.

When Yoongi comes down, you’re so caught up watching television that you don’t even see him. It’s not until he cuts into your line of sight and holds out a decisive hand that you blink into focus and notice his presence.

“Y/n. A minute.”

You stare at him for another minute, brain not catching up. Yoongi huffs and bends down, grabbing onto your hand and tugging you up off the couch.

The others stare at you in bewilderment, and you return the confused gaze over your shoulder as he tug you out of the room.

Stumbling through the hallway, you furrow your eyebrows as he leads you up the stairs, almost frantic in his pace.

Arriving at your own door, he throws it open and pulls you inside and shuts it behind you. Your brain catches up, and you let out an uncertain laugh. “Yoongi, you already did your prompt, you don’t have to-”

You’re cut off by a pair of lips on yours.

Yoongi’s body knocks you back and pins you firmly to the door as his mouth slants against yours. Both hands cupping your face, he kisses you like there’s no tomorrow, tongue darting out slightly to flick at your lips.

You let out a surprised moan that gets entirely swallowed by him, knees weak and held up only by his hold. Frantic, hurried, his kisses convey a thousand praises, and your mind whirls with the sudden passion.

This close, you can smell the musk of his cologne. It dizzies you, and you feel as if his hands on your cheeks and his lips on yours are the only thing anchoring you to the world. They move against you, exploring your mouth with a desperate sweetness. You can’t wrap your head around it, can’t catch up, and so you let yourself drown in it instead, clasping at the fabric of Yoongi’s shirt to hold yourself steady.

When you finally part, he rips himself away with dazed eyes, pupils blown with desire. “Y/n,” he breathes, staring at you in wonder as if for the first time. He steps back again, after a moment, touching his swollen lips with a disbelieving smile. “I really tried, you know.”

You frown in confusion, stepping forward to get closer again. “Tried what? Yoongi, I don’t understand.”

“I tried not to fall in love with you like the rest.”

You have no words, mouth hanging open. Before you can think of anything to say, he’s moving past you and letting himself out of your room, the door half-ajar as his footsteps recede into silence.

You stay up in your room for what must be hours, replaying his words over and over in your head, lips tingling.

You miss dinner that way, too occupied in your own thoughts to even notice the knock at your door. Even as the sky darkens outside your window, you feel too wired to sleep, running through every single interaction you’ve ever had with Yoongi. Reading them in every possible way you could.

Working out if you would be telling the truth to say it back.

Your mind runs in circles, unable to land on a single answer, on a single perspective or truth or belief.

Late into the night, and further to the early hours of the morning, you force yourself to think about every other member in the house, too. About how they treat you, how kind they are to you, the way they look at you.

About the way your heart races when you’re around them, even as they comfort you with their presence alone.

You manage to fall asleep shortly before sunrise, eyes aching and body exhausted, every line of thinking and internal interrogation whittled down to a single two words.

I’m fucked.

[the-final-sif]

Okay, so I think I’ve got a solid timeline of events for villain!Katsuki

Katsuki leaves UA just before the provisional license exam, he’s at the point where he no longer things the hero system can be fixed without outside intervention. He’s done with how the media acts, he’s done with the blame being shifted to victims based on their quirks, and he’s done with the lies he’s been fed all his life.

Prior to this he started researching and planning what actual change would look like and require.

He meets up with Dabi, who’d only let the rest of the league know about the bet a few days prior. He was curious if Katsuki would keep his word or not. Dabi prods Katsuki gently, saying he knew the kid took honestly seriously but he’s still kinda surprised to see him go this far over a bet. Katsuki replies explaining it’s more than the bet. He talks about what he’s seen, and the failure of hero society to change. It’s more than enough to convince Dabi.

Dabi brings him to a secure location, then relays information to Shigaraki. Shigaraki is hesitant, he’s surprised Katsuki came back to them, but when Katsuki explains his side of things, and with Dabi vouching for him, Shigaraki decides to let him in. He can understand what it’s like to fall for hero society. He did for awhile too. Katsuki just needed more time on his own to realize that.

There’s an introduction period, the league is still figuring themselves out and most of them are hesitant to trust Katsuki. It’s about a week before he’s properly reintroduced to everyone and gets the sense that they’re not headed in any particular direction.

After that week, Katsuki decides “fuck that, I’m going to do shit, y'all are coming along” and since Shigaraki doesn’t really have anything better in mind, he decides to go along with Katsuki’s plans.

UA started panicking as soon as they realized Katsuki was gone, but nobody really knows what happened to him yet. Since he took all his stuff with him, all signs point to him having run away.

Izuku refuses to believe that, and most of the class holds out hope for awhile, but as no evidence turns up, more of them start to think it might be true and start discovering the amount of harassment and guilt he was facing.

There’s about a month and a half period in which Katsuki focuses on getting the league in shape. During this period, they do a forcible take over of the Shie Hassaikai.

Overhaul is killed, Eri goes under Katsuki’s care, and the league is established as a much more powerful force.

The Hero Commission is starting to get nervous, but not overly so. Not yet.

After this month and a half, Katsuki makes his first public appearance as a villain.

He’s in an updated version of his costume, most of it has stayed the same, but he’s added what looks like muzzle to the costume that covers his mouth. The muzzle actually functions as face shield/oxygen system so he can move at much faster speeds safely.

Katsuki’s villain debut is a full scale attack by the league on the Hero Commission directly. An event meant that the Hero Commission had gathered in a relatively accessible location, and the villains take advantage.

Importantly, Katsuki is enforcing a policy of limiting needless harm or deaths, because it ruins their message. The league reluctantly agrees, so they’re being a bit more careful than they were before. However, they’ve still got a hit list for this party.

The list consists of officials who they have confirmation deliberately manipulated polices or actions of heroes at the cost of people’s lives, all for some private gain. They do a lot of damage, and manage to kill 7 people on their list.

Katsuki’s first kill happens here. Previously, he’d managed to defeat Overhaul, but wasn’t quite able to kill him. He just wasn’t ready.

Shigaraki took care of it for him, and told him it was fine if he needed time to learn to kill. He was kind and understanding about it in a way that was genuinely weird to Katsuki. Not only because this was all about murder, but it was the first time in his life that he failed and an adult supported him rather than punishing him for his mistake.

At this event, one of the people he takes down tries to appeal to him by offering him a position as a hero to save themselves, and that pushes him over the line. He ends it quickly.

The league escape afterwards, and footage plus eyewitnesses confirm Katsuki was there, and he didn’t say a word to anyone he attacked.

UA, the Hero Commission, and the media collectively assume / sell the story of him having been brainwashed. It’s the only thing that doesn’t make them look horrible.

Aizawa has been weighed down by a lot of guilt during all of this. He should’ve done more, should’ve reached out, but he’d been waiting for Katsuki to come to him. He’s tried to find Katsuki, but Katsuki has purposefully avoided facing him in battle as Aizawa is one of the few people he doesn’t feel like he could hurt or allow one of the other villains to hurt.

The attacks start getting frequent over the course of another month, primarily targeting the people behind the scenes of the heroic’s system, with a lot of other targets of corruption along the way.

On his third attack, Katsuki has his first run in with Izuku, the first of any of his classmates to face him in battle.

Katsuki refuses to speak a word to him, despite the fact Izuku heard him giving directions to Toga, and the two clash.

Katsuki manages to pull ahead in their fight, but he’s distracted from their fight by someone caught in the crossfire. He diverts course to protect them. Izuku was so hyperfocused on Katsuki he didn’t notice the person. It throws him off enough that Katsuki is able to win their fight complete his goal.

After their clash, Izuku’s finally realized Katsuki isn’t brainwashed. Given what happened, he can only assume it really is Kacchan making all these choices, which leads him to reflect on why.

 Between slowly uncovering what Katsuki was suffering through, and watching Katsuki’s actions and their very real impact, Izuku finds himself struggling with the idea of heroes as well. Most of Class 1-A and society as a whole really are.

Shouto & Izuku talk, and Izuku confirms that it really is Katsuki. Not a brainwashed version of him.

At the end of their conversation, Shouto assumes that because it’s really Katsuki, they’re gonna go join him. He defects, and is a bit surprised when Izuku doesn’t follow him right away.

Dabi almost has a heart attack over this, but he can’t really judge.

Shouto is accepted into the league after he and Katsuki talk and he apologizes for not having done anything. Katsuki doesn’t blame him for it, as he understands Shouto had no real sense of what was okay.

Eri gains a new older brother, and she could not be more delighted.

During this period, after the first attack, Hawks was sent in to infiltrate the league. Katsuki can smell the commission on him from a mile away, but tells Dabi to kind of let Hawks in anyways.

The league begins slowly working Hawks out of the Commissions control, before finally after about three months, Hawks realizes how shitty they are and defects properly.

A big part of this happens after Hawks finally comes to terms with the fact that Katsuki isn’t brainwashed, and after Hawks meets Eri and realizes how happy and safe she is with her new family vs how he felt at that age with the Commission.

By the end of that three months, a number of other class 1-A kids and a few kids from 1-B have dropped out of the hero course, or in some cases, UA entirely. The public at large has started to become more disconnected from the hero system as they start to see some of it’s major flaws. The Commission comes under more and more questioning and is seriously losing power.

During this same time, you’d expect to see an increase in crime, but you actually see the opposite.

Katsuki has been very careful and forged an alliance with the MLA such that they’ve been able to crack down on certain types of crime (domestic violence, quirk kidnappings, sexual assaults, etc) while also steadily funneling money into getting social services in theses areas.

This means that you start to see less crime, people feeling safer and more secure, even as the hero commission and system is crumbling.

All of this comes together after a year or two of solid in the form of the government submitting to a major reform driven by figure heads planted by the MLA, but only after the league manages to eliminate the last key figures standing in their way.

Since so many heroes have either fallen from grace, stepped back from the system, or been killed in certain cases, Izuku ended up as an unwilling symbol of peace due to his connection to Katsuki.

Izuku is tasked by what’s left of the heroics system with stopping Katsuki from killing the final major figure whose all that’s standing in the way of the reform.

Izuku, in the end, makes the active choice to step aside, giving Katsuki the key he was given to the room so Katsuki can get to the person to kill them.

Izuku finally decided that he’s had enough of this too, and he’s done defending a broken system based on ingrained ideals that don’t add up.

Aizawa is watching inside the room up in the rafters, he’s stayed a hero of sorts but still functions like he did before.

Inside the room, Aizawa had the chance to cancel Katsuki’s quirk and stop him from killing the person. Instead, he chose to close his eyes and let Katsuki go through with it.

Katsuki looks up to where Aizawa is once it’s done, and Aizawa realizes he knew he was there the entire time. He hops down out into the open and speaks plainly as he always did.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he can really say. There’s so much he’s sorry for. For not speaking up. For letting Katsuki be put through so much. For letting him be driven to this.

Katsuki looks at him for a long, long moment, before he finally looks away and shrugs his shoulders. For the very first time in years, he speaks to a hero. To the only hero who ever tried for him, even if it wasn’t enough.

“S'okay. The problem was bigger than you every could’ve fixed.”

“I should’ve tried. I should’ve done more.”

Again, Katsuki needs a moment to consider that.

“Yeah. Probably.”

There’s silence for a few moments, and then Katsuki’s radio crackles to life. Dabi’s calling him back.

They share one more glance, and Katsuki turns on his heel and walks out.

Aizawa watches him go. There’s nothing else for him to do. His right to change this story ended when he failed to speak up all those years ago.

[floorbe]

“Together” Kiyotaka Ishimaru x Reader

Warnings: depressed and su!cial thoughts, implications of se!f harm, angst, hurt/comfort, happy-ish ending 

Summary: Taka finds you at your worst. 

Pairing: Kiyotaka Ishimaru x GN!reader, could be seen as romantic or platonic

Fandom: Danganronpa

Word count: 1,590

You’ve lost count of how long you’ve been here, sitting on the floor beside your bed, staring at nothing. How long had the lights been off; how long had you been stuck watching the inky blackness in place of your room? The silence is deafening, complimentary to the blindness of the dark. You hear only the sound of your heartbeat echoing throughout your body, as if mocking the fact that you’re still alive; that you still have to suffer through your dumb, pathetic little life.

It’d be so easy, too. It’d be so, so easy to get up, to go outside and finish what you’d been forced into starting. But the heavy ache in your bones prevents you yet again, forcing you to listen to the rush of your blood as you stare into the dark void. Forcing you to stay where no one wants you. Selfish, your mind hisses, selfish, selfish for forcing everyone to deal with you when you know they’d be happier without you. 

There’s a knock on your door before you can mull on the thought. It doesn’t matter, you decide; if you don’t say anything they’ll go away under the assumption that you’re asleep. Your mind tells you this as if you’d considered answering in the first place. 

There’s another knock. You feel a thread of anger unravel in your chest at the annoying insistence. Why can’t people understand that you don’t want to see them? Why do you constantly have to put on a facade to please other people because they’re too stubborn to allow you to rot here like you want to? 

There’s another knock, and you actually clench your fists at this one. Any movement is better than none, you try to reason, though it’s the fact that you had to move at all because some stupid, annoying, dense-

“Y/N?”

...It’s Taka. Of course It’s Taka.

The person who you most don’t want to see you in this state, and now he’s knocking at your door. Great. Wonderful, in fact. What even drove him to come here in the first place? You vaguely remember a few dings coming from your phone a while ago before you’d turned it off, throwing it across the room in frustration at the incessant noise. Still, you’ve neglected to answer texts for longer than this without any worry from anyone.

“Y/N, I’m going to come in in a moment, if that’s okay.” 

It’s not okay, actually, but you have no energy to say otherwise, and your tongue feels like lead in your mouth anyway, silencing any other motive. Your hand twitches as you consider moving positions to actually feign sleep, readying itself to hoist you onto the bed. You instead slump further back against the bed frame. Who cares if he sees you like this? 

You! your mind screams at you futilely, you care, you idiot! But it doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters anymore. If he sees you like this, then fine. You’re exhausted from hiding it and irritated that you feel like you have to in the first place because someone else invaded your space. Someone interrupted you in your privacy, and you have to collect yourself? Fuck that. You’re tired of heeding to other people because they can’t take a hint. 

A sudden light cracks through the blackness you’d been enveloped in, and it’s only then that you realize just how much your head aches. You squeeze your eyes shut as the light disrupts your thoughts, forcing it’s way into your unused eyes and sending a stab of pain through your already pounding head. You faintly hear a light gasp, and a quick shuffle of footsteps before the light fades. 

“A-are you okay?” you hear him murmur, and his voice travels across the room as you slide your eyes open to greet the pitch darkness again. You swallow thickly as you mull over a response, already feeling a pang of guilt for forcing him to see you like this despite any previous annoyance. He’s worried, he doesn’t deserve to see you like this because of that. A lamp flickers on from your bedside table, but it quickly dims as he switches it to its lowest setting. You watch his boots come into view before he sits down in front of you, biting his lip as his eyes flick over your form, “You-... you weren’t answering my texts, and you seemed off today, s-so I... I got worried...” 

“It’s fine,” you mutter, averting your gaze from his as your mouth twitches into a scowl. But it’s not fine, it’s never been fine, and it’s obvious from the way your eyes are sunken, how your cheeks are irritated from the tears that’d long since dried, how your arms are littered from scratches that he’s seemingly finally realizing aren’t actually from you being clumsy like you’d preached for months. You watch him take in your state, and you don’t fail to notice how his breath hitches, and how his eyes gain a new shine of unshed tears as he finally deciphers your feelings after lingering on your freshly battered arms. 

You can see him bite his lip as his hands twitch, as if considering something in his head. He seems to decide to take the risk, because the next thing you know he’s gently grasping your shoulders and pulling you forward. You slump forward into him like a rag doll, and you can feel the weight of his arms as he coils them around you tightly. His mouth presses into your shoulder, and you can just barely feel him trembling. 

“I... I want you here,” he settles on, voice breaking as he intakes sharply. You don’t ask how he knows, even if you want to out of the sudden anger that sparks inside you. How does he know how you feel? How does he suddenly know everything when you’ve said nothing? But you know how, because it’s written on your body, it’s been written on your body. It’s been written in how your gaze lingers on that steep edge just a moment too long, how you’ve glared at yourself in mirrors when you thought nobody was looking, how you’ve slowly distanced yourself from everyone around you... It’s just that he’s only now putting the pieces together. 

Your vision blurs, and before you can comprehend it there are tears sliding down your face. You feel your throat start to close as you hiccup on air, squeezing your eyes shut as you clench your fists still hanging by your side. “Why?” it tumbles from your lips before you can think, and with it comes the rest of the sobs you’ve been unknowingly holding back. 

He tightens his grip on you as you finally latch back onto him, burying your face in his shoulder as you shake violently. “B-because I care about you,” he sobs out, voice wavering. “I-I love o-our study sessions, and our movie nights, a-and-” his voice breaks off as you let out a loud sob, and he bawls into your shoulder. 

“I l-love talking t-to you, a-and- and- I-” he cuts off again as you press your face further into his uniform, shuddering. You feel your chest tighten at his reassurances, and you bite your lip harshly to try and collect yourself. The doubts that had seemed so solid, so real and immediate before, weaken just slightly. It’s what you needed to hear: Taka telling you once again that you’re important to him.

And then you apologize to him through your tearful voice. You apologize for him walking in on you like this, for making him have to console you, Hell, for having these feelings at all- he doesn’t deserve to put up with this- with you. He denies all of it, shaking his head firmly against your shirt as he assures you through his tears that it’s okay, it’s okay, he’s here for you, now; you don’t have to hide because he’s not leaving. 

“W-we’re together,” he tells you, his voice struggling to come out steady as he pulls back to look into your eyes, “W-we- we’ve been th-through so much t-together, a-and I’m not leaving.” His eyebrows are furrowed deeply, his lip trembling as he tightens his grip on your shirt, his eyes shimmering with tears as they roll down his face. 

They’re words you didn’t know you needed to hear; reassurances that you never thought you deserved in the first place. You’d always reminded yourself that eventually everyone would leave, that he’d leave, once you got too much to handle, or once they found someone better, someone to replace you. But sitting here, feeling Taka’s fingers dig into your arms and seeing his tear stained cheeks, for once you think you can believe him. And you finally think you understand that he needs you just as much as you need him, because if he didn’t he wouldn’t be here right now, checking in on you, cradling you in his arms, crying for you. 

It brings a new wave of tears to your eyes, and you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut as you choke out sobs. You lurch forward to cling to him again, and he easily returns the close embrace as you both collapse against each other once again. It’s not fine, you decide, but being here with you and Taka tucked into each other makes everything seem manageable until it is fine, because at least you’re together in this. Just like you always have been, just as you always will be.

[sopafa]

Paraplegic Douxie! P3

Previous part / Next one

Douxie started drowning.

It was past lunchtime and Archie was alone in the room without a soul around to do something. He familiar was down asleep when he felt it, the body on where he was resting started moving and some gags were produced by his human troat. Archibald woke immediately, and the horror surrounded him when he saw Douxie, with his eyes still closed drowning in front of your eyes.

Some muscular spams moved his abdomen, and the tube inside his mouth made difficult his breathing. Archie didn't think it twice and punched the bottom of the wall to call for assistance, the dragon did everything to stay calm while his familiar couldn't breathe, and with some tears in his eyes, he screamed with all the force of his longs to Barbara, hoping that she could do something.

It was a matter of seconds for a couple of doctors to rush into the room, that Archie barely had time to hide behind the door.

On the nurse halfway, Barbara was talking with her son and the trollhunters team about the situation. It has been four days, and yet the wizard hadn't woke. That's when he heard the commotion and turned around to see her partners running into Douxie's room. Jim saw the color drown from his mother's face and before giving him time to react, she was already running to the Wizard's habitation.

"Oh, no..." Was everything that Jim said.

====

The intubation was the worst thing that Douxie had ever experienced. He couldn't breathe, his head was spinning, and his body felt dizzy, his eyelids felt like he had a pair of weights dangling from, and then nausea.

Luckily, some good soul removed the tube from his trachea, so he was able to breathe again. The bad part is that his body had tried to expulse the tube by himself, so the accumulation of gags did their work and, before he even knew it, he was already cover in vomit.

His body retched making his abdomen hurt, but Douxie had no strength to even move his face to avoid slop more liquid over him. A pair of hands ran fast to his face to clean him right away. Douxie made his major effort to look at them, but he was so tired, that a simple hum was the only he achieved babble before starting throwing up again.

He felt miserable, he didn't want that anybody saw him like this. He felt shame, he had probably stained the person next to him with his body fluids and he wasn't even able to look at them in the eyes.

"It's okay- it's okay." A soft voice said just on his side. It was comforting and calm.

A wet towel was gently pressed on his face and began to wipe him, while more relaxing comments were spoken by that calming voice. He tried to look again, it took him a couple of minutes, and an insane amount of will, to finally open his eyes, but after a few fail tries, he finally succeeded. That hair and that eyes could only belong to one person.

Ms. Lake, he tried to pronounce, but the only thing that came out of him was a groan.

As he expected, the bedsheets and part of Ms. Lake's uniform were covered in puke, but the doctor didn't seem to care, she was still looking at him with that warm smile.

"How are you feeling?" Barbara removed some hair from his face. "You had a long surgery, and it looks that the anesthesia didn't make you feel very well".

"'R-" The wizard tried to call for his familiar.

"He's okay. He's in here, like the rest."

Douxie fought to not close his eyes.

Maybe he was exhausted, maybe it was the drugs, but he could not keep himself awake for more time.

Once the doctors were out of the room, and only the Trollhunter's mother and the familiar were in, they share a warm smile in silence. The beeps of the monitors and the numbers on the screen showed that Douxie was stable, and his heart race was normal.

"He is going to be fine." Barbara said petting the cat.

He is going to be fine.

====

"Douxie's body was rejecting the intubation" Barb explained to the team a couple of hours later.

"That's something bad?" Toby was afraid to ask, but nobody else had the courage to.

Instead of bad news, a smile grown on the woman's lips before she started talking again.

"Actually, it's completely the opposite, Tobias. When the body rejects the help of the breathing tube, is because it can do it alone, so the tube isn't helping anymore, and it's treated as an intruder. We kept the tube to compensate for the right lung collapse, Douxie's lungs needed help doing their work, but it seems that they are doing better know"

"So, he is fine now?" Steve questioned with hope.

Barbara shook his head "He is better, but he still needs time".

====

When Douxie woke up for the second time, two days after, the analgesics were almost done. The sheets of the bed, as his gown, had been changed, at least, and his low groans captured the attention of both medics that were talking in the room.

Barbara rushed to his side and took his hand. With her motherhood aura, she looked at him and asked:

"How are you feeling?".

It took a moment for to Douxie realize where he was, and still, he tried to sit up. A big mistake, because of the moment he moved, his chest ached like hell. With a low groan, he put a hand to the place that hurt while Barbara helped him to lie down.

"Easy," She said before he tried to straighten again. "You have 3 broken ribs and had a collapsed lung. You really scared the guys out there" The second doctor -a male that Douxie didn't even care to read his name- stayed on his place a few steps of the door.

Hisirdoux didn't even try to move anymore. Instead, he sighed and asked how the rest was doing. Barbara rolled her eyes before telling him "They are fine, they had already received medical assistance, no one else is hurt... bad hurt" she corrected herself, and told him that he has been asleep for almost six days.

Douxie did not know how to react.

On a hand, it was not the first time he slept for days after a fight. On the other, it was the first time that that happened to him after meeting the Guardians of Arcadia, and he hasn't had the opportunity to tell them that fact.

Douxie disconnected himself for a moment, thinking about that. Should he told the rest that it didn't matter and was a collateral effect of using a lot of his magic? Or- wait, had he used a lot of magic on the battle? He didn't remember.

Hisirdoux sank deeper into his thoughts before he realized it. It was something simple, almost imperceptible, but he tried to accommodate under the sheets. The problem was that he couldn't.

He looked at his feet.

Barbara notices that and removed her hand from Douxie's. The redhaired ma'am looked concerned to her companion, both medics shared a serious look. But Douxie didn't even realize it.

The wizard was still looking at the blanket, there was something off.

He tried to move his fingers, but nothing.

His feet, same.

Slowly the color of his face faded, and his breathing started cracking.

His hands became fists.

"Douxie..." Barbaria tried to start.

"I- I don't" Jim's mother's heartbreak with the boy's voice. "I don't feel my legs"

Hisirdoux looked at Barbara with fear and terror in his eyes, she could see his body shaking and his voice hung by a thread.

Barbara didn't knew how to told him. She was supposed to be the one that told him the truth, but at that moment, she couldn't do it. She tried to act professional, and serious, but she couldn't because in front of her eyes there were nothing more than a poor scared child with no family, holding his sobs and asking her for help, because he couldn't feel his legs.

"Hisirdoux" Dr. Velazques approached the bed. "You suffered a very complicated accident. You fell for over 100 feets, to a car's hood. On the impact, you broke 3 ribs that occasionated the lung collapse. Also, you have some other injuries caused by the same fall, like a twisted wrist, a slight concussion, and a fracture on your spinal discs."

"A fracture? So it is not broken?" Velazques nodded, a sigh of relief was expulsed by Douxie's mouth.

"Unfortunately-" The blue-haired man looked at the doctor again. "A fracture on that zone causes irremediable damage to the nervous system. Your spinal cord was compromised, and we had to make surgery to stabilize it."

"It is fine now, right?"

"After we embed metallic bars to your spine. Yeah."

"But, why I can't feel my-"

Barbara took Douxie's hand.

"I do not think that you are understanding. Hisirdoux, we can't fix the damage to the nervous system. Your legs, hips, everything from the L5-down is paralyzed. The fall had caused you something that we call Paraplegia"

"What?-" He squeezed her hand.

"Douxie-"

"Even with rehabilitation, there is no guarantee that you would be able to walk after". Hisirdoux's heart broke.

The wizard would never walk again.

[cuddlepilefics]

Migraine

Fandom: GOT7

Sickie: Mark

Caregiver: Jackson & Jinyoung

Prompt: @sicktember

No one’s POV.:

Being the quietest member certainly had its perks, Mark realized when he woke up feeling off. He didn’t know what exactly was wrong, so he didn’t want to worry his friends. Throughout breakfast, the oldest had been quiet but nobody thought much of it, as he was always quiet. What Mark didn’t know was that his roommate had noticed. Jackson knew the older very well, as you do after living together for years. He could tell his hyung wasn’t feeling himself, though he couldn’t tell exactly what was wrong or what had given it away. It was more like a gut-feeling, that something wasn’t right. Jackson was relieved that they’d spend the entire day at the studio because he couldn’t imagine Mark would be up for dancing today. They’d have a lot of recording to do, which wasn’t too stressful and consisted mainly of revising lyrics and waiting for their turn to record. Maybe the oldest could take a nap until he had to record and would be fine with just a little more rest. Going back to their room to get ready to head out, Jackson got only more worried. It was his hyung’s clothing choice that stuck out to Jackson like a red flag. Mark had that extremely old and washed-out hoodie, which he had brought from the US when he first came to Korea to train. By now, it was far from fashionable and served more as a comfort item, which the rapper usually wore when he didn’t feel well or was home-sick. Him putting it on now, confirmed the younger’s suspicions.

“Hyung, are you feeling alright?”, Jackson asked, barely stopping the older from leaving their shared room. Mark turned around and looked at him confused, muttering: “Sure, why?” – "You’re wearing that hoodie. You always wear it when you don’t feel good”, Jackson pointed out. Glancing down his outfit, the oldest realized that his dongsaeng was right. He just hadn’t expected anyone to pick up on it. Shrugging, he replied: “I feel a bit off, maybe didn’t sleep enough.” Jackson nodded, not fully buying it but following his hyung to the living room anyway. They waited for everyone else to finish up and then headed out together. During their drive to the studio, Mark started to question himself. Jackson’s comment had sparked his worry. He hadn’t put on that hoodie deliberately, it had just happened on top of already feeling weird. What was going on with him? Being so deep in thought, he didn’t even notice how they pulled up in front of the company building. “Are you coming, hyung?”, Jaebeom’s voice startled him from his thoughts and Mark nodded quickly, wincing when the fast movement caused his head to ache. He quickly climbed out of the vehicle, stumbling a bit before he was able to get his footing. Watching him stumble, Jackson linked their arms and walked him up to their studio. The older couldn’t help but be flustered. He felt fine, right? He didn’t need help to walk.

Jackson was the first one to record with Jaebeom as the producer, so Mark sat with the rest of the members, revising his lyrics and warming up his voice. The headache he had gotten from nodding his head to fast earlier was still lingering, so he decided his voice was warmed up enough and quietly sat there, reading over his lyrics. Or rather, pretending to read over his lyrics as they were blurring together in front of his eyes. The rapper winced, massaging his temples. Maybe that was why he had been feeling off. He carefully reached for his water bottle and took a few sips before going back to revising. The headache only increased the longer he looked at the small-print, so he closed his eyes for a few seconds, quickly opening them again as he felt the room spinning. It took Mark a while to put the pieces together. Every now and again, he suffered from migraines and this felt like the beginning of one. The odd feeling this morning, the ache from moving too fast and the dizziness. It all made sense now. From this point on, Mark knew it would only get worse as the day progressed but what could he do about it? They had deadlines for their new album and he didn’t want to hold them back. He had to record now because they had a too tight schedule to postpone his recording. Anxiously glancing towards the recording booth, the rapper made up his mind. As soon as Jackson would be done, he’d convince the others to let him record next. He should get it over with as soon as possible before getting too useless and miserable later.

Mark tried to speak up when Jackson exited the recording booth but for some reason, he felt frozen in his spot. Jinyoung went in to record next as the oldest sat motionlessly in his seat. “You okay?”, Jackson mouthed, sitting down next to him and nudging his shoulder to get his attention. The older nodded before realizing his mistake and scrunching his face up in pain at the movement. Jackson obviously didn’t believe him after that, pulling out his phone to text Mark that he looked awful and was acting far from okay. Knowing he couldn’t look at his bright phone screen, Mark leaned closer to his dongsaeng and whispered barely audible: “’m developing a migraine.” He could see shock and understanding flash across the younger’s face within a split second before Jackson replied as quietly: “How bad is it yet and when did it start?” – “Started when I got out of the car and it’s not too bad yet. My head hurts but it’s bearable and my stomach’s starting to churn a bit”, Mark answered truthfully, aware that the younger would immediately assume the worst if he didn’t. "Do you want some water and do you have your medicine with you?”, Jackson worried. Closing his eyes, the oldest hummed: “Already had lots of water, my meds are at home.” He knew that he was supposed to take his medication with him for situations like this but somehow, he had forgotten and didn’t find the energy to scold himself for it now. He kept his eyes closed, as Jackson wordlessly started to massage his neck, helping him to relax.

When Jinyoung exited the recording booth, Jackson was quick to speak up, announcing that Mark was going next. He had taken care of the older on similar occasions before and was well aware that his hyung would only be getting worse from, especially without his migraine medication. Mark shot him a grateful smile before forcing himself up from the couch. He swayed dangerously for a moment before making his way into the recording booth on wobbly legs. His vision blurred as the rapper stood behind the mic. Just standing on his own two feet had made the pain a lot worse, the pounding being all Mark could focus on. He knew he couldn’t put anymore pressure on his head if he didn’t want it to explode but reached for the headphones anyway. His hands shook as he put them on painfully slow. He had torn them off again in barely half the time he had needed to put them on, crying in pain as he fell to his knees. His head spun and his stomach churned. At first, he didn’t even notice the hand on his back, which later turned out to belong to Jackson, who had barged into the booth the second Mark had cried out. He had kept a closer eye on his hyung ever since he admitted to suffering from another migraine.

The members felt helpless as their oldest cried in pain on the floor of the recording booth. Jackson held him, soothingly rubbing his back, but was unable to provide enough comfort. By the way Mark clutched his head, they knew he had a migraine, having witnessed it a couple of times over the course of their career, so Jinyoung turned off the lights and quietly approached the pair with a bottle of water. “Hyung, do you think you can stomach some water?”, he asked carefully. The older replied tensely: “I-I need to be sick.” Quickly scooping him up, Jackson tried to get to the bathroom as fast as possible without jostling his sick hyung too much. Mark had already turned a few shades paler by the time they made it there and relied on the younger’s support to keep himself upright in front of the toilet. His stomach lurched, causing him to pitch forward, and he was grateful for Jackson’s strong arm steadying him. The younger couldn’t help but feel his heart break at his hyung’s pained groans in between the heaves. It didn’t help that Mark had barely eaten anything during breakfast, so after all the water was out, he struggled to bring anything up. He was surprised his head was still in one piece as it felt like exploding over and over again from the strain. After what felt like an eternity, the heaves slowly tapered and Mark weakly slumped back against Jackson’s chest, who tightened his hold on the older. The younger gently brushed his hyung’s sweaty hair out of his eyes before reaching for some toilet paper to clean him up.

“Are you ready to go home now?”, Jackson asked quietly. He only knew that Mark was still awake because his face was contorted in pain. Tearing up, the older whimpered: “I-I can’t go home. We have deadlines.” – “Hyung, you won’t be able to record like this anyway. You look like a corpse and I’m afraid you might become one if you don’t rest soon”, Jackson retorted, “I finished already, I can take you home. Doesn’t your bed sound really tempting, right now?” – “It does”, Mark had to admit hoarsely. Still shaky on his legs, he allowed his dongsaeng to pull him to his feet and onto his back. Trying to keep his steps light, Jackson carried him back to the studio, so they could inform the others about leaving. “I’ll come with you, I’m done already too”, Jinyoung announced, collecting their belongings while Jaebeom called them a driver. Mark kept his eyes closed through all of it, reminding himself that gritting his teeth would only make the pain worse. Suddenly there was a gently hand on his head, stroking his hair, and he heard Jaebeom’s voice close to his ear. “Get some rest and don’t worry about our deadlines, I’ll reschedule the recording for you”, the leader hummed softly. Mark replied with a sleepy: “Thanks.” Then he felt Jackson move and Jinyoung instructed: “Keep your eyes closed, we’re almost outside and it’s rather sunny.” It wasn’t like Mark had any motivation to open his eyes anyway, so he let his dongsaeng’s take him to the car. Jinyoung got in first and helped Mark find his seat too. While he buckled the oldest’s seatbelt, Jackson got in on the other side, buckling himself up too before adjusting the air conditioning.

They spent the ride in silence with Mark resting on Jinyoung’s shoulder and Jackson holding his hand for emotional support. The older was so out of it that he didn’t pay any attention to the other two distributing tasks as they pulled up in front of their dorm building. Jinyoung unbuckled their seatbelts before going ahead to the dorm to let the other two in and Jackson helped the dizzy Mark out of the vehicle and onto his back again. They made their way to the dorm much slower than their dongsaeng, who took off Mark’s shoes while Jackson struggled out of his. He then carried the oldest straight to their room and lowered him on his bed. “Shorts or sweatpants?”, he hummed, opening his hyung’s closet. Peeling himself out of his jeans, Mark muttered: “Shorts please.” He changed with some difficulties before laying down and pulling his pillow over his head. While Jackson closed the blinds, Jinyoung came in with a bucket, some water and his hyung’s migraine medication. “Hyung, can you sit up for a moment? I’ve got your meds”, the vocalist whispered, gently removing the pillow. Before even trying to sit up, the older warned: “I-I might need to be sick again.” – “That’s okay, I brought a bucket but try to keep the pills in as long as possible”, Jinyoung assured, helping his hyung to sit up. Mark downed the pills with only a few small sips of water, afraid they’d come right back up. Jackson had ventured into the kitchen and collected two icepacks, while his dongsaeng helped Mark get under the blanket properly. “Wait”, he hummed lowly, returning to their room, “Lay your head on my lap.” Sitting down against the wall close to the headboard, Jackson settled the older’s head on his thigh and gently slipped one icepack under his neck before placing the other on his forehead. “Alright, you can go to sleep now, hyung”, the younger rapper smiled, playing with Mark’s hair. Jinyoung sat down on Jackson’s bed, whispering: “I hope you feel better when you wake up.”

[wolvesandpetals]

Playing house: Final chapter (Loki x Sylvie, Rated: T)

Masterlist of my Sylki fanfiction here.

Sylvie wakes up the next day to the sunlight well past morning. When her eyes adjust to the sudden blinding light, she notices Loki staring at her, wearing the same clothes that he was in last night.

That's right, last night he confessed he does not want to leave, that he likes it here. She wonders if that is the real reason he has been insisting that she plays along with this charade.

[[MORE]]

Rage from the previous night starts to bubble at the pit of her stomach again, threatening to rise up. She closes her eyes, trying to push it down.

"Good morning", Loki says merrily, unaware of her internal struggle. "Thank you for bringing me back to the room last night. I don't recall much after my seventh glass, to be honest."

Sylvie opens her eyes to glare at him. Does he really not remember, or is he trying to get out of trouble by pretending not to?

She cannot tell. She just doesn't know anymore.

"I was thinking, maybe we can start our tour at the-"

"No." She cuts him off sharply. She sits up then, rubbing her temples as the hangover headache starts. Along with it, begins the surge of her anger. She feels like screaming to the heavens above and the hells below.

"No?" Loki asks, confused. "Sylvie, we have the whole day. We can-"

"No we can't!" She finally snaps. "I can't. I don't want to. I don't want to be a bloody tourist in bloody LA!" Her fingers curl into a fist, until she throws her hands up in the air. "I don't want to walk around Santa Monica Pier pretending to be your bloody wife! You know why? Because I've been here. I've lived in the pier during the tornado of 4055. I've watched the city die. I was only a hundred years old at the time." Her voice breaks a little, but the anger helps her push away the painful memory and the emotions it brings. "You know why I had to do that? Because of the TVA. They stole my life. They made me suffer. All I want to do now is take them down and make sure nobody else suffers like me."

Loki has been listening quietly, letting her get everything off her chest. He has spent his whole life doing what is right for him, never what is just right. But this time, he is willing to do right by her. "I get it, Sylvie. I promise we will-"

"Stop lying to me!" She screams. Her eyes turn cold, and she maintains eye contact as she makes her accusations known. "You like this!"

"W-what?"

"You confessed last night." She tells him so that he can no longer try to deny it. "You've got your family again. You've got your father's approval. You don't have to work a day in your life. You love this timeline."

"That's not...." He begins, but decides to abandon his protests. If they are being honest with each other now, then fine, he will speak his mind too. "So maybe I do love it here. Yes. I love this life. I love that my parents are alive and my brother doesn't hate me. I love that I have a home, and I'm happy." He places a hand over his heart, feeling it beating so fast that a mere mortal might have passed out. He focuses on it, willing it to lend him strength for the confession he's about to make. "But that doesn't mean I won't help you get out of here." A teardrop slips out of his left eye, and he hastens to wipe it away. "Sylvie, I... I have been a selfish man. I've always taken all I've wanted... But for you, I'd give it all up in a heartbeat." He places his hands on her shoulders, never breaking eye contact. Her rage has vanished now, her features soft and vulnerable, and all he wants is to make sure she's okay. "I promise you I will get us out of here, even if it means never seeing my family again. I've lost them once already. Doesn't matter if I lose them again." He lets go of her and steps back then, his familiar defense mechanisms snapping into place, the walls around his heart going up.

"Loki... I-" she tries.

But he doesn't think he can do this right now. "I need some air." And with that, he's out of the hotel room, the door wide open and still swinging the faintest bit from the pressure of his hand.

---

Sylvie spends the next four hours scared out of her mind, wondering whether he is coming back. He will return, she keeps telling herself. And even if he doesn't, it's not like she's ever had a... partner. She doesn't need one. Partners will only slow her down. She's better off-

Oh, hell with it! She cannot lie to herself anymore. She knows what the truth is. She knows she is not moving an inch from the room until he comes back. She has tried calling him a dozen times, but he never picks up. She did think about looking for him, but what if he returned to find her gone?

No. It's best to stay put. She's good at waiting, she has waited her whole life to bring her grand plan into fruition, after all. She can wait for him right here as long as she needs to.

---

Five hours later, the lock in the door turns. Sylvie reaches for the dagger hidden in her jeans, but relaxes when the door opens to reveal Loki. Their eyes search each other's to try to understand what kind of mood the other is in. Loki sees worry in Sylvie's eyes, along with fear, while Sylvie finds resolve in Loki's. Resolve for what? She wonders. What is his glorious purpose now?

He reaches inside his pocket to pull something out, then places it gently on the bed beside her. "I got you this. I thought it... I thought it'd look good with... well, with everything."

She picks it up to see it's a little necklace, with a green gem as a pendant. "Thank you." She says sincerely, clutching the object tightly in her hand. "I'm sorry for-"

He doesn't let her finish. "We have a flight to catch." She can tell that he's not angry anymore, just incredibly exhausted, and she decides to drop the matter for the time being. He reaches for their luggage, and she quickly places the necklace in the pocket of her jeans, deciding to wear it for the first time during some special occasion. Loki holds the door open for her. "Come on."

---

The flight back home is silent, but comfortable. There is so much they should talk about, but they have never been good at communication. Instead, she places her head on his shoulder, and he places his arm around her, and just like that, they know everything is alright.

They both feel incredibly jetlagged when they are finally "home", but the familiar place does give them relief.

"So it seems we can leave this town", Loki finally says, vocalizing what they learnt from the trip. He takes a seat next to Sylvie on the sofa, and sighs. "But we can't leave this reality."

Sylvie nods, wondering what their next move should be. If they can't leave, maybe they can lure the TVA to them?

A plan begins to form in her head.

She kisses him.

Loki feels his eyes go wide in shock for a few seconds at the sudden reaction, before he closes them and kisses her back. Slowly, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her closes. He can feel her nibbling his lower lip, and he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, making her moan. After a while, they break apart for need of air, but he doesn't let her go. "Wow, that was... Wow."

She is smiling, breathless, but she is looking around them expectantly.

"Sylvie?" Loki asks, trepidation creeping into his mind. "What is it?"

"I... I thought that..." She sighs. There is no easy way to say this, and this will hurt him. "Back at Lamentis, when we touched, the TVA showed up. I thought that if we..." She looks away, blushing.

"Maybe they'd show up again." He finishes. "I guess we are not a Nexus event in this timeline." The happiness he felt just a while ago disappears. He felt like for once in his life, he finally got something he wanted. But he didn't. It was a trick. Just like this whole world is. He cannot fight back the bitter taste in his mouth. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"I'm not disappointed." Sylvie reassures immediately. She grabs his hand and gives it a squeeze. Her smile melts away the tension from his body, and they both inch closer again.

So maybe she did kiss him to bring in the TVA.

Or maybe it was an excuse to do something she has wanted to do for too long. Maybe she wants this.

Yes, she wants this.

The happy feeling is back in his heart, though the emotional rollercoaster still feels raw, and he prays it won't go downhill again.

As if on cue, a giant glowing door appears, and in walks Mobius.

Loki and Sylvie move apart at once, putting a respectable amount of distance between them, which is unusual for two beings who love scandalizing others. Their shocks mirror each others'. It is Sylvie who voices it out loud first. "Wait, it worked?"

"What worked?" Mobius asks, confused.

"Nothing." Loki supplies quickly. "How did you find us?"

"There's a variant of a powerful witch in this town. Agatha Harkness. She was posing as your neighbor, Agnes."

"Agnes is a witch?" She is shocked. But she shouldn't be. The hints were always there. Thor said they have lived in this house for years, yet Agnes- Agatha knew they had just moved in. Sylvie was so distracted by everything else, so consumed by the urge to find the enemy behind the scenes, that she missed the one right in front of her. This is new for her, she never lets her guard down. Never.

Loki shoots her a sympathetic look, as if reading her mind. It's not like Agatha ever presented herself as a threat to them. Anyone else in their shoes would miss it too.

"Her speciality is feeding on others' powers." Mobius explains, trying to be as brief as possible. "She wasn't supposed to be in your town. She kept herself disguised from our eyes. The TVA found her today. And she lead me right to you."

"Oh. So that's the Nexus event you were chasing." Loki concludes.

"Yeah." Mobius confirms, and gestures at the yellow glowing door. "Now come on."

Loki steps towards it, without hesitation. Before he walks in, he turns back to see Sylvie frozen in her place.

Sylvie feels like her legs have taken roots. When she first got here, all she could think about was getting out. Every moment felt like hell while she was trapped against her will. Over time, she has started to think of it as her home. She cannot imagine waking up without the yellow wallpaper to greet her every morning, or the little red extension chord attached to the distant wall socket that she uses to charge her phone every night, or the neighbor's tuxedo cat that pays her a visit each night, curling up against her legs with its tail high up like a salute. She touches the wall, mirroring her action from when she first got here, but her emotions are very different now. Her home is about to be taken from her for the second time in her life. Her spot, the place where she can sit down with her legs spread out and kick some ass at Fortnite, will no longer exist. There will be no walks in the garden at the end of the day while throwing dirty looks at the neighbor's extravagant pool, no lawn to be mowed, no hedges to be trimmed. In a few moments, every domestic comfort she has known will be forever gone.

"Sylvie?"He walks over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders, his concern hard to miss. "What's wrong?"

"I..." She doesn't think she's ready to say it yet, and chooses the flip the script on him. "But your parents..."

"Would want me to do the right thing. They are annoyingly righteous." He says with the tiniest hints of a smile. His parents are gone. He wants them back, but he knows the price will be too high. All he can do now is go on, and hopefully do some things here and there that will make them proud. He knows he has to live on his own terms, not on the terms of the dead, but there must be actions he can take to honor their memory.

"But this house..." Sylvie looks around, her heart breaking. "I don't... I don't know if I should..."

"Sylvie", he squeezes her shoulders, making her look at his eyes once more. "When we've beaten the ones at the end, we can have a life like this again."

"We can't. Not on the same timeline." She says sadly. One touch, and it's a Nexus event. There is no place for two Lokis on the same timeline. There's no place for her happiness.

And that's just it, isn't it? That's the biggest thing she's losing, the biggest reason she doesn't want to leave - Loki.

"This isn't about you", she had told him when they first met. But now, everything is all about him.

"We can... stay at the TVA." He says cautiously. He doesn't know the logistics of it yet, but he knows they will find a way. The Ones at the time of time are the ones who decided two Lokis cannot exist on the Sacred Timeline. There must be a way to change that when they are defeated. "We'll figure it out when we get to that. I promise."

Sylvie believes him. She has to. What choice does she have anyway? They ended up here because of someone else's will. Who is to say she won't blink and find herself in some other place, away from him?

No. Her best bet is getting out of here with him, and finding a place for them that they choose, that they can keep.

Sylvie nods. She reaches inside her pocket, and takes something out. Loki realises it's the necklace he bought her at LA. That's the only thing she intends to take from this place. No words are needed anyway. Now he knows exactly how he feels. A huge smile spreads across his face. He did get what he wanted, after her.

"Can I keep this?" She asks Mobius.

"Sure." He says softly.

Loki looks at Sylvie and smiles. She smiles back, reaching for his hand. Her journey began when she was dragged through the door centuries back. Now she's about to walk through the door and end it all.

Time to face the ones- or one, him or her, whoever or whatever it is- at the end of time.

(The end.)

[petite-ely]

Together

Pairing: JJ Maybanks x female reader

Warnings: mentions of social anxiety and other mental health issues, slight swearing and slight mention of underage drinking.

A/N: this story is mainly based upon my own experiences and struggles with anxiety and social anxiety. I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing mental illnesses. If you need help you can always talk to me or contact crisis hotlines. It gets better, I know it. (Also this is the first time I post on tumblr and I am a very anxious bby please send feedback, it would make me very happy, okay thank you.)

Summary: Reader has been suffering from social anxiety for a long time. One night, everything falls apart and she hopes nobody notices.

Word count: 1,700 ish

This represents y/n’s thought and this jj’s.

Picture found on Pinterest, all credits to rightful owner.

It was a typical Friday night in the outer banks, the pogues had organized yet another kegger and the party was roaring. Y/n was sitting on a hard lump of wood, enjoying the music and the dancing flames of the bonfire. You could even see a soft smile drawn onto her lips. She felt good.

That changed quickly. One minute she was fine and the next she couldn’t feel anything anymore. Emptiness. It was all she could feel. Like she was nothing but a large void. It felt as if all of the air had been sucked out of her lungs, leaving her breathless and frightened.

It happened more and more lately. Small moments of disorientation where she couldn’t feel anything at all. These episodes usually happened when she was alone and didn’t last very long, but this time it was different. It felt much worse.

You’re so disgusting, and pathetic.

Not wanting anyone to see her in this state, she left silently, ashamed of herself. It’s not as though anyone would miss her anyway. She wasn’t very popular. She had friends, of course, but not that many.

There was John B, a friendly guy who everybody knew because, well he was John B.

There was also Pope, who was kind and smart, but that everyone knew because of his father Heyward’s business.

Then there was Kie, a cute hippie girl with a passion for environmental issues. Born a kook, but a pogue at heart.

And finally there was JJ, one of the best surfer in the Outer Banks. He was well known for his charm, being a pothead and his tendencies of getting into fights with kooks.

The five of them hung out almost every day and yet if you showed a photo of the group to an islander, they probably wouldn’t be able to identify y/n.

She was invisible, unseen. She was that one girl who was always with the four pogues. The one who nobody chose for projects. The one teachers never picked on. The one who no one noticed. She was nothing.

As she was sitting on the damp sand, small waves crashing onto her bare feet, tears began to roll down her cheeks. She wanted to scream, tell the whole world how she felt, but no sound came out. She couldn’t speak. Only her breathing was heard. She couldn’t move either, and yet she couldn’t stop her hands from shaking.

-

“You better reuse that plastic cup Maybank, or I’ll make you eat it,” threatened Kie, after JJ placed his empty cup on the ground.

The boy rolled his eyes and threw the red cup at his friend. “Keep it safe for me, I’m going to find y/n.”

“She was sitting by the bonfire, like five minutes ago,” said John B.

“Well not anymore,” muttered the blond when his eyes landed on the empty seat.

JJ wandered around the boneyard, looking for his friend. A bad feeling started to grow in the pit of his stomach. So after looking around the boneyard for more than half an hour, the boy became more and more worried.

Biting off the nails of his hand, he scanned the crowd once more. Y/n and him had been friends since they were little and they knew each other better than anyone else. He knew that she would never leave a party without saying goodbye.

Where could she be, he wondered, taking his hat off to run his hand through it.

A sigh of relief left his lips as he saw the small silhouette of his friend, sitting on the beach, away from the party. As he got closer, he noticed the shiny streams on her cheeks he remembered how distant she had been recently.

How she smiled less frequently and how she didn’t talk as much. How she didn’t eat as much and how her leg was always bouncing under the table. How her fists we’re always closed tightly and how tired she looked. The dark circles under her eyes and the nothingness in her gaze. It was like she wasn’t there anymore.

JJ’s face twisted into a sad expression. He felt bad for not noticing it earlier, like it was his fault. It pained him to see her this way, in such a distressed state.

He sat next to her, making her flinch in surprise. “Hey,” he spoke softly, “are you okay?” She wiped her tears away and nodded her head.

“Y/n, please don’t lie.” His voice was small and full of empathy, like he felt the same way she did.

So pathetic, even when doing nothing you’re hurting your friends. How could anyone love you, she said to herself.

“I- uh I-“ she tried to speak but failed, choking on her words.

Panic filled the girl’s mind as she was suddenly aware of what was happening. Her heart tightened in her chest and pain shot up in her rib cage. Her hands were shaking even more and her legs felt numb.

JJ noticed how her eyes were filled with fear and how loud and uneven her breathing had become. She was having a panic attack. It had happened a few times before so he knew how to help her.

“Hey, hey hey,” he placed his arms around her and held her tightly. “You’re okay. I’m here with you, okay? Everything is going to be okay. Now I want you to listen to my voice and do exactly what I say, can you do that?” She nodded, JJ gave her a reassuring smile.

“Okay, good. Now every time you feel a wave crashing on your feet, I want you to take a deep breath and when you feel another one coming, you let it all out, “ she nodded once more.

They both looked down at the ocean and waited for a wave to come. “In,” the wave left the shore slowly and came back a few seconds later. “and out.”

“good, you’re doing good. In and out. That’s it.” JJ’s hand was now tracing small patterns on the back of the girl’s back, so softly she could barely feel it. “Now I want you to talk to me, can you do that for me?”

Her breathing had now slowed down to a regular rhythm and so had her tremors, but she had terror spread across her face.

“I want you-,” he paused wiping away with his free hand the tears off of her warm cheeks, “-to tell me three things that you can see right now.”

“I-“ she shook her head in denial, “no.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay you can do it y/nn.” His voice was warm and so reassuring. Just hearing it helped her calm down.

“I- uh I can, I can se see the ocean,” her voice was shaky and weak.

“Huh uh, keep breathing.”

“and um the uh the-the stars,” she stopped for a second to take a deep breath, her hand reaching out to his. The blond boy flinched at the contact, her skin was freezing cold.

“I-I can also see your eyes,” she finished, her voice sounding smoother and more confident.

JJ offered a warm smile, “good, now tell me two things you can hear.”

Y/n broke the eye contact and started a tte ocean, concentrating on what she could hear. “I hear music playing from the party and uh the waves crashing.”

She was no longer crying or shaking but JJ kept going. “ Name one thing you can feel.”

“Only one?” He shook his head in agreement.

“Your heart,” she stared into his eyes, “I can feel beating in my hand.”

“Good.”

JJ looked away silently. He wanted to ask her what had happened, but he didn’t. Instead he remained quiet and admired the star shining above his head.

“I’m sorry,” she croaked out. “It’s just that lately, it’s like I can’t feel anything at all-“ she wrapped her arms around her knees, “-it’s like the only thing I care about is what others will think about me.”

“Don’t wear that skirt, people will think you’re a slut. Don’t say anything or they’ll think you’re annoying. Did you see them, they’re laughing at you, shouldn’t have said anything. Did you really say that? Ugh you should have let somebody else talk, what a waste of time. He didn’t answer you? Well that’s because he hates you. There’s a party? Don’t go. Nobody likes you anyway, they’re just gonna judge you, they hate you.”

“Y/n, you know none of that is true, we do love you.”

“I know, but I can’t help it! I can’t stop it. And I’m so tired of feeling that way. I just want it to stop.” A single tear rolled down on the side of her face.

“Oh god, y/n.”

“I’m so dumb. I’m here talking to you about my little problems, but you’ve got problems much worse than mine. Jesus I’m so stupid.”

JJ looked at the girl next to him. She looked so small and vulnerable. He could see the pain in her expression and it hurt him so much. He wanted to hold and kiss her, but he was afraid of breaking her. She looked so fragile.

If only she knew how loved she is.

“No y/n, you’re not stupid or dumb. It’s not because I have a shitty life and a jack ass for a dad that your problems are not valid. You’re living something really intense and scary right now but I can assure you that I understand. We’ll get trough this together okay?”

They were both crying messes at this point, but neither of them cared anymore. The small girl opened her arms to boy beside her. Through her gesture a message was hidden, and JJ understood it perfectly. He held her tightly against his chest. Her tears were wetting his shoulder and his were falling onto the messe that was her hair. Her hands were grasping firmly that soft cotton of his sweatshirt, afraid he would let go.

“Don’t let go of me, please,” she implored. “I don’t want you to leave me, ever. I can’t do this without you J.”

“I won’t y/n, I won’t leave you, I promise.”

“We’ll get through it, we’ll get you help and we’ll survive this together, okay?” A sob left the blond’s mouth. “I promise, okay, I promise.”

[adiwriting]

Sunday Morning 11/?

This fic morphed into something much bigger than a “Sunday Morning” fic, so I am going to be trying something new. I’ll be posting this as a Sunday Morning fic, then this evening I’ll post a special follow-up “Sunday Night” fic. Don’t expect that to be a regular thing, but I figured this fic would require a follow up and our boys shouldn’t have to wait a whole week to resolve things. 

Shout out to my people over at the 18+ Discord for helping me talk through this one! 

Gif by the lovely @manesalex​

Week 11

It’s Sunday morning and somehow, they’ve been roped into attending brunch with everyone, though Michael doesn’t really understand how. They’ve made it pretty clear to everyone that Sundays are off limits for any and everything unless somebody is dying. And looking around the table, nobody is suffering from a medical emergency. 

Yet, here they are. Sitting around Isobel’s patio with the entire “I know an alien” fan club while Kyle tells some story that Michael isn’t interested in. He looks over to Alex and glares, not understanding why they’re here instead of in bed together like they should be. All he knows is that he’d been woken up by Alex and told to get dressed. When he’d complained, Alex had made it up to him with an incredibly enjoyable blow job, but the positive effects of his orgasm wore off the moment he stepped into Isobel’s backyard and saw just how many people are here. 

He loves them all. He does. But he also knows them all, and there is no way they are getting out of here in the hour that Alex promised him this would last. And they can’t even use the excuse that they have to go home to take care of the dogs, because Isobel had demanded that they bring them along. Currently, Bell is at home, still not up for leaving the house. The rest of their fur babies are each being held and spoiled by their aunts and uncles. So no, Michael is about as likely to pull Alex away from the passionate conversation Liz is having with him as he is to be able to pull John out of Max’s arms or Wendy out of Isobel’s. 

So here he is. Grumpy after a long week of rude customers and one transmission problem too many. He sits in silence, eating his omelette and listening to his family discuss their own stressful week. And so he’s able to notice several things. 

For starters, he notices the way that Liz keeps glancing over at Max with a smile and the way that he keeps winking back at her. So he knows that those two idiots have gotten back together. He’ll never admit it, but he’s relieved. Max deserves some happiness in his life and Liz is good for him. He’s glad they finally decided to forgive each other for all the drama several months back. They’d both been idiots and caused a lot of pain, but hopefully they’ll be able to move forward and do better, like Michael is moving forward with Alex and doing better. 

Then there’s the other thing, the more important thing… the way that Alex keeps looking over at Maria with a look that can only be described as longing. 

Michael feels bad. He doesn’t know the entire extent of the weirdness that has happened between them, but he knows he’s to blame for at least a chunk of it. Alex and Maria still talk, but there’s been this noticeable tension between them ever since Maria broke up with him. Alex won’t talk to him about it and neither will Maria, so Michael is at a loss as to how to fix it. 

Michael leans over to whisper into Alex’s ear, “You should talk to her.” 

Alex shakes his head. 

“She doesn’t want to talk to me.” 

Somehow, Michael doubts that is true. He’s known Maria for long enough to know that she adores Alex. She also isn’t one to avoid confrontation. Alex on the other hand is notorious for avoiding conflict. He’s gotten better at it, but between the two of them, Michael is willing to bet that Alex is the one avoiding having whatever difficult conversation they clearly need to have. 

“Maybe she doesn’t think you want to talk to her?” 

“Maybe you should stick to fixing cars instead of trying to fix people,” Alex says. He’s smiling at him, but Michael can hear the bite in the words and raises his hands in surrender. He’s certainly not going to spend his Sunday fighting with Alex, even if he feels like he should push. If Alex wants to sit here missing his best friend who is sitting less than six feet from him, let him. 

“Do you see Peter right now?” Alex asks, changing the subject and Michael lets him. He glances over at where Kyle has Peter in his lap and has to laugh at the way that Peter very slowly puts his head on Kyle’s plate and steals a bite of egg without Kyle noticing. 

“I’m pretty sure that he’s eaten 2 whole pieces of bacon and half that omelette,” Alex tells him. 

“He definitely learned that level of thievery from you,” he teases. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Guerin,” Alex says, to which Michael snorts. He reaches over and takes his own mug out of Alex’s hand. Alex had stolen it earlier while Michael wasn’t looking. 

“No?” he asks, giving him an amused look as he sees the mug is nearly empty. 

“Nope,” Alex says with an adorable smile that has Michael rolling his eyes. 

He downs the last little bit of coffee before standing up and heading inside for more. 

“Pour me a mug?” Alex says, causing Michael to let out a surprised laugh. 

“Pour it yourself,” he says, though they both know that he’s coming back with two mugs. 

Michael is standing in the kitchen adding cream to Alex’s coffee when Liz comes inside carrying a handful of plates. 

“I see you finally took my advice on Max. Only took you a month. I thought you were supposed to be the smart Ortecho,” he teases. 

Liz rolls her eyes. “What makes you think I took your advice on Max?” 

“I don’t know,” he says, peeking through the blinds to point at where Max is sitting with the biggest smile. “The dopey look on his face? He hasn’t looked like that since before you left for California.” 

She moves beside him to peek out the window as well and once she does, she practically swoons. He rolls his eyes. As subtle as a sledgehammer, those two idiots. Did they really think nobody would notice? 

“You gonna try and tell me you aren’t back together?” he asks, crossing his arms and fixing her with an amused smirk. 

“Fine. We are. But what makes you think it was your advice that did it?” she asks, using her hip to push him out of the way so that she can wash off the plates in her hand. 

“Was it?” he asks and her glare is answer enough. He laughs. “I’m glad you two got back together. I don’t think I could have handled another one of Max’s sad drunken monologues.” 

She pulls up the blinds to let the natural light in before turning on the sink and starting the process of washing the dishes. 

“They’ll fix things too,” she says, handing him a clean but wet plate. Apparently he’s drying. 

“Who?” he asks, grabbing a towel from the stove and drying the plate before putting it back in the cabinet. 

“Alex and Maria.” 

Michael doesn’t say anything at first. He doesn’t think that Alex will appreciate it if he tries to get details out of Liz that he hasn’t been ready to share himself yet. But he wants so badly to ask her what she knows. 

“They aren’t fighting over you,” she tells him. 

He gives her a look. Does she think he’s a complete idiot? 

“They aren’t fighting entirely over you,” she corrects herself and that sounds more accurate.

“Why are they fighting at all?” he asks, even though he knows he shouldn’t. 

Liz looks at him out of the side of her eye for a moment or two before sighing deeply, clearly resigning herself to something. 

“They got into a fight while she was still in the hospital,” Liz explains as she continues to do the dishes and pass him the finished ones to dry. “It started over you. Alex thought that Maria broke up with you because he got kidnapped and you went after him. He felt guilty. Then he found out that she was refusing to wear the bracelet, and that’s when things got heated. Alex and Maria don’t fight often, but when they do it isn’t pretty. They both said some things they regret.” 

“Alex is mad at her because she won’t wear the bracelet?” he asks. 

It makes sense. Alex doesn’t like being out of control and Maria playing with fire would certainly press at those buttons. Michael gets it. He too has had to wrestle with figuring out how to accept Maria’s stupid decision to risk brain damage just so that she can have access to her visions. The risk far outweighs the reward, but Michael could never figure out how to get her to see that. 

Or maybe he hadn’t tried hard enough. After all, his issue isn’t about control, it’s a fear of abandonment. And he’d always been too afraid that Maria would leave him to push her hard enough on the issue. Alex wouldn’t have had that fear though. He would have pushed and pushed and…

Yeah. It doesn’t surprise Michael in the least that they’d ended up having a blow up about it. 

Liz finishes the last of the dishes and hands it to him, shutting off the sink and turning to lean against the counter and look at him. 

“Maria broke up with you because of the bracelet. But mostly, because she knew at the end of the day that you would always love Alex more even if you weren’t planning on ever admitting it,” she explains.

“Okay…” He’s not sure why she’s telling him about his own breakup. He knows exactly why Maria broke up with him. He was there. 

“Alex thinks that the reason you are with him and not Maria is because of the bracelet.” 

Michael takes a moment to process that, trying to figure out what she’s getting at. 

“Alex doesn’t want much,” she continues. “He never has. He learned not to expect much as a kid and doesn’t aim high. He wants Maria safe. She’s his best friend. Through everything, he’s always had her to rely on. So he can’t lose her. But he also needs you. Can you see how those two things might be in competition with each other?” 

“He thinks he’s my second choice?” he asks. 

Liz looks at him like he’s an idiot and maybe he is. Because here he’d been thinking that everything has been going great between the two of them. How could Alex honestly still doubt what they have together? 

“That’s why he wouldn’t tell me what they fought about,” he says. Alex isn’t the kind of guy who voices his insecurities easily. Of course he wouldn’t want Michael to know that he feels like he’s a consolation prize. 

“The two of them will work themselves out in their own time, they always do,” she says. “But it would be easier for them to fix what they broke if you fix what you broke first.” 

His body tenses and he opens his mouth, about to defend himself when she holds up her hand. “Talk to Alex. If you want him to make up with Maria sooner than later, then you should make sure that he knows he doesn’t have to choose between either of you.” 

“Even if I convince him that he’s not a second choice, it still won’t change the fact that Maria is gonna wear the bracelet when she wants to and not a moment sooner. It won’t fix the issue,” he argues. 

“Perhaps,” she agrees. “But it would be one less thing weighing heavy on him and making that first step back towards her harder to take.” 

She pats his shoulder in sympathy before walking towards the door, stopping once her hand is on the handle and turning back towards him. “That was my sisterly advice to you. So we are even now. Sí?”

Michael shakes his head. “That’s not how this works, Ortecho.” She gives him a curious look and he continues. “We’re family, right? We don’t have to keep score.” 

She smiles at him brightly and Michael can kind of see how Max becomes completely hopeless around her. “I never wanted a brother, for the record. But I guess you’ll do, Mikey.” 

He groans, grabbing the two coffees off of the counter before following her out onto the patio. “Mikey? Still?” 

“Always and forever.” 

She heads over towards where Max is currently playing a game of bags with Jenna while Rosa stands beside Max, giving him shit, trying to mess up his game. Michael heads in the opposite direction where Alex is currently sitting in a chair, watching as Maria and Isobel have what looks like a photoshoot with their puppies. 

“Do I even want to know?” he asks, reaching over Alex’s shoulder to place the mug in his hand and a kiss to the top of his head before sitting down at the empty seat next to him. 

“Our puppies are Insta-famous apparently,” Alex says, taking a sip of the coffee and smiling in a way that makes Michael feel all warm inside.

“I don’t remember consenting to that,” he says. 

“Apparently Isobel started photographing them weeks ago and they have a following.” Alex hands Michael his phone and he scrolls through the pictures that Isobel has been posting under the Instagram handle @FaithTrustPittieDust. She’s been posting pictures on the regular, apparently. He scowls when he sees a picture of Peter wearing a tiny black cowboy hat. 

“Well she’s banned from puppy-sitting,” he says, handing the phone back to Alex. 

“One hundred percent,” Alex agrees, pocketing the phone before shifting around so he could look at Michael more fully. “You were in there a long time…” 

“I got distracted, sorry,” he says, nervously. Unsure how Alex is going to react to the news that they’d been talking about him. However, he knows that it’ll be better to just be upfront about it. “I was talking to Liz,” he says with a meaningful look. 

“Okay?” He looks confused. 

“She told me about the fight with Maria.” 

Alex grumbles and shakes his head. “She has no concept of minding her own business. Never has.” 

“I want to talk about this,” he says. Alex looks around the yard at their family and he sits up in his seat. His body visibly tenses and he prepares for a fight. It’s been awhile since Alex got defensive like this around him, but he still recognizes the signs of Alex closing himself off. “But we can talk later when we are alone.” 

Alex breathes a sigh of relief, even if his body doesn’t relax completely. And that’s on Michael. He should have noticed sooner that Alex wasn’t feeling entirely secure in their relationship. But it’s also on Alex for not being honest with him about their feelings. Clearly they’ve still got a ways to go in terms of figuring out how to make this thing between them work. 

They may not have the ability to have the conversation completely right now. But there is something Michael can say and he doesn’t want to wait. 

“I want you to know, right here, surrounded by family, exhausted as fuck, and spending the entire time complaining because I want to be in bed with you instead? This is the happiest I’ve ever been in my life. The most settled. And it’s important to me that you know that.”

Alex doesn’t say anything, but he does relax a bit further in his chair and Michael takes that as a win. He reaches out his hand and smiles when Alex reaches back and they can lace their fingers together. 

Peter obviously comes over and tries to pull Michael off of Alex, angry that he’s not the one getting all of his daddy’s attention, but they don’t let go. Michael isn’t planning on letting go of Alex ever again. And he hopes Alex feels the same way about him.

Follow up fic to be posted tonight ;) 

Tagged: @callieramics​ @redstalkingdeath​

As always, if anyone wants to be tagged let me know. 

[malewifegrantaire]

The Birthday Thing

READ PART ONE HERE

READ PART TWO HERE

PART THREE: The titular “Thing.”

Combeferre had put himself in charge of the cell phone bag, a move that Enjolras heartily objected to.

“You really don’t have to do that.” Enjolras said. “You should be having fun!”

“I will be having fun!” Combeferre promised. “But if we’re gonna enforce a no cell phone policy, someone has to keep an eye on them in case someone’s mom calls or something.”

“If my mom calls, do me a favor and send her to voicemail.” Courfeyrac interrupted. Courfeyrac had managed to simultaneously be the first and last person to arrive, even though the party was being thrown in his apartment. He’d set everything up, welcomed Enjolras and Combeferre, and then left to go pick up his plus-one who, Combeferre noticed, was standing very nervously behind Courfeyrac clutching a bouquet of flowers.

“Uh, hi. Thank you, uh, thanks for having me, I know we don’t know each other too well. We met once, I don’t know if you remember-“

“I remember.” Combeferre said, and Marius made a face that said quite plainly he wished he hadn’t remembered him at all. Enjolras only smiled.

“Oh, it’s you! You’re, yeah, you’re that guy, I remember you! Marius. Okay, yeah! Thank you for coming.” he said. Marius’ shoulders relaxed a bit, and he held out the bouquet.

“These are for you. Or for the house, I guess. I know it said no gifts but I thought, but if you don’t want anything I - sorry, I know that, but, it’s fine I can just-“

“These are very nice, thank you. I appreciate it.” Enjolras said graciously.

Combeferre grabbed the tote bag full of cell phones and held it open. “Well, confiscation time. Cough ‘em up, fellas.” he said. Courfeyrac took it upon himself to discard of Marius’ phone, but before he did, something on Marius’ screen made him giggle.

“I didn’t know you had a sister, Marius.”

Marius frowned. “Sister? What are you - oh!”

His lock screen was a selfie of a teenage girl, who was making a silly face into the camera. Marius’ eyes widened, and he quickly snatched his phone away to change the picture. “This isn’t my sister,” he explained, laughing nervously. “It’s, she’s this kid I know, my neighbor.” He set his screensaver to the first thing in his camera roll, a picture of a dog wearing rain boots, and tossed the phone into the tote bag.

“Okay!” Enjolras said brightly. “Thanks again for coming, and for the flowers. Have you met everyone yet.”

“Uh, yeah.” Marius said. “I know Joly and Bossuet, I already said hi to him. And Bahorel, is he here?”

“Yes, he’s . . . I don’t know, actually. He’s somewhere.”

“And uh, Grantaire, I know him. Is he here too?”

Enjolras’ face fell a bit. As a matter of fact, Grantaire wasn’t there. Not that it was unlike him to be “fashionably” late (Enjolras hadn’t a clue what was so fashionable about lack of punctuality, but you know.) But, still, Enjolras thought . . . seeing as it was his birthday and all . . .

“Not yet,” Combeferre cut in. “But he will be. Soon.”

Courfeyrac squinted at him. “Right.” he said. “Well, we’ll go and join the fray. Come on, Enjolras, you should come join us. Combeferre’s not allowed to hog you in the kitchen all night.”

“Well, alright.” Enjolras said with a pleased sigh. “Combeferre, you don’t have to stand guard by the phones all night.”

“Agreed. I expect you to join us for karaoke!” Courfeyrac said, dragging Enjolras and Marius into the living room to mingle.

Combeferre eyed his tote bag, which was now fairly heavy. Technically, the no cell phone rule applied to him too, but rules were made to be broken, no? He scrolled through his recent contacts and hit the call button, turning away from the kitchen island so as not to be spotted.

“Hello?”

“Uh, yeah, hello?” Combeferre whispered into the phone. “Where are you?”

“Hello??”

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

“Nah, I’m just fucking with you. You’ve reached Grantaire’s voicemail. My phone is either lost or dead or I just don’t want to pick up, so shoot me a text. If it’s an emergency, call literally anyone else. While you’re here, check out this sick beep.”

There was a beep. Fucker.

Combeferre groaned. He should have known this would happen. He looked at Enjolras, who was laughing at something Feuilly was saying. He was a great friend, Enjolras. Maybe the greatest. He didn’t want gifts or even a fancy party. He just wanted all of his friends under one roof for a night. It wasn’t that much to ask for.

He was going to get what he wanted. Combeferre would see to it.

***

Someone was knocking at the door, and Grantaire was pretty sure he knew who it was, but he opened it anyway. Combeferre was standing arms folded, looking angrier than Grantaire had ever seen him (and Grantaire had seen Combeferre argue about politics.)

“Who buzzed you in?” he asked stupidly.

Combeferre didn’t wait for an invitation, he brushed past Grantaire into the apartment. He looked like he was going to throw a punch. Grantaire almost hoped he would. He was usually better with fists than with words.

“What the fuck?” Combeferre asked. It wasn’t a rhetorical question.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Say you got hit in the head and you’re suffering from amnesia, because other than that I can not think of a reason you are in this apartment in pajamas right now.”

Grantaire looked up at Combeferre. “I got hit in the head and I’m suffering from amnesia.” he said.

Combeferre wanted to scream. “Come on.” he said, exercising an impressive amount of restraint. “Get your clothes on. Let’s go.”

“Uh, no, I’m not going. I don’t even know why your here, I already texted Enjolras.”

Combeferre stared at him for a beat, then started rummaging through the tote bag he was carrying. Grantaire blinked in confusion.

“Is that everyone’s phones?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s a screen free party.” Combeferre muttered.

“But you’re here. So nobody at the apartment has a phone. What if there’s an emergency?”

“There won’t be an emergency. Also, Jehan has his phone.” Combeferre had given it to him before he left. He said he was just running out to grab some more drinks, but he was pretty sure Jehan could tell he was lying. He probably should have left the entire bag with Jehan, but he hadn’t been thinking clearly. “Also,” Combeferre added, angrily. “I shouldn’t have had to leave anything with anyone, because you should be at Courfeyrac’s right now.”

Grantaire frowned. Combeferre noticed for the first time how very tired he looked. Very tired, and very unhappy. While he was at it, he also noticed an envelope with Enjolras’ name written in pretty cursive on the coffee table. And an outfit laid carefully out across the couch. Grantaire wasn’t acting his usual self. He seemed . . . more withdrawn. Combeferre always thought of Grantaire as bold and utterly shameless. Maybe this is what it looked like when Grantaire was embarrassed. He went back to looking for Enjolras’ phone.

sorry, can’t make it tonight. wish i could be there, not feeling well. have a blast.

Combeferre read the message aloud. “This is bullshit.” he decided. “I’m deleting this.”

“Oh, you know Enjolras’ password,” Grantaire commented, watching Combeferre. “How sweet.”

“It’s literally 1-2-3-4.” Why did he say that? Now Enjolras would have to change it. Goddamn it.

“Look, I’m actually not feeling well.” Grantaire lied. “So, if you could kindly fuck off? I’d super appreciate it.”

Combeferre looked him up and down. “I think you self sabotage, Grantaire.” he said, earning a mean bark of a laugh from the shorter man.

“Gee thanks. How much do I owe you for this session, doc?”

“Stop, I’m being - I’m trying to be real with you.” Grantaire looked amused by the notion. Combeferre carried on, “Everyone is trying to be friends with you. Why do you insist on making that so difficult?”

“Sorry it’s been such a pain in the ass, I truly am.” Grantaire said, rolling his eyes petulantly. “Look, we all know what kind of friend I am. I’m good for carousing and not much else. It’s no trouble, after all, everyone needs a good drinking buddy, and I am happy to oblige. But this shit? Dinner parties - sorry, not party, thing. And, and, folding laundry together and going for picnics in the park and Saturday brunch or whatever the fuck? That’s not me. Sorry. I really wish it was but, you know. ‘To thine own self be true’ and all that.”

Combeferre folded his arms across his chest. He knew what he needed to ask, but he really, really didn’t want to. Combeferre was a polite person, but what good is politeness if you can’t extend it to people that aren’t always easy to be around? Kind and good, that’s what he tried to be. But maybe he’d find out that he wasn’t kind or good, not really. Not when it counted.

“Grantaire, did I do something to you?”

Grantaire seemed taken aback. “What?”

Combeferre really didn’t want to ask again. “Did I, you know. Is there something I did? Or, I don’t know, do? I just . . . why don’t you like me?”

There was a silence. Grantaire looked at Combeferre, his face twisted in anxiety. This could not be happening.

“Combeferre.” he said slowly. “I don’t dislike you.”

“It’s okay, I shouldn’t have even - but like. You do hang out with the others. Like I know I’m not always down for whatever, but you’re friends with everyone. You’re friends with fucking Marius Pontmercy, who I literally forgot existed until this week. So I know you like all them, obviously you’re friends with Joly and Bossuet, and you go out with Bahorel and Courfeyrac a lot, and you’re always talking to Feuilly and Jehan about whatever, and obviously you like Enjolras so it’s just me, then. I feel like maybe I did something to you but I don’t know what it was or what it is and I don’t know how to fix it? Or apologize? I don’t know, I know we don’t all have to be friends, like I’m not forcing you to be my friend or anything, but I don’t know. I’d like to be.”

Grantaire frowned. “I hate when you do that.” he said, which is not exactly the response Combeferre was hoping for. His heart sunk.

“Do what?”

“Say stuff about Enjolras like that. Like wink-wink nudge-nudge, obviously you like him and oh my god he totally wanted you here. Like I get it, but you don’t have to make fun.” Grantaire’s eyes were fixed on the ground. His pajama pants didn’t have pockets to shove his hands into, so instead they were sort of nervously pulling at the drawstring.

Combeferre didn’t know what to say. He felt absolutely terrible. “I didn’t - I’m sorry. I never meant to make fun. I just meant that I know you guys have like, you know. You have a different relationship than the rest of us, I guess.”

“Fuck off.” Grantaire said, but it came out quiet and unsure of itself.

“Look, I’m only here because I want Enjolras to have a good birthday. I know my best friend, and I know that he will have a great time and be grateful for everyone who came whether you’re there or not.”

“Okay.” Grantaire said, meeting Combeferre’s eyes at last.

“But I also know that he’s going to be thinking all night about why you didn’t show, and he’s going to bring it up for the next month in the way he does whenever he brings you up as if he’s just casually curious even though he’s a terrible actor. And honestly? Maybe it’s selfish, but I don’t want to have to deal with all that. Which is why I’m here to bring you to the party.”

“I didn’t know you had a selfish bone in your body.” Grantaire laughed, almost sounding impressed.

“Well, I’m only human.”

“It doesn’t seem like that, sometimes.” Grantaire said. “You three. You seem like something else entirely. Demigods, maybe. Something out of a book.”

“Well, we’re not. We’re people. Get your clothes on, please.”

Maybe for the first time in all of their years of acquaintance, Grantaire nodded and quietly obliged.

***

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” Bahorel said, more fond than annoyed. Everyone in the apartment greeted Grantaire with a cheer. He gave a sheepish grin in return.

“You know me. I never miss a party.” he said.

Courfeyrac intercepted Combeferre at the door. “I was wondering where you went.” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “Excellent work.”

“Well, you know. It’s his birthday.”

“Speak of the devil.”

Enjolras had made his way from across the apartment to say hello. He looked more beautiful than Grantaire had ever seen him, his golden hair tucked behind his ears, which were blushing pink. Not that this meant much - every time Grantaire looked at Enjolras he seemed more beautiful than the last.

“Glad you could make it.” he said, and he meant it.

“Better late than never, right?” Grantaire joked, but with much more gentleness and much less bravado than he jokes with any of the others. Enjolras usually had this effect on him. “You look nice.”

“Thank you.” Enjolras smiled, and his teeth were so white it was unfair and his eyes were so bright Grantaire could probably sue for damage to his retinas. He pulled an envelope out of his pocket.

“This is, uh, it’s for you. I know it said no gifts but in my opinion that’s bullshit, so. Here.”

“Thank you.” Enjolras said again. “Can I open it now?”

“It’s your present, so. It’s not much, just a gift card.”

Enjolras tore open the envelope. He looked at the contents curiously. Grantaire felt himself starting to sweat.

“What’s Claire’s?” Enjolras asked.

“The fuck?” Grantaire said, grabbing the gift card. Jesus Christ. “I meant to get a regular one, fuck me. Uh, I’m pretty sure Claire’s is a children’s jewelry store. You could get a phone case. Or pierce your ears, that could be fun! I think I have a receipt at home somewhere, I’ll get it to you and you can get an actual gift card. Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine.” Enjolras said, beaming. “Thank you.”

“No, uh, thanks for the invite.”

A phone started ringing from inside of Combeferre’s bag. He fished around for a while before finding the culprit. A familiar looking girl’s contact image lit up the screen.

“Marius, it’s your sister.”

Marius’ eyes went wide, and he rushed to grab his phone. “She’s not my sister. Hello?” he said into the speaker, his face contorting into an indecipherable expression before running into the bathroom to take his call. Combeferre couldn’t help but roll his eyes, which Grantaire noticed with a giggle. Courfeyrac had somehow made his way to the top of a stool, and he was clanging a fork to his glass.

“Everyone! Eyes up here! So, who’s ready for a game?!”

[melon-wing]

The Kissing Challenge Part 5/8

Before I start, let me say how sorry I am that this chapter took so long. I received some bad news while I was working on it. Threw me kinda out of the story. I’ll try to make the next waiting time a little less long. Thank you all for your patience!

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

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]

Grian landed on the peak of a mountain wearing some sort of mask and looked down at his own building. It was a little strange and he had no clue why Doc and Bdubs had been so adamant on buying it at the end of last season only to have to rebuild it block by block in this world.

But he had to admit it looked kind of funny with the fence in the middle, being split apart. He carefully climbed down the mountain and searched for any movement, but nobody appeared to be around. He would be gone in a second, he just needed to trade with Doc’s villagers. Sure, he could have asked, but Doc would have wanted payment and he was getting a little short on diamonds at the moment. And Doc would not even notice anything amiss until it was too late and Grian would be gone by then.

As he crept down the mountain and reached the front lawn he noticed movement behind the house and sure enough, Doc was busy building something in the back. Well that made his plan a little more risky, but not impossible. Grian stayed hidden behind a few chests for a while, but Doc seemed to be fully immersed into his work. And he knew Doc good enough by now. If that guy was busy working on something it was almost as if he was in a different world. There would be no better time than now to pull off his plan.

He slipped through the iron doors and was welcomed by wild mumbling. Those villagers had always been way too noisy. The only good thing was, that they were constantly talking, so any noise he might make should go unnoticed. Now for the trading…

Grian put down a few Shulkerboxes, glancing at the door one last time before getting his first items out. Not a second later he was swarmed by a villagers, all holding up emeralds to trade with him. And trading he did. He pulled out one item after the other, storing the emeralds in his chest, looking at the growing number with a satisfied grin. He was just getting out the last stack of paper to trade for emeralds, when he felt hot breath ghosting over his neck, making him freeze up.

“Nobody touches my villagers”, a low and threatening voice whispered into his ear. He startled and turned around so fast he almost fell down.

Doc was standing right there, one eyebrow raised and just staring at him. Damn, with all the villagers talking he’d never heard the sound of the iron door. And he had been so close to finishing and getting away without being discovered. How was he supposed to talk his way out of this? He had been caught red handed after all.

“So Grian… I think a little payment is due. I can’t trade with them today after all. Or rather a little punishment. You wouldn’t want to start another Civil War now, would you?”

Grian swallowed and shook his head. He always felt so nervous around Doc. They had been on opposing teams constantly last season after all.

“Yeah, thought so. Now what can you offer me? How should we proceed?” Doc’s voice was still dangerously low and he was looking at him with a calculating grin.

“I could… Give you half the Emeralds I just got?”, he suggested slowly, but soon caved in when Doc shook his head. “Or you can have all of them. I don’t really need them that badly. You can have them.” Doc was still silently watching him and each second that went by without any answer made him even more nervous. Of all the Hermits only Doc had that affect on him. “Alright. Name your price. What can I pay to make it up? I got like… 15 diamonds left.”

And finally Doc decided to break his silence. “That’s a nice start. I’ll take those 15 diamonds… Oh and I’ll also take you.”

Grian’s eyes widened and he blushed at the last demand. He didn’t even know what Doc meant by that but his mind was already working in overdrive. His brain conjuring up images he’d never ever forget.

Doc chuckled, clearly amused by his state. “You’d think, someone running around the server kissing people would be a little less innocent. It’s nice to know you haven’t changed.”

“So you just said that to tease me?”, Grian whined, crossing his arms in front of his chest, feeling a little vulnerable under Doc’s intense stare.

“Oh no. I meant what I said. I’ll take you…”, he paused for a second, walking up to Grian and putting one of his fingers underneath Grian’s chin, so he was forced to look up at Doc, “on as a personal assistant for the prank I planned on good old Bdubs.”

“Oh…”

“Well what were you thinking? Expected me to do some dirty things to poor innocent Grian? I think Mumbo would kill me if I laid a finger on you.”

“Mumbo’s not my dad”, Grian grumbled, not even trying to deny that Doc was right about the other part. He needed to change the topic and he needed to change it fast, before he could be teased any more. “So a prank on your neighbour, right? Got anything in mind or do I have to plan it as well?”

“I got a little plan. I just needed someone to play a part in it. You happened to drop by at the right moment. I already prepared everything. You just need to lure Bdubs into my trap. He wouldn’t trust me enough to follow any instructions. And while everyone knows you are a prankster, you haven’t interacted with him enough to raise suspicion.”

~

Half an hour later, Grian regretted everything that had led him up to this moment in his life. “Is this really necessary for your big plan or are you just doing it to punish me?”

“Both. It is the best way to get his attention I think… And I also enjoy seeing you like that.” Doc chuckled darkly, looking Grian up and down. Grian was wearing a red and white dress that Doc had told him was apparently called a ‘Dirndl’. He also wore matching High Heels and bright red lipstick. Doc had even put a flower crown on Grian’s head that reminded him a little of his time as a Hippie.

Grian felt his face light up almost as bright as the dress he was wearing. Sure, he had worn a dress before when he dressed up to do an advert for Sahara. But this? This wasn’t what he had in mind when he left his base today.

“I hate you...”

Doc only laughed with his deep rumbling voice, giving Grian a few pats on the shoulder.

“You’ll do fine. Just, you know… Go over there and lure him into the trap and that’s that.”

Grian sighed in annoyance.

“Yeah. I get that. But why the hell am I wearing this freaking dress and those heels? Like it is obvious it’s me. I can’t pretend I’m anyone else. He’ll know as soon as he sees me.”

“Sure,” Doc just shrugged, “But that’s not the point. The point is to get his attention and to make him curious, you know. Bdubs can’t resist. And I enjoy seeing you suffer like that.”

Grian groaned, throwing one last dirty look at Doc before walking around the fence to Bdubs’ side of the house. He regretted the moment he had decided to sneak onto Doc’s property. He really shouldn’t have done that. But it was too late now and he would have to suffer the consequences.

Bdubs was lying at the side of his little pool on a chair, sun glasses on, simply relaxing. He hadn’t noticed Grian yet, despite the noises his shoes must have made.

Alright. He could do this. Sure, it was ridiculous, but he’d show Doc. If he looked like he felt uncomfortable, Doc would be even happier. So he would just rock this.

Without hesitation Grian swung one leg over Bdubs and just sat down on his waist, legs spread, putting his hands onto the other’s chest.

“Hey there, pretty.”

Grian could feel the way Bdubs startled, trying to jump up, but unable to do so because of the added weight on his lap. So he settled for simply sitting up, which only put him closer to Grian.

“Wha- What? Grian, dude? What’s going on?”

Grian grinned, raising one hand to caress Bdubs cheek, looking at him from bellow his eyelashes.

“Well, you know… I was just passing by and couldn’t resist such a good looking man...”

Bdubs looked utterly confused and Grian really couldn’t blame him for it. Weird things tended to happen quiet often when the Hermits were concerned, but that didn’t make them any less weird. And Grian walking around in a dress making his moves on someone? That was definitely not a common occurrence.

Grian slowly leaned forward, his breath already ghosting over Bdubs lips.

“We could have a little fun, if you are interested. Go somewhere nice and cosy. Just me and you.”, Grian whispered, before he leaned in for the kiss.

And then he looked at Bdubs, blinking a few times in confusion. His lips had only met a book that Bdubs had held up right between them.

“What is Doc planning this time?”, Bdubs voice came from the other side of the book and Grian’s eyes widened even more before he laughed nervously.

“Why would you think Doc has anything to do with it?”

Bdubs raised an eyebrow, looking at Grian as if he had just asked him why water was wet. “I’ve been his neighbour for a while. I know how he ticks. I mean, I heard you were running around kissing people lately, but this? This is a little over the top for that little game. I also saw you sneaking around Doc’s side of the fence about an hour ago. I might pretend to be stupid sometimes, but I can put two and two together. So what does he want you to do? Seduce me?” Bdubs snorted in amusement at his own question and slowly lowered the book still between them, his eyes looking Grian up and down. “No offence, but I don’t really swing that way, even if you are looking really pretty in that dress. And Doc should know that.”

Grian groaned. This wasn’t working out the way he had planned. Not at all. And he didn’t even want to think what else Doc had in store for him as a punishment now that this stupid plan had failed.

“Okay, okay. You got me. You are right. Doc wants me to lure you into his trap. I don’t know much about it. I guess it will probably end with you respawning in your bed though.”, Grian replied after a little hesitation. Surely Doc wouldn’t hear him. He was already at their agreed rendezvous point

"So you are helping him because...?" Bdubs looked at him in mild curiosity, eyes drifting over the dress once more. "Just for fun? Or does Doc have some dirt on you? I know he likes to collect dirt to get people to agree to his plans, the nasty goat."

"I broke into his villager trader..."

Bdubs laughed, a loud bellowing laugh that made Grian want to pout. He didn't enjoy being laughed at, especially not in the get up he was in right now. This was already embarrassing enough as it was.

"Not funny...", he murmured, holding up his hand and flicking Bdubs forehead softly.

"Well, it is kind of funny, you've got to admit. And rather interesting", Bdubs replied and Grian shuddered as he could feel a hand caressing his back, slowly wandering down, but just stopping above his butt. "I've been trading with his villagers as well. I bet I stole far more than you by now, but he never put me into make-up and a little dress. Not that I would look as good in it as you, but I think you need to consider that he's telling you something by that."

"Like what? That I look like a girl?" Grian snorted and rolled his eyes. He knew he was slender and not that tall and maybe had soft features, but he would not really pass as a girl and to call him girly would really be a far stretch.

"No. More like, he thinks you look hot."

Grian’s brain seemed to short circuit at that. He could feel heat rising to his face, sputtering a few times, unable to form words. The thought that Doc – stoic, cold, emotionless Doc could look at him and feel any sort of thing was unbelievable.

"Listen, Grian. I've been his neighbour for a while now. And we don't exactly have walls thanks to splitting this mansion down the middle. I have a pretty good view of his bedroom. And boys like you? Well considering who he had in his bedroom so far I'd say you'd fit right in to that. And I guess he's pretty good going by the sounds his partners make. So if you are interested in some no-strings-attached sex, I'd say go for it." Bdubs had a broad grin on his face and even though his tone was teasing, he sounded like he was telling the truth.

Grian glanced over his shoulder at the other half of the mansion. Above the fence he could see Doc's rather pink bedroom. An image popped into his mind of himself lying on top of that bed. Doc looming above him, looking down with that unreadable stoic expression of his. Would he like that? It had been a while since he had gotten some action – besides kissing that is. Maybe... Maybe having some fun would be a nice change of pace. Make him lose some of the stress that came with starting so many projects at the beginning of a new world.

His train of thought was interrupted by Bdubs laughing and Grian's head snapped back around.

"You are thinking about it, so it's probably already a done deal. Let's go then. You shouldn't leave Doc waiting. His ego couldn't bare it."

"Go...?", Grian echoed, looking at Bdubs in confusion. Hadn't he already said, that Doc was waiting with a deadly trap for Bdubs? Why would anyone walk into that? Or did Bdubs have some secret ace up his sleeve that would end in even more prankage?

"Yeah, go. I'm taking pity on you, dude. So I'm gonna be your wingman in this. A dead wingman, but a wingman nonetheless. And I rather like the thought of such an amazing builder and prankster to be indebted to me. You owe me a big one after this is over, Grian."

An enthusiastic smile spread on Grian's face and if he wasn't still sitting in Bdubs lap he would have jumped into his arms then and there. He settled for simply throwing his arms around Bdubs and planting a sloppy kiss onto his cheek, leaving a deep red lipstick mark on it. "Bdubs! You are the best! I'm gonna build you the most amazing thing you can imagine for this!" Bdubs just half heartedly patted his back until Grian scrambled backwards to stand up so they'd be able to get started.

"Lead the way, little miss."

Grian couldn't even muster up the energy to throw a glare at the name, he was just too delighted at the moment. This might not be going to plan, but Doc didn't need to know. As long as Bdubs walked into his trap, he could celebrate victory and Grian's punishment would end. And then – Grian bit his lower lip, throwing one last glance at the upper level of the mansion – well, he'd see what happened when the time came.

Grian slowly ascended the stairs to the shared mine below the mansion, stepping down carefully, not to stumble in the high heels. After only a few shaking steps, Bdubs sighed and stepped up next to him, holding out one arm to steady him. Grian looked at him with a thankful smile, took a few more steps and then stopped, earning a confused glance from Bdubs.

"I can't do this.", he whispered, looking at Bdubs arm that held him, "I know you'll respawn, but still... You never did anything mean to me."

"I can decide on my own, Grian. I'm a grown ass man. And right now I want to help out my good friend get rid of his debt and maybe get laid. No backing out now. I'm ready to go off with a bang... Or whatever other nasty method Doc chose. And I sure as hell will get him back for it so don't you worry your pretty head over it."

Bdubs gave him a reassuring smile and kept walking, half pulling Grian with him, who had to fall in step not to fall down. When they got to the bottom of the stairs, Grian took a deep breath. Well, it was too late now to turn around and he wouldn't hesitate again. He'd much rather be indebted to Bdubs than to Doc, seeing what that maniac made him go through. After calming down a little Grian put a smile on his face and trying to pretend that everything was alright and going according to plan. Doc should be close by now after all.

"Just around the corner there! I prepared a nice little surprise for you. You just need to get it", Grian said and giggled a little, pretending that he had been able to convince Bdubs to come down here without knowing about the prank. As he looked at Bdubs stupid grin, Grian had to keep himself from looking too fondly at his friend.

"Wow, that is so nice! It is really amazing to have so many friends on this server! I can't wait to see the surprise!"

Bdubs let go of Grian's arm, throwing him one last smile. He jogged up to the corner and then turned to Grian, throwing him one last wink before walking on. A second later there was a deafening boom and hot wind and dust blew through the mine, making Grian's skirt flutter up.

"Well done." Doc stepped out of a side mine and Grian hurriedly pushed the fabric of his skirt down, throwing a glare in Doc's direction.

Doc didn't seem all to impressed by his glare and just kept walking over as Grian slowly stepped back. It only took a few steps for Grian's back to hit one of the walls and Doc's grin widened. He was looming over Grian, one hand pushed against the wall, the other gently resting under Grian's chin, making him look upwards. "Such a good boy, Grian. I feel like offering you something in return for your hard work."

"You are gonna let me keep my diamonds and the emeralds I traded."

An amused laugh left Doc's mouth as he shook his head. "No way. My villagers, my emeralds and my compensation. But you know I heard the rumours... Little Grian walking around and collecting kisses for some challenge. I'd be inclined to give you one more for your collection from the goat himself", Doc whispered in a low, promising voice. His thumb was gently caressing Grian's lower lip and Grian could feel his heart racing.

"Yeah...", he breathed out quietly, not sure what else to say below Doc's looming presence. The moment he answered Doc's lips were on his. It wasn't gentle and he knew his lips might be bruised and swollen later, but he didn't care. He put his arms around Doc, pulling him closer. And then he could feel a hand travelling up his leg, making his way under his skirt. Grian let out a little moan into the kiss, pressing his body even closer to Doc.

He needed to feel more. He needed... He wanted...

Suddenly an image sprang into his mind. Scar standing in front of his door, smiling at him, cheeks red and waving.

Grian pressed his eyes shut, trying to get rid of that thought. He didn't even know why he was thinking about that all of the sudden. He was about to get it on with one of the hottest guys on the server. This was no time to be distracted. He needed do savour this moment. It had been so long since he had any fun. He didn't even know why he had stopped going around the server looking for some fun... He had done it so often last season. And he couldn't even say that he was too busy getting started any more.

A hand grabbing his ass hard brought him out of his thoughts and back into the present. The tongue in his mouth was completely dominating him and he loved every second of it. They separated for a second and Grian opened his eyes again to look at Doc. Doc, who looked at him with such a hungry expression it send shivers through his whole body.

"How about we take this somewhere more comfortable? Not that I wouldn't just take you against this wall, but you don't seem like the type to do it outside."

Grian licked his lips, his heart beating so incredibly fast. He was trying to compose himself to give an answer, but words seemed to fail him at the moment. He hadn't expected for this to head in this direction, no matter what Bdubs had said. He finally settled to simply nod, earning himself a dark chuckle from Doc.

"Well then..."

Grian squeaked when he suddenly felt his feet lifting of the ground. Everything around him was shifting and suddenly he was lying atop of Doc's shoulder, like he weighed nothing and was just a sack to carry around. And he found himself kind of liking it...

The way up the stairs seemed to pass way too fast and it was as if only a few seconds had passed when he was thrown onto the pink sheets of Doc's bed. He looked up at Doc looming over him and took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

"I wanted to do this since I put you into this dress, you know? You look so fucking sexy in it.", Doc growled out, climbing on top of Grian, his hand caressing Grian's hip softly. "So fucking pretty."

And then his lips were on Grian's again and Grian could only whimper at the touch.

Doc was slowly unzipping the side of Grian's dress, pulling the fabric down.

Grian was about to get lost in the sensation, his hips bucking upwards on their own accord. And suddenly he froze. His mind going back to the desperate kiss he had shared with Scar in the End. The way Scar had looked at him. The way his heart had started beating faster. Oh damn it. Why was he thinking of that now?

Doc stopped suddenly, looking at Grian in question. He had probably noticed the way he had tensed up. "You alright?"

“Yeah. Yeah, keep going… Your hand was a little cold. That’s all”,he lied and smiled, letting his own hands wander over Doc’s back.

Doc looked at him as if searching for something, but then shrugged and bend down again, his lips going for Grian’s neck, gently nibbling the skin there. His mouth kept trailing down, leaving a burning hot trail on Grian’s skin.

Grian felt a wave of pleasure running through him, closing his eyes again as he threw his head back, only for his mind to go back to the time when he had made out with Scar in his base. Suddenly this felt so wrong and he didn’t even understand why. He just knew that he didn’t want to do it any more. He put his hands onto Doc’s chest and with gentle force he pushed the other away a little.

"I... Sorry, I can't. I'm just... I don't know. You are a fucking attractive guy but I'm... I guess I'm not in the mood. I keep getting distracted."

Doc heaved a sigh, but without Grian needing to say anything else he pulled the dress back up, patting his head and then standing up again. "Your clothes are in the closet around the corner. Take your time. I'm gonna go work off some steam."

“I am really sorry, Doc”, Grian mumbled, lowering his gaze. He honestly did feel bad for stopping, even if he hadn’t wanted to go on.

“No need to apologize or explain. It’s alright.” When Doc had almost reached the stairs down, he turned around again to look at Grian. "If you ever change your mind about this, you know where to find me. No pressure though. I prefer my partners to enjoy themselves…"

Grian stayed in the bed for a few more seconds, starring up at the ceiling. Damn. What had just happened? He must be really tired or something like that. Maybe he had been going around kissing too many people that his brain started mixing everything up… Yeah that sounded about right. Maybe he just needed to spend a few days without kissing anybody and then he would be focused on the task again…

It couldn’t have anything to do with Scar. All of this was just a game after all.

[chrissys2boys-dannysteve]

Things Getting Hot

The story is already from 2015, but was never posted by me on Tumblr. I just noticed that when I put together another masterpost of my stories.

“This...was the worst idea you ever had!” Danny shouted breathlessly to be louder than the heavy drumming rain he and Steve were currently running through.

“Come on, Danno, how is this my fault?” Steve dared to ask while he hurried after him.

He sent him a death glare over his shoulder. “Are you kidding me? It was your stupid plan to observe the suspect and come here. And now we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, while it’s raining like hell, because that damn bloody suspect STOLE MY CAR!”

Steve ignored some promising threats of pain Danny muttered under his breath and he said, “I think we should look for protection against the rain. It’s getting worse.”

“No kidding?!” Danny snorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “That thought never occurred to me! I actually like swimming through mud and rain with my clothes still on!”

“You could simply get rid of your clothes if that’s what is bothering you.” Steve suggested and glanced around in hope to find a shelter.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t- AHA! Found something! Come on!”

“Wha- Steven!”

He gave Danny no time to object. Instead he simply grabbed his elbow and pulled Danny with him. They had run a few more meters when Danny realized what they were heading towards.

“That’s a telephone booth, Steven.”

“Do you have a better idea? That’s what I thought.”

They arrived at the telephone booth and Steve wrenched it open before he ushered Danny in. Following him inside he let the door fall shut with a loud thud. It was just then that he realized how small that booth actually was.

“Steven…,” Danny started, still trying to catch his breath, “we can’t stay here. There’s no space for both of us.”

He couldn’t help admitting to himself that Danny was right. Danny’s back was intimately pressed against his front so that he was able to feel every breath he took. Swallowing hard he let his eyes wander over his frame. Despite the rain it had been a hot day, so Danny had left his jacket in the car. The white - and now wet - shirt Danny was wearing had become translucent, and allowed Steve to see Danny’s well-shaped upper body.

“Uhm…” Steve cleared his throat, “you’re probably right, I’ll just wait outside. You can stay here and I try to...” he trailed off. During his suggestion he had pushed the door with his back, but nothing had happened. No matter how hard he pressed his weight against it, it didn’t move an inch.

“Oh fuck…”

“What’s wrong?” Danny was alarmed immediately, obviously well aware of the dread in his voice.

“You’re not going to like it…”

“You don’t say.”

“I can’t open it.”

“What?”

“The door. I can’t open it. It’s stuck.”

Danny groaned in desperation. “Please...Steven, tell me you’re making a joke!”

“Sorry to disappoint you…”

“Not the first time today.”

Steve simply ignored his comment. “Do you have your mobile phone on you? Mine is lying in our car.”

“Great! Yes, I do. It’s in my back pocket.”

Despite this helpful news Danny made no move to get it. Steve furrowed his brows. “Danny?”

“It’s in my back pocket, Steven! He sounded annoyed and a bit embarrassed, and it took a moment for Steve to understand what the problem was.

When he finally did, he could help grinning smugly. His fierce partner didn’t dare reaching between their touching bodies. How interesting, he thought with a chuckle, only to earn a grumble from Danny.

“Hold still,” Steve said amused, taking the matter literally in his own hands.

Touching his butt hadn’t been Steve’s intention at all, but when he accidentally did, Danny startled so badly that he fought with every power he had to turn around in that very tight booth. Steve winced in pain, when Danny repeatedly stepped on his feet and rammed his elbow in his gut.

“What the hell, Steve?” he gasped as soon he was facing him.

His response was a whining. “I didn’t do it deliberately, Danno! Besides, I already got your phone!”

Danny murmured something under his breath and grabbed it from Steve’s hold, completely ignoring his sulking partner for a moment. “It’s not working. I think it might be wet,” Danny sighed.

“What’s with that phone?” Steve nodded to the telephone of the booth behind Danny. “Wait, don’t move!” He interjected reproachfully when Danny was about to turn around again. “I get this!”

“Fine,” Danny rolled his eyes and let Steve reach around him. “Try to call Chin.”

There was a moment of silence while Steve did as told. “I can’t, it’s dead.”

“What do you mean it’s dead.”

Steve shrugged. “I guess no one needs telephone booths anymore.”

“Well, apparently we do. Okay, let me get this straight. We’re stuck - not only in the middle of nowhere but also in a telephone booth with a not-working telephone. Our car has been stolen, my mobile is wet and nobody knows where we are. We have a cloudburst outside and something that feels like a sauna oven in here. Was that it?”

“Pretty much.”

“Great!” Danny groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. The thought that it was a beautiful sight flashed through Steve’s mind, even though Danny’s hair was wet. Or maybe even because of this fact.

“Relax Danno. We’ll get out of here somehow. You’ll see! Besides it could be worse, right?”

Danny took a deep breath and was about to say something agreeing, when he glanced outside. Or more precisely, he tried to glance outside. The glass of the telephone booth was fogged. Completely. It was impossible to see anything of the cloudy, rainy afternoon. Danny frowned at Steve and he raised his hands in defense.

“That’s really not my fault!”

“You’re breathing, aren’t you?” Danny stated dryly.

“Don’t make jokes Danno!”

“Oh shut up, Steve!”

They had been stuck in that booth for almost an hour and slowly but surely it was getting uncomfortable. Just out of sheer frustration Danny wrote ‘Help’ in the steam on the window.

“Now don’t be ridiculous, Danny. That’s a little bit over-dramatic, don’t you think?” Steve shook his head, still able to find a certain amusement in this situation.

Danny rolled his eyes at him. He tried to distance himself from Steve, but there simply was no room for that. The huge phone device bumped into his back and made him jerking forwards, actually bringing him even closer to Steve.

“Careful Danno,” Steve warned right into his ear, with his voice still amused and also low all of a sudden. As his arms sneaked around Danny’s middle to pull him away from the pain causing danger, he thought he felt Danny shivering slightly.

“Steve…” Danny’s breath got caught in his throat, but he had no idea what to say, his brain probably suffering the sudden loss of reasonable thoughts.

“Yes, Danny?” This time it was just a hoarse whisper that reached Danny’s sensitive ear, while Steve’s hot hands were burning his skin on the small of his back, right through his wet shirt. This time Steve made him trembling violently.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m keeping you from hurting yourself.”

“Uhm... well then.”

Steve smirked at his irritation, but that grin vanished suddenly while he was watching how Danny’s gaze wandered downwards. A flash of heat floated his body as he realized what Danny was staring at. He had tried to ignore it - actually he had pushed it far, very far, into the most distant corner of his mind - but now he couldn’t escape the fact any longer, that Danny was enticingly pressed against his body.

He was feeling him, every single piece of his senses. Danny’s chest were pressed against his, there were only their drenched shirts between them. All of it hiding practically nothing. Steve almost groaned. Once started he wasn’t able to stop his mind from taking in everything else about Danny. How the centers of their bodies were touching intimately. How one of his legs was caught between his. That was bad, really bad. And yet it felt so good.

Just when he decided that they had to bring some distance between them - no matter how - Danny lifted his head slowly and let their eyes met. Steve felt his knees getting weak on an instant. Danny’s eyes were gleaming, his cheeks were painted in a soft pink and his lips just had been wetted by his tongue. The breath escaped Danny’s mouth in chopped, hot puffs. An in addition to all that, he brought his palms to his chest.

“Steve…” He sighed, and Steve was pretty sure, that Danny was trying to stop what-ever-was-happening. However it sounded so sensual, that it kicked the last rational thought out of his mind.

“Fuck, Danny!” he groaned for real this time, his voice hoarse with desperation and desire. His hands on Danny’s lower back pulled him closer.

The air was thick and hot, and they were covered with a film of rain and sweat. Yet it seemed that both of them needed the proximity of each other more than ever. Steve let his hands trail over Danny’s back upwards over his shoulder and neck, until he could cup his cheek gently. Danny’s eyes were swimming with affection, longing and lust, so he closed them to as a desperate attempt to hide his feelings.

Compensating the loss of his eyes on him, Steve bent down in slow motion and allowed his lips to whisper over the skin right below Danny’s ear. Danny tilted his head to both, nestle his cheek further into Steve’s hand and give his lips more space. While pressing a warm kiss on his neck he caressed Danny’s cheek with his thumb before he moved his hand a bit to bury it in his wet hair.

When Steve teasingly nibbled at his earlobe, Danny gasped his name again and lifted one hand around Steve’s neck while the other is clutching his shirt. Steve shuddered as Danny’s fingernails were scratching his skin on both places. Encouraged he left open-mouthed kisses on his skin, kissing a way from his ear down to his collarbone. Danny threw his head back and his lower body arched against Steve’s. Still holding Danny close he only hesitated a second before his lips placed longing kisses on his sternum. He was about to move even lower when a throaty moan escaped Danny’s mouth.

“Steve…,” he breathed helplessly and carefully grabbed his head to pull him upwards. With a sensual sigh he pressed their lips together for their very first kiss. Finally getting what he had been longing for some time now, it felt as if his senses were exploding. Steve responded to Danny’s kiss in an instant, his mind and body inflamed with the need to never let him go again.

Their kiss was a back and forth between fast and fervent and heated and slow. They completely forgot about the time and their surroundings.

“Oh fuck, Steve, please stop…” Danny whispered desperately, but kissed him again almost at the same time.

“You first,” he breathed into his mouth and deepened the kiss passionately.

Danny whimpered but wasn’t able to break it either. They were so caught in each other’s presence that neither of them heard the thud.

“Steve?” There was the sound again. “Steve, Danny you in there?”

Danny tore his eyes open and pulled away as far as he could without hurting himself. (Therefore not very far). Steve merely blinked, not even moving his hands a single inch. Both of them struggled for air while staring at each other dumbfounded.

“Chin!” It was Steve who recovered his voice first.

“Got them,” both heard Chin say, probably to someone on the phone. “You’re both okay?”

“Yes...uhm...we...we’re stuck. The door jammed.”

There was a short pause on the other side of the door and Danny pressed his eyelids shut in embarrassment and annoyance. Steve chuckled. Danny opened his eyes again and glared at Steve, but with his face flushed like this, Danny looked fucking hot.

“Okay, hold on. I’ll get you out of there.”

“Thanks Chin.”

They heard Chin’s footsteps fading away and Danny glanced at Steve. “We, uhm should probably try to pull ourselves together. Quickly.”

“That’s not an...uhm...easy thing,” Steve replied dryly and got the chance to enjoy Danny’s blushing all over again. “I think we were equally involved in...that.”

“Should I…?” Danny started to move away. However, he didn’t get very far. Steve was still holding him in his embrace and made no effort to let him go.

“No, don’t move.” He shook his head. “Experience has shown that it won’t work like this anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. How do I look? Decent enough?”

Steve took his time to gaze at Danny, noticing his swollen lips, the red cheeks, and his white shirt which he had pushed out of his way earlier. He groaned from the bottom of his heart and answered, “Definitely not!”

Danny looked at Steve with a mixture of annoyance, pride and amusement. “You’re not any better, you know, Steven!? Especially since I can actually feel it.”

Steve chuckled, “I can feel you too, Daniel.”

They could hear Chin return, soon working on the door to free them. In the meantime Steve and Danny tried everything possible to gain back the control over their bodies.

It was just when they were looking nearly decent enough - at least considering their situation - that there was the loud sound of yowling metal audible. A few seconds later the door of the booth sprang open and Steve almost lost his balance, keeping himself (and Danny for that matter) from falling just at the very last moment. Both stumbled outside and exhaled with relief to fill to fill their lungs with cool and fresh air.

“Don’t say anything wrong!” Steve warned Chin.

The corners of Chin’s mouth twitched. “I wouldn’t dare.”

“How did you find us?”

“GPS and luck,” Chin simply stated. “And what happened?”

Not willing to share anything that had happened, Steve simply stared at Chin for a moment. Danny quickly walked over to Chin’s car, as soon he was out of earshot, Steve grinned like a Cheshire cat, “That’s classified,” was all he said, before he strolled past Chin to follow Danny.

Looking back at the telephone booth, Chin realized that it was really small in there. Especially for two men.

That’s classified, Steve had said.

‘Well’, Chin thought with a smirk, ‘I hope he sticks with that, because I really don’t want to know that story.’

Tagging list: @gatorasmus @surewouldbeinteresting @auntie17 @bookemfangirl @conny-keksi @mcdannoangelwolf @82tweeder @minahahj​ @mymcdanno @murphyhatesme @yoko787878 @mireilleleerves 

[todoshotoki]

𝙋𝘼𝙄𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂: amajiki tamaki x reader (can be taken platonically)

𝙏𝙍𝙄𝙂𝙂𝙀𝙍 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂: mentions of anxiety, anxiety attacks

𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙔: where togata and hado wasn’t around for presentation day and amajiki suffers from an anxiety attack.

𝙒𝙊𝙍𝘿 𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙉��: 1.2K 

you and tamaki weren’t that close. you exchanged words every now and then comfortably on both ends as you two were a mutual friend of nejire.

he was more comfortable nowadays with conversing with the ones in his class without tensing up which made both his peers and himself incredibly happy.

although his anxiety never left him, it was more bearable.

but when it came to solo presentations, all he wanted to do was hide. “i can’t do that! i’ll just take my F,” he would sigh, cowering slightly in his seat. the eyes staring at him was overwhelming to say the least. watching his every move like a hawk, making impressions with even the smallest motions he made.

the idea of it all just terrified him.

tamaki decided instead of presenting in front of the teacher outside of class hours that he would shoot his shot at presenting in front of the whole class.

but he wanted nothing but to skip when he heard that mirio wouldn’t be there due to a stomach bug, his nerves started up again. at least he had nejire to focus on when he was presenting.

one by one his classmates came and went through their presentations. he fumbled with his fingers under the table, bouncing his leg up and down, and constantly shifted in his seat. he had yet to find a comfortable position to ease his anxiety.

what didn’t click to him when they would present that nobody was looking at them funny. it was like everyone his enemy when he was standing up there with his shaky arms and stuttering. outside of hero training and these such vulnerable positions, he was praised but his mind would do everything but remind him of that fact.

the class phone rung and broke tamaki out of his trance. a few soft exchanges between “ms. hado, you’ve been called down to the development studio, take this pass and you’ll be presenting tomorrow,” the homeroom teacher says, passing a slip of signed paper to her. “okay, thank you,” she takes the pass and exits the classroom.

as the door closing, it’s like the classroom’s oxygen is now trapped outside the door.

the panic starts to creep up on tamaki as he realizes that he’s really just alone in this situation right now. it starts with his heart racing and him slightly trembling but it was quick to escalate as he felt like he wasn’t in control of his breath.

it wasn’t occurring to him that it was an anxiety attack but rather a full scale villain attack on the school.

there was pressure on his chest, he put his hand over it. it was tightening everso slightly and it started to squeeze at his lungs.

a heart attack???

it couldn’t be? could it?

was he dying?

he was dying.

if he stayed any longer he would die.

his brain became fogged with soundless voices telling him that something was wrong. sirens were wailing in his head and nobody around him would notice.

his vision became blurry with tears.

did he sign a death pact or something?

they all intentionally were going to die.

everything was wrong and oh my god he was in the eye of the storm.

he abruptly just got up and headed for the door. he couldn’t hear anything except pleas from his consciousness to get out.

he needed to breathe. he needed to get out.

where was- i can’t-

he needed to take cover from something but he couldn’t find where???

is he dead?

was this real? he couldn’t do this not right now- not today.

his head felt weightless- numb almost.

nothing was real nothing was really happening this was all just a simulation.

a fake reality that tricked everyone that things weren’t okay? where was he???

he was stuck. he couldn’t move.

it’s no use, i’ll die here.

“amajiki,” someone called out to him.

he couldn’t see. he couldn’t look into the person’s eyes. he couldn’t- he would die if he-

“amajiki,” the feminine voice called out once again, “you’re just having a panic attack, you’re not dying,” they reassured.

he tried to open his mouth but the dryness of his throat only let him gasp out in the pain he was feeling.

his lungs were on fire- fuck- what does he do???

he covered his ears and whimper strung out of his throat. “you’re okay,” the muffled voice says.

the smell?

the smell of perfume.

was it really her?

“tamaki, open your eyes, it’ll be okay,”

it was a trap it was a trap it was a trap

“you’re okay, take your time,” a finger rested on his wrist. he slightly flinched at the sensation.

“when you feel my finger on your wrist, breathe in, and when you feel it come off, breathe out. you’re going to be okay. it’s just an anxiety attack. you’ve always come out the other end so you can do it now.”

an anxiety attack.

that’s all it was.

but what if he couldn’t-

“take your time,” the voice said one more time.

he felt it again on his wrist.

breathe in.

it came off.

breathe out.

he was struggling. could he really?

“take your time, there’s no need to rush,”

slowly but surely, he started to open his eyes. he saw you right in front of him, a smile on your face. “you’re not trapped tamaki, you’re free.” there was no doubt on your expression. it helped him ease through the blood pumping adrenaline his body was experiencing.

“okay, name five things you can see,”

it was only then when he realized he had made his way into the hallway, “t-the tile floor, the b-boys bathroom s-sign, t-the ceiling lights, m-my uniform-“ looked at you, “y-your smile,” he blushed a little on this one as he heard you chuckle slightly.

“good, now four things you can touch,”

his hand was on the floor, he was sitting on the floor, “the floor,”

the wall he was leaning on, “the wall,”

he became aware of the feeling of his feet in his dress shoes, “my shoes,”

he then looked down at your finger, still resting on his wrist, “your finger,”

“three things you can hear?”

“my voice, your voice, and the sound of the buzzing lights,”

“two things you can smell?”

“your perfume, the food from the food court,”

“one thing you can taste?”

he scrunched up his face at the taste of his dry mouth.

“you don’t have to answer that one,” you laughed at his face of distaste.

he finally became conscious of the hair sticking to his forehead as a result of his stress and sweat. he probably looked sad and tired out.

“see i knew you could do it,” seeing how much you smiled at him made him wonder, do your face muscles tired of you smiling so much?

“i’m sorry for freaking out like that, that was so embarrassing, i really thought that i could do it today,”

“it’s okay, no need to stress out about it. you’re special to everyone and everybody is completely fine if there’s a minor setback, okay?” you say, helping him up from off the floor.

“no matter what your brain thinks, we all care about you and we could never hate you,”

[miracul0us-multishipper]

Welcome to the back (Part 14)

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Two days earlier, on Monday:

Felix had locked himself in a bathroom stall, seconds from breaking down. He couldn’t breath, throat constricting with a scream he’d successfully kept in for over a year now. Bordeaux was gone, as far from him as legally possible, and yet he’d found a way to watch him like a hawk, wherever he was. Felix buried his face in his hands, as if they could shield him from the scornful gaze he felt on him. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t face him, couldn’t let Rossi-

“Felix!”, a voice whispered from behind him and he jumped up. A ridiculously oversized pair of glasses was visible through the window beneath the ceiling. Attached to it was an obviously fake nose, and behind it glistened the most beautiful eyes Felix had ever seen.

“Marinette!”, he almost sobbed as his savior pushed herself through the window. Why was she wearing a bikers helmet? And was that a cape?

“It’s Marino!”, she grumbled, faking a lower voice. “I’m a boy! Which is why I am able to, you know. Get into the boy’s bathroom.”

“What?”, Felix frowned, the realized. “Oh! Uh, we’re alone, Marc checked. But Lila’s waiting outside the door, so don’t be so loud.”

“You mean I dressed up for nothing?! Aw, man!”

With a groan, she pulled the helmet off. He couldn’t resist but straighten the tangled strands (helmet hair, Kagami had told him during their last chess match). Marinette’s hair was so soft!

He shook his head, focusing on the matter at hand.

“I need your help!”

“I sure hope so. I’d be hella mad if I crawled through that window for nothing.”, she deadpanned, then took of the glasses and turned serious. “What happened? Marc only told me you barricaded yourself in here and wanted to see me. He thinks you’re having a heart attack! Or that you...”

She blushed, and Felix cursed Marc’s big mouth. If he’d said anything about confessing or the likes of that, he was a dead man!

“N-nevermind. Now tell me what’s up.”

“Lila’s blackmailing me!”, he hissed, panic starting to rise up in him again. “She’s found my father, who hates my guts, and now they’re working together! I can’t- Marinette, I don’t know- I don’t want-“

“Shshsh, sh! It’s alright!”, she whispered when he started to lose control again, pressing her hand over his mouth. “Don’t get too loud, remember? Everything’s going to be fine, I promise. Just... breathe, okay? Slowly.”

He did as told. His hands were still trembling, but his thoughts became clearer again. That, and the fact that Marinette was very, very close, lead him to two realizations.

One: No matter what was going to happen, Marinette would be there for him.

Two: If she didn’t take her hand from his mouth very quickly, he’d do something very stupid that involved both their hands and mouths, but in an entirely different context.

Focus!

“René Bordeaux is my father.”, he tried to set things straight. “He’s working as chief editor at TV1, and he’s the producer of this goddamn contest. He intercepted your report and gave it to Rossi, who filmed herself mimicking everything you did and likely managed to make it look professional. If I don’t cater to her every whim, Bordeaux will publish both videos and proof with some stupid, faked time stamp that hers is the original. He’ll frame you as a copycat.”

“I’d be ruined.”, she breathed in shock. “That would be game over for me!”

He nodded.

“I’m playing along for now, but I don’t know how long I can keep this up. I’d do everything for you, Marinette, you know that, but my father...”

He swallowed.

“He scares me. I can’t let him control me like this!”

“I know.”, Marinette assured him, taking his face in both her hands. “Felix, I know. We’ll find a solution, I promise.”

“How?”, he whispered. He knew Marinette, knew that she could make the impossible a reality by sheer willpower as it seemed, but he couldn’t fathom a way she could get him out of this.

“We’ll take this slow.”, Marinette ordered. Her eyes had that calculated shine he loved so much and he calmed a bit. “First, we’ll have to keep Lila placated.”

“She wants me to humiliate you in front the class. I’m supposed to become her boyfriend, Marinette.”

He shivered in disgust.

“Her boyfriend!”

“Ew.”

“Exactly!”

Marinette tapped her chin.

“But that’s a good thing, actually. The humiliation part, I mean, not you being her boyfriend. She wants me to suffer, and she’s so convinced of her own brilliance that she’ll buy any suffering I can show. She’s desperate to win, desperate to believe she won. Get it?”

“I’ll play along. You’ll act all hurt, and then Lila won’t pay any attention to you.”, he concluded. “Then what? Rossi’s one thing, but Bordeaux-“

“What does he get out of all of this?”

He blinked, his mind racing.

“I... I don’t know. He hates me, I don’t know what he wants with me.”

His eyes widened.

“My mother! He’s obsessed with her, maybe he needs me to have his sick kind of reunion with her.”

“That’s a start.”, she nodded. “Any idea what he’ll do next?”

“Hm.”

His father was a bastard, but he was predictable. He was flashy. Arrogant. A one-man show. As Felix knew him, he’d want to meet him in person to torment him. Bordeaux knew how his son felt about him. And since he wanted to display his power over him, he likely wanted that meeting on his terms, his ground.

“He’ll make Rossi deliver me to him.”, Felix deducted. “Either to his home or his work place. Not the public, where we could be seen. No, and not his home either! That would give me access to something personal, and he doesn’t want me too close.”

He nodded.

“TV1. That’s where he’ll meet me.”

“The awards show.”, Marinette realized. “That way no one will bat an eye if two students stroll through the building. He’ll wait at the TV1 tower, during the awards show.”

“We have time and place.”, Felix summed up. “But the tower is huge! There’s a million places he could-“

“I’ll get us the outlay of the building.”, she interrupted him. “I can come and go as I please, I babysit Nadja Chamack’s daughter. Oh! Nadja Chamack!”

She clapped her hands.

“I have an idea. Trust me, Felix, everything will be alright.”

-

Lila’s obsession with Felix turned out to be useful. She was so fixated on him, she didn’t notice how Marinette quietly took Alya aside.

“She’s lying.”, Marinette announced without any further intro. Alya flinched, but didn’t roll her eyes like she would’ve done a week before.

“Why do you think that?”

“I’ve seen Ladybug yell at her in the park, on her first day. Lila threatened me when I confronted her. And just now, Felix asked for my help because she’s blackmailing him.”

Alya opened her mouth, but Marinette was faster.

“No, you’re going to listen to me now. You’ve known me for what feels like forever, and I trust you. That’s why I am telling you this. Lila is manipulating anyone, and I won’t let her get away with it. But I need your help.”

She took Alya’s hand.

“Alya, I’m begging you to trust me! Please, believe in me just this once. If we don’t prove Lila’s a liar, she’ll hurt Felix and I can’t let that happen. Please, Alya. Please!”

Alya’s gaze trembled and she gulped.

“Marinette, Lila can’t... I... She...”

Her eyes closed and she took a deep breath, calming her mind. When she opened them again, they were hard with resolve.

“Okay.”, she said, and Marinette sighed in relief. “I trust you. Tell me what to do.”

-

Convincing Max to help them was a lot easier. She had intercepted him before class, to ask for his help.

“Max, wait!”, she asked and pulled him aside before he could reach the door. “I need to talk to you. We need your-“

“I’m in.”

She blinked, taken aback.

“W-What?”

The computer ace pushed his glasses up and crossed his arms.

“I said I’m in. Whatever it is you’re planning, I’ll help you.”

“How do you know I’m-“

“Oh please.”, Max sighed. “I’m not blind. Everyone can see how Felix looks at you, and how he looks at Lila, who has revealed herself to be more than shady. There’s no way he’s playing lovebirds with her on his own volition, and, knowing you, you will not be complacent. So I’ll help you.”

“Me too!”, Kim’s voice seconded and Marinette turned around. He, Nathaniel and Alix has walked up to them out of nowhere.

“Yeah!”, Nathaniel agreed. “Marc told me Felix had a breakdown because of Lila. I mean, the guy’s creeping me out but no one messes with my boyfriend’s friends!”

“Ditto!”

Marinette looked at them, heady with an elevating mixture of joy, pride and relief. They were believing her. They had chosen her!

My friends have my back!

-

“Madame Chamack!”, Marinette greeted the reporter when she came to pick up Manon. “Do you have a second?”

“Of course!”, she replied, hugging her daughter. “What is it?”

“I have a story for you.”, Marinette announced, praying to Tikki for good luck. “About your superior, René Bordeaux.”

Nadia’s eyes widened and she took out her phone. One could get the impression she didn’t like her boss.

“Do tell. A story?”

She nodded.

“But to bust him, I’ll need your help.”

Nadja looked at her with a calculating interest.

“Well,” she said. “I trust you with my daughters wellbeing. It would be hypocritical not to trust you with this.

She smiled adventurously.

“What do you need?”

-

“This is the TV1 tower.”, Marinette explained in the commanding officer voice she’d learned from military movies. Additionally to the ones she’d already convinced, Alya had brought Juleka and Rose to Marinette’s place, and Nino had shown up with Ivan and Mylène. How Chloé and Sabrina had gotten in, nobody knew, but they sure weren’t going to send them away.

“Wait, where’s Adrien?”, Nino asked and reached for his phone, but Marinette slapped it out of his hand as if it might explode.

“NOT COMING!”, she hissed, before catching herself. “And you can’t tell him anything!”

“But...”, he faltered, “why?”

She sighed. Nino adored his best friend, he wouldn’t like the truth.

“You’ll see when everything’s over.”, she simply said and straightened.

“Back to the plan!”

She snapped her ruler against the blueprint she’d hung over her schedule. (It did have its advantages to have a yo-yo with unlimited scanning abilities.)

“This is the TV1 tower,” she repeated, “and this is the floor the Awards are going to be filmed on. It’s a live show, so Lila will have to be present in the studio. There’s only a few small time windows she could deliver Felix to his father.”

She stepped aside, revealing a time schedule she’d gotten from Nadja Chamack.

“The most likely time will be around 8.40 o’clock in the evening, during the first ad break. It only lasts ten minutes, which limits the places she could go to.”

She pointed to a couple of rooms on the layout of the floor.

“The way to Bordeaux’s office takes five minutes running, which means it would be impossible to get there, talk, and return in time. No, the location of the meeting has to be on the same floor. It’s either going to be Jagged Stones studio, the studio for the news, or this empty recording room.”

Rose raised his arm and she pointed her ruler at him.

“Yes?”

“The recording studio is out!”, she informed, proud that she could help. “We wanted to tell you already, but didn’t have the time yet. Kitty Section has gotten permission to use it this weekend, but there was a technical problem with the power, so we had to reschedule.”

Ivan nodded.

“No one’s allowed to enter during the repairs.”

“And scratch the news channel as well!”, Nathaniel chimed in. “Mireille told Aurore who told Marc who told me that they have to prepare everything for the 9 o’clock special. They’re doing a documentary on cloud formations or something.”

Marinette beamed.

“Perfect! Jagged’s studio, then. I can get us in!”

She pointed at Max and Nino.

“Here comes your part: As the tech savvy’s of our task force, you’ll take care of the cameras. We don’t know where Bordeaux will stand, so-“

“Actually, we do!”, Alix said smugly. “We’ll use the Rebellious-Kid strategy.”

Marinette leaned her head to the side.

“Eh?”

“It’s what I use on my dad when I don’t want him snoopin’ around in my room. We’ll make everything messy, with cables and equipment lying around - except for one spot in the middle and the way up to it.”

The skater blew her bangs out of her face and grinned.

“We’ll guide them right into the spotlight.”

“Brilliant!”, Marinette cheered, accidentally hitting Alya with the ruler. “Oh, sorry.”

Her best friend sighed exasperated, but smiled.

“So, we have them in the spotlight.”, she repeated. “Then what? How do we make them spill the beans?”

Marinette smirked.

“Believe me, they’ll do it all on their own. It’s the same as Bob Roth; it worked then, it’ll work now. And if they missed something to gloat about, Felix will subtly guide them to the right topic.”

“Quick question, though.”, Mylène spoke up. Her hands were fidgeting nervously. “Not that I don’t trust you - I do! - and if you need our help, we’ll be there. But, uhm. Isn’t filming them without their consent... illegal?”

Chloé chuckled, drawing the attention to her.

“Oh please. If it brings that annoying liar down, I’ll hire every lawyer in Paris to cover us.”

She sighed.

“But if it calms you, that won’t be necessary. The only legal threat is Bordeaux, and as a public figure, he’s basically public domain. Lie-la won’t have enough money to out-sue me.”

“Uh, thanks Chloé!”, Marinette said hesitantly, not sure if it was a good idea to encourage her. “But there’s a way to prevent a law suit.”

She patted Alya on the shoulder.

“Lila wants a platform where she can boast about herself, and Miss Ladyblog here can give that to her. In return, Lila will have to sign a declaration of consent. Got it?”

Alya gave her a thumbs up.

“Copy that.”

“What’s the rest of us supposed to do?”, Kim urged them on and Sabrina nodded impatiently. “We want to help as well!”

“I need you to suck up to Lila.”

A collective groan went through the room.

“Stop whining!”, Chloé ordered. “If you start avoiding her all of a sudden, she’ll know we’re onto her!”

“Easy for you to say!”, Alix complained. “You’ve been glaring at her since the beginning, you won’t have to start being nice now!”

“So? That sounds like a you-problem!”

“Guys! Chill. Let the Lady speak.”

Marinette sighed.

“Thanks, Nino. I know you don’t like this, but it’s vital to our mission that we keep Lila in the dark!”

“I don’t even like Felix, and now I gotta cuddle with someone Marinette calls a liar for him.”, Kim mumbled and Alix shoved him.

“Shut up. Ya wanna leave him at his old man’s mercy? That guy’s an abuser, judging by what Mari told us!”

“‘Course not.”, the jock gave in immediately. “Didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then we have a plan!”, Marinette concluded proudly and slapped her ruler on the table. “Let’s take some cookies from downstairs and get to work!”

Everyone cheered.

-

“Marinette, you know I’d give you the keys to my jet if you asked.”, Jagged assured her nervously. “Well, and if you were old enough to fly it. But this does seem a bit much.”

He was looking around in the studio, where her classmates were scurrying around like a plague of mice. They were ripping cables out of plugs, repositioning cameras and microphones, and Kim was obviously having the time of his life with a promo guitar. Marinette had to admit, they were being a bit too... enthusiastic.

“We’ll clean everything up again, I promise.”, she said, just when Chloé walked past them, carrying another black curtain for the walls.

“It’s a revenge project!”, she huffed out, overly exhausted from carrying a single piece of fabric. “Lila’s blackmailing Marinette and stealing her work. Also, she lied to me about Ladybug.”

Her grin was malicious.

“So now we’re bringing her down!”

Jagged Stone froze. Marinette would swear to the end of times she saw his eyes glow.

“Gimme that!”, he ordered Kim and snatched the Promo guitar right out of his hands. “Rock’n’Roll!”

With that, he crashed the instrument on the ground, cackling like a maniac.

“Let’s freaking demolish this place! Penny, cancel my appointments for the day! We’re raining anarchy on that whatever-her-name-was!”

Penny sighed heavily.

“There goes movie night.”

Marinette patted her on the back, caught between pride and regret. Maybe bringing Jagged together with the force of chaos that were her classmates hadn’t been such a good idea.

-

Marinette was nervous. She believed in her friends, and she trusted in her own capabilities. The plan was good! It was basically foolproof, as long as no one let something slip.

Still. When she arrived at the TV1 tower, wearing her self made beret and a matching outfit, she was itchy with fear.

“You can do this, Marinette.”, Tikki whispered from her hiding place. “Don’t lose face now!”

She nodded. If Lila caught wind of her odd behavior, she’d get suspicious. Marinette had to get a grip on herself. Felix was counting on her!

And, on a more selfish note, she definitely couldn’t handle seeing him with Lila anymore. The girl was all over him, as if he were some sort of pet or toy! While Marinette had known she’d make Felix say something hurtful to Marinette, back in class, she still hadn’t expected it to... hurt. Stupid of her, but she couldn’t turn the feeling off. Seeing Lila bill and coo with Felix just made her want to puke.

She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. The others were in the studio already, where the interviews would be filmed. They couldn’t afford to be seen together unless absolutely necessary, to keep Lila in the dark. The halls were mostly empty now, just a few TA’s running around to carry out last minute orders. She would use the time alone to steady herself before joining the audience in-

“Woaaaah!”, she yelped. Her foot had missed a step and sent her tumbling down the stairs, where a pair of arms caught her just in time.

“Marinette?”, a familiar voice asked in surprise and she froze. Hectically, she stood up and put some distance between herself and her savior. (Pah! Savior, how ridiculous.)

“Adrien”, she said coldly and straightened her clothes. The boy winced at the cruel sound to his name.

“Marinette, I wanted to talk to you.”, he hurried to say. “I know you were avoiding me, but I wanted to say that I’m-“

“We’re past apologies now.”, she brushed him off and turned to leave. “And you should have taken the hint. I’m done waiting for you to grow a spine.”

“Please”, he insisted and grabbed her elbow, forcing her to stop. “Marinette, I’m sorry for what you’re going through. And I understand that you’re hurt, I really do. Lila’s lies are affecting me as well.”

“Oh, poor Adrien.”, she scoffed. “His life in shambles because of lies he himself spread. Throw your pity party elsewhere.”

“Don’t do this, Marinette.”, he whispered and she hesitated. He sounded... terrified. “Please don’t push me away. I... I don’t want to be alone again.”

She knew his home. Knew his broken family, his solitude in the golden cage Gabriel Agreste had built him. So against her instinct, she turned around again to hear him out.

“Keep this quick, will you?”, she mumbled and he lightened up.

“Marinette, I thought a lot about you lately,” Adrien said. A while back, these words would’ve meant everything to her. Now, she only felt numb. “And about how things used to be.”

He took something out of his pocket and showed it to her. The colorful beads of the Lucky Charm she’d given him made his hand seem pale in comparison.

“I know you like Felix a lot. And it wasn’t my place to tell you to push him away. But I do want our friendship to be like it used to be, when you gave me your lucky charm. It means a lot to me, and so do you!”

He smiled.

“I... I hoped that we could go back to that, somehow. Now that the whole Felix thing has resolved itself on its own.”

Resolved on its own?! Not only had Adrien failed to realize that Felix had never been the problem, but now he called Lila’s obsession with him a solution?!

“Look,” she said, trying to hide her annoyance. “I get that you don’t want to be left behind. But you can’t... What are you staring at?!”

Adrien jumped, snapping out of his fixation. The lucky charm fell out of his hand and clattered to the ground. He had glared at her chest in disbelief, as if hypnotized. No, not at my chest, Marinette realized when she grasped for her collar. Her necklace had slipped out when she’d fallen down the stairs, and the Miraculous was out in the open. She closed her hand around it out of reflex, pulling away when Adrien raised his hand to touch it.

“Marinette...”, he murmured, eyes fixed on her hand. “Is that...?”

He looked up to her face, his gaze unreadable.

“That’s a very pretty pendant.”, he said slowly, with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. His voice was devoid of emotion, sending chills up her spine. “Would you mind if I borrowed it for a second? I’d like to take a closer look.”

Marinette stumbled back, Adrien followed the movement.

“Where did you get it?”, he asked in a tone that was far too friendly for his expression. “Did you make it yourself? Or was it... a gift, perhaps?”

She swallowed, her back hitting the wall.

“I-I need to go!”

Her voice was thin and threatening to break. Adrien’s scarily hollow smile widened.

“It won’t take long.”

He reached for the ring.

“Just give it to me for a moment. And then you can go to the others.”

Her mind was screaming at her to run, but she was cornered. Adrien’s gaze was a dangerous kind of hungry.

“Just...”

His hand came closer.

“...a quick...”

The green of his eyes was hidden by the blackness of his blown wide pupils.

“...look.”

His fingers touched her hand, and suddenly her blood seemed to be replaced with pure, crackling electricity.

“No!”, she shouted and slapped his hand away. Muscle memory kicked in and she gave him a shove, hooking her foot behind his knee and sending him onto the floor. “Don’t touch me!”

Her fingers were clutching the ring as if her life depended on it and she backed away from the groaning boy on the floor.

“You made your choice!”, she yelled at him. “You decided what was more important to you! It was right versus easy, and you picked the wrong side!”

She was breathing heavily, realizing she had been seconds from losing the Black Cat. Maybe he was more observant than she knew, or maybe he had read something in his father’s book, but Adrien knew the truth about the ring.

He had wanted to take it from her.

He had cornered her, and wanted to take it from her.

“I have no idea what’s wrong with you!”, she hurled at him when he tried to get up. “And I don’t care about it anymore! Anything that happens now is your own fault, and if the others turn your back on you for lying to their faces - then because you turned your back on them first! I am done with you, Agreste!”

Adrien held his shoulder, aching from where it had cushioned his fall. His eyes were back to their usual green, but she took another step back all the same.

“The- The others?”, he panted. “But why would... I... I didn’t mean to... Wait.”

He looked at her, fear flashing in his eyes.

“Marinette.”

She gulped when she noticed she might have said too much.

“What did you do?”

There was no answer for him. Marinette turned on her heel and ran.

-

By the time the interviews were over, Marinette’s pulse had slowed to its normal rate again. The ring rested safely beneath her shirt, and she forced herself not to think about Adrien. For now, her attention was needed elsewhere.

“Okay, go go go!”, she hurried her classmates as soon as Lila had left the studio and the ads began. They only had a few minutes to get to their places. Felix, who had been informed of their plans by Marc in the boy’s bathroom, would buy them time by arguing with Lila. While they were talking in the main corridor, Marinette and the others would sneak out through the back door, slip into Jagged’s studio and hide behind the curtains they had hung up. Nadja Chamack opened the door for them.

“This better pay off!”, she muttered under her breath and gestured to the back. “Everything’s ready. Your friends have set up the main camera, and my Camera man Charles and I will film from our hiding place.”

She pointed at Max.

“Green guy’s taking care of the live stream. Everyone in Paris will see what’s happening.”

Marinette nodded.

“You won’t be disappointed.”, she promised and pulled the curtains closed.

“Now we only have to wait.”