#and yes… this will be Don’s first date ever okay? HE NEEDS A ROUND OF APPLAUSE!

[sassyandclassy94]

That moment when you come up with something you really wanna use in your dialogue and you write, write, write to lead up to only to ACCIDENTALLY LEAVE OUT AND FORGET THE ENTIRE LINE OF DIALOGUE😭

It was supposed to have: “Whoah, hey wait. Are you telling me that this will be your first date? Ever?”

I just blew on past that as if I hadn’t had it on my mind all freaking week!

[eviesaurusrex]

ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ʙʟɪꜱꜱ | ꜱ. ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ

GIFs by the awesome @cumberbatchlives

Stephen Strange x Stark!Witch!Reader

summary: Stephen and YN—world famous Avengers (but kinda retired)—are picking up their kids from school. That’s it. That’s the summary.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: nothing, pure fluff, a bit of married bickering

author's note: These GIFs have me in a chokehold ever since seeing them for the first time. For timeline’s sake, there wasn’t a blip and no, I didn’t forget about it while writing and was too lazy to rewrite it leave me alone o.o

"Yes, Tony, we're coming. I told Pepper two weeks ago when I got her invitation," YN spoke while holding the newest (futuristic) Stark phone in hand and left the subway station. The odd stares from every single person around her were something she had become accustomed to years ago, but more like a decade. The earplugs canceled their hushed, but not hushed at all, whispers at least. "I wanted to make sure you didn't forget it—or that douchebag talked you out of it." Eye rolling, YN typed a quick text as she listened to her brother. Even after ten years of dating and six of them married, Tony still had to annoy the hell out of Stephen. "I want to see my nephews and my niece, and Morgan would love some company that can keep up with her mentally." She knew what he meant. Morgan was exceptionally bright—it was in their blood, after all—and her own children had gotten the full dose of Stark and Strange intelligence. The quartet was as close as friends could get.

She sighed softly. "Did you already talk to Midtown?" But she knew the answer to that. "You know Pepper doesn't want her to feel out of place between all the older students, so we're waiting, I guess. It's probably the best anyway." Humming, YN rounded the block corner to reach her kids' school. "I suppose it is. But you can take a deep breath now because we're coming over the weekend. But please, don't annoy my husband, would you? Try to be a decent adult for at least 48 hours. Think about it as a pre-birthday present for your most loved sister." Smiling, YN waved to one of the already waiting moms as she approached the private school's gate and laughed as she heard Tony's groan. "That's an even harder task than fighting Thanos, but yes, okay. I will try, but only if he tries as well! Gotta go, evil spawn, my girls are coming home. Don"t forget to bring the good wine!" And with that, the older Stark ended the call and left YN with a soft shake of her head.

The earplugs disappeared in her bag just as the tunes of today's end echoed over the courtyard and the first students came rushing out of the building. YN pushed her sunglasses up to place them on her head, and her smile morphed into a grin as the mop of dark curls of her youngest appeared between all the other kids. As soon as she saw her mom, the girl grinned as bright as the sun above them and hurried over the court to get to her. "MOM!" Laughing, YN caught her with open arms and pressed the five-year-old tightly against her. "Hello, sunshine," she greeted the small girl, bent down, and peppered kisses all over her head. It had been Stephen who had picked the kids up in the last couple of days because even though the couple was retired from their lives as world's mightiest heroes, sometimes the world still needed them. "Did you fight the bad people?" Ophelia was always eager to know everything about her mom's superhero duties, and YN always obliged every order to tell every single story.

They never needed books full of bedtime stories.

Pushing the soft curls behind her small ears, YN grinned. "Sure thing, munchkin. Just as easy as eating that ice cream I bought this morning and which is waiting for a special girl and her very special rainbow spoon." Ophelia started to clap while jumping on the spot. "Can I have some instead of lunch? Please, Mommy!" This kid knew what she had to do in order to soften her mother's heart, and YN nodded without thinking. "But first, I wanna see those math homework done, deal?" She had to pretend at least as if she wasn't as soft as she certainly was for her children.

Tough superhero, my ass, she thought with a smile and raised a hand to wave to her two eldest children as they finally appeared at the front door. The seven-year-old twins—Vincent and Peter—let their eyes wander, and just as they settled on top of their mother and sister, a familiar body appeared next to her.

"Right on time, I see," Stephen grinned down on his two girls, and Ophelia screeched before jumping into her father's arms. "I thought Mom would be the only one picking us up!" One could barely understand her words because her voice climbed higher and higher at the excitement she felt in her small body. The sorcerer grinned even wider. "Well, then, my surprise most definitely worked out. Hello, sunshine." He kissed her small cheeks before setting her back on the ground and opening his arms for the twins. Only Peter jumped into them, but Vincent pressed himself against his side.

His hand softly carded through his unruly mop of hair while moving Peter softly to find the perfect position. "Didn't you say something about being away for the next week?" Vincent always was the more straightforward of the twins. Peter was just happy to have his father back sooner than he thought.

Stephen hummed while walking them both the short distance over to his wife and their mother. "That's right, but I finished a lot faster than anticipated," was all he told them before reaching his wife with the knowing look in her mesmerizing eyes. "More like you threw them insult after insult in their poor faces and just vanished through one of your portals, love," she returned and waited until Peter was put back onto the ground to hug her boys. "What do we do when we see Mom after an awful lot of time, boys?" The twins blinked up to her, crystal blue eyes shining brightly and soft grins tucked at their lips. "Hello, Mom!" They both spoke in unison, and YN laughed softly before bending down and pressing loving kisses on their heads. "Hello to you too. School was okay? No bullies treating you wrongly anymore?"

YN really hoped that her talk to the headmaster was something that helped the situation instead of making it worse.

"He isn't at the school anymore. Best birthday present ever, Mom, thank you!"

Grinning with that hint of mischievousness she had to herself, the mother nodded, satisfied. "Very well, then. You guys take your sister between you, and we can head home as soon as I greet your dad." And with that, the former Stark pulled Stephen to her and enveloped his broad shoulders into a tight embrace, and took the feeling of his lips against hers in after he had bent his head. Her fingers softly carded through his dark hair while her other thumb caressed his jawline, and a soft sigh escaped her at the feeling of his skin against hers.

Even though they had known each other for so long and had been in a relationship for a decade, she felt as thrilled as she had been during their first shared kiss. YN didn’t believe that this would change anytime soon—or ever.

“Are you alright?” Stephen asked in a husky whisper, lips still touching, while his eyes opened and scanned her face for any visible marks or scratches. YN smiled up to him, gently bumping the tip of her nose against his. She may be an Avenger, and a powerful one at that, but Stephen always worried about her—but well, she worried about him just as much. “I am,” she nodded, but her barely palpable flinch as the pad of his thumb made contact with the skin stretching over her left cheekbone gave her away. Her husband’s brows furrowed tremendously, and his eyes stared at the spot, now discovering the deception his wife had created with makeup. “I didn’t want to worry the kids,” YN whispered at the sight of realization in his eyes, and Stephen nodded. “Of course. But don’t you dare think I will let you get away with this. As soon as they are nose deep in their books, I will demand a look on it, wife.” Grinning, the woman nodded. “Of course, husband,” she replied, pressing their lips together another time before turning to their beautiful children, who occupied themselves with hopscotching over the drawn numbers.

Vincent and Peter had their eyes settled on their younger sister like hawks, ready to jump to her aid whenever she stumbled. Ophelia sang happily to the rhythm of her small jumps, curls bouncing around her pretty face.

Smiling, YN let Stephen pull her into his side, arm around her shoulders and lips pressing on the top of her head. “We really have the most incredible children,” the father mumbled, still in awe of how his life had turned after the accident. And this strong, wonderful, and compassionate woman in his arm had gifted him the most precious gift life had to offer: undying love and the happiness of fatherhood.

“Don’t let Tony hear that,” she grinned softly, eyes still trained on her two sons and daughter. But then she looked up at her loving husband, who felt her gaze and looked down at her, one brow softly cocked. “Just in case you forgot about it, but they await us this weekend.” His eyes widened suddenly, and a groan left him, head falling back. “Why? Didn’t we agree on once a year in our prenup?” She hit his chest with a flat hand. “Really funny, especially because we both know very well that we never had one of these. Remember? You told me something about marrying out of pure love and utter devotion and that contracts belong to cooperations? That you weren’t another business deal I sign?” She grinned up to him, and Stephen groaned again. “I see now the advantages of said prenup. I could’ve put the once-a-year rule in it,” the sorcerer returned with a playful nudge to her chin with his finger. “That’s why we’re going. The kids could use some nature, and Lia misses Morgan. So…” Stephen cocked a brow. “Don’t you dare and say the thing you want to say right now.”

But YN said it anyway. “You’ll behave, even if my brother tries to get on your nerves,” the woman decided, but the Strange couldn’t keep it at that. “So, he can behave like a spoiled child, insult me countless times, and I have to sit it out?”

“Yes.”

“That’s unfair.”

“It’s called being an adult and how one shows that they’re upon such childish behavior.”

The verbal slugfest was quick, and the kids turned to their arguing parents. “What’s going on? Are Mommy and Daddy fighting?” Ophelia asked wide-eyed, but the boys only changed a look before Vince answered his sister. “Mom is the boss, Lia,” he grinned, and the youngest Strange giggled.

Stephen sighed again. “You win,” he gritted, but his wife only grinned wider. “What a surprise,” she teased him because, frankly, it wasn’t. She always won—Stephen would never admit it, but he couldn’t deny his wife a single request, even if it meant enduring his annoying brother-in-law for an entire weekend. He rolled his eyes lovingly before taking YN’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together, and turning to their children.

“Are we ready?”

All three of them nodded excitedly because they knew what their father would do in just a second. Shortly, the man let go of his wife to open a sparkling portal right into the foyer of the Sanctum Sanctorum, where Uncle Wong already stood, waiting. He crouched to hug the lot after the three kids had jumped over the golden threshold of the portal while Stephen held again onto his wife’s hand and led her into their shared home.

;

Hope y’all enjoyed this little piece, and thanks for reading! As usual: Comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated <3

Taglist: @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @seasonofthenerd @onecrazydirectioner @meeksmusic83 @harpywritesfic @strangeions @apple-and-berry @ben-er-ino @multifandomrandomgirl @lucimorningst4r @samisubi @hunterofshadows04 @y-napotat @lejuveinlegroove @ohchoices @jyessaminereads

[seasidesandstarscapes]

Right in the Numbers - Chapter 3

Prev - Next

Summary: Don's having a hell of a time but hey, at least Bobby's streams are a good distraction right?

Words: 2015

-

AO3

or

Don is trying his best, goddamnit.

Yes, he did go for a blind pass that led to interception and a goal for the Wild, but it’s just the second period. There’s time to catch up.

Speeding after the sliding puck, Don goes to block, get it over to Shorty but the opposing center slips around him, then Johnny before winding up for a shot in the wheelhouse that Don knows Bobby won’t be able to stop.

By some miracle, he does. Don’s heart leaps in his chest, almost ashamed that he ever doubted Bobby. He can’t help flashing a smile at him and that’s when the center from the Wild gives Bobby a snow shower.

Bobby’s the first to charge, but Chuck is right there too, ready to give the player a piece of his mind. The ref steps in as Bobby and the center yell at each other and Don makes a bit of a rash decision.

He takes hold of Bobby’s arm, tugs him to make their stares meet. The anger in Bobby’s eyes is terrifying but it calms the moment he sees Don. His shoulders drop and Don breathes a sigh of relief. There’s always a tinge of worry–that one day, Don won’t be able to stop Bobby’s rage. For now, though, their wordless exchanges are enough. Bobby mutters to himself as the potential fight comes to a close and Don skates close to the net before he’s supposed to join Shorty and Joe.

“Thanks,” Bobby sighs. “It’s not my fault he can’t score though.”

Don laughs a little at this and it’s good to see Bobby’s own smile grow on his face.

“Give ‘em hell, baby.”

Well, Don can’t disappoint Bobby now. When he’s with Joe and Shorty, they all nod, a spectacular play already forming in their minds. Joe gets a wrist shot just before the end of the second period and cheers hit Don’s ears. His confidence is over the moon now, he’s a charging bull the Wild can’t stop. They’ve got this game in the bag.

The boys eke out a win tonight and Don goes to Bobby first to celebrate. The bear hug is crushing as Bobby grins up at him, the rest of the arena fading away. If only he could tear off both their helmets and kiss Bobby right here, right now.

A cloud passes over Don, chastising him and his fantasies. He’s letting himself go too far. Something has to be done.

As reluctant as he is, Don turns down Bobby’s invite to get drinks that night. It’s just his imagination when Bobby frowns, when his eyes turn dull.

Instead, Don rounds up the three people he knows will set him straight. He drags them to his apartment, not explaining a thing until they’re all sat in his living room. He’s sure he’s rambling when he tells his story but he has to get it all out.

Joe, Chuck and Roger are silent as Don fidgets, taps a knuckle against his teeth.

“So you’re not dating?” Roger dares at last.

“Isn’t that clear?”

Don’s a bit frustrated. He’s just spilled his heart and soul out to his friends and all they’re giving him are blank stares. He just needs someone to tell him to get his head out of his ass.

“Okay,” Chuck shakes his head. “You’re friends with benefits but you’re feeling something more and the problem is….?”

About to explode, Don throws his hands up in frustration. “Obviously he doesn’t feel the same and I don’t want to fuck up a good friendship.”

“Have you even asked him if he likes you back?” Joe butts in.

“No,” Don admits and stares at his hands.

“Well, that’s step number one,” Chuck states.

Don sighs. It’s not that simple. Every time the thought of talking about this to Bobby enters his mind, his body freezes and his voice dries up.

He’s tried once and decided that was enough.

“Write him a letter,” Roger senses Don’s apprehension.

That’s an idea and Don mulls it over. His friends watch him expectantly, leaving Don in a state of doubt.

“What?” His eyebrows knit together.

“Have you done it in the showers while we’ve been changing?” Roger asks.

Don throws a pillow at him.

~

Writing a letter doesn’t work.

Don has balls of crumpled paper surrounding him and he holds a hand to his forehead.

Every word he writes is garbage. Nothing sounds right and he gives up, tossing his pen across the room. He’s tempted to forget about it, to just continue with Bobby like he always has.

It’s easier that way. Sure he has feelings, but if Bobby doesn’t reciprocate, he can move on. They can just be friends.

Don’s phone pings and he chuckles at the notification from Bobby’s channel.

Coming? A text comes in a second after.

If you can make me.

Bobby sends back a middle finger and Don grabs his laptop. He just needs to enjoy himself for now. Maybe he’ll have some clarity afterwards.

The chat is already speeding by, Bobby answering a few questions while he gets his setup going. Don’s not sure what Bobby has planned tonight. He’s been a bit elusive, teasing Don when he can during practice.

“Oops, almost lost track of the time. Gotta change,” Bobby winks at the camera.

The sleeve of Don’s shirt covers his hand and he chews on the hem as he waits for Bobby to come back. When Bobby does, kneeling on his bed, his “outfit” is nothing more than panties.

That is, pink lace panties that leave little to the imagination.

Bobby’s not small, Don can attest to that, and he thinks to grab the dildo Bobby gave him as a gag gift.

“DH22, go grab it.” Bobby somehow reads Don’s mind through the screen.

Unable to fight against Bobby’s whims, Don scrambles to dig it out of his closet and throws it onto the bed. He grabs his bottle of lube, takes off his clothes before settling back on the sheets, shoving another pillow behind him.

The chat is a little confused about Bobby’s casual manner towards Don’s username but it’s forgotten when Bobby snaps the waistband of the panties against his skin.

He rubs the flat of his palm against his strained cock, bites back a moan. “Gonna use the clear flesh light tonight,” he shows the camera.

Don pours too much lube over his fingers but he doesn’t care as he spreads his legs. His hole is tight and his impatience causes him to tighten up.

“Mm, relax for me, baby,” Bobby coos.

There must be a camera on Don too. Taking a deep breath, he sinks into his mattress, just prods and swirls at his own hole.

“Can’t wait to get inside you,” Bobby is already breathless, one hand braced behind him as he keeps stroking his cock through the lace fabric.

Don whimpers as his finger finally slips in. After today’s stress this is just what he needs. Bobby keeps flirting through the camera and Don finally gets his hole stretched. He brushes against his prostate, a low moan leaving him. If Bobby were here now, he’d keep testing the spot, make Don beg. And for Bobby, Don would be a dog if he asked.

Bobby pulls the panties down, tucks the fabric behind his balls before he grabs the flesh light. He winks at the camera and heat rushes to Don’s face. He tries to remind himself it’s just for show, there’s nothing behind it.

Reaching blindly for the dildo, Don reluctantly pulls out his fingers to lube up the toy. He still can’t believe Bobby made a dildo that matches his own dick. That birthday was one for the books.

As Bobby thrust into the flesh light, Don shoves the dildo inside himself, knowing just how Bobby would be fucking him. It’d be harsh, yet tender, marking Don, reminding him who he belongs to. Don’s hole stretches even more as he pushes the dildo all the way in and he gasps as it rubs against his prostate.

“Bobby,” Don moans into the empty space of his room.

“So tight, so perfect,” Bobby pants. “All mine.”

Don pushes, pulls the dildo in time with Bobby’s movements, his orgasm impending as he uses his other hand to fist his cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” Bobby tells the camera.

That’s all it takes for Don to be overwhelmed and he shouts as his orgasm wracks through him. Don’s vision goes white, his body falling limpless against the bed as he catches his breath. He barely manages to catch Bobby pulling off the flesh light and pumping his cock amongst whimpers, breathless swearing. Cum spills over Bobby’s sheets and his torso, his moan loud and dramatic.

Bobby shakes his hair out of his face while his chest heaves and Don wants to lick him clean. Instead, Bobby runs a finger through the cum, sucks it off while batting his lashes at the camera. Don’s cock twitches with interest, but he’s much too tired to go again so soon.

“See you next time,” Bobby grins. “I had fun.”

The stream is quick to go dark after that and Don starts to drift as he eases the dildo out of himself. He sighs but it’s not out of contentment. The cold wash of the situation slips into his mind just to torment him some more. To remind him that this doesn’t solve a damn thing.

His phone vibrates and without opening his eyes, Don manages to slide his thumb across the screen.

“Hey.”

“What did you think?” Bobby sounds tired, but eager.

“That was good,” Don winces at his attempt at a compliment. “You gonna wear those to practice?”

Bobby laughs. “Not this pair. They’re no good now, but maybe I’ll dig out the white ones.”

Don can only imagine the chaos of the locker room if the guys caught wind of Bobby wearing panties under his gear. He wants it so bad.

“So,” Bobby’s smile is clear through the phone. “You really liked it, huh?”

“I like everything you do.”

“Famous last words.”

Don is brought back to reality for a moment. He means what he says. Bobby is wonderful in so many ways and Don just wishes he had the bravery to say so.

“Hey, lover boy, you still there?”

“Yeah…yeah,” Don shakes away the chaotic thoughts. “We still on for Friday?”

“Don, we’ve been doing this for months now. I’ll never miss a dinner with you. You know that.”

Don’s heart leaps in his chest. Bobby has a way of making him feel special, that he doesn’t give this attention to anyone else. And maybe it’s true. Don’s social media is filled with pictures of him and Bobby, it’s no wonder the hockey fans have speculated.

But, it’s not who they are. Not what they’re supposed to be.

“Just making sure,” Don says. “You might have a hot date or something.”

Bobby’s laugh is cynical and Don can feel the pillow smacking his head.

“Yeah, I do. It’s Don Hume, one of the top centers in the nation.”

This is all just joking around. Poking fun. Don tries to convince himself of this.

“You flatter me,” Don bites his tongue.

“And have sex with you too.”

Now this makes Don laugh. “Alright get to bed. Coach won’t be happy if we’re both dead tired.”

“Ugh, don’t make me think of him after jerking off.”

“Would you rather have Ulbrickson or Bolles find your channel?” Don can’t help poke.

“Good night, Donald.”

Bobby hangs up after that and Don laughs to himself. A frown morphs on his face then, his mood dipping. This feels so good, so right.

Why can’t he just be honest? If Bobby is truly his friend, it won’t ruin a thing. Fear has settled deep in Don’s soul and he is losing the fight.

He hurts. His head is a fractured mess. All Don wants is…

What he wants is an impossible dream. It’s better to keep it secret.

It has to be.

[criminalmindzjunkie]

Love Sick

Masterlist

Summary: A story about how Spencer’s worst decision ever somehow ends up being his best.

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day, my loves! This fic is loosely based on a request I got about Spencer faking an illness to keep the reader from going on a date.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: swearing

Word Count: 4k

Spencer has done a terrible, awful thing.

He wants to argue that he doesn’t know what came over him, but that would be untrue and he’s already met today’s quota on little white lies. Spencer knows exactly what possessed him to call you up at seven thirty on a Saturday night, and it wasn’t so that the two of you could discuss the weather or the recent upward trend in the stock market. Spencer’s spontaneous (panicked) phone call to you was a brazen attempt to abate the green-eyed monster that had been whispering dreadful things in his ear for the better part of a week.

To put it simply; Spencer is jealous, and he’s dealing with it rather poorly.

So poorly that he’s resorted to sabotage.

As he sits on his couch and worries at a hole in the bottom of his designated lounging sweatshirt, Spencer attempts to justify his actions. His tiny fib won’t hurt anyone . . . except, perhaps, one annoyingly perfect and stupidly handsome veterinarian. But Spencer can live with that. Potentially scorning an animal care specialist isn’t the thing that has his stomach in knots. That, he can live with. Spencer doesn’t even have pets, so there’s no longterm consequences as far as the vet is concerned. The notion of lying to you, on the other hand? 

Spencer is positively sick with nerves.

He’s not sure why. Spencer’s gotten rather good at lying to you. Several months of pining for you from across the hallway of your shared apartment complex has turned him into quite the master of deceit, after all. He was a sucker from the moment he opened his door and lay his eyes on you, arms outstretched and wielding a plate of homemade sweets. The cookies were lovely, but the breathtaking smile on your face is what really did him in.

Since that first day, Spencer’s gone out of his way to ensure that he’s on the receiving end of that smile as often as possible. His efforts are never in vain; for reasons unbeknownst to him, you seem to enjoy spending time with him just as much as he did you. This mutual fondness results in most of Spencer’s off days being spent in your company. Spencer was certain that, with time, he would work up the nerve to ask you out on a date. He’s halfway to convincing himself that you might even say yes when your cat makes the unfortunate decision to steal a brownie from your plate and gulp the whole thing down.

Enter, aforementioned veterinarian.

The sound of your door opening from across the hall has Spencer breaking out into a cold sweat. His hand is halfway to his forehead, ready to wipe away the perspiration when he pauses. His body’s anxious reaction might just help him sell his story. Yes, Spencer thinks, this is a good thing. Authenticity, and all that.

Several soft footsteps are muffled by the door that separates him from you, and then his doorknob jiggles as you struggle to fit your key into the lock. A jolt of adrenaline surges through Spencer and in the blink of an eye he’s on his feet and sprinting to his bathroom in the name of authenticity. If he wants to keep up this ridiculous façade, and he really, really does, Spencer is prepared to fake it until he makes it. The alternative is far too mortifying. Failure is not an option.

Spencer cringes when he lifts his eyes to meet his reflection. He’s been told more than once that he’s an absolutely terrible liar, and the wide, guilty eyes that stare back at him confirm this. All it will take is one look at him and you’ll know something’s amiss. Perhaps it isn’t too late for Spencer to come clean. It would be embarrassing, yeah, but no less embarrassing than it would be an hour from now when you call him on his shit. But then again, there is always the possibility that you will get angry with him and leave, and Spencer isn’t willing to risk you walking away from him. Not tonight.

Spencer barely has the time to splash some cold water on his face and dive to the bathroom floor before you’re pushing open the door to his apartment and calling out his name. His brain, the part that isn’t rendered useless in his panicked state, reminds him of just how many germs can be found on the average bathroom floor. It’s enough to make him pause, but only for a moment. He takes a deep breath before slumping over against the toilet.

Showtime.

“M’ in here,” Spencer calls out in his croakiest voice. It comes out exactly as he intended, all rough and pitiful. Maybe he can pull this off, after all.

The soft pitter patter of your bare feet makes his heart rate increase exponentially. Spencer steels himself, recites a reassuring mantra in his head. I can do this; I can do this.

Spencer’s poor, overworked heart gets a much-needed rest when you step into the doorway. In fact, he’s almost certain it stops completely at the sight of you in a tiny red dress. A tiny red dress that leaves very little to the imagination. Spencer can’t even see past his mounting panic to enjoy the way you look. That damn red dress serves as a brutal reminder of why he’s sitting in his bathroom floor, clutching his toilet bowl and damn near drowning in a nervous sweat.

The thing is, Spencer hadn’t intended on sabotaging your date with the vet. He had every intention of staying in, wallowing in his sorrows and waiting up for you. Spencer even said this to Derek, who was kind enough to call him and remind him of how big of a jackass he was. Spencer didn’t need the reminder. He was well aware.

But then Derek said something that made Spencer’s blood run cold.

“And what exactly do you plan to do if she doesn’t come home?”

So, really, it’s Derek’s fault that Spencer promptly ended the call and dialed your number. It’s also Derek’s fault that Spencer is about to give the most convincing performance of his entire fucking life.

“I’m sorry I called you, but I didn’t know what else to do. I just feel so awful.” And he does feel awful, just not in the way you think.

You’re quick to close the distance between the two of you, dropping to your knees and brushing stray pieces of hair away from Spencer’s clammy forehead. His skin sings where your hand grazes it. If he didn’t have a fever before, he will if you don’t stop touching him.

“Don’t ever apologize, Spence. I wish you’d have called me sooner,” you murmur. Warm, concerned eyes drag across Spencer’s bedraggled appearance. “How long have you been feeling sick?”

Spencer gulps. “A few hours, I guess. I ate my leftovers from last night for lunch. Maybe that’s what’s wrong.”Lies, lies, lies!

Your brow furrows. “That’s strange. I ate mine, too, and I feel fine.”

Spencer doesn’t really have an argument for that, so he fakes a pained groan and rests his head against his arm. He closes his eyes and prays the intro to theater class he took in high school will pay off.

You must deem his act convincing enough because you press a soft kiss to the top of his hair and stand. Spencer hears the sound of a cabinet opening, followed by the sound of running water.

The tender touch of your hand on his shoulder has him raising his head and looking up at you, inquisitive. You place a cold washrag to his forehead, and Spencer melts into the touch. It feels heavenly against his hot skin.

“Do you think you could manage to take a shower?” you prompt, earning a feeble nod from Spencer. He doesn’t even have to fake the way he trembles as you run the damp cloth down his neck. “I think I have some broccoli and cheddar soup at my apartment. I’ll go change and grab it while you shower.”

Elation spreads through Spencer, pouring from his heart until it reaches the very tips of his extremities. He can’t believe his scheme hasn’t blown up in his face already.

With the help of your outstretched hand, Spencer rises to his feet and braces himself against the shower door. You make no move to remove your hand from his, and that gives him the courage to ask his next question.

“What about your date?”

You shrug and an easy smile spreads across your face. Spencer feels faint. He blames it on his imaginary illness.  

“Don’t worry about that. The only thing I’m concerned with right now is taking care of you.”

Spencer bites down hard on the flesh of his cheek to keep a smug grin at bay. This is a victory he’ll have to celebrate at a later date.

--

Spencer enters his living room, freshly showered and donned in clean pajamas, to the sound of your voice speaking quietly into your cellphone. He halts just before he enters his kitchen, straining to catch a snippet of your conversation. As he leans closer to the sound of your voice, Spencer halfheartedly chastises himself. First, he deceives you, now he’s resorting to eavesdropping. Rock, meet bottom.

He’s just about to wrench himself away and retreat to the couch, when:

“I really am sorry about cancelling, especially on such short notice.” A short stretch of silence follows. “Next Saturday? Oh. Um, yeah, I’ll let you know, okay?”

Spencer is very much like a popped balloon; the earlier feelings of elation leave him in a harsh gust. Next Saturday? He barely managed to derail this Saturday’s date! No way he could get away with it a second time.

In the midst of his inner turmoil, Spencer misses you exchanging goodbyes with the vet before collecting Spencer’s bowl of soup. He’s still standing there, absolutely crestfallen, when you round the corner. You nearly collide with his chest, narrowly avoiding it by skidding to a halt in front of him. Your eyes run up his frame, assessing him, until they rest on his face.

“You scared me, Spence,” you chuckle. You cock your head to the side. Spencer imagines his expression is none dissimilar to that of a disgruntled frog. “You feeling okay? You’re not going to puke again, are you?”

Honestly, he might. The idea of you rescheduling your date with the vet is about as vomit inducing as it gets.

“I’m fine,” Spencer says on an exhale. Funnily, it’s probably the biggest lie he’s told all day. “The shower helped.”

His delivery is flat, but you don’t seem to mind. You smile up at him, relieved, and Spencer’s chest aches.

“I was thinking you and I could watch a movie?” you offer, and Spencer nods his assent. He can’t fathom turning you down. Not when you’re wearing an old sweatshirt you stole from his closet and a pair of fuzzy socks with little hearts on them. The ache intensifies.

“What are we watching?”

You plop down on the couch and look at him expectantly. He follows in suit, settling in beside you.

“I was thinking that you could choose,” you murmur as you place the bowl in his hands. Spencer shoots a teasing smile your way as he raises the spoon to his mouth.

“You mean, you’re actually going to let me pick the movie? I should get sick more often.”

His cheek earns him an exaggerated roll of your eyes.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter. “You always pick the movie.” 

He can count on one hand the amount of times he’s gotten to pick the movie.

Spencer is about to launch into an impassioned rebuttal when the feeling of your fingers scratching against his scalp renders him speechless. His eyes dart to your face as you concentrate on scrolling through the TV guide, seemingly unaware of the effect the simple act has on him. Meanwhile, Spencer’s brain is short-circuiting.

You begin to read off a list of potential movies to him, but Spencer barely hears you. He’s practically purring as you twirl his curls around lithe fingers, his eyes threatening to flutter closed as an intense feeling of euphoria washes over him. Maybe it’s because he’s touch starved, or maybe it’s because it’s been so long since someone just looked after him. Whatever it is, Spencer embraces it wholeheartedly.

“-heard it’s pretty good. So, what do you say, Spence?”

Spencer pulls himself back to the present, blinking lazily at you. You’re looking at him, expectant, and Spencer’s eyes flit to the TV. His eyes skim its contents, reading briefly about a movie in which some family moves into a haunted house.

His face breaks out into a grin and he nods, because Spencer’s known you long enough to recognize that watching a horror movie usually results in you pressed tightly to his side and clinging to his hand. He also knows that nine times out of ten, you choose to watch a horror movie over anything else. No wonder he always lets you choose.

And sure enough, not even ten minutes in, Spencer is ditching his bowl of soup and pulling you into his arms. Once you’ve draped a blanket around the two of you settled in, you glance up at him.

“How are you feeling, Spence?”

Spencer responds by saying that he’s suddenly feeling much better. 

Spencer Reid - 1, Veterinarian – 0

--

Spencer’s not sure at which point he fell asleep. All he knows is that he certainly does not remember sprawling out across your body, nor does he remember tucking his head into the crook of your neck. But this is how he finds himself when the sun begins to pour in through his windows the next morning, and Spencer can’t bring himself to care about how he came to be there.

Spencer guesstimates that it’s no later than seven in the morning. You’re still fast asleep underneath him, your chest rising and falling rhythmically with every breath. It’s early, and it’s Sunday, and Spencer can’t think of a single reason to wake you. Instead, he snuggles in closer, because he’d be a fool not to enjoy this while it lasts.

Unfortunately, the shrill sound of Spencer’s ringing phone shatters the serenity. He prays that it won’t disturb you, that you’ll remain oblivious and continue to sleep, but that hope is shattered when you begin to shift underneath him. Spencer makes quick work of peeling himself off of you before dashing to his kitchen and snatching his phone off the table.

He’s prepared to verbally assault whoever has the audacity to defile the sanctity of lazy Sunday mornings when a quick peek into the living room finds you still fast asleep on his sofa. He smiles, soft and fond, before pressing the accept button and bringing the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“I was beginning to wonder if you were still alive.” Spencer’s smile transforms into a grimace. Apparently, Derek Morgan doesn’t believe in lie-ins. “I was preparing myself for a rescue mission.”

“It’s seven in the morning. I was asleep.”

Derek lets out a low whistle. “Who pissed in your Cheerios, Pretty Boy?”

“You, when you decided that it was acceptable to ring me before eight,” Spencer whisper shouts. He knows that he’s being touchy, to say the least, but who can blame him? Five minutes ago, he was cuddling with the most beautiful girl he’s ever had the privilege to lay eyes on. Now, he’s shooting the breeze with a colleague. Obviously, Spencer would prefer the former to the latter.

“Jesus, kid. I’m going to take a wild guess and say that girl of yours didn’t make it home, after all. You okay?”

The guilty feeling returns and Spencer cringes. “Uh, define ‘okay.’”

Derek curses on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry, kid. Try not to beat yourself up about it, okay? There’s plenty of fish in the sea, you’ve just gotta put yourself out there. How’s this; you and me will go out next weekend and bar hop. I’ll teach you some Derek Morgan tricks of the trade. Soon enough, you’ll have forgotten all about her.”

“I don’t know, that might be hard.” Spencer scratches the back of his neck. “She’s asleep on my couch right now.”

A long stretch of silence comes from the other end of the line, and Spencer thinks for a moment that the call dropped. Unfortunately, he isn’t that lucky. A booming laugh erupts from the speaker and makes him jump out of his skin.

“My man!” Derek laughs, incredulous. “I didn’t think you had it in you, I’ll be honest.”

“It’s not what you think-”

“How did you manage that? Did the Good Doctor make a grand romantic gesture? Damn, I really hate that I missed that.”

“No, there were no gestures. And it’s not-”

Derek cuts him off. Again. “How’d she take the news? I’m assuming she took it well, if she stayed the night.”

“I didn’t tell her anything!” Spencer spits out, frustrated. “I… I told her I was sick. She came over to take care of me, and we fell asleep on the couch.”

Spencer’s proclamation is met with another long silence.

“So, you sabotaged the date?”

Spencer winces. “I did not sabotage it. I just… manipulated the situation a little.”

“Oh, you certainly did,” Derek chuckles. “How did you pull that off? I’ve seen you try to lie. That shit is laughable.”

Spencer opens his mouth to defend himself, but the pitter patter of socked feet approaching him from behind has his mouth running dry.

“Yeah, Spencer. How did you pull that off?”

Spencer had been correct in his earlier assumptions. The inevitable moment in which you called him out on his shit has arrived, and it’s every bit as mortifying as he expected. So mortifying that he can practically feel the blood drain from his face. And the thing is that he knows he deserves whatever you’re about to throw his way… it’s just that the thought of you being angry with him kind of makes him want to cry. And that would only add to the mortification.

He turns around slowly, his body rigid, until he’s met with the adorably rumpled vision of you with your arms crossed and your hair sticking up in all directions.

Spencer’s never seen anything quite so mesmerizing, and it hurts because he knows he’s ruined everything. He’ll never get to watch another scary movie with you tucked neatly against his side, or wake up in your arms again. He’ll never get to kiss you.

And the worst of all; Spencer will never get to tell you how he really feels. It’s a crying shame, because he thinks he could have been really good at loving you.

“Hey, Derek, I gotta go.”

Spencer presses the end call button and immerses himself in what has to be the most awkward stand-off of all time. You stand there, arms crossed, head cocked to the side with one hip jutted out. Spencer isn’t sure how you manage to look intimidating and endearing at the same time. He supposes the fuzzy socks are to blame.

Minutes pass, but they feel like hours. Spencer is approximately three seconds away from dropping to his knees and groveling when you finally speak.

“You sabotaged my date.”

Spencer lets out a strangled laugh. Perhaps humor is the way to go? It couldn’t hurt to try. In his opinion, the situation couldn’t possibly get any worse. “I think sabotage is a strong word. I prefer the term obstruct.”

You let loose a laugh of your own, but this one holds no humor. “And I prefer keeping the company of people who don’t lie to me.” Okay, maybe it can get worse.

Spencer visibly deflates. It was a stupid idea. He’s never been a funny guy.

“I am so, so, so incredibly sorry.” Sorry for lying to you, that is. Spencer isn’t in the least bit apologetic for ruining your date. Given the chance, he’d do it again - in a more tactful way, of course. Preferably, in such a way that didn’t involve him laying in his bathroom floor. 

Spencer attempts to take a step forward, only to be rooted to the spot when you fix him with a look. He’s not funny but he is smart – smart enough to know better than to push it. 

“Why did you do it?”

Spencer was really hoping you wouldn’t ask that.

“I-I…”

Apparently, an eidetic memory doesn’t stand a chance when it comes to confrontations involving pretty girls. One quirk of an immaculately plucked eyebrow and Spencer loses the ability to recall a single word of the English language. It’s tragic, really.

“Spit it out, Spencer.”

“I didn’t want you to go on the date.” It’s like ripping off a band aid, the way the words tumble from his lips. It’s painless at first, but then the sting sets in when he realizes what he’s done. 

Your lack of reaction doesn’t help. Your face remains passive, as if he didn’t just offer himself to you on a silver platter. Spencer squirms uncomfortably.

“Why didn’t you want me to go on the date?”

God, this is excruciating. You’re clearly out for blood, and the twinkle in your eye shows just how much you’re enjoying this. Spencer would have never taken you for a sadist.

“Because…” Spencer trails off and allows his eyes to drift closed. If he’s going to do this, he’s going to do it his way. With his eyes closed, because he can’t bear the thought of looking you in the eye when you reject him. “B-Because I like you. A lot.”

Spencer hasn’t had a lot of practice at being wrong. In fact, he’s spent the majority of his life being right. It seems the universe is making up for that now, because he can’t seem to get a single goddamn thing right today.

You laugh at him. You actually laugh in his face. Mortified doesn’t even begin to cover it. 

“You like me.” It isn’t a question.

Spencer keeps his eyes shut tight.

“Y-Yeah.”

You know how they say if you take away one of a person’s senses, all of the others are heightened? Spencer couldn’t disagree more. In the midst of his despair, he’s completely unaware that you’ve crossed the room and are now standing directly in front of him until you speak again.

“Well, that’s rather unfortunate,” you sigh. Spencer inhales a sharp breath when he realizes you’re close enough to touch. Still, he keeps his eyes closed.

“Uh, why is that?”

Spencer nearly jumps out of his skin when your hand reaches up and caresses the side of his jaw.

“Because, Spencer,” you murmur, silky and sweet. “I was hoping you just might love me.”

Spencer’s eyes fly open and he’s greeted by a lazy, contented smile. It’s similar to the one that greeted him when he opened his front door on that very first day, but it’s better somehow. Later reflection will determine that it’s better because it’s the kind of smile reserved just for him. And that’s all he’s ever wanted, really.

“W-What?”

“You heard me.” You tilt your head up and rest your palm on Spencer’s chest. His heartbeat is erratic, thundering hard against his ribcage. He’d surely be embarrassed if he wasn’t about to faint from shock. “Do you love me, Spencer Reid?”

Spencer doesn’t even have to think twice.

“More than anything.”

“Good.” Your thumb brushes across the apple of his cheek, eliciting a full body shudder. “I was beginning to think you would never catch up.”

Spencer must be hallucinating. That, or this is all a dream and any second now his alarm is going to go off. He subtly pinches himself on the thigh to test the theory. You can imagine his surprise when nothing changes. He doesn’t wake up in a pile of his own drool, and now the skin on his thigh stings.

“You . . . You like me, too?”

You shake your head. “No, Spencer. I love you, too. Why do you think I bake you cookies and spend all of my free time in your apartment?”

“Because my couch is better than yours?” Spencer deadpans.

“I mean, that certainly doesn’t hurt. But it’s not the only reason.”

“What about the vet?” It must be his guilty conscious talking, because Spencer cannot conjure up any other reason he has for asking such a moronic question. He, personally, could not care less about the vet. Full offense intended.

“Cameron is a nice guy, sure,” you trail off. Spencer doesn’t miss the way your eyes drift down to his lips before returning to his eyes. “But he’s not really my type.”

“And what is your type, exactly?” A giddy grin finds its way to Spencer’s face. He’s notorious for being chronically clueless, but even the master of imperception himself can see where this is going. 

You snort, and it’s adorable. “Liars, apparently.”

It’s impossible to determine who moves first, but that doesn’t really matter. What does matter is the end result of Spencer’s lips colliding with yours. It’s earth-shatteringly lovely; slow and sweet and tentative. There’s no rushing, no frantic fumbling of hands. Just the reverent drag of your lips against his, warm and intoxicating. 

Spencer eventually regains the use of his limbs and when he does, he’s snaking one arm around your waist as the other entangles itself in your wonderfully unruly hair. 

You sigh a happy sigh against his lips and Spencer’s heart soars. In a completely unforeseen turn of events, the possibility of more lazy Sunday mornings is now back on the table. Thank God he’s better at lying than he gave himself credit for. 

God, and Derek Morgan’s meddling ass. 

-

-

-

[btssaysstudy]

Salvage - 1 || jjk/kth.

Summary: After your confession, it's safe to say that there was nothing left to salvage between you and Jungkook. However, things start to change when a new hurdler joins the team. Genre: college!au, track!jungkook, track!taehyung, track!reader, angst & fluff Pairing: jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader Warning(s) : unrequited love, alcohol (drinking) mentioned, swearing Chapter Word Count: 3.7k a/n: My first mini series! Let me know what you guys think and the ending depends on your feedback :) taglist: do let me know if you want to be added to the series taglist

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“Wake me up when you’re done.”

“Alright, alright. I’m done.” Your body got up from your seat, but your gaze still glued on your laptop screen and hands on your keyboard. Your roommate groaned, marching her way to pull your hands away from the laptop.

“Yn, it’s a Friday night. Let’s go! Namjoon’s waiting for us downstairs.”

“Yea but,” You sighed, your eyes on your work, “I still have quite a lot of things to do. Maybe I’ll skip this party—“

“Like how you missed Hoseok’s birthday party? I’m sure he’s going to hunt you down later. You still have the weekends to complete your work and you’re already dressed up.”

You knew your roommate was right. You had agreed to go for this party since it was one of Namjoon’s close friends’ birthday. Though you weren’t close to the birthday boy, you were close to Namjoon and his girlfriend, who also happened to be your roommate - Miya.

“Okay, okay.” You quickly saved your work and turned your laptop off. “Let’s go.”

Miya squealed in excitement, linking her arm around yours as she pulled you towards the door. The two of you went down to meet Namjoon who had been patiently waiting for you to get down.

“Sorry for wait.” You gave an apologetic smile. “No worries! We’re still early. Good to miss the first few awkward minutes of the party.” He chuckled as he opened the car door to let you both in.

Miya truly hit jackpot with Namjoon. He was the whole package - athletic, smart and a gentleman. Miya was a great catch herself and you were thankful that she was your roommate.

Miya had been your roommate since freshmen year and ever since, you both always wanted to dorm together. Miya was very caring and gentle yet blunt at the same time. You both were awkward beings when you first met, and you were worried how dorm life would be with a stranger.

Thankfully, Miya, being the straightforward person, immediately went out with setting the ground rules together and suggested for a roommate date to get to know each other.

The rest was practically history.

Miya had been there for many of your significant memories in college - the good and the bad.

She was also there when you met Jungkook.

“Do you have any clubs in mind?”

“Actually, I do. I’m planning to sign up for track.”

Miya gasped and giggled in excitement, “No way, I want to join track too!”

“That’s cool! Shall we head over then?”

The two of you made your way to the track and field booth, sharing about what events you partake in. Miya was a hurdler while you weren’t. Nonetheless, it was pretty amazing to you two that you were both signing up for the track team.

“Hey freshies! Here to sign up?”

The two of you converse with the seniors to learn more about the try-outs and practice sessions.

“Psst,” Miya nudged you as you filled up the sign-up form, “On your left. Isn’t he cute?”

Your gaze turned to see a tall, buff boy, who seemed to be signing up for track as well. “He’s pretty cute.”

“I’m going to say hi. Wait for me.” Miya winked at you before approaching the boy - little did she know at that time that he was going to be her boyfriend.

“See you try-outs!” You smiled at the senior as you handed the form.

Your eyes wandered around the nearby booths as you waited for Miya to come back.

“I’ll just look around.” You mouthed at her when she turned to make eye contact with you.

“Hey! Interested to join Photography club?”

“Freshies! Come join the Badminton club!”

The atmosphere was completely chaotic with seniors shouting at the top of their lungs to promote their club. Slightly disoriented from the ruckus, you had bumped into a stranger.

“I’m so sorry—“

“So sorry about that—“

The two of you took a step back to meet each other’s eyes. “Sorry about that.” The black-haired boy gave a sheepish grin as he rubbed the nape of his neck. “I was kinda too excited to sign up for a club.”

“No worries, it’s my fault as well. I wasn’t looking.”

“All’s good. B-But… Any chance that you happen to know where the track and field club booth is at?”

Your eyes widened slightly in amusement, “Yea I do. I was just about to head back to meet my friend.”

“Oh! Could I follow you there?”

“Sure.”

Your eyes took a quick once-over, it wasn’t hard to notice that his built was athletic, donned in sweats and an oversize black shirt, this guy looked like the poster boy of college dudes.

“My name’s Jungkook. What’s yours?”

“Yn. Did you run track before college?”

“Yep, I do 4x100s.”

“Oh, same here!” You flashed a smile. “Wow, what a coincidence that I’d bump into you huh.” Jungkook chuckled and you did the same. “Must be a sign that we’ll both be teammates.”

“Not a bad sign at all.”

“Yn!” Miya waved her hand wildly amidst the crowd. “I was about to leave the booth to go find you! What booths did you— Oh hi, I’m Miya, you are?”

“Jungkook. Nice to meet you. You must be the friend yn was going back for.”

Miya gave you a subtle look which you chose to ignore that day.

“Jungkook,” Miya grinned, “It’s nice to meet you too!”

“Speaking of the party, yn, you know Jungkook will be there as well, right?”

“Yes, this is the tenth time you’ve told me that.”

“Sorry, just another reminder before we pull up to the party.”

Besides having a ton of workload to do, you also had another reason for having second thoughts.

That reason was Jungkook.

“Thanks for your concern. But it’s been a year, I’m long over it.”

“That’s great to hear, I’m proud of you yn.” Namjoon piped in as he parked the car. “And we,” He placed his hand on Miya’s, “Should trust our friend’s word.”

Miya glanced at you before sighing, “Alright. I do. Now, let’s go greet the birthday boy.”

The three of you left the car and made your way to the party venue. The birthday boy was clearly loaded as the venue was huge. You jaw dropped in awe, “Why is this party so extravagant?”

“Good thing our birthday gifts are more drinks.” Miya nudged you and you laughed, nodding your head.

You were all greeted with blaring music from the stereo and neon lights to add into the ambience. People had already begun drinking and some were busy eating dinner.

“Yn!! I missed you!” A very familiar voice erupted as you spotted a figure rushing towards you.

“Hoseok!” You grinned, extending your arms out for a hug.

“You didn’t come to my party!” He pouted as he pulled away. “But I visited the next day as a surprise!” You defended yourself.

“That’s true… Still feels like forever since I saw you.” Hoseok pulled you back in for a hug.

The four of you made your way to one of open rooms which had been turned into a buffet area. You had helped yourself to the wide array of food and found a table to eat with your friends.

“We have a new hurdler joining us. He’s our batch but he only joined the club this try-out round.” Namjoon filled you in since you were the only non-hurdler in your group.

“Oh, who is it?”

“Kim Taehyung.”

“Wait, Kim Taehyung? Isn’t he from table tennis?”

Namjoon shrugged his shoulders, “Guess he wanted to try something new. I was there during try-outs and he’s a really fast runner.”

—

Since it was a huge party and you weren’t close to the birthday boy, you didn’t need to spend the night entertaining the main character of the night.

To make full use of the amenities at the booked venue, the four of you started playing different rounds of games.

You were paired with Hoseok against Miya and Namjoon. The first round was charades and you lost to them. Hoseok found the game Just Dance and proposed it as the next round.

Jungkook had not been on your mind the entire night as you busied yourself playing games with your friends.

“What else can you do?!” Miya exclaimed, stepping in front to take over Hoseok’s spot.

“More like what else can you not do?! That was amazing!” You pulled Hoseok in for hug, “We’re gonna win this. Get ready to treat us for a meal!”

Namjoon chuckled, “We have to do another game after this. Hoseok basically created the game Just Dance. He followed the moves to easily.”

“Don’t whine, just dance!” Hoseok teased, pulling you back on the couch as you both watched Miya and Namjoon do their round.

“Didn’t want to ruin the mood but… He’s watching.” Hoseok leaned in to whisper in your ear. Your eyes slowly wandered around the venue to spot a familiar figure hanging around a crowd of people.

You both made eye contact and you decided to cast a smile at his direction. In return, you received a quick and small smile before he looked away, completely avoiding your direction.

“That went well.”

“Give him time.”

“Hobi,” you deadpanned, “I’m pretty sure one year is a lot of time.”

Hoseok just shrugged, “I know but… Okay, I have nothing to say to defend him.”

You chuckled, turning your attention back to Miya and Namjoon, “You don’t have to defend him.”

“He’s my close friend too.”

“I know, and I feel bad that you have to split yourself in half every time—“

“No, no,” Hoseok nudged you to get that thought off your mind, “I don’t feel that way. Besides, I met the two of you on separate occasions as well. Please don’t feel guilty about anything.”

You gave him a thankful smile, “Thanks Hobi.”

The Just Dance bet ended with your landslide victory thanks to Hoseok’s hidden dance skills.

Namjoon insisted for another game to even the playing field and Hoseok went out to the backyard to set up the beer pong table. Miya and Namjoon had gone to the kitchen to grab the cups and drinks and you had volunteered to grab more titbits to snack on.

Thanks to your luck, Jungkook had busied himself with filling his plate with snacks as well.

“Hey.”

Jungkook jumped upon heading your voice, quickly steadying the plate on his hand. “H-Hey.”

“How’s the party going?”

You attempted to start a conversation with him as you grabbed a plate yourself. Jungkook awkwardly cleared his throat, “It’s a huge party… H-How about— Are you enjoying it?”

“Yea, there’s tons of things to do. How about you?”

“Yea.” Jungkook fiddled with one of the serving scoops. You pressed your lips in a tight smile, recognising the awkward atmosphere engulfing the both of you.

It hurt you to know Jungkook was still feeling awkward around you. It always reminded you that you had made the wrong choice. That you had ruined everything between the two of you.

“Right, I guess I’ll head off first. See you at practice?”

“Yea… See you around.” Jungkook nodded his head, his gaze locked on the table filled with snacks as you left the area, feeling dejected from your encounter.

“What’s with the long face?” Hoseok asked as you approached your group. You looked up to meet his eyes and he immediately knew, sighing as he pulled you into a comforting hug.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Still feels like it is.”

-

“Is it just me or am I still hungover from the party?”

You laughed, “You had a whole Sunday to rest.”

Miya sighed as she started doing hip circles. “I know, I must be getting old.”

“You probably are. Anyway, where is Namjoon?”

Just as you had asked, you heard his voice calling you and Miya. The both of you turned to see Namjoon heading over your direction with someone unfamiliar next to him. Namjoon was goofily waving his hands to grab your attention while pointing to the male next to him.

As they got closer, you managed to recognise the person next him. It was Kim Taehyung. He was popular in college because he was very talented at table tennis. It shocked you when Namjoon said he had joined the track team as a hurdler.

“You two must be Miya and Yn. I’m Taehyung.” He stuck out his hand for a handshake.

With a light smile, you reached out to return the handshake. Taehyung had a welcoming aura around him. He had a friendly and approachable vibe. He was tall, athletic, and good looking.

“So, what made you join track?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “It’s our last year in college, wanted to try something different.”

“Hope you like it here.”

Taehyung glanced back at you, casting a boxy grin your way, “I think I will.”

The coach blew their whistle to grab everyone’s attention. Everyone made their way to the centre of the field to start physical training. Training started with light warm-ups before rounds around the track.

While running, Taehyung was happily chatting away with you to get to know you better. “That sucks, so you’re not a hurdler?”

“Nope, I do 4x100s.”

“So, I’ll only get to see you once a week.” Taehyung pouted and you chuckled, “You can see me on other days.”

Track had 3 sessions a week - one combined with everyone and two within your own events. The combined session was physical training for all, hence why you were running rounds with a hurdler by your side.

“I’ll take that up!” He winked at you before speeding up slightly, “Catch me if you can!”

From behind, Jungkook watched you and Taehyung converse with a scowl on his face.

Why were you even talking while jogging? Was Taehyung flirting with you?

He used to be the one disturbing you during these rounds.

Jungkook tried to shrug off the scene of you and Taehyung together, ignoring the bitter feeling growing in his chest.

-

“Don’t feel bad. You’re sick, I’ll bring up some food for you.” You grabbed your student ID and phone as you insisted that Miya stayed in bed. Casting you a weak smile, she thanked you as you left your dorm to head off to the dining hall.

You lucked out when you saw Jungkook standing at the end of the queue, scrolling through his phone. With a deep breathe in as you made your way to join the queue. “Hey.” You gave a cautious greeting towards his way. Jungkook’s heart jumped, his grip tightening on his phone as he looked up to see you smiling at him.

“Hey.”

Jungkook hated how awkward he felt with you. It never used to be that way. Then again, that was a year ago.

You also never understood why Jungkook was the one avoiding you when you were the one who got rejected.

“Today was fun.” Jungkook gave you a toothy grin, “Yea it was.”

“Definitely my new favourite restaurant. I’m so full!” He playfully patted his stomach and you chuckled, “Looks like I know where to go when you start being grumpy or stressed.”

“That’s easy, you don’t have to take me to that restaurant. I just have to spend time with you and I’m good to go.” He shrugged his shoulders. Your heart fluttered at how nonchalant his words were yet so genuine. You had been thinking about it the entire afternoon, contemplating if it was the right decision. But you knew you had to let it out before it was too late.

“You good?” Jungkook pulled you out from your thoughts. “Mm? Oh yea, I’m good.” Your feet lazily kicked a stone in front of you.

“Hey,” Jungkook stopped walking, gently placing his hand on your arm to turn you around to face him. “You can always tell me something.”

“I know, I’m… I’m just tired that’s all.”

Jungkook pursed his lips together, “How about we head over to my place to watch a movie?”

“Sure.”

You let Jungkook choose the movie for the night as your head was far away. Jungkook nudged you, shimmying his shoulders. That was always his signal when he offered his shoulder for you to rest on. You gave him a small smile as you leaned your head on his shoulder.

Despite loving Marvel, you found yourself not paying a single ounce of attention to the movie. Jungkook seemed to have noticed that as you weren’t bantering with his small comments to the movie.

You were brought back to reality when you noticed the movie was paused.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, sitting up to face Jungkook.

“I was about to ask that.”

“I’m… I’m tired. I think I’ll just head home for the night.”

Jungkook frowned and you had to look away to save yourself from crumbling into pieces.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about what’s on your mind?”

You sighed, this was it. You just had to let it out.

“Promise me you won’t hate me?”

“Hate you? Jungkook repeated, “I would never hate you.”

He placed his hand on your knee, encouraging you to continue. “I’ve liked you for a while.” You paused, allowing the words to sink in. You could feel his hand stiffen and you were sure he could hear the loud beating of your heart.

The silence was deafening.

Your confession repeating in both your heads.

As every second dragged on, you started to regret it even more. You had made a terrible mistake and there was no way you could take it back. Life had no re-dos.

“I’m guessing you don’t feel the same way, given the response.” You clicked your tongue together, gathering the courage to look up at him.

Jungkook was lost for words. He would have never expected to hear a confession from you that night. From his closest friend. From his best friend.

Your words left a funny feeling in him that night, but he could not tell whether it was a good or bad feeling.

“Well, don’t worry.” You forced a laugh, “I didn’t expect much anyway. I just wanted to let it out. But I’m guessing I just ruined our friendship.”

“N-No, uh… I just… I just need time to… to absorb all of this.”

You nodded your head, “I understand.” You took it as a cue to get up from the couch, Jungkook’s eyes following your figure. “I’ll see myself out. Sorry for ruining the night.”

“T-Text me when you made it home safely.” Jungkook called out as you headed for the door.

Terrible. Even after ruining your friendship, Jungkook was still looking out for you. You hated how that made you feel. You turned around to face him one more time, a smile plastered on your face.

“Will do. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

It pained Jungkook to see you holding back your tears. If he could have another chance to replay that night. He would’ve stopped you from leaving, he would’ve told you that your friendship wasn’t ruined.

He would’ve done anything he could that night to stop you from leaving his life.

But in reality, he did none of those.

When you texted him that night that you were home, your message was left unread.

You took it as a message to give him time to process everything. A night turned into a day. A day turned into a week. A week turned into a month. A month turned into a year.

It was because of your confession, you both had become strangers once again.

“Yn!”

“Oh, hi Tae!”

Despite using his phone, Jungkook’s attention was on your conversation with Taehyung. You were already calling him ‘Tae’? Since when were you that close with him?

“Namjoon told me Miya’s sick. She alright?”

“Yep, just grabbing food for her so she can take her meds and rest.”

“Need my help?”

“Oh no, all’s good.”

Taehyung nudged you, “It’s alright, you have to get your own food too. I’ve already eaten, I can help carry her food up to your dorm, check up on her as well.”

“Sure, if you’re free, that is.”

“Free for you.” He teased and you laughed, looking away momentarily to see Jungkook who seemed to be invested in his phone.

“Oh, Jungkook! Didn’t recognise you at first. How’ve you been?”

Jungkook looked up to greet Taehyung, “H-Hey, I’ve been well.”

Ever since meeting Taehyung, he got along with your group easily. In fact, he got along with everyone effortlessly. He knew almost everyone in the track team only after 2 weeks. That meant only 2 combined sessions. Somehow along the way, it seemed that he had introduced himself to Jungkook as well.

Taehyung was amazing with people and that was admirable. The more you got to know Taehyung, the more you looked forward to hanging out with him.

“See you next practice!” Taehyung happily patted Jungkook’s shoulders goodbye as you two went off a different direction towards your dorm.

You barely register their conversation as your head was somewhere else, recalling the night you had confessed.

“Hey, are you okay?” Taehyung’s concerned voice made you look up to meet his eyes.

“I’m okay.”

Taehyung frowned, glancing behind to see Jungkook looking at the two of you walking away. Jungkook shook his head, quickly glancing away as Taehyung caught him looking.

“Something to do with Jungkook, perhaps?”

Taehyung was very observant and you knew you couldn’t fool him as well.

“Sort of… We just used to be close but... He’s been avoiding me and I’ve been trying to salvage whatever’s left. But it doesn’t seem to be working.”

Taehyung pursed his lips together, “It’s not fair if only one party is putting in the effort, you know.”

“I know, it’s just that… We used to be close.” You sighed as you stepped into the elevator with him, your gaze on your tray of food.

“Still, it’s not worth salvaging if you’re the only one putting in the effort. I’m sure you’ve done your best. Sometimes, you just can’t force things to happen.”

As the elevator opened to your level, you allowed his words to sink in.

“Miya! We come with food!” Taehyung grinned, bringing the tray to your sick roommate as she thanked the two of you for your help.

Your eyes trailed to Taehyung who was helping Miya grab her medicine and a glass of water.

Maybe Taehyung was right. Maybe it’s time to stop trying.

[glossvante]

Behind Closed Doors 01

Rated: M | 18+

Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

Genre: High school/Step-Siblings, Explicit smut.

Word Count: 5.1k

Part: One | Two |

Warning: Step-siblings, Explicit & graphic sexual content, Alcohol consumption, Language

Summary: After moving to a new city, a rager of a party and an intense, all consuming, mindless fuck with a tall dark stranger seemed to be exactly what you were craving. A one night stand never hurt anyone, right? Until of course, that stranger turned out to be your new step brother.

Note: I’ve been looking for a new step-sibling Jungkook fic for a while and couldn’t find one so I decided to write it myself sdjkdjfjk. This chapter is more setting up the rest of the story but I hope you guys like it! Also, the other bts members make brief appearances as the story progresses, as well as a few blackpink girls. I’m newer to tumblr so if you like the fic please show some love & some feedback and I’ll upload part two soon. Love you guys and hope you enjoy ;).

Part One

You realized your room had turned into somewhat of a shit show while getting ready, as per usual. Nothing you couldn’t fix later though, you had enough on your mind right now. You were mildly panicked while getting dressed because you had to look at least somewhat attractive tonight. It was the first party you’d been invited since you moved here 3 weeks ago and you wanted to make a good impression. Moving away, changing high schools and leaving behind all your friends in the middle of the year wasn’t the most ideal situation for you, to say the least. You tried as long as you could to avoid accepting the reality of everything but the first day of school is when it really hit. Considering the fact that your last school wasn’t even half as big or well-funded as your new one, it was an adjustment figuring everything out. You were anxious about not knowing a single person the entire day until you met Lisa and Jennie in physics. The three of you guys sorta just clicked and became friends with ease. They showed you around and it relieved some of your social anxiety to know that there were at least a few cool people here.

Earlier in the day, Jennie texted you, inviting you to a party at her ex-boyfriends place. You hadn’t met him yet and were slightly confused as to why Jennie parties with her ex but she explained that her and Taehyung were cool with each other now. She also mentioned that pretty much everyone else in your senior class was going to be there too. Hence why you needed to look hot as fuck.

You studied your reflection in the mirror, deciding wether or not to change your outfit for the third time in the past 10 minutes. Yup, you needed to. You lifted the dress off of your body with a sigh and returned to your closet, hoping to find anything remotely cute at this point. Shortly after making another mess, you came across an old satin black dress. You picked it up and held it to your body, wondering if it would still fit, it had been a while since the last time you wore it. It couldn’t hurt to just try it on, you thought. You slipped the dress on over your head and adjusted it to your body before reaching towards the small of your back, praying to God it would zip up.

Finally, you were able to get it closed. You turned your body at all angles in the mirror to get an extensive view of your look. The dress had become a bit too form-fitting and an maybe an inch too short on you over time but you looked...good. Finally, you thought, you could work with this. You knew your mom would never let you get away with it though. To compromise, you decided to throw a sweatshirt on over the dress to cover up, at least until you left the house. You threw your lipgloss, phone, and all the necessities into your handbag and rushed downstairs to say goodbye to your mom.

You opened her rooms door and stuck your head in, shocked to see her getting ready to go out as well. “Where are you going?” You asked, confused. She didn’t mention she had any plans. “John invited me out. He said it’s a surprise.” She said excitedly, with half of her attention focused on styling her hair. “Again? The same guy?” You asked. After your parents divorced when you were young, your mom became somewhat of a serial dater. No one guy was ever right for her or stuck around long enough. If you were being honest, you stopped keeping track of your moms love life a while ago. “Yes the same guy.” She replied with a slight attitude. You were taken aback by that, this had to be the longest she’s been consistently seeing one guy. You knew she was glad you guys were able to find a house in the area, so she could see him more often but you didn’t think much of it at the time. Maybe she was finally starting to get serious with someone. You hadn’t met him yet but now, you were starting to get curious. “Alright, I’m gonna go but have fun on your date.” You replied getting ready to turn and leave. “Wait, you’re hanging out with Jennie tonight right? Tell her I say Hi.” She said. You almost forgot for a moment that you lied to her about the party. So what if she thinks you’re going to a girls night out with Jennie? You figured the less she knows, the less she’ll worry. And technically speaking, you weren’t really lying to your mom, you actually were going to hang out with her tonight. Or at least that’s what you told yourself. “Yeah, uh I will. See you later! Love you!” You said. “Okay bye, love you!” She replied as you left, shutting the door behind you.

-

You almost thought you had the wrong address when your gps began taking you up into the hills. Even though you were new to the area, you knew only rich people lived up here. Your jaw dropped when you finally pulled up to your destination, going back to your texts to make sure you put the right one in. It was a massive house, like some shit you’d see in a magazine or on TV. Jennie’s ex must be rich rich you thought to yourself. There were a bunch of cars parallel parked on the side of the street, so you pulled in and did the same. It really did seem like everyone was here. You quickly checked yourself in the car mirror, reapplying your lip and fixing your hair before heading inside. You could hear loud music pour out of the function as soon as you stepped out of your car, thankfully there weren’t many other houses nearby to complain about the noise. One of the many perks of living in luxury you supposed.

Your anxiety started to kick in as you headed in through the front door with a few strangers, losing them in the crowd as you entered. Woah. You definitely didn’t go to parties like this at your old school. Red neon lights saturated the air in every room, a dense cloud of smoke lingered above the crowd and the music followed you wherever you went. You tried to take it all in as made your way through the crowd hoping to find a single recognizable face. You walked through the living room and entered the kitchen, shocked by how many bottles of alcohol were just laying around, expensive ones too. You poured yourself a diluted mixed drink in attempt to calm your nerves.

“Y/N!!!!!” You heard you’re name in a high pitched scream from behind you. It was Jennie, she jumped up and gave you a hug from behind. “I was looking for you! God you scared me.” You admitted with a laugh. “Oops sorryyy.” She apologized, she was entirely too giggly and spoke with a slur. You could tell she was a few drinks ahead of you. “You look so hot tonight what the fuck?” She exclaimed, a too little loud. “Thanks.” You said with a smile, flattered by the compliment. “What are you doing?” She asked looking down at your cup. “You need a shot! Not whatever this is. Do one with me!” She pleaded, you considered it for a moment. “I don’t know, I don’t wanna get too drunk.” You explained. She rolled her eyes at that. “Okay bitch, first of all why not, and second of all come on! A couple shots never hurt anyone.” You saw the look on her face, Jennie could be pretty convincing when she wanted to be. Fuck it right? After all, you were at a party. “Okay fineee.” You agreed reluctantly. She was ecstatic at your response, immediately reaching for a dark liquor and pouring both of you a shot. You clinked glasses before taking them down, feeling an immediate bitterness in your mouth and a warmth in your chest. “That tastes like shit.” You told her, wiping a drop from your lips. She laughed at that. “Trust me you can’t even feel it after a few.” She poured another shot for you and herself. You both braced yourselves and took it back. She lied, the second one definitely tasted worse. You cringed from the taste. “The faces you make are too funny.” Jennie teased while laughing. She reached for the bottle one more time and started to pour another round. “Are you trying to get me drunk? Cus if you want me or something just say that.” You said, trying to holding back your laughter. She shoved you in response, only mildly amused by your words. “I hate you.” She handed you the last shot and you both took it down.

No Idea by Don Toliver began playing loudly from the speakers and Jennie screamed in response. “Ah! I love this song! Dance with me?”Jennie asked, extending her hand to you. You rolled your eyes before taking it, allowing her to drag you to the living room. You weren’t exactly a talented dancer, like Jennie, so usually you’d feel a bit awkward while dancing but that wasn’t the case tonight. Maybe it was just because the crowd was so live or the music was thumping or those shots you just took, but you were feeling right. Jennie put her hands on your waist and pulled you closer to her, guiding you into the rythym. You both moved as if your bodies had synced with the music, dancing all over each other. For a moment it felt like you and everyone else in the room were on the same wavelength. While dancing, you locked eyes with a guy leaning against a the wall, a distance away from you. His eyes were dark and peircing, shaded by long locks of his jet black hair. He took a sip of his drink and a slight smirk crept onto his face as he realized he’d caught your attention, as if he’d had his eyes on you for a while. You kept your focus him on while you were dancing, observing him as he gave you a long look from your head to your toes.

In the midst of the moment, the two of you were interrupted by Jennie. “There’s no fucking way.” She said, shocked. You quickly turned your attention to her, wondering what she was talking about. Her smiled had faded and her body stilled as she looked at something in the crowd. As if she had seen something she wished she didn’t. “Jennie.” You said concerned. You tried to follow her line of sight to see what was going on, scanning the room. “What’s wrong?” You asked loudly, leaning into her. “Fucking Taehyung.” She gestured towards a far corner. You turned to look, only to see a guy you assumed to be Taehyung with his tongue halfway down some girls throat and his eyes on Jennie. He winked at her, like he was glad that she had seen. Gross. You couldn’t help but feel shitty for her. Guess everything with them wasn’t cool after all.

“I’m sorry. Fuck him.” You said loudly, trying to console her over the sound of the music. You could see she was hurt but she hid it behind a wall of anger. “Two can play at that game you know.” She replied calmly. “I invented that game.” You hadn’t really seen her like this before, she was lethal and you could feel it. She pulled away from you. “I’ll be back.” She shouted. “Wait what? where are you going?” You asked, worried about her. “I’m fine I just have to do something. I’ll find you later okay? Sorry!” She said, before walking away, leaving you in the middle of the crowd. You didn’t fully believe her when she said she was fine but if she wanted some time alone, you were gonna let her have it. It didn’t stop you from worrying though.

You sighed before shuffling your way out of the living room and to a quieter spot against the wall. You pulled out your phone to check it. You sent a few snaps to some old friends and a text to update your mom so she wouldn’t worry. After that, you headed back into the kitchen in search of something to drink that wasn’t hard liquor. All that dancing made you thirsty. You opened the fridge, allowing the light from inside to pour out, mixing with the neon red tint already in the air. You bent over to look inside for a water bottle, juice, or even a godamn soda. After shuffling some things around, you came up dry. All you could find was extra beer. Did these people only drink alcohol? You shut the door of the fridge in disappointment and turned to walk away, only to be stopped by the view in front of you. The same eyes you spotted from a distance earlier were now right in front of you. You studied all of him for a moment, just now being able to get real look at him. He was leaned against the kitchen island coolly, looking right at you. It wasn’t hard to figure out that he was attractive, in pretty much every single physical way there was. You found yourself admiring his style and shiny silver rings over his black ink tattoos. You nearly let yourself get lost in his picture before the thought occurred to you. How long had he been standing there? You immediately felt timid, realizing that if he was there for long enough, he for sure had a perfect view of your ass while you were bending over in the fridge. Now was probably a good time for you to stop starting at him say something, like anything.

“Hi.” You said, regretting it immediately. Hi? Really? In your defense, it was all you could get out in front of his naturally intimidating presence. At least you broke the silence, you thought. “Hi.” He responded with a soft smile on his face. “How come I haven’t seen you around here before?” He inquired, taking a sip from his red solo cup. “I uh.. I just moved here a couple weeks ago.” You explained, wondering why he had taken a sudden interest in specifically you. “Ah that explains it.” He said nonchalantly. “Explains what?” You raised an eyebrow. “Why we haven’t hung out before.” He finished. It was obvious to you he meant more with his words by the look on his face. “So is that why you were watching me earlier? You wanna ‘hang out’ with me?” You teased, being thankful that alcohol gave you more courage than you ever would have sober. He chuckled at that before taking a step toward you. You notably felt your heart rate increase. There was a part of you that wanted to take a step back, increasing the space between you two but you ultimately ignored it. He leaned into you to speak in your ear, just loud and close enough so you could hear his words and feel the warmth on his breath on your neck. “You know why I was watching you dance, just like I know why you’re still standing here, talking to me.” He withdrew slightly, now facing you. His focus shifted from your eyes down to your lips for just a moment before returning. Fuck. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t melt a little right there. He was confident if anything, and nothing turned you on more. You could smell the alcohol on him, his lips still wet from his most recent sip. Lust and drinks were dangerous combination and he seemed determined to get his fix.

”So what are you going to about it?” You asked calmly, faking just enough confidence to pretend like he didn’t have you dying inside. A devilish smirk appeared on his face as if he were playing out the answer in his head. You could feel yourself get warmer, your cheeks had to have been noticeably red by now. You had an overwhelming feeling he could see right through you. He didn’t give you an answer and instead, pulled away returning to his drink, seeming all too satisfied with himself and his effect on you. “Hey!” You heard a voice call out to you from a distance, both of you turned to look at the source. It was Jennie, finally returning. Worse timing just didn’t exist, you thought. She gestured at you to come near her and you nodded in agreement. Hesitantly, you pulled away from the kitchen but not before sharing one last loaded look with those dark eyes, as if there was more to be said, more to be done, and not nearly enough hours in the night for any of it. He let you leave without a word, and the interaction lingered fresh in your mind.

You walked up to Jennie. “Hey! Where’d you go?” You asked. “I kinda did something bad.” She admitted. You were instantly curious and slightly worried at the same time. “Don’t scare me, what happened?” You asked. She hesitated a moment before answering. “I kinda... blew Tae’s best friend. In his bed.” She laughed, covering her smile with her hand. What? You were wondering if you heard that right. “No you fucking didn’t. Who?!” You inquired in awe, shocked but impressed at the lengths this girl would go to for revenge. You made a mental note to not get on her bad side. “Jimin.” She pointed him out in the crowd so you could put a face to the name. “He’s always had a thing for me so it was easy.... and quick.” She joked, now making you laugh, you shook your head, still in a state of disbelief. Okay so obviously, Jennie wasn’t the best at dealing with her hurt and her & Taehyung definitely didn’t have the most healthy relationship but they’ve been on and off for like two years now, you figured they’re probably used to shit like this. And even if you didn’t completely agree with her method of revenge, Taehyung had it coming. You knew she was on one tonight, already hurting, and you figured it’d be easier just to be supportive. “Honestly, he kind of asked for it when he made out with that bitch in front of you.” You pointed out, she laughed at that. Your smile faded as you looked to your left to see a more-than-pissed-off Taehyung walking towards you two. Looks like news traveled here, fast. “Jennie.” You gestured towards him to let her know he was coming, by the look on his face it was obvious he knew. “Here come the fireworks.” Jennie announced under her breath. He walked up to you both, sparing you a moments glance before grabbing Jennie by her arm. “What’s up babe?” She asked casually. He wasn’t having it. “We need to talk.” His voice was so low it was kind of scary, he pulled her to the side and she went along, only with some resistance.

Once again, you were on your own. You decided to find a bathroom to freshen yourself up a bit in the mean time. Unfortunately, all the ones downstairs were occupied or had muffled moans from behind the door. You decided to head upstairs, hoping to find an unoccupied one there. Most of the doors were locked, storage, or closets. You were close to giving up before you found a room at the end of the hall was empty and unlocked. A bedroom. You didn’t think anyone would mind if you used the mirror, so you walked in real quick and did. You rearranged your hair and reapplied your lip gloss.

As you were finishing up your last coat of gloss, you heard the door creak open behind you and shut. You immediately turned to look, surprised to see the same guy from earlier. “Hi.” He said with a smile, leaning against the door. “You stalking me now?” You teased, putting the gloss back into your handbag and setting it on the side table near you. “Can you blame me? We didn’t get to finish our... talk.” He said, locking the door behind him. With the sound of that click, it became clear your meeting had a different context. You could feel the atmosphere in the room change to become... heavier almost. He approached you, deleting the space between you with each movement. It also didn’t help that you already had your back against a wall, there really was nowhere to go this time. You swallowed a lump in your throat you didn’t realize was there to begin with. “You know...” He began, getting closer to you now than before, “I can’t stop thinking about you in this fucking dress.” He spoke lowly. You saw his lust-filled eyes staring back at you as his hands reached down to your waistline, tracing the edges of your body. You felt chills follow as his hand found its way from your hips down to your outer thighs, lightly grazing your ass. “Yeah?” You asked, at a loss of words due to your proximity to him. You were rendered practically helpless to his touch, there wasn’t much your body allowed you to do in his presence except submit to his will. “Yeah.” He replied. Once he reached the lower hem of your dress he let himself teeter at the edge. You bit your lip, maintaining eye contact, knowing what you craved at your core, praying he knew too.

He let hands linger on you a moment before he slipped two fingers under the lower band of your dress, you immediately felt the coldness of his hands against the soft skin of your outer thighs as he lifted the fabric slowly, just high up enough to have access to you. And all you did, was let him. He placed a hand at your center, feeling the wetness that had soaked through your panties. You blushed, embarrassed at the wet mess you’d become throughout the night. “Fuck, you’re so wet...” He said, speaking in a tone much lower than before. “...all for me?” He asked. It definitely was. The built up tension mixed between you two was enough to get you there. You were flustered by his practically immediate hold on you, all you wanted to do was anything he wanted you to. All you wanted to say was everything and anything he wanted to hear. “Mmhm.” You nodded, your faces closer than ever. He seemed satisfied with your response because in turn, he gave you the friction you were craving. Your breathing became unsteady as he let his hand grind against you outside the fabric of your panties, pressing his middle finger into your slit with the perfect amount of pressure. He created just enough need burning inside of you for you to know it wasn’t nearly enough. He enjoyed teasing you, it was all over his face. You needed more. You craved more.

And as if he could read your mind, he finally slipped his hand underneath the waistband of your panties and stimulated your clit with his bare hand. You let out a a whine as he felt all of you, high off the sensation of skin to skin contact. Every warm and wet bit of you was in his hands. “Fuck.” You said breathily. He moved softly, in small circles at first, setting every single one of your nerve endings on fire. He could see the satisfaction in your face, you couldn’t hide it even if you tried at this point. He increased his pace, hearing the sounds of your scattered whines and whimpers gradually increase in volume. He was relentless, reaching the most sensitive parts of you and exacting completely and utter pleasure. His forehead rested against yours as your eyes shut in pleasure. It felt as if there was some overwhelming magnetic pull drawing you into each other, you couldn’t really tell who leaned in first as your soft pink lips collided desperately with his. You moaned into his mouth. He slipped his tongue inside your mouth, gliding perfectly against yours in a heavenly rhythm. You felt a kind of intimacy within the kiss that was rare to you. Of course he was a good kisser, like really good.

You lightly bit his lip as he slipped a finger inside of you. It was as if kissing you only set him off more. You adjusted to him with ease considering how wet he had you before even touching you. He began pumping in and out of you, creating a new sensation only adding to the hopeless mess you’d become due to him. He moved inside you at the perfect angle. You reluctantly pulled your lips away from his for a moment so you could catch your breath. “Please.” You moaned softly, stunned with pleasure. “Please what?” He asked sternly, as if he wanted you to use your words, describing the sensations you were feeling, how he made you feel. “Please d- don’t stop.... please? It feels so fucking amazing.” You pleaded, feeling your impending climax within reach. He inserted another finger in you, curling them both inside you to hit your sweet spot with every pump. Fuck. That was it. How did he seem to have every inch of your body figured out already? In response, you, without consciously realizing it, began grinding your hips into him hopelessly. Your mouth opened in pleasure.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” He asked lowly, studying every part of you, he was so enamored with the moment, there was nothing in this world that could pull either of you away from this. You were almost too high off him to respond, but you nodded frantically as another moan escaped your lips. “Yes.” You admitted. You could feel your orgasm nearing as you slowly lost your others senses. “You’re gonna cum all over my hand?” He asked, moving himself faster somehow, you didn’t think it was possible. “Fuck, yes.” All you could feel now was him, pushing you to the edge, moving his fingers to penetrate inside of you at a pace you’d never felt before. “Cum for me.” He ordered, ready to witness you fall apart in front of him, all because of him. You obeyed, feeling a wave of euphoria crash into you and travel to the depths your body, cumming hard. Your cunt pulsated around his fingers as your body trembled in complete physical pleasure. This had to be heaven. The only thought in your head while you were in the clouds? You wanted more. How could you still crave more?

When you opened your eyes, returning back to planet earth, your breathing returned to normal again. All you could see was him in front of you. Those dark eyes were filled with want. You let your eyes trail down to the bulge between his legs. His cock was begging to be released from the restraining fabric of his clothes. Poor guy, he was so focused on you the whole time, he needed immediate relief. You slowly reached your hand down to the waist band of his pants. He didn’t make a single movement, as if he didn’t want to miss a moment of you. You slipped your hands underneath his pants, tracing the length of him from outside his briefs. He was so fucking hard. You wondered how he managed to fight the urge to turn you over and fuck you right there against the wall.

You dropped down to your knees and lowered his clothing, allowing him to reveal all of himself to you. You looked him in the eyes as you let your tongue wet the underside of his cock until it reached the head. He watched intently as you let your tongue slide across his slit before taking the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his hypersensitive head. Teasing him, just like he did you. You heard a suppressed moan from deep inside him. That was enough to motivation for you take all of him into your into your mouth. The warm wet softness surrounded him as your mouth fit tight around his cock. You heard his breath hitch. The sight of your face on him mixed with the sensation, it was just enough to drive him crazy. He was leaking with so much precum, you could taste it. He slowly began rocking his hips into your throat. You felt him sink into further and further into pleasure with each thrust. He threw his head back as you finally took him deep into your throat. Holding your breath, you rocked yourself back and forth on his cock. The soft tightness of your throat bobbing up and down on the head of his cock was overwhelming enough for his eyes to roll back into his head. “Fuckkk.” He moaned breathily, it was obvious he was already close to his limit.

“S-stop.” He said hesitantly. You ignored it and continued, determined to make him cum as hard as you just did. “Don’t make me cum. I-...” He paused what he was saying, distracted by the wave of pleasure he felt as you took him deep into your warm throat again, disregarding his words. “I’ve been dying to get inside you all night.” He admitted breathily, in attempt to get you to stop sucking his cock so he could stuff it inside you instead. Your insides throbbed at the thought of it. Although you wouldn’t mind having him inside you, like at all, you knew he was close to riding out his orgasm and you wanted to see the look his face when he came, from this angle. You looked up at him innocently and kept going. He tried to back up slightly, but you didn’t let him. “Fuck.” He said under his breath, tired of trying so hard hold back his release. Everything he was saying went out the window as he gave into his most primal desires, rocking his hips into you, chasing his orgasm, and contradicting himself once more. “God you feel so fucking good.” He mumbled as his thrusts gradually became sloppier and more desperate. He reached a hand down to entangle in your hair, pushing himself deeper into you as his body tensed up and stilled. He let out a moan as he came down your throat. You could feel the warmth of the large pool of cum in you, you swallowed it all cleanly.

He pulled out of you once his orsgasm faded. Seeming satisfied that you swallowed. You stood up and cleaned off your mouth, and readjusted your dress. Assessing how bad the damage was to your appearance from what you two had just done. He put himself back in his pants and did the same in the mirror. There was an kind of afterglow that surrounded the both of you. You looked at him through the reflection in the mirror. “Sorry I didn’t stop.” You said with a smile, realizing afterward that you probably should have. He returned a smile and shrugged. “It’s fine. You can make it up to me next time.”

He left you with those words and exited the room. You found yourself wondering what he meant by “next time” and if there would be one. How could there be? You didn’t even know the guys name, or number, or anything substantial about him really. You shrugged it off, deciding not to think too much into it, sometimes a one night stand was just that. A one night stand.

End of Part One

[lilliagradiewrites]

say that you’re mine (harry styles)

Summary: You and Harry attend a Christmas party for the cast and crew of Don’t Worry Darling, and a guy gets a little too flirty for Harry’s liking.

WC: 1.9k

WARNINGS: drinking/alcohol, cursing, and jealousy i guess? not sure if that needs a warning, but it’s the main content of this piece. This has mentions of sexy time, but no actual smut.

A/N: Here we go!!! I have loved Harry for so long and have been wanting to write for him forever. I’ve written many things, but none of them turned out well enough for me to upload them. This one turned out pretty okay, so I hope you guys like it! I know this is different than my usual content, but if any harries happen across it, I hope they enjoy it. If you want, replace Harry with Rudy Pankow, and DWD with OBX Season 2 lol.

I love you all so much, and I hope you enjoy!!!

LET’S DO IT!!!

~~~~~~~~~~

The night started out strong. You looked good, you felt good. A few drinks had already been consumed before arriving at the event, and so you were already in the party mood. Harry, your boyfriend of over a year, looked gorgeous as always. Everything was perfect.

Until him.

Harry noticed the guy’s infatuation with you long before you did. You were out on the dance floor, looking amazing, having the time of your life. A smile was on your face as you moved your body to the music. You looked genuinely happy, and the sight made Harry even happier. He watched you intently, his eyes focused on nothing else but you.

Something began to feel off, however, and he quickly noticed that his eyes weren’t the only pair that were locked on your body.

Across the room, another man watched you with the same intensity as Harry, sipping his drink sensually. Harry didn’t like it. Not. At. All.

He had always been incredibly possessive over you, but especially when you looked like this. It was rare that you got super dressed up like this, and you looked incredible. Your makeup was done flawlessly, and your hair looked stunning. You were breathtaking.

And that dress. God, that dress.

It was a little black number that you had gotten a while ago, and you had been waiting patiently for months to have a reason to wear it. When Harry had told you about the cast Christmas party, you had mainly been excited to pull this dress from the back of your closet, where it had been collecting dust since you purchased it.

Harry had a love-hate relationship with the dress.

He loved it because you looked so fucking good in it.

He hated it because you looked so fucking good in it.

Of course he loved seeing you in it. He got to admire what was his, every curve on full display.

But, the issue was, that if he could see it, everyone else could, too.

Men had been ogling you all night, making his jaw clench and his hand form into fists, but none of them were like this guy.

The man was watching you with such intensity, Harry was surprised he hadn’t burned holes through your skin.

It took a lot of self control for Harry to keep from walking over and punching the absolute shit out of that guy.

When you eventually walked back over, Harry took the opportunity to show that man who you belonged to.

“Hey, lovie. Havin’ fun?” He asked as you approached him.

“Mhm, I-” Your words were cut off by your boyfriend grabbing your waist and pulling you in close, kissing you roughly.

You kissed back for a moment before pulling away, shock evident on your face.

“Woah.” You breathed. “What was that for? I mean I liked it, but…”

“Just showin’ you how that dancin’ you did made me feel.”

Your cheeks reddened immediately, and you dropped his gaze. Before you could look too far away forever, he was taking your chin into his hand, guiding your face to meet his.

“Don’ get all shy on me now, lovie. When you danced like tha’, wearin’ a dress like tha’, you lost the privilege.”

You giggled lightly, your cheeks growing even redder.

“Now, darlin’, I have to go talk to that guy,” He pointed across the room to a man in a fancy suit, “about shooting dates for next year. We can talk about this more when I come back, mm?”

All you could was nod. By your reaction to his words, he knew he had you wrapped around his finger. He gave you a wink that left you flustered as ever, and went on his way.

Now you stood alone, and didn’t exactly know what to do. You could go back out and dance until Harry was finished, but you felt as if your knees might collapse because of your previous encounter. Your only other option was to sit at the bar, and you were wanting another drink anyway. So, you found an empty seat and sat yourself in it, waiting for the bartender to come over to you.

Unbeknown to you, a man was headed your way, his eyes trained on the empty seat beside you.

Though you had no idea, Harry, across the room, was watching the guys’ every move. He had been keeping an eye on the man ever since he caught the guy watching you on the dance floor. As soon as he noticed the guy walking over to you, Harry’s jaw grew firm, and his fist clenched.

He willed himself to have self control, but also knew that if the guy laid a finger on you, he wouldn’t be able to keep his composure.

At the bar, the bartender had finally approached you, and you smiled politely as she greeted you.

“Hi, honey, what can I get for you?”

“An old-fashioned, please.”

“Alright, coming right up.”

You thanked the bartender as she turned around to begin making your drink. At this point, the stranger from the other side of the room had made his way over, and he slid into the seat beside you.

“Oh- hello.” You said, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the man.

“Hey, how are you? I’m Jason.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.”

The man nodded, a charming smile on his face. “Y/N.” He echoed. “That’s very pretty.”

“Thank you.” You politely replied. At this point, the bartender was walking up to you from behind the counter, your old-fashioned in her hand.

“One old-fashioned for you, honey. That’ll be 10.23.”

Jason, the man sitting beside you, reached quickly for his wallet. “Here, let me get that for you.”

“No, it’s okay.” You said immediately, knowing Harry wouldn’t like it if someone else bought you a drink. “I’m alright. Thank you though.”

“No, really, I-” Jason tried to insist, but you were already handing your card to the bartender.

Jason, who’s cheeks were now slightly pink, put his wallet back in his pocket.

“An old-fashioned, huh?” He said, very obviously as an attempt to make light conversation. “A classic. Not many people here like stuff like that, usually get the super fruity shit.”

Going along with it to be polite, you replied. “Yeah, I prefer simpler drinks. I don’t like anything too fancy.”

“I usually get a Manhattan, myself.” Jason says, motioning to the drink in his hand.

“I’ve never had one. They aren't terribly different from an old-fashioned, right?”

He shakes his head. “Yeah, they’re quite similar. If you finish that one, I’ll buy you a Manhattan so you can taste the difference for yourself.”

You shook your head. He clearly didn’t get the hint the first time. “That’s very sweet, but I’m alright. This will probably be my last drink for the night.”

“You sure? I’d really like to get one for you.”

“Yes, I’m sure. But thank you.”

Jason just nodded, not knowing what else to say.

From across the room, Harry was still having his conversation with the Assistant Director, but was barely focused on it. The only thing he could focus on was you and that guy, sitting and having a conversation at the bar. What was he saying to you? Why was he smiling like that? Why were YOU smiling? The whole thing frustrated him, and he couldn’t wait for this conversation to end so that he could go over there.

“So, what do you do on set? Are you in the cast?” You were still talking to Jason, not knowing what else to do as you waited for your boyfriend to return.

“I work in audio. Microphones, boom mics, and voiceover shit. I’m behind the scenes, so you probably haven’t seen me much. Are you in the cast?”

“Oh, no, I came with-”

“Me.” A familiar voice came over your shoulder, and you turned to find Harry behind you.

“Harry Styles, nice to meet you.” He was talking to Jason, but his hands slid around your waist. You could tell by the way that his brow was furrowed that he wasn’t too happy.

“Oh, shit. The Harry Styles? Nice to meet you, man.” It took Jason a second to realize that Harry was holding you, but once he did, it was obvious. His eyebrows raised, his eyes went wide. “Oh, Y/N, you came with him? Are the two of you dating?”

“Yes, we are.” Harry spoke for you. He turned his head in your direction so that he was speaking into your ear, but talked loud enough for Jason to hear. “I have someone I want you meet, love, so we should probably head over there.”

You nodded quickly. “Okay.” You stood up from your chair, giving Jason another polite smile. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Jason. Maybe I’ll see you around the set when I’m there visiting.”

Jason nodded and smiled. “Have a good night.”

You took your drink from the counter as Harry took your hand, dragging you away from the bar and toward the back corner of the room. It took you a second, but you eventually realized that he wasn’t leading you to meet anyone.

You were headed towards the bathrooms.

When you arrived at your destination, Harry pulled the door open as dragged you inside, closing and locking it after you were both in.

When he rounded on you, your cheeks went pink with nerves.

“You think that was funny, love? Flirtin’ with another guy at one of MY work events? You think that’s cute?”

All you could do was nod.

“Words, baby. I want an answer. Was flirtin’ with him funny to you?”

“Wasn’t flirting with him.” You squeaked out, the color in your cheeks even darker.

“You weren’t flirtin’ with him? Then why were you smilin’ like tha’?”

“I was just trying to be nice, Haz. You know, treat people with kindness?”

Harry’s eyes darkened immediately, and he grabbed your chin, yanking it upwards so that you’d meet his eyes.

“Don’ play tha’ game with me, lovie. Not tonight.”

His eyes flicked back and forth between yours, and you felt a warmth grow in your lower half.

“I saw the way he was lookin’ at you. He was watchin’ you all night. Was practically fuckin’ you with his eyes.” Harry's voice was menacing, and you were beginning to melt under his gaze. “I didn’t like tha’. Not. At. All.”

Harry took his free hand and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you abruptly into him you yelped at the sudden movement.

“You are mine, Y/N. Just mine.”

You nodded, but Harry wanted more.

“Say it. Say that you’re mine.”

“I-I’m yours, Harry. I’m all yours.”

“That’s righ’.” He said, releasing you from his grip. “Now here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m goin’ to say goodbye to Olivia and Florence and a few other people, and then we are going home so I can really show you who you belong to, alrigh’? Finish your drink, return the glass, and then come find me. Don’ you dare talk to that guy, alrigh’?”

You nodded for what felt like the millionth time that night, and Harry reached around you to unlock the door and open it.

As you walked out of the bathroom, you looked towards the bar. Jason was no longer sitting there, and you could see him anywhere near there. You headed straight over there, wanting to follow Harry’s instructions exactly.

As you walked, you couldn’t help but be excited for what would happen when you got home.

~~~~~ A/N: Alright, y’all: there it is! My first Harry fic! This is on the shorter side but I hope you guys still liked it. All notes and weblogs are super appreciated!

ALSO: SEND REQUESTS!! I write for:

- Harry Styles

- Outer Banks

- Harry Potter Universe

- Marvel Universe

-Timothee Chalamet

REQUEST THINGS, I would love to write for y'all!

Once again, I love you all so much!!!

[journalxxx]

By Hook or by Crook (7)

“So! How does it look?” Toshinori asked, with a booming voice and his best hands-on-hips pose to kickstart the endeavor with a healthy dose of enthusiasm.

He wasn’t particularly successful. 

“Daunting. Impossible. Like I’m gonna die of old age before I’m anywhere close to making a change.”

“A little optimism goes a long way, you know?”

“...I may not die before I’ve lugged away some of this.” Midoriya amended tentatively, scanning the extensive length of garbage-filled beach stretching before them. “And… what doesn’t kill me will make me stronger?”

“That’s the spirit!” Toshinori gave him a pat on the back, strong enough to make the boy stammer forwards. He walked around the back of the truck and started unloading the few supplies he’d brought.

“Wear these.” Toshinori threw him a pair of work gloves. He hoped he’d eyeballed the size right. “I trust you’re up to date with all your vaccines.”

“Uhm.”

“Hopefully no one’s dumping organic waste in here, but I’ll bring some traps if you see any rats. They won’t solve the problem, but it’s better than letting them scurry around freely.”

Midoriya’s eyes darted between the gloves and the beach with muted horror. “R-Rats?”

“Scared of rats?” Toshinori couldn’t help but tease. “Did I mention that I had to wade through the sewers for half an hour before finding you and the sludge villain the other day?”

Midoriya instantly looked mortified. “I-I’m sorry-”

“Not your fault! Don’t apologize!” Toshinori tossed his hands in the air. This kid desperately needed to learn the basic mechanics of humor. “I’m just saying that heroes can’t be squeamish! Rats come with the job, as well as a variety of nasty stuff and filth.”

“Right.” Midoriya followed him as Toshinori, cooler in one hand and bag of papers in the other, sat down on the last steps of the stairs. He picked an egg sandwich for himself and fished a folder out of the bag, opening it on his thighs and starting to read it.

It took him a few seconds to realize that Midoriya was still staring at him, as if awaiting further instructions.

“Well? Have at it!” Toshinori gestured widely at his new playground.

“Oh, uhm, okay.” The kid donned the gloves and took a single step towards the piles before pausing to look at Toshinori again. “I thought you wanted to ask me… stuff.”

“Yes, but I’m not sure you can handle working and talking at the same time without building up some stamina first.” Toshinori answered, eyeing the boy’s scrawny frame critically. “We’ll talk while you’ll be taking a break to catch a breather, which is probably going to happen sooner rather than later.”

“Oh… All right.” Midoriya turned away, his arms hanging limply from hunched shoulders as he muttered to himself.  “...Where do I even start...?”

“From the small things. Working your way up to the heavier objects.” Toshinori explained patiently, then gave him a pointed look. “I get the feeling you’re procrastinating.”

The boy approached the closest stack… and did nothing. Was he ever going to stop waffling and get cracking? “Meanwhile, you’ll just, uh… do your own thing?”

“Surely you don’t need me to guide you through the elaborate process of moving objects from point A to point B, do you?” Maybe the kid detected the hint of annoyance in Toshinori’s voice, because he finally, finally set to grab the closest piece of junk- “...Oh. Okay, that’s not a great start.”

“What?” Midoriya stopped halfway through picking up what was probably the first electric fan ever invented, all the way back in the Iron Age. “I haven’t even done anything yet!”

“Bend your knees, not your back. Otherwise you’re going to- do you really not know this? Isn’t the correct way to lift weights Household Chores 101?”

“Oh, right, I know.” Midoriya rearranged his stance in a way that was less likely to earn him a slipped disk within the next two hours. “Do people really lift things like this though? It’s… a lot harder than the normal way.”

“For your legs, yes. For your back, no. You’ll thank me when you’ll be old enough to realize you aren’t made out of rubber.”

Toshinori munched slowly while he watched the kid carry his first loads to the truck. That act alone seemed to distract Midoriya to an amusing degree, his gaze often flicking to meet Toshinori’s eyes for just a moment before shooting back in front of him with blatant self-consciousness. Toshinori allowed the boy a few minutes of warm-up, just the time for him to finish his sandwich and sip a small cup of apple juice, before deciding to kick things into proper gear.

“Running from the truck to the heaps and vice versa would help you gain some endurance too, rather than leisurely strolling back and forth.” Toshinori commented as Midoriya walked past him. 

The kid stopped in his tracks and regarded him with a mix of horror and aversion that vaguely reminded him of death-row inmates when faced with their executioners.

“What?” Toshinori went on, unperturbed. “Are you expecting to get fit without getting tired?”

“No, of course not-”

“Besides, you’ll need to keep a swift pace if you want to clear the whole beach before the admission exam.”

“Wha- All of it?! Before the…” Midoriya sputtered, arms wrapping more tightly around the broken chair he was holding as if that was supporting him instead of the other way around. “Y-You never said…”

“But of course! They don’t do things by half measures in U.A., so why should you?” Toshinori grinned. “Plus Ultra, am I right?” 

Midoriya let out an incredulous chuckle. “You’re kidding, right? There’s no way I can do something like that...”

“Depends on how much elbow grease you’re willing to put into it.”

Midoriya’s expression shifted minutely as he caught onto Toshinori’s seriousness. “But… but that’s impossible! No matter how hard I work, I can’t- I can’t move stuff like that!” He griped, pointing at the wrecked husk of a van half-buried under a mound of assorted refuse. “Even if I do my best-”

“And pray tell, what’s your best?” Toshinori stood up and walked to the kid, ditching the whimsical demeanor. If playful cajoling wasn’t enough to stir him, maybe it was time to bust out the big guns. “What’s the heaviest you can lift? The fastest you can run? The hardest you can push yourself? When’s the last time you actually tried your very best, and how did it fall short?”

Toshinori was already well and truly spent for the day, but he let the provocation and drive in his words stoke the fire within him, and it flared. The Symbol of Peace broke out of his diminutive shell among dramatic wisps of steam, ready to bestow his wisdom more effectively than his rickety counterpart ever could.

“Do you know what’s the only way to gauge your limits? Reaching them. And the only way to get stronger?“ Toshinori held out his arm between them, and clenched his fist resolutely. He relished the sensation of unyielding muscles tensing and bulging under his skin, tangible proof of the truth of his assertions. “Gritting your teeth and smashing past them! Little by little, but constantly!”

Midoriya had only witnessed that transformation once, poorly and by accident, and it showed. The chair had slipped from his hands without him even noticing, and now lay forgotten at his feet on the bare sand. The kid was gawking at him with wide eyes and mouth agape, the very picture of spellbound rapture. It was far from an unfamiliar reaction from whoever was graced by the Symbol of Peace’s presence, and yet it was still flattering, every time.

“You’ll never improve if you keep dwelling on what you think you can do now. Focus on what you want to do next. Visualize it as a clear goal. Build an image out of it, and then carve it in reality. If you really want that van to move, then it will move. If you really want this beach to be clear, then it will be. But you have to put your back, sweat and heart into making it happen!”

All Might captivated his one-man audience with the usual effortlessness, boisterous showmanship and honest positivity deeply intertwined in a way that boggled his detractors’ minds, but that felt so natural and appropriate to Toshinori. He’d made an art out of it, down to the rumble of his voice and the firmness of his gestures and the levity of his attitude, the art of highlighting and displaying the very best parts of himself so that they could resonate louder, better, brighter.

“So what will it be, young Midoriya? Will you clean up this place within the next ten months or not?”

“Y-Yes. I will.” That had done the trick. It was obvious from the way Midoriya’s back straightened and his expression toughened. It was obvious from the spark kindled in his eyes, a reflection of Toshinori’s own passion, still lacking in heat but full of potential.

“Then you’d better get down to it!” The hero sealed the deal with a radiant smile and a thumbs up. “Time’s a-wastin’!”

“Yes, sir!” Midoriya picked up the chair and dashed towards the truck to unload it there, then he immediately bounced back down the stairs and towards the nearest heap of waste. Toshinori observed the boy’s next rounds with his unwavering smile and few approving nods that kept the kid a bit lighter on his feet.

How much easier it was for All Might to touch people’s hearts. How much easier to inspire, to reassure, to nurture. How much easier everything was for All Might, really. If only that shining beacon of hope wasn’t shackled by the whims of a withering body, how much richer society at large would be for it. 

Toshinori let out a deep exhale that took more than just air out of him, and the flame settled down to a low glow. He couldn’t hold back a few wet coughs, and he promptly turned his shrunken back on Midoriya’s concerned glance to sit back on the cool steps.

Unfortunately, there was a lot more than motivation to strength training. Right off the bat, Toshinori could tell that Midoriya wasn’t going to last twenty full minutes of workout. He honestly didn’t know that an ostensibly healthy individual could reach the ripe age of fourteen with such poor body awareness. The boy had coordination and balance on par with a toddler’s: he stumbled on his feet, he tripped on sand, he nearly fell off the stairs twice before realizing that trying to climb them while his view was obstructed by the very items he was carrying might be a less than optimal solution. He seemed to be unaware of the existence of entire muscle groups, and Toshinori had to physically get up and mime movements for him to understand how to exert force more efficiently. Not to mention that he needed incessant needling lest his sprints quickly devolved into lax jogs. 

This whole training thing was going to be… an interesting experience, Toshinori could already tell.

Exactly sixteen and a half minutes later, the boy all but collapsed on the stairs beside Toshinori, gasping for air and wiping his forehead on his sleeve.

“B-Break?” He pleaded, quite redundantly. 

Toshinori took pity on his plight and pushed the cooler in his direction. “Have a drink.”

“Oh, thank you…” The lack of polite refusal made Toshinori suspect that Midoriya had forgotten to bring his own water. 

“There’s sports drinks and fruit juice in there too. Save the snacks for after you’re finished, food and heavy workouts don’t always agree with each other.” Toshinori had packed food primarily for himself, expecting their after-school meeting to last long enough for him to slot in one or two meals in the meantime, but he had taken care of adding a few extras for the kid. A good idea, because the possibility of Midoriya face planting on the ground halfway through out of sheer exhaustion seemed more and more likely by the minute.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to…”

“I promised bribes, didn’t I?” 

Midoriya flashed him the tiniest smile, and eagerly drank some water while Toshinori retrieved a small journal and a pen from the other bag. He skimmed through the list of preliminary topics he’d scribbled on the first page under Tsukauchi’s advice, wondering which one he should tackle first.

“All right.” Deciding to follow his instinct in spite of basic common sense, Toshinori decided to begin from the end. “These phone calls of yours. Give me an idea of what they’re like. The last one you had with your father was on April 1st, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me about it. Everything you talked about, as precisely as you can remember it.”

The good thing was that Midoriya’s memory was very accurate, and he was able to recall the whole conversation basically step by step. The less good thing was that said conversation was largely commonplace and unremarkable, consisting of very ordinary small talk and inquiries about school, grades, news, local events-

“Quirks?”

“Mh-hm.” The boy nodded. “We always end up talking about quirks, in one way or another. Quirks and heroes. It’s always been… a common interest.”

“Always, uh?”

“Yeah, we’ve been doing it since… forever, really. I’ve always found quirks fascinating, and he has lots of great insight to offer.”

“I can imagine...” Toshinori mumbled. Asking who had initiated that habit was probably pointless, it sounded like it had started too early in the boy’s life for him to remember - or even to understand if he had been deliberately led to develop that interest. Some intriguing nature-versus-nurture speculations could be made on the matter, but they weren’t likely to aid Tsukauchi’s case. “And in what way do you talk about them?”

“We… analyze them, discuss them. What is known for sure about a certain quirk, what can be deduced from footage and descriptions of its use, what its unmentioned limitations might be, how it could be further developed… You saw my notebook, right? Basically the kind of stuff that’s in there.”

“Wait.” Toshinori blinked. Could he have already stumbled into a treasure trove of All For One-certified information? “You mean that all that’s written in that notebook was dictated by your father?”

The kid almost choked on his next gulp of water, and shot Toshinori an almost offended look. “No! No, no, it’s all stuff I found out on my own! Well, almost all of it, there are some additions of his here and there, but… Uh, I’d say at least 90% of it is mine, and 10% of it is his… Actually, more like 95% and 5%-”

Well, that sounded less promising, but it was still a lead. “So he’s been basically teaching you how to conduct your own quirk analyses?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say teaching. I wish our school teachers were that engaging...” Midoriya let out a small sigh. “But I guess we do go about it a little like with school essays. Research, deadline, discussion and all that…”

“Pardon?”

“Well, every month we decide which heroes or quirks we’re going to talk about the next time - back in March we chose Hawks, Kido and Snatch for last month’s call, for example. During the rest of the month we gather information and draw our conclusions, and then we compare them during the next chat.”

“You’ve got quite the well-oiled routine going on there, haven’t you?”

“Actually, I think it’s just to give me a chance to make my own deductions with a clear head instead of on the fly.” Midoriya scratched said tousled head in embarrassment. “I bet he doesn’t even need to do any research, he’s always on the top of his game. I’ve never been able to, uh… one-up him, you know? He always knows what I’m driving at, and somehow he always brings my hypotheses two or three steps further than where I stop.”

Toshinori answered with a non-committal hum. No surprise there, the man was a living quirk storeroom complete with its own self-congratulatory, sentient database. “You don’t seem too bothered by it though.”

“Oh, I’m not. It’s not like he’s ever… disappointed or angry or anything, even if I don’t get stuff. He just enjoys chatting, I guess.” That he surely did, Toshinori grimly thought. Way too much. “And I do too. It’s kind of like a game. Or a challenge.”

“A challenge?”

“Yeah, uh… How can I explain…?” The boy drummed his fingers on the bottle as he collected his thoughts. “Okay, for example: one of the first things dad asked me about Hawks was what shape his wings are, and what I could deduce from that about his flight capabilities. Which was a trick question! I knew it as soon as I heard it, because I’d already figured out the real answer during my research.”

“Ah.” Toshinori blinked. “And… how is that a trick question, exactly?”

“Because Hawks doesn’t actually fly! Not like a bird, at least, so his wing shape doesn’t matter!” Midoriya beamed, and suddenly Toshinori realized that that was the first real, genuine, enthusiastic smile the boy had given him since they’d met. And, without exaggeration, not crying, panicking or grimacing made him look almost like an entirely different person. “He simply can’t! Humans can’t fly even if you stick a pair of wings to them, they’re just too heavy! Other heroes who can fly properly are mostly transformers, like Ryukyu - their whole bodies change when they shift, bone structure and all - but Hawks’ body is entirely human if you exclude his wings.”

Midoriya reached for his backpack and drew out the same charred notebook Toshinori had signed days earlier. An item so vital to the kid’s daily life that he always had it with him, apparently, even more essential than beverages during a workout session. A peculiar, if questionable, trait.

“What Hawks actually does isn’t flying, it’s levitating!” The kid held the notebook open before Toshinori’s eyes on a spread page dedicated to the hero in question. “He uses the second facet of his quirk, the telekinesis that allows him to control his feathers singularly! That also explains his incredible speed, which is completely unjustifiable if you only take into account normal bird flight aerodynamics. His propulsion is powered by his feathers - and each of them is quite speedy and powerful on its own, so it stands to reason that he would be lightning-fast when his wings contain so many of them pushing him in unison!”

Toshinori politely elected to wait for the onslaught of words to subside on its own, although he already suspected that it was a little like standing right under a waterfall and waiting for someone higher up to turn off the faucet.

“That said, that doesn’t explain everything about his quirk… For example, a single feather of his is capable of lifting and transporting an adult person, that has been extensively documented. Yet, he loses the ability to levitate relatively soon after dispatching too many of them - he becomes unable to float even when he still has at least several dozens of them attached to his body. We couldn’t figure out why that happens with the information we have. Maybe it’s harder for him to apply his power to himself, that is often the case for emitters. Maybe it messes with his proprioception, and he can’t control the feathers he hasn’t detached as finely as all the others…”

If there was one thing Toshinori was absolutely certain of at this point, it was that the kid wasn’t short on breath any more. “And this is the part you inferred on your own.”

“Yep! And dad agreed with all of it!” Midoriya’s smile grew even wider. It was astonishing how much it didn’t look like dad’s deranged, shark-like, nightmare-inducing sneer, and Toshinori could only send a quiet thanks to the heavens for that. “This is all guesswork though. Do you… by any chance, do you know if we were on the right track? I’d be really curious to know…”

“Ah, I can’t help you there, kid.” Toshinori felt suddenly on the spot. “I’m not acquainted with Hawks, nor do I know more about his quirk than the average person.”

“Oh, I thought… Since you’re both- I mean, I thought All Might may have met him during the billboard chart events, what with them both being in the top ten.”

“We passed by each other, yes, but we were never properly introduced. He wasn’t particularly interested in rubbing elbows with the old guard, I suppose.”

“Oh. Well, that’s his loss, for sure.” Midoriya, funnily enough, pouted. “Pity, I was wondering… Even if he doesn’t fly, he does flap his wings in a way that resembles a bird’s. I wonder if that’s intentional, to mislead opponents and prevent them from figuring out how he actually moves. Or maybe he does it subconsciously…”

“I’m afraid I really don’t know…” Toshinori had never met Hawks on the field either, it wasn’t common for accidents to require more than a single big-name hero to intervene these days. Especially if one of them was the number one, who often showed up first and invariably solved any incident in mere minutes-

Toshinori suddenly came back to himself and almost facepalmed in frustration. Why was he letting himself be interrogated about completely irrelevant hero trivia? He was the one asking questions! God, he was bad at this. “And your father had nothing to contribute about all this?”

“Not about this specifically, but he did raise a point I hadn’t considered.” Midoriya looked up at the sky, once again lost in his very wordy, very deep lucubrations. “Hawks has an astonishing control on his quirk. He can use his telekinesis to move hundreds of feathers at once, to sense his surroundings, he can even harden them and turn them into weapons. He made Fierce Wings into an incredibly versatile ability, and he’s so young too… And yet, there’s no record of him attending any hero school or training facility in Japan, nor abroad. He claims to be self-taught, but… admittedly, it is hard to believe. One would think he must have had some excellent education and tutoring to make it into the top ten when he was only eighteen…”

Toshinori didn’t reply. Midoriya looked back at him when the silence stretched, and whatever he spied on Toshinori’s face made him immediately backpedal. “I-I mean, it’s odd, but, uh… not suspicious per se, nor a sign of anything… weird or bad about him. There are many heroes who, ehr, prefer to keep their personal history private, especially geniuses, and that’s fine! They have all the right to! Same goes for their quirks, it makes total sense-”

Toshinori massaged his left temple slowly. Right, better just nip this topic in the bud before it got irredeemably out of hand. 

He peered again at the notebook in Midoriya’s hands. So All For One had been imparting occasional, amicable quirk analysis lessons to the kid for a good decade, which sounded suspiciously like the kind of knowledge a potential underling or successor might use. On the other hand, Toshinori could think of a million other ways for the Symbol of Fear to instil skills in his son - all of them remarkably more efficient, safe, manageable and ruthless. The whole thing was contradictory in a way that didn’t sit right with Toshinori.

“Mind if I take another look at that?” Toshinori had been in a bit of a rush the first time round, and he’d only taken a cursory glance at the contents of Midoriya’s notes. But if there was a chance of those pages containing words uttered by All For One himself, a more thorough examination was in order.

“Not at all! But, uh…” Midoriya was fast to hand out the item, but his eagerness to assist was even faster to dampen. “Are you going to retain this as evidence too?”

“Mh, I don’t think that will be necessary...” Right, the poor kid’s house had probably been ransacked even further after Toshinori and Tsukauchi’s first pass. No wonder he was worried about losing this prized possession too. “But if it will be, I can make a copy of it for you to keep, so you won’t lose all your, uh, data.”

“Oh, thanks! That would be great!” The kid perked up instantly. He was so easy to please. “Although… I guess I should make a copy of it myself anyway. It’s already kind of… unrecoverable. I could detach the pages with All Might’s sign and preserve those separately, and just photocopy everything else…”

Toshinori’s imagination mercilessly supplied him with the picture of a new addition to Midoriya’s bedroom decor, his five-second poorly-made signature hung to a wall in an elegant frame. He repressed a groan, deliberately neglected to point out that he could simply provide as many new authentic signs as needed, and directed his attention back to the scorched edges of the notebook. “Right… What happened to this thing, anyway? Did someone put it in a toaster?”

Midoriya let out a totally not nervous chuckle as he wrung his hands in a totally not nervous fashion. “Oh, uhm... You know…” Toshinori didn’t, actually, but the kid didn’t elaborate either. 

Well, he was allowed to have a modicum of privacy, still. Toshinori let the issue drop, and nudged the boy with his foot. “You seem well rested. Back to the trash you go.”

Midoriya shuffled to his feet less than enthusiastically, and resumed toiling away at his task. While still checking on him often, ready to poke and prod at the first hint of sluggishness, Toshinori browsed through the kid’s notebook. While the contents were indeed worthy of attention, they were scarce in quantity. It must be rather new, since less than a quarter of the pages had been filled. However, the promise of more material to be discovered made Toshinori withhold his judgement on the matter for the time being.

Once that was done, he continued his perusal of the few files Tsukauchi had already put together about the Midoriya case. Toshinori had practically begged his friend to let him have an active role, any active role in the case: he simply couldn’t bear to twiddle his thumbs until someone else kindly pointed him to All For One’s hideout for another overdue thrashing. He simply needed to be involved, or he’d probably start crawling up walls within a week.

Questioning the kid was pretty much the only suitable occupation for him, currently… Well, it was either that or questioning Mrs. Midoriya, and Toshinori was fairly sure that his brain would leak out of his ears if he heard any more details about All For One’s romantic escapades. He wasn’t exactly an expert when it came to investigative work, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he was going to spare no effort to earn some results. If that meant poring over reams of police reports in the hopes of spotting some helpful clue, so be it. At least it would keep him busy, and busy was good, especially in trying times.

He’d applied the same logic to Midoriya, in a sense. The boy seemed the kind of person who’d very easily overthink himself into a negative spiral, even in less dire circumstances than the messy family drama he’d found himself into. It would do him good to focus on a better future, rather than on his depressing present. Giving him a goal to set his sights on would keep him going more smoothly. 

At first Toshinori had thought to motivate him towards his dream career, but it turned out that the boy’s strategy about the admission test was… nebulous at best. Not that he could truly blame him for it: fourteen-year-old Toshinori didn’t exactly have a multi-step plan towards becoming the Symbol of Peace either, one couldn’t help being somewhat scatterbrained at that age. 

The illegal dumping site had been a serendipitous discovery, and cleaning it up was the perfect type of goal to incite the boy towards. It was very obvious and straightforward, and required no intricate planning: he simply needed to roll up his sleeves and buckle down. And the muscle he’d build while doing it would serve him well for heroic purposes too, so it was a win-win on all fronts. Not to mention that some good old physical exertion would help him sleep at night, which he was still struggling with, if the persistent bags under his eyes were of any indication. Toshinori dearly missed the times when that trick still worked on him too, when driving himself to the brink of exhaustion was a guaranteed one-way ticket to restful and regenerative dreamland. Nowadays, if he accumulated even a sliver of excessive fatigue, all he got was… well, fatigue. And a metric ton of unrelenting body pains and lasting debilitation.

The rest of the afternoon went by smoothly and unremarkably. Midoriya drudged through many rounds of garbage disposal with decreasing energy and verve, but that was to be expected. Toshinori collected more barely relevant and generally useless information, but that was to be expected too. They were both in for the long haul, there was no point in getting upset about it. Eventually the sun started to set, and Toshinori beckoned the boy back to him with a handwave.

“You have more of these?” Toshinori said, tapping his index on the big 13 on the cover of the notebook still on his lap.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Could you bring them with you next time?”

“All of them?” Midoriya seemed frazzled. 

“If you still have them, yes. Would that be a problem?”

The boy scratched his head as his cheek reddened slightly. “N-No, not a problem, but some of them are really… I finished the first one when I was seven. They aren't just outdated, they’re… ehr, childish. Just doodles and misspelled ramblings.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not like I’ll be grading them.” Not yet, at least. Toshinori smirked at his own private joke. Maybe he should grade them, as a small practice run. “I just want to give a quick read to a few things here and there.”

“O-Okay…”

“Good. Well, I think we can call it a day.” Toshinori rummaged in his cooler to fetch a chocolate energy bar, and tossed it to the exhausted boy. “Catch.”

Despite the warning, Midoriya did not catch, and the snack bumped against his chest and fell to the ground with a sad clack. Reflexes were MIA too, apparently. What a rare specimen of a prospective hero Toshinori had crossed paths with.

“T-Thank you!” Midoriya immediately picked it up, unwrapped it and shoved it into his mouth as he hopped into the passenger seat of the truck. Whether it was real hunger or fear of passing as rude, Toshinori couldn’t tell.

The drive to Midoriya’s house was brief. The boy was too tired to chat - as if they hadn’t already had their fill for the day. When they arrived and Midoriya climbed out of the vehicle to be on his way, Toshinori finally addressed one last pressing issue.

“Tomorrow your father is going to call you.”

“Yeah.” The kid’s eyes dropped to the ground. Maybe Toshinori should have brought it up sooner. Way to end the meeting on a sour note.

“How are you going to handle that?”

“I’m not.” The boy shrugged. “Mom will tell him I just got my tonsils removed. It's… safer for now. I think.”

Toshinori nodded. “Let’s take a day off then. Even if you can’t speak, he might want to say something to you, and it would be strange for you not to be at home while recovering.”

“Okay.”

He looked so very small, and so very young like that, bathed in the warm hues of sunset, but with no real warmth to his eyes and demeanor. He was too small and too young to be dealing with this shit. No one was old or big enough to deal with any of All For One’s shit, really. Toshinori would have to make sure no one would have to ever again.

“Thank you for your help today. It’s very appreciated, believe me.” Toshinori offered, with his most sincere smile. “Feel free to text me or Tsukauchi if anything comes up, you should be able to reach at least one of us at any hour of day or night.”

“Okay. Thank you. Have a good evening.”

“You too, kid.” Toshinori watched him until the door of his house closed behind his back, then he drove off.

[agentamethystelf]

Cool as a cucumber (or not)

Peggysous week day 7: Free day

Summary/ notes: Peggy was stressed. Daniel was also stressed. Neither of them thought the other was stressed; they both thought that their partner would be as cool as a cucumber and that their own panic was irrational.

Or, Peggy and Daniel head off on their first date

The final day of Peggysous week! This is something that's been floating around in my wips for a while, so here's Peggy getting ready for her and Daniel's first date (featuring Howard being Howard (which in this fic means a sex joke I guess).

Also published here on AO3

Peggy was stressed. Daniel was also stressed. Neither of them thought the other was stressed; they both thought that their partner would be as cool as a cucumber and that their own panic was irrational. After Isodyne and zero matter, crazed starlets and newly freed Russian assassins, they both deserved a little downtime and a night out together.

"Miss Carter!"

Peggy's face broke into a wide grin as Mrs Jarvis rushed, as fast as she could after her injury, into her bedroom. "Hello Mrs Jarvis."

"Oh, it is wonderful that you've decided to stay longer!" She grasped Peggy for a brief yet strong hug, her eyes narrowing as she let go. "I sense that you are in need of a fashion advisor. Tell me what you require and I will assist you."

Peggy laughed, running a hand over the back of the armchair sat in front of her vanity. "Yes, well, I'm heading out to dinner tonight with a..."

"Mr Sousa, of course." Mrs Jarvis nodded, giggling as Peggy's face crumpled in confusion. "Oh my dear, the only people who didn't know were the two of you yourselves!"

Peggy groaned, smiling ruefully. "It couldn't possibly have been that obvious!"

"I assure you, it was. Now come with me. I have the perfect dress for you." Gesturing for her to follow, Ana led her out of the room and down the hall.

"Mrs Jarvis, where on earth are you taking me?"

Looking back at her companion, Ana smiled smugly. "First of all, my name is Ana. We are friends and so you shall use it."

"Okay, Ana, then I insist that you call me Peggy."

"It would be my pleasure. Second of all, I acquired a lovely dress sometime last year that does not really work with my figure. It has never been worn, such a shame because it is a beautiful colour, but I believe it would suit you perfectly."

"How can you be sure it will fit me?" Peggy questioned as she was led into a spare room.

"I can't," Ana shot over her shoulder as she opened a wardrobe and withdrew a garment bag. "But as you know I am quite adept with a needle and thread, so I am sure I could alter it if necessary."

With a bit of wiggling, Ana worked the dress out of the bag, before twirling it around for Peggy to see. "Of course, if you don't like it you can decline."

Peggy was already spellbound. The dress was a deep blue with a fitted bodice and cut out sections along the short sleeves. The skirt was fuller than other garments she owned, giving it a beautiful, but not too overdramatic, volume when it spun.

Ana handed it over to Peggy, who took it off her with a small smile. She went behind the privacy screen to quickly change into it. The dress fit surprisingly well, although a few areas did need altering.

Peggy emerged and Ana clapped her hands together, letting a small squeal out. "Oh, you look gorgeous! I can already imagine Mr Sousa's face when he sees you in it."

"Are you sure I can have this Ana?" Peggy asked, smoothing down a wrinkle in the fabric. "After everything you've done, I would hate to start encroaching on your wardrobe as well."

"Nonsense," Ana countered, searching for and finding a sewing kit nearby. "It is a gift! For.... saving Los Angeles and quite possibly the world."

Peggy laughed as Ana got to work, pinning and marking a few places around the bodice and where it joined the skirt. "When do you need to be ready by?"

"Daniel said he would be here between 6 and half past," Peggy answered, removing the dress when Ana motioned for her to.

"Oh, we'll have plenty of time to spare then," Ana reassured.

Nodding happily, Peggy excused herself to touch up her makeup and retrieve some accessories. She felt like she was walking on a cloud, a surprising giddiness taking over her heart. 6 o'clock couldn't come fast enough.

It didn't.

Peggy found herself pacing the living room, glancing at the clock every couple of seconds. She had donned the dress a half hour ago, along with a pair of silver earrings and a necklace to match. A pair of low heels sat waiting by the front door for her alongside a handbag for the night. Although she would never admit it to anyone else, she had spent a moment or two spinning in the dress, admiring the way it puffed out and then settled back down with a satisfying swish.

A low whistle broke her from her thoughts and she turned to see Howard leaning on the doorframe in a robe.

"Oh for heaven's sake Howard!" she cried. "I'm wondering if you even own clothes at this point."

"Hey, my house my rules Peg," Howard answered, looking her up and down. "You look real nice, by the way."

Peggy smiled genuinely, still feeling like she should continue pacing, however. " Thank you, I appreciate it."

"No problem. Sousa's gonna agree with me, I'm sure."

As if on cue, there was a hesitant knock on the front door. Peggy laughed out loud as she watched Mr Jarvis sprint past the living room to open the door.

"Mr Sousa!" she heard him say. "Lovely to see you again. I will fetch Miss Carter right away."

Mr Jarvis rounded the corner to the living room. "Mr Sousa has arrived."

"Yes I noticed," Peggy answered, still laughing a little.

"Be back by ten kid, no funny business." Howard pointed a stern finger at Peggy, putting on his best concerned father face.

She rolled her eyes fondly. "Of course dad, there's nothing to worry about."

Daniel was engaging in polite conversation with Mrs Jarvis when Peggy turned the corner into the entryway. He looked like he was about to laugh at something she said, but then his eyes landed on Peggy and he stalled completely.

"Hello Daniel," she said.

"Hey Peg." Daniel cleared his throat, gaze still glued to Peggy. "You, uh, you look beautiful."

"You don't look half bad yourself." Peggy grinned at him and Daniel was suddenly glad for the crutch to support him as his remaining leg seemed to turn to jelly.

Daniel usual Hawaiian shirt had been swapped out for a plainer one, paired with the same jacket he'd worn the day of the Isodyne explosion. His tie, however, was a far too perfect match to her dress for it to be a coincidence.

Peggy quickly glanced at Ana, who just smiled innocently.

Ana clapped her hands together, looking between the two of them. "Well, we shouldn't keep you any longer! Have a lovely night you two."

She shooed the pair out of the door and shut it firmly behind them. Peggy looked to Daniel, only to find him staring back through the window of Stark's villa.

"Did you leave something inside?" she asked.

Daniel actually blushed a little when he turned back to face her. "No, well yes, but uh-" Words failing him, he pointed back through the window to a bouquet of flowers sat next to the door, the sight warped by the frosted glass. "I brought flowers."

To her surprise, she found herself beaming back at him. "Thank you, Daniel, they look lovely. Now, unless you'd prefer to have our date on Howard's front porch, I suggest we get a move on."

They'd made it only halfway down the drive before Daniel realised something was wrong. "Peggy, I believe we have an audience."

He subtly jerked his head back towards the house, raising his eyebrows as he did. Peggy over her shoulder, finding Howard and both Mr and Mrs Jarvis watching them as they walked away. A sly smile crept onto her face as she formulated a plan.

"Well, why don't we give them something to watch?"

Daniel caught on to her plan when she stopped in her tracks and turned to face him. Peggy pulled him closer to her, wrapping her arms around him, and into a passionate kiss a minute later. Together, they sank into that fire for a moment, letting it consume them both.

Until the distinct sound of a window slamming open echoed from the house.

"If you guys ever need condoms you know where to find me!"

"Mr Stark!"

"I'm just offering my services Jarvis. Being a good friend, right Peg?"

Peggy just ignored him, instead slipping her arm around Daniel's. It was then that she noticed the deeper flush that coloured his cheeks once again. She leaned in to press a swift kiss to his cheek.

"Let's go, before Howard decides we need more relationship advice."

[thetirisfaltheatretroupe]

Big Troupe Announcements! Big Troupe Summer!

Hello, everyone! Lord Atos Sunhart here! For those of you who aren’t aware, Fehl had stepped down last year from Troupe related duties due to her own life becoming much more demanding, and so I returned to the director’s seat once again. I’ve been back for about a year, but we’ve kind of laid a little low since my return due to a lot of restructuring and our desire to try a few new ideas out that are coming along slowly but surely!

We have some awesome projects in the works, some of which won’t be ready for some time, and some that we’re excited to bring you much sooner! But we can’t QUITE open the curtains for a peek just yet. Before anything, I’d like to make a series of announcements about some of our projects this Summer, starting with the most important one of all:

The Troupe Is Casting! 

Looking at some of the last posts made on this ye olde tumblr I guess it’s not a surprise that the troupe is indeed casting once more. In the past, it was due to not really having enough active people to pull off a large show with, but now, times have changed a bit, and we’re looking for people to make our shows even better and more frequent than ever!

What we’re looking for;

* Any race/gender/faction! Yes, we hire Alliance as well! In the era of Discord and cross faction RP, there’s no reason we have not to. Though, we are overloaded on elves at the moment and would kinda love a tauren or any Alliance character

* Obviously the character should be a good fit for the group! We’re not really looking for a serial murderer warlock who tries to sacrifice our members to the great Murloc Gods at the first chance they get. We’re not too picky here, but there are some characters that just don’t work terribly well with our concept.

* Available to take part in events during most of our performing days, which tend to be weekends, starting around 6:00 PM server. We base all our event times on server time.

* Someone who, behind the character, is friendly, patient, and above all else, mature. The clear rule of “don’t be an asshole” applies in this guild (and I’ll explain what that means below), and we have a zero drama tolerance policy. We are all adults who pay a monthly subscription to a greedy corporation to play with their toys, I think the last thing we want is to relive middle school in our 20s and 30s.

* Someone with a desire to help make memorable, exciting events for others to enjoy. While we play the part of celebrities, and being in the spotlight is a lot of fun, ultimately we want someone who, behind the character at least, does it for the enjoyment of others and not for personal gain or clout. We’re not clout chasers. We are proud of how long we’ve been performing and how hard we work, but ultimately we do this for our audience’s enjoyment.

* Communication is important! We aren’t a hardcore raiding guild, and thus we won’t be upset if you tell us you have to miss a rehearsal night or have a family emergency.. But if you know ahead of time, we really want someone who will let us know they can’t make it to an event so we can plan around it.

Furthermore, it should be said that while we normally do not require a person leave their guild to join us, this time around we’re looking for more to wear the guild tag above their heads, at least for this recruitment effort. Above all of these, the most important key point is the ‘don’t be an asshole’ policy. In the past I didn’t think it needed to be explained, but things we’ve been through in recent months compels me to explain what I mean by this; no homophobic behavior, racist behavior, transphobic behavior, harassment, pedophilia and other such illegal and morally vile behavior will be tolerated in our guild, period. But I’m sure you’re asking, what’s in it for me? Well, the benefits of working with the Tirisfal Theatre Troupe are, but not limited to;

* Being part of a near decade-old (8 years this October) guild that through thick and thin has stood the test of time!

* Working alongside some extremely talented, fun, humorous, and creative minds!

* Getting to make people smile and be a positive part of the community! 

* Taco Tuesdays. This is a lie, don’t believe me.

* Helping an already fun concept become even better as we grow and adapt to the ever changing nature of this game and its community!

* Adding “Actor/Actress” to your long series of titles in your TRP Profile. Maybe somewhere between “Lord of the Dance” and “Wrecker of your Shit”! Don’t be bashful, we know you have it in there somewhere.

So if you’re interested in being a part of the stage and bringing the uniqueness that is YOU into our ranks, please send an in-game mail to Atos on Wyrmrest Accord server (Hordeside), or show up for the open auditions at the dates, times, and location listed below;

Thursday, June 3rd 6:00 - 8:30 PM Portrait Room - Legion Dalaran

Friday, June 4th 6:00 - 8:30 PM Portrait Room - Legion Dalaran

Saturday, June 5th 6:00 - 8:30 PM Portrait Room - Legion Dalaran

We hope to see you there! And remember, because we’ve had this happen a few times; if you think you aren’t good enough, you’re probably actually amazing and far more talented than you think! 

Anniversary Bash 2021 Officially Planned! With a Twist

Those of you who have followed us for some time are likely aware of our annual celebration we hold on the anniversary of our first major public performance! This has traditionally been held on the third Friday of every October, so that it lines up perfectly with Hallow’s End starting. While we have had on-off years, and even said in the past we would never do it again (Insert I was crazy that time meme here), it’s pretty clear that at least every other year we seem to take to it again with new ideas. Honestly, we LOVE these yearly parties, despite how much stress they put us under, and we’re going to announce it earlier this year just so people know; yes, yes there WILL be a bash this year!

Things are going to be a little different this year, though. This October will actually have 5 Fridays in it due to...well...the calendar! It conspires against us, dammit! Because the third Friday falls in place before the Hallow’s End events are set to start, we will instead be bumping it up one week to the 22nd. So, there you have it! Our Big Bash will be on the 22nd of October! We’ll be making a full announcement about it later this Summer, and honestly, I think folks are going to really like the fun we have planned for it. So if this is something you’re looking forward to early, or you just like making sure your calendar events are always filled out, please make a mark for

October 22nd, 2021! 

Hellsqueal Squeals Again, Plus Winter’s Veil In July?

This Summer we’ll be getting back to our roots and bringing Hellsqueal back for another round. The Trilogy will rise again, and you won’t want to miss it! This time we’ll be performing it for our audiences on both sides of the factional fence and making some revisions to the script, but long time fans needn’t worry! Hellscream is still the same boisterous buffoon he’s always been.

Also, we’re bringing you an interesting new concept no one has EVER thought of before! ...well, okay, that’s a lie, but Greatfather Winter needn’t send me a lump of coal in my in-game mailbox for that one! The TTT will be hosting a Winter’s Veil themed party IN JULY! Don your gaudy sweaters, get ready to meet Greatfather Winter, take part in a sled race, and get ready to watch a completely out of season showing of It’s A Wonderful Unlife! Some lucky attendees may even receive a gift! The date for this and for Hellsqueal’s trilogy are yet to be announced, but they will be unveiled very soon!

Even though we never left, it feels good to be back at full strength again and pushing hard to give everyone the quality entertainment we pride ourselves on! Keep an eye out for our announcements this Summer - we’ll be hitting not only Tumblr when an event is ready to go, but the Blizzard forums and various Discord community servers! So please, have a fantastic day, week, month, even a year! 

[pretty-little-howtown]

Girl Next Door

Genre: Smut

Summary: You had just moved into a new appartement and made friends with your neighbour. (An AU were Ben didn’t die)

Word Count: 1,739

Warnings: Smut, female reader oh and did I mention, smut.

“Hey Klaus,” Ben suddenly shot up “you hear that?” he could hear clanging, banging and the occasional groan from outside his apartment door.

“Oh, that’s our new neighbour, I saw the moving van outside. There are a couple of people trying to get a sofa in I think,” Klaus realised nonchalantly. “Maybe we should help them, it’ll get you outta the house come on Ben.”

Ben sighed as Klaus dragged him to the door.

“Ow!” you yelled dropping the box of kitchen alliances just short of you new apartment’s doors.

“You need any help?”

You looked up to where the voice came from. A man dressed in a black feather rimmed coat a white cropped t-shirt and loose-fitting jeans. You blinked a few times as you realise these were probably your neighbours.

“I’m so sorry, to have disturbed you,” you panicked.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it, here let me help.” This time the voice came from behind the curiously dressed man. Another man stepped out in front of him. Black jeans and a black hoodie donning his figure. He picked up the box and pointed towards the door asking you to open it.

You unlocked the door and stepped inside holding it open for the two men. Before he hooded man could ask you answered, “by the kite hen counter should be fine. Thank you for helping,” you smiled.

Ben lived the smile. He could stare at it all day. He could stare at you all day. You were beautiful. “Oh yeah no problem, do you need anything else?”

The three of you made multiple trips from the moving van to the Appartement. You and hoodie did most of the lifting while feather coat talked your ears off.

Soon everything was in the apartment and you invited the two of them over for a thank-you tea. “I never caught your guys’ names.”

Feathered coat answered, “oh we’re so sorry I’m Klaus and this is my brother Ben. We live next door.” Ben gave you a small wave and a smile.

“Ah I managed to figure that last part out,” you laughed a little. “Either way it’s nice to meet both of you.”

The three of your ate and drank well into the night and just before mind night you let the two of them out and got ready for bed.

“So Ben, she was nice,” Klaus mentioned.

“Whatever you’re suggesting don’t. I’m not using your advice. Not since it blew up in my face the last time.”

“Come on Ben you gotta our yourself out there.”

“No Klaus, we barely know her. It would be creepy.” Ben replied.

A solid couple of months went by and you Ben and Klaus got closer and closer. Your trio hung out more and you all became really good friends.

Tonight you invited them round for drinks. You got home and took out a couple of bottles of whatever alcohol was left in your house. You opened a bottle for each of you, basked in its fruity scent and turned your head to the opening door. Ben and Klaus had let themselves. Klaus greeted you with a hug. You laughed as Klaus threw himself on your sofa. You passed him his bottle and then Ben his.

Ben gulped as you bend down slightly, passing Klaus his drink. You dress rode up a little higher As he willed himself not to look. When you turned around Ben only just realised how low cut it was and how perfect your boobs looked. He took a step back finally meeting your eyes and taking the bottle from your hand.

You noticed Ben’s blush as your fingers grazed his while passing him the bottle. You could help but think he looked really cute with pink dusted cheeks. You lead him a chair next to Klaus while you took the opposite one.

Klaus was the first to speak up, “you absolutely fabulous in that red dress, we’re you planning on going anywhere?” he gave Ben a wink. Ben replies with a glare.

“I did go somewhere. I escaped from a terrible date,” you laughed, “god he was so dull. That’s the lasts time I’m ever letting my friends set me up with a date.”

“What happened tell us more,” Klaus was already hooked on the gossip.

“Well it started out nice he super respectful he opened the car door for me. Then we got to a super fancy restaurant-“

Klaus interrupted you, “was it that Italian one down the street?”

“Yes, it was exactly that one!” You exclaimed. “We sat down ordered but he started going off on a tangent about rocks! It was so boring!” At this point, Ben tuned out of the conversation and was instead focusing on the laces panties sticking out under your dress.

While still in the conversation you noticed Ben getting redder and sneakily shifted yourself so he could see more. “So Ben, have you been on any dates recently? I can’t be the only one who's had a terrible experience in the past couple days.” You saw Ben gulp down the lump in his throat his lips dry as Klaus laughed at your comment. You bit your lip leaning closer to Ben’s side of the room, waiting for his response.

Ben could feel his jeans tightening and all eyes were on him. He tried awkwardly covering his crotch with his bottle before he spoke. “No, actually I haven’t been on one in a while. I’m quite happy single right now.” He smiled awkwardly.

“Are you sure?” You smirked. “I could always get my friend to set you up with someone.” The room once again descended into laughter.

Ben excused himself to go to the toilet.

He really did need to go but it was so difficult to do with a hard-on. He stood there trying until it became too painful. He sighed and started zipping his trousers back up as images of you flashed through his head. He thought of taking out his dick and getting himself off into your toilet but he couldn’t do that. It was wrong. Uncomfortable he went back into your living room, excusing himself after a few short minutes saying he had classes in the morning. You stood up gave him a hug and whispered in his ear, “see you soon.” He could feel your hot breath against his neck and his jeans got a little bit tighter.

The next day you barged into your neighbours Appartement shouting, “Klaus where are you I really need my skirt back!” You paused one the living room and saw Ben walking around butt naked. You gasped and Ben turned around. Flustered he grabbed a pillow off the couch and covered his penis with it. You looked Ben up and down and took in his figure. You could feel yourself getting more aroused. You took a step forward.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry let me put something on!” Ben exclaimed running away but you're caught his wrist.

You ran your hand up his arm and asked, “when does Klaus get back?”

Ben gulped feeling himself get harder, “he’s not usually back until the evenings.”

“Perfect.” You slid down to your knees and removed the pillow from in front of Ben. You took his half-hard member into your hands, “look at you, you're already hard for me.” You licked the tip of his penis and listened to his small whimper.

You felt yourself getting wetter in your panties as you licked a stripe up his dick. “It’s okay baby you can be as loud as you want.” You said as you took him into your mouth. You bobbed you’re head up and down taking his whole length as he moaned.

“I - I want-“ Ben whimpered.

“What is it baby, what do you want? Use your words.” You continued stroking his cock.

“I- ahh. I want my cock inside your pussy.” He moaned out the last part and you rubbed circles on the head of his cock.

“Is that so? I guess I could let you but it depends if whether you’ve been a good boy doesn’t it?” Ben nods whimpering at your words. “Why don’t we move to your room. I’ve got a couple of questions for you to see how good of a boy you’ve been.”

Ben nods eagerly and goes to his bedroom and sits on the bed. You close the door behind his and start taking your clothes off. “So baby boy. Why did you run out so fast yesterday? Was I making you hard?”

Ben nodded and you took his throbbing cock in your hand once again.

“Good boy, now tell me did go home and jack yourself off thinking about me in the red dress? Use your words baby.”

“Y-yes I did.” He hesitated as you pumped his member.

“Anything else?”

“I-“ he started blushing and whining. You suddenly took your hand off.

“I asked you a question. Anything else?”

“I- wanted to cum in your toilet. I wanted your push around my cock so bad.” Ben whimpered.

“Thank you for being so honest baby. I’ll give you your reward.” You lined his dick up with your entrance and sank down onto him earning a loud moan. You bounced up and down swirling your hips eliciting loud moans from him. You yourself let out a few.

“Your such a good boy. Well done y- you're doing so well baby.”

“Can I cum? Please I wanna cum.” Ben whined.

“Go ahead a baby cum all your want.” Ben thrust inside you and soon you could feel him fill up your pussy. You kept grinding down on his dick.

“Ahh please wait I’m so sensitive right now.” He whined.

“Do you want to stop or do you want to help mummy get off?”

“I want to help mummy get off.” He whined as you ground down onto his cock. Which every whine you got closer and closer. With one last thrust, you came.

“Good boy”, you said riding out your high. “Well done. Do you like tour reward?” Ben nodded and you got off him, his cum dripping down your thighs.

You got up off the bed and held out your hand to Ben. “Come on let's get you cleaned up. Would you like a nice bubble bath?” Ben nodded and you took him into the bathroom.

[maknaesdancersrappers]

Devoted 2

part 8

Overall warning/s: kinkier smut (eg. voyeurism, exhibition, etc.) character death, dark themes

Just how devoted is Jaehyun to you?

prev: Part 7

wc: 4.7k (i know it’s short, but an update is an update 🥺)

“Excuse me, but what is your right to hold my future godchild before me?” Doyoung scoffs, pointedly glaring at Kun, who began to laugh at him. “[Y/N]! How could you?!”

You shake your head and shrugged your shoulders, chuckling to yourself, “I didn’t ask Kun, Jaehyun did. Pick a fight with him, not me. Besides, Kun’s a doctor, not a banker.”

Kun nods, “I’m the obstetrician. Sorry, Doyoung.”

He huffed angrily cutting into the steak he ordered.

The three of you finally found a similar time slot to catch up with each other; spending an early dinner together at a restaurant Doyoung swears by. You were halfway through the main course when Kun teased Doyoung about being able to see and hold your kids before him which inevitably annoyed the latter. You had invited Jaehyun to join, but he told you he didn’t want to intrude as this was a mini reunion between high school friends.

“Oh,” You spoke up, halting their bickering, “I hope you two will be free in a month or so, we’re planning a housewarming party as soon as we move into the new house.”

“As long as it’s on a Sunday.” Doyoung says in between bites, covering his mouth with a fist.

You move your attention to Kun, who offers you an unsure smile.

“Hopefully, I’ll be free. But it’s a little busy in the hospital. I barely go home, to be honest. But don’t worry, I’ll do my best to go.”

“I understand if you really can’t.” You insisted, “But I hope you can.”

Doyoung hums, taking a swig of wine. “So in the end, only [Y/N] is getting married among the three of us.”

Kun takes offense to this, “Why are you implying that I don’t have plans at all? I’m just too busy as of the moment. I’m sure I’ll meet someone in the future. Are you still asexual?”

He narrowed his eyes at him, “Don’t make it sound like it’s a phase, Qian. I can’t help that I don’t feel sexual attraction to anyone.”

“But you had sex with that one girl.”

You gasped, almost spilling your iced tea. You leaned over, hissing at your best friend, “You had what?!”

Doyoung glares at Kun before sighing, “It was a one night stand. She’s a friend of a colleague I met at a birthday party. I’m not specifically attracted to her, but I’m not going to deny my body sexual gratification.”

“Okay, but why did you tell Kun before me?” You were very appalled by this new knowledge, but it bothered you more that he didn’t tell you first.

“I didn’t plan to! We ran into her when we met a bar and this guy,” He gestures to Kun with visible annoyance, “just ‘knew’ we had a past.”

“Seemed like she wanted a round two.” Kun teases and you narrow your eyes at Doyoung.

“Did you go for round two.”

The man in question raises his brows and looks away, choosing to take a lengthy sip of his drink.

“Oh, he did.” You and Kun said in unison, giving each other a knowing look.

“It’s purely physical.” Doyoung defends, practically slamming his wine glass on the table, “Besides, she doesn’t have time for a relationship. She’s a divorce attorney.”

You reached out and put a hand over his wrist, “We’re just teasing, Dons. Do whatever you want. You’re an adult; just, you know, be careful.”

“I am, don’t worry. The last thing I need is to get someone I don’t even love pregnant.” He dismisses the topic, “Speaking of, have the two of you decided on names? More importantly, will you name one after me?”

Retracting your hand away from him, you laugh at his question, “Sorry, Dons, but I don’t think we plan on naming one after you.”

He fakes a hurt expression, “Well, I hope you don’t name them something ridiculous.”

“He wants a daughter named after me, that’s for sure.” You swirl the contents of your glass around, “I was thinking of the same if we had a son, maybe Woojae or something, but I don’t want to dwell on it yet. I have other things to think about.”

The night crawls on; Doyoung pays for the meal and the three of you continue to lounge at the restaurant to finish your respective desserts. It feels nostalgic to be with them; you didn’t think it would ever happen since Kun left for China all of a sudden with no proper goodbye or explanation why. It’s surreal to see both of them matured into men when — what felt like yesterday — they were just scrawny teenage boys. Doyoung had gotten rid of his lisp and got lasik surgery. Kun was more eloquent now with words and confident with himself. You didn’t think you were going to miss being with them until tonight.

“Crap,” Doyoung grumbles after receiving a message, “I have to go. There’s been a hack in our system.”

“Oh, no. Will everything be alright?” You watched him grab his jacket he had draped on the back of the chair and shrug it on.

He nods, although unsurely, “We have amazing computer technicians in the company; I’m sure they’ve handled it well. I just need to make sure everything is okay at the office. I’m sorry about this.”

“Take care, Doyoung, and don’t apologize. It’s not your fault, hopefully everything’s okay.” Kun glances at you, “I should be heading back as well. I have an early morning.”

“Will Mr. Kyung pick you up?” Doyoung asks while pushing his chair back.

You stood up and slung your purse over your shoulder, “No, I was going to call for a cab.”

“Let me drive you home.” Kun offers and Doyoung insists you do so you agreed.

You and Kun see him off before heading over to Kun’s car and you input your address into his GPS; it was only a 10 minute drive even with the traffic. The journey started quietly, almost a little awkward.

“[Y/N].” He clears his throat and you glanced at him, “You know, I’m really glad that you’re happy; that you found someone to care for you.”

“Thanks, Kun…” Something felt a little off with his tone.

“I… had no control of what happened to us back in high school. I was scared when I left; we ended things on a bad note and—”

“Kun, it’s fine. The past is past; why are you telling me this? If you didn’t have control over it, then you don’t have to apologize for anything.” You had to admit there was a little venom in the way you spoke, but Kun didn’t seem to flinch at your tone.

“The past is past…” He repeated, “You’re just going to let things go because it was in the past?”

You frowned at him, not understanding what he wanted to say.

“[Y/N], there’s something you need to know; about why my family suddenly flew back to China.”

“Why? Why do I have to know? You make it sound like it’s my fault.” You honestly didn’t want to talk about this. “And you make it sound like it was a bad thing! You said there were better opportunities for your parents back in China.”

He groans, clearly frustrated, “Yes, they did. Their salary back there couldn’t compare to what they made here.”

“Why can’t we leave it at that? It was all perfect timing back then.”

“It wasn’t perfect timing, [Y/N].” His jaw is clenched, hissing the words out through gritted teeth. “There’s more to it than you think.”

You scoffed, “Okay, fine, so what? It doesn’t change the fact that your parents hated me.”

“My parents—” He swallows, trying to get his bearings, and speaks in a softer tone, “My parents never hated you, [Y/N]. They loved you; especially my dad. He was fond of you because you reminded him of my grandfather.”

“Then why the sudden hostility? Why did they try and stop us from seeing each other? The sudden curfew, the phone bans?”

“My grades dropped a letter and they just wanted me to focus in school! You know I was on scholarship so they were strict about my grades. It was never about separating us!”

“Then that night!” You cried, voice echoing in the small vehicle, “Your mother looked me in the eyes and said these exact words; ‘I don’t want you to date my son.’ Explain that!”

Kun takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. The glaring red brake lights of the cars in front seemed to make the mood worse as he looks at you pensively. “They didn’t want to do that, [Y/N].”

“Kun, please.” You rolled your eyes, “Your parents made it very clear—”

“Will you just listen to me for a sec? Qīn—”

“Shut up!” You screeched, panicking at the nickname you haven’t heard in years. “You don’t have the right to call me that.”

He shakes his head, distraught at the car honking behind him, and he starts to drive again, “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to call you that. It just came out—”

“Pull over.” You heaved; it felt like you can’t breathe, the air was too heavy, and the interior made you feel claustrophobic. “Pull over!” You don’t even recognize your voice as you screamed again.

Kun pulls over at the next opening and you unbuckle your belt, “[Y/N], I’m sorry. I swear, I didn’t mean to upset you… [Y/N], I’m just trying to protect you.”

A curt laugh bubbles from your chest, “From what? If this was about our relationship years ago, you could have protected me then! You’re years too late, Kun.”

Your words cut through him; hurt evident in his eyes as he hopelessly stares back at you.

“And I hate depending on him but,” You sniffed, “I have Jaehyun now. He can protect me and you don’t even know how safe I am with him. So if I’m in danger, I know Jaehyun will do anything in his power to protect me.”

His face doesn’t give anymore emotions as he unlocks the door and you start to leave until he speaks up again, “From who.”

You look back at him, confused.

Kun doesn’t meet your gaze, just staring forward, “I’m not protecting you from something. I’m protecting you from someone. Or at least I tried to.”

“Thanks, but…” You paused, seeing the slightest movement from his brows, “Jaehyun can handle it.”

He doesn’t say anything else and you get out of his car, waiting for him to pull back into the traffic and watch him drive away. You looked around, you were just a block away from your apartment so you began to walk towards it.

You’re willing yourself not to dwell on what happened in the car ride, but you couldn’t help repeating Kun’s voice when he accidentally called you by the pet name he used for you. You don’t know why you reacted that way when you heard it again. It gave you an overwhelming sense of nostalgia, but the way he said it bothered you; he sounded desperate. 

You arrive home and the second you step inside, you lock the door and cautiously peered through the peephole. There was no one there and you didn’t feel like anyone was following you, so why did you even check? 

Tea, you think. Tea will help you calm your nerves. As you scurry off into the kitchen after removing your shoes, tossing your purse onto the counter, you stare at the kettle.

Qin

Tea won’t make you forget.

Jaehyun came home at 9PM, tugging off the knot of his tie loose and debating on calling out for you; unsure if you’re busy or asleep. He was about to make a bee-line towards the bedroom to check on you, but skids to a stop when he notices your body slumped over the coffee table. His blood ran cold, dropping his things onto the ground and running towards you.

The thud of his items jolts you awake, whipping your head to the source of the sound and gasping in fear when your blurry vision sees a dark mass coming at you with arms raised forward. You try to move away, but your drunken limbs wouldn’t cooperate. You hear your name in a panic tone and you visibly relax when you recognize Jaehyun’s voice; your vision finally focusing on his worried expression as he knelt in front of you.

It was only then did Jaehyun realize the empty vodka bottle by the table and the shot glass laying on its side by your legs. He looks back at you, “What’s wrong?”

You threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and using his scent to calm yourself down. You felt like crying, but tears won’t come out.

“Hey,” He ran his hand over your back repeatedly and kissed the side of your head, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m here. It’s alright.”

That was all you needed to hear; the anxiety left your mind and the jitters stopped. Whatever Kun was talking about, you didn’t have to worry about it as long as you were with Jaehyun.

He feels your body relax and he pulls away a bit to see you passed out. He sighs, pulling you back close to him and kissing your forehead, rocking your bodies to a silent rhythm. He doesn’t know what’s wrong, but he’s not going to wait for you to wake up and tell him about it. Once Jaehyun carried you to the bed and gingerly stripped your clothes off, he took off your makeup and tossed the wipes into the trash bin. He pulls the sheets up to your chin and gives you one last kiss on the cheek before retrieving his phone from where he dropped it earlier.

He presses a number on the speed dial and walks to the window, peering down at the night life of the city.

“Sir.”

“What happened before she got home?”

“Everything seems good so far. Kyungwon mentioned how the pull-out kotatsu is working well?” You look around the empty space of Yuta’s apartment, already visualizing how to design and decorate it.

Yuta casually nods, “Yes, I’m quite impressed by her design, really. It’s quite convenient for the heater to turn on automatically after a certain length.”

“The tatami mats will be delivered tomorrow morning and installation will be done by the end of the week. Regarding the bathtub—”

“The ofuro.” He interjects and you repeat after him.

“The ofuro, yes, there’s a delay in shipping it. The company said it might take another week.”

Yuta shrugs, “If it can’t be helped. I don’t mind the wait.”

You look over the apartment once more, “Well, aside from that, after everything that needs to be installed is in place, we can begin putting furniture and decorating it the way you like it.”

The sun is setting outside and Yuta’s apartment has an amazing view of it; you check your watch for the time and hope you won’t get caught in the rush hour.

“Great!” He cheers, “Finally, a place I can call home. Although, I’ll miss room service.”

This makes you laugh, “Can’t cook?”

“I can if I have to, but I don’t have the time or luxury to do so with all the work I have. I’ve already hired the hotel chef to come by every other day to make something for me, you know, something I can easily reheat or throw all together.” He pauses, “Does Jaehyun cook? Or do you?”

“We both do. We take turns. But we have days when we live off on take-outs and deliveries.”

Yuta’s phone rings and he fishes it out of his pocket, lightheartedly scoffing before glancing at you. “Speak of the devil. Hello— hey, calm down man.”

You watch his expression grow concerned and confused as he looks at you.

“She’s here and she’s fine. I don’t know. I haven’t seen her take out her phone the whole time.”

Your phone? You spin around and dashed to your handbag on the counter, dissecting it for the said item but found it to be missing. You wonder out loud about its whereabouts, wracking your brain to remember where you last used it.

“[Y/N].” Yuta calls out to you and you turn to see him hand his phone out to you.

You take it from him, putting it over your ear, “Jaehyun?”

“Are you okay? Where’s your phone?”

“I— I don’t know. I must have misplaced it.” You licked your lips. He sounds so frantic. “I probably left it at the house by accident. I dropped by earlier since they started with remodeling and I remember using it last there.”

“Okay… okay. I’ll go look for it. Can you give the phone back to Yuta?”

“Jaehyun, what’s happening?”

“I’ll tell you later. I need you to go home right now.”

You hand the phone back to Yuta and with the look on your face, he puts the call on loudspeaker.

“Jaehyun?” He clears his throat.

“Yuta, I need you to take [Y/N] home. Please.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll take her now…” You move back to where your bag is, zipping it back up to get ready to leave. “Is everything okay? I know it’s not exactly my business, but I’d like to know why I have to escort her home.”

The line was silent for a moment; eerie enough for you to peek over your shoulder just before Jaehyun finally replies.

“There was a threat made against her, Yuta. I don’t want to take chances.”

Your blood ran cold. Was this from the person Kun warned you about? But that can’t be, right? This person should have been from years ago. Did they find you again because of your engagement with Jaehyun?

You felt a hand on your shoulder and you gasped, backing away so quickly, you hit your hip on the edge of the counter. You winced in pain, but brought back to your senses and looked up at Yuta with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you. You’re obviously distraught.” He says, taking a step back.

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m okay. Let’s just go.”

The walk from the apartment, to the elevator, and to Yuta’s car was tense. For you, at least. Yuta kept it cool; walking casually. On the other hand, you followed closely behind him, trying to inconspicuously check your surroundings for shady characters. When you got to his car, he opened the door for you and you quickly got in.

“Relax, [Y/N]. It can very well be just a prank.”

You give it a thought. He has a point. But the fact Kun told you he wanted to protect you from someone a couple of days ago rang at the back of your mind. Maybe you should have told Jaehyun what happened; why you suddenly decided to get drunk in the middle of the week. He didn’t press you for a reason, probably chalking up to it as stress from work.

“Unless,” Yuta interrupts your train of thought, “Jaehyun has enemies? Or you have some stalker?”

“—I don’t!” You vehemently denied, choking on your own spit. You cover it up with a nervous chuckle, “I mean, who would take interest in me?”

“Jaehyun took interest in you.” Yuta hums, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “But in our business, we’re bound to make enemies without even knowing it.”

“You think Jaehyun pissed someone off?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, focusing on driving for a few minutes and checking the rear view mirror. “There’s a lot of greedy men out there, [Y/N]. Plenty of them are petty, too.”

It was completely dark out by the time you reached your apartment. When he escorted you all the way up to your room, you asked him to stay until Jaehyun returned. He seemed to hesitate, but relented once he noticed just how scared you were.

“Would you like anything to drink? Tea? Coffee?” Your eyes shift to the wine cooler, “Vodka?”

Yuta looks at you incredulously, “I don’t think this is the right time to drink alcohol, [Y/N]. If anything, I think I should be preparing you some tea.”

“No, no, I’ll make it myself. Please, make yourself comfortable.” You grabbed the kettle and filled it up with water. “What kind would you like?”

“Hmm? Anything is fine.”

His voice sounded like he wasn’t seated at the counter nor the living room. Once you turned the stove on, you walked out into the hallway to find him looking at the photos on the wall. It almost freaked you out, until you saw him smiling at the photos — almost innocently at them.

He realizes your presence and stutters out an apology. “Sorry, I just really admire your relationship. It makes me wish I had someone to protect and care for. You must feel pretty lucky to have someone like him… someone who’d go out of their way to protect you.”

“There’s no one more I’d trust my life with.” You chuckled, showing off your engagement ring. “I just wish he’d—”

You stopped yourself, hoping he didn’t catch it, but he curiously peeks at you over his shoulder and you inwardly curse yourself as you try to rephrase what you were about to say.

“He’s just…” There’s no way to sugarcoat what you wanted to say. “He’s overprotective. And I appreciate it, I really do. It’s just… he doesn’t have to go out of his way to do so.”

Yuta laughs, “He’s a billionaire, [Y/N], what exactly does ‘out of his way’ mean?”

“I mean, he doesn’t have to overdo it.” You sighed, realizing a split second later that he could interpret your words wrongly. You open your mouth to correct yourself, but he beats you to it.

“Overdo it?” He repeats, “Like…”

The kettle begins to whistle and you quickly excuse yourself to prepare the tea. When you turn the stove off, you hear the front door open and Jaehyun’s voice calling out to both you and Yuta. You hear Yuta greet him and tell him that you’re preparing tea just as you round the corner and almost collide face first into Jaehyun’s chest.

“[Y/N]!” He grabs your shoulders and hugs you.

“Jaehyun, what’s happening?” You pushed him away, feeling a little shy since Yuta was there.

He lets out a heavy breath, “I received a note while I was at the office. It questioned your safety.”

“What does that mean? What did the note say exactly?”

“Is she safe?” Jaehyun clears his throat, “And it had a picture of you, Doyoung, and Kun from that night you three met up for dinner.”

Your fingers began to shake uncontrollably, Kun’s warning flooding back into your mind. “...From who?”

The look of regret on your fiance’s face tells you he hasn’t found out yet who sent the photo, “I don’t know. The note was slipped into the receptionist desk somehow.”

“Mina doesn’t remember where it came from or who handed it to her?’

“Mina hasn’t come into work for two days now. The temporary secretary there is overwhelmed with the work that piled up for her, so I can’t blame her if she doesn’t remember who or where the note came from.”

“Security cameras?” Yuta pipes up, but Jaehyun shakes his head. “I was told my people have already installed it.”

“The cameras were set up, but there was a system error on our end. There’s no footage.”

You walk off towards the windows and cross your arms, overwhelmed with the urge to vomit. Jaehyun calls for you and you shrugged your shoulders, “Maybe it’s just a prank? That’s possible, right?”

“Yes, it is.” Jaehyun pauses, slowly nodding his head, “But I don’t want to take chances, [Y/N], not when it concerns you.”

“Would you have any idea who would be behind this, Jaehyun?”

He looks at Yuta and frowns, “Not a single clue.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth; you should tell him about what Kun told you.

“Jaehyun, [Y/N], if you need anything, I’ll gladly help. I can have my team set up surveillance cameras here — free of charge. You can even have the feed be sent straight to your phones.”

“My phone.” You gasped, remembering it was missing. Before you could panic, Jaehyun fishes it out of his pocket and holds it out to you.

“It was at the house.”

Checking the notifications, there were nearly a hundred missed calls from both him and Doyoung. You peer up at him while calling Doyoung. “You told Doyoung?”

“Of course. I thought he would know something.”

“[Y/N]?! Where the fuck—”

“I’m fine! I’m safe! I just left my phone at the house this morning and didn’t notice! I’m sorry for making you worry.” You continue to calm your best friend down, promising to be careful and such. By the time you are done with the call, Yuta announces he should head back to his hotel.

“I should get going. Take care, you two.”

You walk back to them, “Oh, please stay for dinner. As a thanks for bringing me back home and even waiting for Jaehyun with me.”

He smiles, “Maybe some other day? I’m expecting a conference call with my family later and I wouldn’t want you guys to hear a bunch of angry Japanese.”

“Oh,” You purse your lips, “Okay. Some other day then?

“Yuta, thank you again for bringing her home and waiting with her. It really put my mind at ease to know she’s not alone.” Jaehyun puts an arm around you and you lean into him.

“Don’t mention it, Jaehyun, so tell me if I could be of any help, I’ll gladly do so.”

You both see Yuta off, waiting for him to enter the elevator and waving one last time before closing the door and locking it for the night. You turn to Jaehyun, who immediately reacts to your touch.

“Don’t worry,” He whispers, “You’ll be okay, baby. I’ll take care of it.”

“I know. I know you will.” You tug at his arms and he leans down to kiss you, letting your lips mold against each other. When he pulls away, you lick your lips, “I’m going to make tea. Would you like some?”

“I’m good. I’ll finish up some work. Get some sleep after, okay? I’ll be with you as soon as I’m done.”

You watch him walk off towards his home office and you make your way back to the stove to reheat the kettle. Your eye catches the photo Yuta was looking at; it was your graduation photo with him, both of you dressed in the dark gown and proudly clutching onto your diplomas, but had noticeably harder grips on each other. Everything seemed simpler back then with nothing to worry about other than school, rent, and what to eat daily. 

Why didn’t you tell him about what Kun told you?

No, why couldn’t you tell him?

You look back to where he disappeared into; now determined to solve this on your own.

Inside his home office, Jaehyun carefully closes the blinds of the little window on the door and pulls out the note he had received earlier.

He didn’t want to lie to you. Especially not about something like this. It still involved you, however the safety being compromised wasn’t just yours.

He opens the crumpled note back up, rereading the 3 words over and over again. His gaze moves to the photo it came with. It really was of you, Doyoung, and Kun. 

It just wasn’t from a couple days ago; nor was it a couple of weeks either. Anyone could tell with one look how far back it was. You were standing in a music store, watching Doyoung pick an album from the stand in front of you, beside you stood Kun, just barely recognizable and the only telltale sign was the beauty mark on his brow. What stood out the most was that all three of you wore your high school uniforms.

Jaehyun crumples it up, angrily closing his fist around the photo. He brings the note back up and clicks his tongue.

Does she know?

a/n: an update since quarantine sucks. this chapter is a lot shorter only because i’m still not in right headspace to write, but i’ve been working on something devoted-related (not a fic or anything written) and it’s getting me back into writing again. 

next: part 9

~ buy me a peach? but why?

[angelofthequeers]

One Brain Cell Between Three People

 Rating: T

Summary: Or: five times these disaster humans had to disguise themselves and the one time they didn't.

Slot: 2.5k+ fic.

Written for an anonymous donor for the @mlbforblm drive, with all profits going right to Color of Change! I hope you love these disasters! The response to the drive was absolutely overwhelming, and I’m touched to have been commissioned for it!

AO3 link

1. From an akuma

“So, Ladybug!” Chat Noir says brightly. “If you’ve got any brilliant plans to get us up to Sauron out there, I’m sure we’d love to hear them!”

Ryuuko doesn’t have a clue who Sauron is, nor how it relates to the massive tentacled monster with one gigantic red eye that’s resting on the tip of the Eiffel Tower. They’ve tried coming from all angles, but the akuma’s eye seems to have a full three-hundred-and-sixty-degree field of vision, because it always sees them coming and bats them away as easily as swatting mosquitoes.

“Why do I have to come up with the plans?” Ladybug grumbles. Chat Noir’s cheeky grin widens.

“Because you’re the brains, milady, and I’m just the humble clown.”

“Your brain was working just fine against Miracle Queen!”

Ryuuko tunes out their banter as she peeks around the corner of the wall behind which they’re hiding. Her brain leaps from idea to idea like arcs of lightning, zapping each one to a crisp when she picks out the flaws, because all of them rely on not being seen and there’s no way to accomplish that against this akuma. It seems to have flawless superhero senses, because it always sees right past the terrified civilians to pick out the superheroes –

Wait…

“I have an idea,” Ryuuko announces. Her teammates’ banter immediately dissipates. “The akuma is ignoring anyone who isn’t directly working against it. It’s almost like it just wants to keep surveillance on everyone.”

“You could say it wants to keep an eye on people,” Chat Noir says cheerfully. Ladybug sighs and facepalms.

“Low-hanging fruit, kitty,” she mutters. Ryuuko just raises an eyebrow and waits for them to finish.

“If we want to get close, we need to not be what it’s looking for,” she says.

“Like sneaking into Le Grand Paris disguised as a pizza delivery person because that’s not what Chloé Bourgeois is expecting you to be even though she knows you’re trying to get back something she stole from you?” Ladybug says. Chat Noir blinks.

“That’s, uh…incredibly specific,” he says. “And I’m not sure I want to know why. You were saying, Ryuuko?”

Unlike Chat Noir, Ryuuko does want to know the context behind Ladybug’s very specific example, because it’s exactly the kind of thing that Marinette would do. The thought of her girlfriend brings a small smile to her lips, just as when she thinks about her boyfriend Adrien. It’s a pity they aren’t superheroes, to be honest; they’d be fantastic, but Ryuuko’s not in any position to make suggestions, so she keeps this to herself.

“Different,” Ryuuko finally manages to say. “We need to not look like superheroes.”

“Disguises!” Ladybug jumps from foot to foot. “I’m so good with disguises! I’ve snuck into the hotel! And a party everyone threw for the guy I liked who’s now my boyfriend since I wasn’t allowed in for being a girl –”

“Why, milady, if your boyfriend didn’t recognise you beneath your strong disguise, he can’t be that much of a keeper,” Chat Noir says.

“My boyfriend is very much a keeper, thank you very much!” Ladybug huffs. “He’s one of the smartest people I know! Apart from Ka – uh, my girl –”

“Akuma,” Ryuuko interjects. Ladybug and Chat Noir jump.

“Right! Akuma!” Ladybug unslings her yo-yo. “There was a costume store on the next street over! For disguises!”

Getting to the store takes far longer than it should, but since there’s a giant eye in the sky, Ryuuko’s sure they could be forgiven for having to be extra slow and cautious. Once Ladybug’s shut the doors behind them and dragged over a chair for good measure, the three of them get to work browsing the multitudes of costume clothing and accessories to find the best pieces to conceal their most obvious features.

“I wish all akumas could be this fun,” Chat Noir beams as he tries on a cowboy hat. “They’re all get out there, get the crap beat out of us, milady comes up with an amazing plan, we’re done. Not that I don’t love the times I get to see Ladybug, of course.”

“I know what you mean,” Ladybug says. Ryuuko slaps a hand over her mouth to smother her giggles at the sight of Ladybug, hero of Paris, wearing a massive blue feather boa and round glasses. “We’ve been doing this for so long that it’s become…monotonous, you know? The only real variety is my Charm.”

“Not the akumas?” Ryuuko says as she selects a long blonde wig, then shudders and replaces it after a moment. Too similar to Chloé Bourgeois. And while they might both be rich girls with mother issues, Ryuuko refuses to think of herself as anything like that spoilt brat, especially after the stunt she’d pulled as Miracle Queen.

Okay, so Ryuuko doesn’t actually remember that, and Chloé does apparently have some semblance of a heart, but still. Ryuuko’s not known for her forgiveness, especially with how much nastier Chloé’s been since that incident.

“Milady! Milady!” Chat Noir yanks out a ladybug-patterned onesie. “I could be you!”

Ladybug snorts. “In your dreams, kitty. You could never be me.”

“But I was once!” Chat Noir tilts his head like a curious kitten would. “Remember?”

“Yes, and you were just amazing at it,” Ladybug says dryly.

“You weren’t any better, Lady Noire!”

“Excuse me? I was perfect!”

“Explain the Cata – uh, power mess-up, then!”

“I still had to figure out the Luc – the Charm!”

“And I could’ve told you not to dust the sentimonster!”

Ryuuko just ignores their arguing this time. Maybe it’s better for them to get it out now, so that they’re focused when facing the akuma. She loses track of time as she sifts through the costumes, wondering why she’s even being so picky in the first place since it’s just to disguise herself from an akuma. Then again, Kagami Tsurugi would never be caught dead in a clown costume, even as Ryuuko. Maybe it’s a good thing to have more refined tastes.

“Hey, guys!” Ladybug says. Ryuuko turns to see Ladybug picking up a large box, having dumped its contents on the ground, and she grins and drops it over her head. “Look, I’m a bug in a box! The perfect disguise! He’ll never know it’s me under here!”

“Come on!” Marinette’s whisper is marred by giggles as she holds out boxes to Adrien and Kagami. “Let’s hide from your bodyguard in these! He’ll never know it’s us under here!”

In that moment – by the silliest way possible – Ryuuko suddenly knows. Now there’s a name to the face beneath the scarlet mask; the face with the bright blue eyes and freckles, framed by pigtails – pigtails! – and currently wearing the same silly smile that Ryuuko has seen a thousand times as Kagami and looks forward to seeing a thousand times more.

Oh, it’s too bad that she can’t tell Adrien that he’s dating Ladybug. His massive superhero crush on her is more obvious than the fact that there’s next to nothing in that pretty head of his. Actually, that’s not fair; Adrien is very smart, but he’s also one of the densest people that Kagami has ever met. Being with him is just like working with Chat Noir, who’s got a very sharp mind when it’s needed –

“Does this make me the Chat in the Hat?” Chat Noir says as he dons a top hat and Ladybug’s laughter grows louder.

– but is also far more of an idiot than anyone has the right to be. It’s a wonder that poor, bi Kagami didn’t trip over herself around Chat Noir like she did with Ladybug, considering how similar he is to Adrien –

Ryuuko freezes. No. No way. There’s no way all three of them could be that lucky; that Marinette and Adrien, Ladybug and Chat Noir, were pining for each other this whole time, that Ryuuko fell for the two people who happened to be the heroes of Paris, that there’s a reason why Chat Noir showed her so much care after she was Oni-Chan and why Ladybug was so sweet and understanding of her failures as both Kagami and Ryuuko –

“– something picked out, Ryuuko?” Ladybug’s – Marinette’s – voice pierces the fog that’s descended on Ryuuko and shrouded her thoughts with realisation after realisation as she combs through every memory of her interactions with them. “I mean, this has been really fun, but we probably should get back to doing actual superhero things.”

Ryuuko takes a deep breath to ground herself. She’s far better trained than this; she shouldn’t allow herself to be so distracted during a mission. “Yes, I’m ready,” she says and grabs the first armful of cloth and accessories that she can find. She can fall apart later. Right now, she has a job to do, and she’s not going to let her partners down.

2. From Paris

Kagami loves her boyfriend and girlfriend. She really does. But there are times where she wonders if being with them is worth the constant emotional turmoil that they always seem to put her through.

“The fattoush looks good,” says Adrien, who’s seated across from Kagami. The fact that he’s wearing a hideous straw brim hat and sunglasses so appalling that they would give his father an aneurysm on the spot is the source of Kagami’s current agony. “But I’m tempted to go for the kibbeh, just because Father would die if he knew that I was eating something fried.”

“Do it,” Marinette says immediately. Kagami’s pain is compounded by the fact that her girlfriend is wearing a pair of glasses with a large fake nose and moustache attached, along with a sickeningly horrible pink poncho. But then again, for a budding fashion designer to wear something so awful? Maybe she’s smarter than Kagami had first thought.

Of course she is, says a traitorous little voice in Kagami’s brain. She’s Marinette. She’s Ladybug. But even being Ladybug isn’t enough to save her from Kagami’s judgement. Why couldn’t Adrien and Marinette have just worn an oversized hoodie like she did?

Okay, so it’s Adrien’s oversized hoodie, and the smell of him envelops her like a warm hug whenever she ducks her face down beneath the collar, but still.

“Done,” Adrien says and slams his menu down. The couple at the next table over stare at him, but his disguise seems to work because they might think he’s a weirdo, but they don’t appear to think that he could be Adrien Agreste. “What about you, Gami?”

As always, Kagami’s insides flutter at Adrien’s use of his and Marinette’s nickname for her. She clears her throat and squints down at her menu, which may as well be written in English what with how nothing seems to compute in her brain, and she blurts out the first thing she sees. “Shish barak.”

Marinette wrinkles her nose. “Sure, if you’re into yoghurt.”

“Does that mean you’re gonna steal just my food?” Adrien complains. “Maybe I should order the shish barak too, so you leave my food alone.” He’s promptly shut down by Marinette giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“No, you’re getting the kibbeh,” she says.

“Yeah, I’m getting the kibbeh,” Adrien parrots robotically. Marinette smiles sweetly.

“And I’ll have the djaj mashwi,” she says, while Kagami ponders the merits of slamming her head on the table at the sheer display of Ladybug and Chat Noir energy from her two oblivious idiots. “I’m in the mood for chicken.”

Kagami pushes all thoughts of clobbering her partners’ heads together away as Adrien plays foot wrestling with her under the table and Marinette waves a waiter over to order. For now, she’s just going to enjoy this silly date in their silly disguises.

3. From Lila

She’s everywhere.

She’s hanging off Adrien on his way to fencing. She’s tangling their legs together when she crashes their study dates. She’s smothering the air around them with her cloying citrusy perfume as she laughs far too loudly at Adrien’s joke during a friends’ hangout.

And there’s nothing that Adrien can do about it. If he does one thing that even hints at defiance, Lila Rossi will go running straight back to tattle to his father like the venomous little muse she is. Even the fact that Adrien’s taken – by two people – has done nothing to dissuade her. If anything, she takes this as an open invitation.

“Oh, this kind of thing is very common in Italy!” Lila had crooned one day when Kagami had – very politely, in her opinion, since no swords were involved – asked her to please take her hands off Kagami’s and Marinette’s boyfriend, thank you very much. “It was so good to learn that Adrien had two girlfriends! There’s so much love in his heart…and so much room for more…”

It’s a sunny afternoon after school when Kagami finally snaps. Not at Lila; no, she knows very well what Gabriel would do in retaliation if his precious spy was hurt in any way. Rather, as soon as fencing is over and she’s changed out of her sweaty gear, she barges into the boys’ bathroom with her heavier-than-usual fencing bag.

“Kagami!” Adrien yelps and slaps his hands over his nipples. Kagami rolls her eyes.

“You don’t have breasts, Adrien,” she says with every ounce of patience that she’s had to curate since learning her partners’ secret identities. “And it’s nothing that Marinette and I haven’t seen before. Speaking of Marinette, hurry up and get dressed.”

“Why?” Adrien hurries to throw on his top, further confirming Kagami’s suspicion that he’s started changing after fencing as slowly as possible to put off the moment he has to leave and be accosted by Lila. “Is she hurt? Did Lila or Chloé throw her over the balcony or something?”

“Not yet,” Kagami mutters. She rummages in her fencing bag for Adrien’s oversized hoodie that she’s…ahem, delayed returning. Because she has definitely intended to return it. Eventually. Which is now. “She’s letting Lila…spout hot air? Is that the saying?”

“And you left them alone together?” Adrien snatches his hoodie and tries to yank it on so quickly that his head ends up caught in the sleeve with his arm. Sighing, Kagami helps him correct his mistake while trying as hard as possible not to let her fond smile at her boyfriend’s dorkiness slip through.

“Marinette can handle herself.” Kagami fishes out a pair of sunglasses and a green baseball cap. “It’s Lila I’d be worried about. In any case, she’s keeping Lila occupied, but there’s only so much threatening and bragging that Lila can do before she grows bored.”

“Then what’s –?”

“We’re sneaking you out. Come on.”

Kagami tugs Adrien over to one of the tiny windows in the bathroom. Then, in one smooth movement, she crouches and cups her hands for Adrien’s foot. Gritting her teeth and drawing on every bit of athletic strength she has, she propels Adrien up to the window and locks herself in place so that he can pop the latch and push the window open.

“Damn it!” Adrien curses when the locker room door opens. Kagami prays it’s not –

“Adrien?” Lila’s sickly-sweet voice echoes in the locker room. Thank goodness for bathroom doors, or she’d have caught them in a heartbeat. “Where are you? I didn’t see you walk out.”

With newfound fervour and a boost from Kagami, Adrien grabs the windowsill and propels himself upwards. He almost doesn’t fit – Kagami holds her breath when he ends up stuck halfway out and curses – but then he forces out a loud breath of air for just that little less abdominal width and manages to slide fully out the window. Kagami just has to assume that he’s fine and has no serious injuries from his landing, although being hurt would probably be preferable to him over dealing with Lila.

She gives it to the count of ten, then flushes a random toilet and washes her hands before pushing the bathroom door open. Lila immediately materialises in front of her.

“Kagami! Hi!” Lila says with a very fox-like smile. “I wasn’t expecting you to use the boys’ bathroom.”

Kagami shrugs. “After you called me a boy with boobs the other day, I figured it shouldn’t matter if I used the boys’ bathroom. There’s really no difference except for the urinals. And the stench. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Oh, I was only teasing.” Lila sounds like she was doing anything but. “Where’s Adrien? He’s usually finished changing by now.”

“I don’t know,” Kagami says with another shrug. “He’s not in the bathroom either, though. You can go and see for yourself.”

Before Lila can take up any more of her precious time, Kagami brushes past her and out of the locker room. As soon as the door swings shut behind her, she lets her giggle break free into her hand and pulls out her phone to check in with her accomplices – er, her partners. Now she truly understands the saying “being bad has never felt so good”.

4. From an akuma take 2

“I seriously want to know what goes through Hawkmoth’s mind half the time,” Misterbug complains. He deflects a burst of pink perfume with his yo-yo, then ducks so that Lady Noire can jab Princess Fragrance with her staff. “Like, remember the days we thought he was Mr Agreste? And then I realised ‘no, he can’t be, because Mr Agreste at least has some creativity!’”

Ryuuko isn’t sure whether she wants to pat Misterbug on the head in agreement or slap him to get his head back in the game. To be fair to Hawkmoth, Puppeteer had been one of his most powerful akumas with her ability to control someone if she has a doll or similar representation of them, so akumatising her for a third time isn’t too foolish of a move. And considering that Ladybug and Chat Noir merchandise is very widespread, the decision to swap their Miraculouses like with Reflekdoll had been inevitable. Ryuuko’s never been more grateful that she’s not considered a steady enough temporary hero to have merchandise made of her, so there’s no way for Puppeteer to control her.

If she’s honest, Ryuuko can’t really scold Misterbug for not fully focusing. Not when she has to spend a whole mission with her girlfriend in a tight black catsuit. And while Ryuuko is very much asexual, only a fool would deny the sheer beauty of Marinette Dupain-Cheng with a long braid and a suit sculpted to her body and an uncharacteristic smirk on her face that’s much more reminiscent of Chat Noir than Ladybug. If Ryuuko had even an iota of artistic skill, she’d spend hours just trying to capture Marinette’s beauty in all forms, starting with the feline goddess who’s just managed to trick Silencer and Jackady into hitting each other. Silencer immediately starts to cluck like a chicken, while Jackady frantically starts shuffling his cards, trying to make his power work without his voice.

“Heads up!” Tortue Verte’s shield whizzes over Lady Noire’s head and nails Darkblade right in the face. She whoops and punches the air. “Strike! I could so get used to this.”

“As hot as you look in my colours, babe,” says Foxtrot, using his flute to keep panther Animan’s jaws away from him while he’s sprawled on the road, “I kinda miss Rena. And using the shield. Never thought it’d suck to have merch of me.”

Knowing that Ladybug is Marinette, Ryuuko’s almost certain of the identities of Tortue Verte and Foxtrot, aka Rena Rouge and Carapace. But considering that they’re in the middle of a battle and there are several brainwashing akuma puppets, she buries that thought very deep down and instead focuses on deflecting one of Reverser’s paper planes with her sword. There’ll be time later to muse on secret identities, when they’re not in the heat of one of the most chaotic battles that Paris has ever seen.

5. From Gabriel

Death is far too good for Gabriel Agreste.

“Breaking up with Adrien is the last thing we’re going to do,” Kagami says as Marinette sobs hysterically into her chest on the soft pink chaise. The anger simmering beneath her skin is almost at boiling point, threatening to bubble over and explode out of her, and her crying girlfriend is the only thing keeping her grounded. One of them has to be on the lookout for akumas, and it’s most definitely not going to be Marinette in her current state.

“B-But you heard M-Mr Agreste,” Marinette chokes out. “He’ll p-pull Adrien from school. And – your m-mother – we’re j-just a d-distraction to you – he said she told him –”

“Rubbish.” Kagami runs her fingers through Marinette’s hair and presses a soft kiss to her head. So many years of being hard, of compartmentalising her irrelevant and distracting emotions to please her mother, to live up to the Tsurugi name, and then she’d met the boy and girl of her dreams and now she’s alive, and she feels so strongly, and no one is going to take this away from her. What is honour if it means turning her back on those who need her? On those she cares about?

“B-But –”

“No. Marinette, listen to me.” Kagami cups Marinette’s cheek and guides her face up. The sight of her girlfriend’s red-rimmed blue eyes is enough for the poisonous rage inside her to almost break free, but she forces it back down as though it’s a rabid animal on a leash. If Marinette gets akumatised, all is lost; not only because she’s Ladybug, but because she’s one of the kindest, sweetest, most amazing people that Kagami has ever had the fortune to meet. And if Kagami gets akumatised, the emotional toll of having to defeat and purify her will more than likely be too much for Marinette to bear after everything else that’s happened today.

“Kagami…?”

Kagami blinks and shakes her head to clear her tumultuous thoughts. Later. She can process her own emotions later. For now, Marinette needs her.

“I’ve never been more focused since meeting you and Adrien,” Kagami says. “And if Mother even tries to argue, I have a whole presentation prepared. I’m serious. I have it saved on my flash drive.”

Marinette lets out a weak giggle. Kagami basks in the glow of this laughter, as tiny as it is, because it’s tangible proof that, as awful as she can be interacting with other people, she’s improving. She knows enough to support one of the people dearest to her.

“Mother might not have been happy, but she didn’t try and interfere,” Kagami continues. “She said that so long as my focus did not waver, she would give me her tentative blessing. I suspect that Adrien’s father has spoken to her and persuaded her that you are a negative influence on me and Adrien. That will change once I talk to her.”

“And…Adrien?”

“We’ll work it out.” Kagami leans in and leaves a soft little kiss on the top of Marinette’s nose, and she’s rewarded with another watery yet musical giggle. “The only thing we’re not going to do is break up with him. That will crush him. We’re going to tell him exactly what his father said.”

“We can’t!” Marinette jerks back and almost topples backward off her chaise, if not for Kagami’s arms around her. “Mr Agreste will pull him out of school and he’ll never get to see his friends again and he’ll know it’s all my fault and he’ll be unhappy for the rest of his life and end up turning to evil and working with Hawkmoth and we’ll never marry him and have three kids – more if you want them but I want three and they’ll be Emma and Hugo and Louis – and a hamster called –”

“How do you even have enough breath to say all of that?” Kagami says, trying not to pass out just from following Marinette’s catastrophising ramblings. Marinette laughs rather hysterically.

“It’s a gift. But we can’t tell him! He’d refuse to break up and I’d be responsible for him losing everything!”

“Shouldn’t he have that choice?” Kagami says. “Everyone around him tries to control him. Adrien deserves to be able to make that choice. And this isn’t solely on your shoulders. We’re both dating him.”

“But…how do we talk to him?” Marinette whispers. Now she’s slumping against Kagami with fluttering eyes, as though she’d just participated in an extremely strenuous bout of fencing and is two minutes from passing out. Considering her anxiety-ridden ramblings from just before, she probably has exerted that much energy, just mentally rather than physically. “His father will never let him out. We’d have to stand at the front door, and he’d know as soon as we tried to talk to Adrien.”

“We default to our usual plan.” Kagami gently untangles herself from Marinette so that she can cross over to Marinette’s wardrobe and start rummaging inside. “Disguises.”

“But what good is that going to do?”

“Plausible deniability. Adrien’s bodyguard is a very firm ally, but even he can’t ignore direct orders. However, if he allowed Adrien out to talk to some friends instead of his girlfriends…”

“Of course!” Marinette breathes. Kagami is suddenly tackled from behind and is forced to throw her hands out and grab the sides of Marinette’s wardrobe to prevent herself from faceplanting. “Gami, you’re a genius! I love you, I love you, I love you!”

The poisonous anger that had been burning through Kagami’s body dissipates at Marinette’s words and gives way to soft warmth, like the sun is shining inside her. Once her legs are steady underneath her, she turns and wraps her arms around Marinette, who’s now trying to plaster every inch of her face with kisses.

“I had to bring something to this relationship, didn’t I?” Kagami says. “You and Adrien are far too chaotic to be left alone. Come on, help me pick out some disguises so we can go and talk to Adrien.”

+1

Kagami had never imagined that Hawkmoth’s defeat would go this way.

It was supposed to be glorious. A fantastic final battle full of clashing superpowers and pumping adrenaline.

But no. Adrien had caught a glimpse of Nooroo – Hawkmoth’s kwami – during a visit to his father’s office to confront Gabriel for his stunt regarding Marinette and Kagami and trying to break the three of them up. From there, it had been far too easy for Ladybug and Chat Noir to simply sneak in and steal the Butterfly Miraculous after Adrien had somehow slipped some sleeping pills into his father’s expensive whiskey.

(Or rather, Plagg had done that part, but Kagami’s not supposed to know about her boyfriend being Chat Noir, so she’s considerately refrained from pointing out the flaws in the “official” story).

Gabriel and Nathalie – aka Mayura – had been arrested the following day. In the wake of their arrests, Kagami had thought that Adrien would jump at the chance to be done with them and pretend they never existed. But her boyfriend had proven that, despite the years of emotional abuse he’d been forced to endure, he’s still got one of the biggest hearts that Kagami has ever seen.

“I love them,” Adrien had whispered into a midnight three-way cuddle, finally allowed to crack and break down after so much time fearing the consequences of emotional vulnerability. “After everything they did to Paris…to me…there’s a part of me that still…I don’t want to forgive them, but I don’t want to hate them. I just want them to…not be. You know?”

And that leads to now. Kagami, Alya, and Nino have been gathered in Adrien’s temporary suite in Le Grand Paris, where he’s been staying until his bodyguard can be awarded permanent custody since Emilie Agreste had been laid to rest just days before.

“Thank you for coming,” Ladybug begins, wringing her hands. “I know that there wasn’t really a final battle or anything –”

“Pity,” Nino mutters. “Been looking forward to smacking that guy in the face for years.”

“– but I still wanted to thank you for stepping up and putting yourselves on the line,” Ladybug continues, while Chat Noir’s lips twitch at Nino’s comment. “I trust the other heroes, of course, but you three are, well…I’d trust you with my life. And with what Chat Noir and I are about to reveal.”

Chat Noir’s lips quirk again, but it’s hollow. A small part of Kagami wonders if it’s appropriate for her to know exactly why, when even his own superhero partner doesn’t know.

“Even though Hawkmoth and Mayura are gone, there’s still so much to do with the Miraculouses,” Ladybug says. “Petty crimes, little acts of goodness…and figuring out how to do this whole Guardian thing. Part of that is not leaving the kwamis locked up in the Box for centuries. So, now that Hawkmoth is gone, and identities aren’t an issue anymore…”

Alya almost faints when Ladybug retrieves the Fox Miraculous from her yo-yo and holds it out. She stretches her hand out to take it, pauses with her fingers right above the golden chain, and she only snatches it away and hugs it to her chest with squeals of ecstasy when Ladybug smiles and nods. Nino actually yanks Ladybug in for a tight hug when she gives him the Turtle Miraculous before letting go to talk to the turtle kwami that had materialised, just as Alya is currently chatting away to the fox kwami so fast that her words are almost just a buzzing sound.

It takes every ounce of willpower for Kagami to not lose her composure and shriek when Ladybug presents her with the Dragon Miraculous. Instead, she forces herself to contain the energy that’s vibrating beneath her very skin, and she bows her head and accepts the choker from her masked girlfriend.

“Greetings, Kagami-san!” Longg says once she’s appeared in a flash of red light. “I am thrilled that you are to be my permanent holder!”

“As am I, Longg-sama,” Kagami says with a smile and holds out a hand for Longg to settle on.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” Ladybug says when Kagami, Alya, and Nino have finally exhausted themselves from excitement, “Chat Noir and I have something that we want to tell you.”

Chat Noir reaches out and takes Ladybug’s hand with a small smile. Alya looks like she’s going to burst with excitement, but that’s nothing compared to her reaction after Ladybug and Chat Noir utter their next words.

“Spots off.”

“Claws in.”

As soon as their transformation lights fade, it becomes painfully obvious that they hadn’t revealed themselves to each other before this moment. Alya’s screaming – muffled into a pillow to avoid security rushing up to them – and Nino’s wordless gaping are to be expected. What’s not expected is the way Marinette and Adrien take one look at each other, then squeal and jump apart.

“Oh my god, it’s you!” they bellow. Their kwamis, meanwhile, are doubled over in mid-air with laughter.

“Dude!” Nino holds up his hands with the look of someone who’s doing ten equations at once in their heads while being utterly awful at mathematics.

“My best friend is Ladybug!” Alya shrieks. “Since when? How the hell didn’t you two figure it out from being together? Is that why you gave me the Fox? And missed class all the time? And all the times you flaked – you were off being Ladybug – my best friend –”

Kagami just stands in the centre of this storm and smiles down at Longg.

“And you!” Alya jabs a finger at Kagami. “How the hell did you manage to land Ladybug and Adrien Agreste? Tell us mere mortals your secret!”

“You’re not even surprised?” Marinette splutters. “How did you –?”

“Because unlike others in this room…” Kagami takes a step forward and leans in. Marinette and Adrien lean back with wide eyes and pink cheeks. “I have a brain cell.” Then she leans back and savours the mixture of indignation and awe on her partners’ faces. She might pay for this later, but for now? She’s going to savour this sweet, sweet victory while she can, before Marinette and Adrien team up to punish her.

She won’t complain too much, though. She’s sure they’ll work out an appropriate punishment…like kissing her until her brain melts. She can live with that.

[maybe-your-left]

Cowboy Blues: Rhinestone Cowboy

Here is a link to my Masterlist with all the WIP I have! 

Clyde wasted no time making you cum after you screamed at the top of your lungs when Mellie hung up. Rolling off of him onto the floor you blew into the bathroom. Showering away the tears, and other bodily fluids that stained your body. You heard the bed creak and footsteps leading to the bathroom. 

“Y’okay sunshine?” Clyde spoke from behind the shower doors. 

You couldn’t respond. You were so upset with yourself, you just needed to wash away the sins and go face Mellie with a somewhat clear conscience. The door cracked slightly and Clyde peered inside, concern coloring his face. 

“Do y’ want me t’ wait outside?” 

“No, I just, I don’t,” you hiccuped between breaths, “Just get in dammit.” 

He quickly slipped in and positioned himself behind you and tried to get under the water to clean his face and hand from your juices. 

“I just feel shitty, not about what we did, just that I forgot about her…” 

“I know, I forgot too, y’ don’ have t’ be so harsh on yerself.” 

“Ughhhh,” you let out and laid your head against Clydes’ broad chest. “I’m not mad at you, I just wish Mellie wasn’t mad at me.” 

“She’ll get over it, don’ worry.” He kissed the top of your head and wrapped his arms around you, his hand tracing up and down your spine. You looked up at him and placed a kiss on his beard. 

“Thank you,” you sighed, “Now let’s wash off and get going.”

-----

The ride to Duck Tape was quick, Clyde told you to follow him to the salon since you had never been before. You decided to drive in silence, wrecking your brain trying to figure out how to casually talk about your phone conversation. Had she really heard Clyde? Was she just messing with you? Clyde was sure Mellie would get over it, in fact, he said she was rooting for the two of you and was one of the masterminds behind getting you to the bar. So it was kind of her fault you ended up together. No like she forced you to ride his beautiful face but come on there was room to share the blame. 

The both of you pulled into the salon and you shut off your car and made it out as slowly as possible. You were dragging your feet to the front door, even though Clyde was far enough in front to hold the door open you semi wished he had gone inside by himself. 

Mellie was sitting in a salon chair, arms crossed, legs crossed, tapping her heel away on the tile. She stared at the two of you with unforgiving eyes, it felt like she was staring into your soul. 

“Hey Mellie, we made it…” you stuttered. 

“I take it y’all had a nice morning?” her eyes narrowed at the both of you. 

Gulping you looked at Clyde who was trying his hardest not to make eye contact with his sister. You were on your own. 

“I’m really so-“

Mellie burst out in laughter. 

“You two look so damn guilty!” She started holding her sides and tried to calm herself down but burst into another fit of giggles when Clyde turned around and walked outside. 

“I can’t even believe you answered your phone!” she motioned out to Clyde, “while doing THAT, with Clyde!” 

“Mellie I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting-“ you tried to explain yourself but found her laughter infectious. You started laughing and Mellie ran over to you and took you in a hug. 

“Now I know you’re sorry, just don’t make me go through that again, please.” 

“I won't, I promise!” 

You felt so relieved. You thought she was mad at you, but really she was so tickled by how stupid you were and clearly how horny you were to just answer the phone during a moment like that. She explained that her husband had always tried to do shit like that when she was on the phone but she never let him get away with it. You seemed to have changed her mind though. 

After a few minutes chatting about your evening, leaving out spicy bits for Clyde's benefit, you went outside to wrangle in Clyde. 

“You can come in now, she's not mad at us,” walking over to him sitting on the hood of his car. 

“I know she ain’t,” he sighed “it’s embarrassin’ though, I don’ want her thinkin’ of me like that.” 

“Don’t beat yourself up, now let’s get our hair cut and just move on with our day, okay?” 

Clyde grumbled as you pulled him up by his hands. Following you back inside Mellie did Clyde's hair first, seeming to try and get him to relax. You tried to strike up a conversation with Mellie since he was in no mood. 

“So Mellie, who is your husband?” you couldn’t remember if she had told you last night or not so it seemed like a good starting point.

“Oh his name's Joe Bang, we’ve been together for a couple years.” 

“How’d you two meet?” 

Mellie paused and shared a weird look with Clyde before answering. 

“Um I met him in 2017, he and Clyde were in prison-“ 

“Mellie,” Clyde growled at her. 

Prison? Clyde was in prison? This was news… 

“Wait what? Clyde, you were in prison?” you stared at him dumbfounded. How long was he in prison, why would Mellie marry a convict that Clyde met? Why did this never come up!? 

“Anyway, I started seein’ Joe after he got out and we got married about a year ago.”

“Oh okay… well, that’s nice,” you were trying to play off the bombshell that she dropped. 

Clyde's hair was finished in silence, as the two of you switched seats he hovered over you. 

“Sunshine, I gotta head home n’ take care of the horses n’ Leroy. I’ll be at the bar if y’ what t’ stop by.” 

“Okay, I’ll see you later?” offering him a smile in hopes he would tell you about the ‘prison’ thing at some point. Leaning down he kissed your forehead before walking out. 

—— 

Clyde did not want to leave yet. He was so worried about Mellie and (Y/N) being alone together. There were so many things they could talk about in his absence. He wasn’t sure how the salon trip was going to go but he did not expect it turning out like that. He wasn’t expecting Mellie to start laughing at them when they came in, nor was he expecting her to bring up his time at Monroe.

He wasn’t ready to tell (Y/N) bout that yet, he was scared she would run away. He didn’t want her thinkin’ he was a criminal, he wasn’, he just didn’ drive ‘legally’ and he may have robbed a speedway. 

No big deal right? 

Right? 

It wasn’ long before Clyde made it home. He was greeted by Leroy at the front door who was so happy to see him. He had Earl come by and give him his medicine last night, and he was sure he hadn’t fed him enough. 

“Come on in Leroy, let’s get y’ some late breakfast.” 

Clyde was a good pet owner. He didn’ feed Leroy any artificial shit that clogged their arteries. He was a firm believer in givin’ dogs natural foods. So he was spoiled. Spoiled rotten, every mornin’ Clyde would make Leroy some bacon n eggs and they’d sit together before seein’ the horses. It wasn’ that Clyde meant to overfeed him, he just would beg him if he didn’ share his food and he couldn’ stand his puppy eyes. 

Clyde took the same care with feeding out to the horses, making sure that they were well fed with the best oats and hay that money could buy. Since he took them to shows he wanted to make sure their coats were shiny and they were healthy weights all year round. 

The silence around the barn calmed him, he had had a rough go of things as of late. Ever since meetin’ (Y/N), his usual routines were plagued with emptiness. He had felt it the day he met her and couldn’ shake the feelin’ that he was missin’ out on her company. 

She had such a warmth to her, genuine and caring. Albeit clumsy and a lil stubborn but she seemed to like him which in theory should’ve been enough. But no. 

It wasn’ enough. 

Every time Clyde was around (Y/N) he felt like he couldn’ get enough. He needed to show her how he felt, but now he was worried that she would be scared away from him. 

Makin’ his way back to the house he heard a beep from the answering machine. A message? Must’ve just missed the call… 

“Hey Clyde, it’s (Y/N). I just got done with my hair and was hopin’ we could talk and stuff. Call me back?” 

Shit. 

Clyde quickly grabbed the phone and began dialin’ (Y/N)’s number. He was prepared for the worst, she would want him to leave her alone after this mornin’. Clearly Mellie had told her about his sentencin’ and now she thinks he’s a know good criminal. He held his breath until the phone picked up. 

“Hello, this is (Y/N).”

“Hi, it’s Clyde,” he cleared his throat, “M’ sorry I missed yer call.”

“Oh, Hi Clyde!” 

“What did y’ want t’ talk about?”

A pause. 

“Well I just,” (Y/N) let out a long breath, this was it, “I just wanted to talk about us…I just don’t feel comfortable continuing-”

Clyde took a deep breath, “Ya I know darlin’, M sorry fer puttin’ y’ in those situations. I’ll let y’ be-”

“Clyde, will you let me finish?”

“O’course, sorry.” 

“I don’t feel comfortable continuing without us being…” another pause, “exclusive?”

Clyde dropped the phone. He was so sure she was goin’ to call and tell him to take a hike but now? Now she was tellin’ HIM, that she wanted to be exclusive! He scrambled and picked the phone up and (Y/N) didn’ seem to notice he was absent since she was still prattlin’ on ‘bout their situation. 

“Would y’ like t’ do horseback ridin’ Saturday?” he interrupted her word vomit. 

“Uh, well yes, but that doesn’t answer my earlier-”

“M’ not gonna ask y’ on the phone t’ be my girl, so jus’ be ready fer Saturday.” 

“Okay, I’ll see you Saturday, bye Clyde.”

“Bye Sunshine.”

-----

You hung up the phone after Clyde said goodbye and nearly screamed into your pillow. You couldn’t believe Clyde was taking you horseback riding, it had been years since you rode one. Not since your days back in Montana for vet school. You didn’t even own riding clothes. You would have to go shopping, maybe Mellie would go with you and get you all set up before Saturday. 

It was a whole week away so you had time to prep, you were so relieved that Clyde had asked you out. It wasn’t a traditional date but Clyde wasn’t really a traditional guy you were finding out. Mellie had told you all about him after he left the salon. 

About how back in high school he was on the rodeo team and rode broncos at the fairs, Jimmy their oldest brother apparently was the football star so Clyde had tried to make himself someone different. Mellie also told you about him going overseas to Iraq. You didn’t want to pry Clyde about his arm but you had noticed his tattoo while the two of you were intimate and obviously had to ask someone. Apparently Clyde was a Green Beret in the Army for two tours before he was discharged due to the bomb blowing his lower forearm off. You couldn’t believe that he still was so independent. That type of injury had to have been so traumatic, but it was clear he took comfort in the animals and people he surrounded himself in. 

Walking over to your closet you ripped through half your clothes to try and find an appropriate outfit for riding. What was Clyde planning? Were you just doing a day ride, or were you doing an overnight camping trip? You should’ve asked more questions. Whipping through dozens of drawers of clothes you found nothing. Nothing that screamed ‘please make me your girlfriend’ with subtle tones of ‘fuck me in the bushes’. 

You wasted about ten minutes before caving and calling Mellie, telling her all about Clydes ‘plan’ to take you riding after you pushed about your relationship. Mellie squealed when she heard that Clyde was taking you on a ride and insisted on just the place to go shopping tomorrow for your outfit. 

——

Monday morning had come quickly and you were eager to get done so you could meet Mellie at the salon. You had no clue what to buy but you had been browsing online at boots and already had a few in mind. 

You also were meant to stop and grab some intimate wear in case things got spicy with Clyde while on the ride. 

Patients were coming in left and right, you barely had time to breathe between rooms. Between the vaccines and frantic pet owners coming in because their animals were overheating in the West Virginian heat, you couldn’t catch a break. 

Finally, 2 o’clock rolled by and you could check your phone and eat your lunch before closing in an hour. Plopping down in your office you started inhaling food and scrolled through your notifications. Texts and phone calls from patients were all over along with Snapchat’s from your old college friends, but one text caught your eye. 

It was an unknown number. 

Hi Sunshine, can I ask you a question? 

Must be Clyde, he’s the only one that calls you that. 

Of course, what’s up? 

Setting your phone down to gather your stuff to head to Mellies, it buzzed again. 

Are you allergic to anything? 

What? What could he possibly be asking about your allergies for? 

TAGLIST: @finn-ray-nal-beads​ @morby​ @clumsycopy​ @desiraypark​ @kirah36​ @onlykyloscenes

[ladyideal]

Get Well Soon

Pairing: Leonard McCoy x Reader

Word Count: 1829

Summary: You help a colony pack up from a planet, and caught a rather nasty bug on the way back. After nearly two weeks, a cure was finally found. A particular doctor became rather reluctant in giving you it, as there were side effects that could be rather life threatening.

A/N: First off, I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense. Not entirely sure what I was trying to write. Was trying to get as close to the symptoms of the coronavirus, and ended up adding some of my own. Stay safe everyone, and remember to WASH YOUR HANDS. :) 

(gif wouldn’t load. Credit to @discoveringenterprise​, who’s taking up requests!)

“Sweetheart, you’re burning up,” Leonard mentioned, placing the back of his hand against your forehead. You had try to dodged away, but he was too fast. “You’re showing the same symptoms as the others.”

“I just need sleep, Len,” You argued. “’m not sick.”

The Enterprise was ordered to evacuate a Federation colony immediately. Planet 52XX was promising for some time, until the larger than life hurricane was spotted a year or two after the first settlement. Yet, the colony held out until the very last minute. With the hurricane larger than Jupiter’s own and encroaching onto the colony within two days did the Federation finally called it quits.

The planet was slightly more arid than the climate on the ship. In response, the lower decks were cleaned, and the second, more smaller Medbay was stocked ready for the colony members to come through for increase fluids. Temperature was raised, and the humidity was lowered to copy the planet’s climate. Steadily, they would be acclimated to the rest of the ship. 

Other than that, the colony were thin, but healthy.

As Captain, you and two teams were beamed down to the surface of the planet to help with the evacuation. Well, it was mostly you and one team speaking with the adults, and the other team herding the kids towards the shuttle. In just the five or six hours needed to get everyone on shuttles, a thunderstorm passed through, soaking literally everyone within its vicinity.

Everything went seamlessly. Life aboard the ship continued. 

Three day passed before the two members of the two landing teams was found unconscious, and immediately quarantined within hours after being brought down to the Medbay. Then another the next day, and another. Within five days after the original evacuation, everyone that was involved in the landing party were isolated. 

Len had messaged you the notice earlier, but you’d ignored it for the most part. Being friends with him since the Academy, and dating for a solid two years now, you’d learned to never question him on his medical expertise. However, you had other plans. Command was hailing you every other hour, demanding for reports on the status of their failed colony.

Your boyfriend observed you in concern, as you played around with the peas on your plate. “Then you wouldn’t mind coming to medbay with me, so I can take a look.”

“It’s just a waste of time, Len,” You insisted anyways. “It’s just a low fever and a slight cough.”

Leonard raised an eyebrow. “Humor me.”

You sighed, reluctantly chasing after the offending peas with a spoon and eating them. “Let’s go, I guess.”

It didn’t take long for Len to settle you in an isolation room. One hour being quarantined, and finally away from work, your exhaustion returned in full force, sending you into bouts of coughs and the beginnings of a rather nasty pneumonia. Your boyfriend gently brushed away an errant hair, affectionately tucking it in behind your ear.

“Get some sleep, Y/N.”

In a day, your health spiraled out of control. Your fever soared into the dangerous zone, and the pneumonia worsened, puzzling all the doctors on board. The colony members were fortunate enough to not have encountered any significant diseases, and none ever had any symptoms like you did. It was just a brief mission; get them ready, and back up the ship. There was minimal contact with them, and yet both landing parties were afflicted with a life threatening disease.

Your joints ached, and you felt as if every inch of your body was on fire. It was becoming a fight for your life. Even Chris’s gentle touch as she cooled your forehead with a cool washcloth was too much for your senses to take. The medication dripped steadily from the IV was helping, but it was going to be a long recovery ahead. 

“Leonard,” You whimpered weakly.

Christine sadly shushed you, humming tunelessly in an attempt to soothe you. She glanced over her shoulder in time to see Jim join your boyfriend, standing outside the isolation room. 

“Still nothing?” The blonde spoke. 

The CMO crossed his arms across his chest, but shook his head. His face was expressionless, but Jim knew better. He knew having you in the isolation room and severely ill was taking a toll on the doctor. There was a significant weight on him to take care of you, and all he felt was a failure in keeping you safe. 

“It doesn’t look good,” Leonard paused, briefly glancing up at the monitor that displayed the numbers to your vitals. “We’re doing all we can for her.”

“She’s a fighter,” Jim assured his best friend. “She’ll pull through it.”

The doctor was silent for a minute, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t lose her, Jim. I can’t.”

“And you won’t, Bones. She’s got you. She’ll be okay.”

A week and a half went by before any good news came around. The fever had loosened its grasps on you, but you were still warm, and everything absolutely ached. It was selfish you knew to keep your boyfriend by your sides at all times, especially since he still had other patients to take care of. So as much as your soul ached for the skin to skin contact, you kept quiet. Leonard, on the other hand, did his best to stay with you as long as he could. He would catch you up on the recent ship’s gossip, how Joanna was, and how Jim and the rest of the Bridge had sent you Get Well messages. 

Today was no different.

You were curled up on your side, mindful of all the monitor leads and IV tethers. Resting your eyes, you didn’t realize a presence beside your bed until the figure heaved out a heavy sigh. Despite the cannula nestled in your nose delivering a steady stream of pure oxygen, it was still hard to breathe.

“Len?” You croaked, cracking your eyes open. 

Your boyfriend met your gaze. Even though he’d donned on his protective gear, you could still see his red rimmed eyes, and the dark circles beneath them. Almost instinctively, you reached out for him, only for him to grasp your hand in his gloved ones. 

“I’m here, sweetheart,” He sounded strained, even to himself.

“You look awful, love,” You admonished gently, rubbing little circles on his hand in a futile attempt to get him to relax. “I’ll have you know that your office isn’t a place for you to sleep in.”

Leonard didn’t answer immediately, dropping his gaze to the vial rolling in his free hand. Curiously, you followed his attention too. With the joke falling flat, you figured out that he was wound up and too serious. All business, and no fun. 

“What’s that?”

“A cure,” Your doctor flatly replied. 

You brightened up at his words, but frowned since he wasn’t feeling the same. For now, you reserved judgement.

“Then?” You propped yourself up on an elbow. 

Leonard sighed again, making a show of reaching the hypospray and loading the blue tinged liquid vial into it. Once he readied it, he caught your gaze again. This time, instead of happiness, there was apology swirling within his eyes.

“Science pulled through late last night. There’s a lot of side effects to this. Nausea, headaches, chills, and a significant chance of having seizures. In your current state, I’m not sure if we can pull you back from that.”

Your frown deepened.

“But if I take it, I’ll have a chance, right?”

“Yes, darlin’.”

“Then let’s do it,” You watched as your boyfriend got to his feet, and paced in front of your bed. “I already feel worse then I did before I went to nap earlier.”

“Sweetheart, please. You’ve still got a fighting chance with all the immunity boosters we’ve given,”  He cursed afterwards, shaking his head.

“Len,” You spoke after a pause. “C’mere.”

Your boyfriend obediently shuffled back towards your bed, and sat back down on his stool. Reaching out for his hand, you kept your gaze on him and pouted.

“Please?”

He looked like he was going to argue, but thought better of it and stripped one of his gloves off. You spent the next few minutes reveling at the skin to skin contact, and briefly closed your eyes. It was awhile before you spoke again.

“I know you’re not ready to let me go, and I-I-I don’t want to either. But this is my one and only chance to stay with you, Len. I don’t want to go anywhere, but be by your side,” You breathed out, rubbing tiny circles with your thumb on the back of his hand. “I know the risks, love. This is me giving you my informed consent to go ahead, to give me a fighting chance.”

Leonard continued shaking his head. 

You caught his gaze, observing the swirl of anger, desperation, sorrow, apologetic, and most of all, love in his. Gently squeezing his hand, you smiled slightly. The muscles in his neck were strained, and the way his hands clenched and unclenched, as though they were itching to do anything, was a sign of his desperation.

“For us.”

“Y/N, you’re the captain of this goddamn ship. What if-?”

“Leonard, listen to me,” You interrupted. “There is a long list of what ifs that could happen. We won’t be getting anywhere if we start into those questions. However the fact still remains that giving me that is the only logical choice.”

“Logical?” The doctor rounded on you again. “Sweetheart, please don’t tell me that Spock’s been giving you lessons.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Len, it’ll be okay. I’ll be okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first in a long time, you could see the hurt and the fear flicker across his face. The entire time you were severely sick, he was careful in not worrying you for as much as he could. Rounding towards your bed again, he made a show in readying the hypo and priming it. 

Gently, he splayed a hand across the column of your throat, and glanced back at you. You nodded your consent one last time, as though you would have changed your mind in just a short amount of time. There was a slight fear, but you were ready to fully fight off this damn disease and get back into Leonard’s arms once more. 

Without much flair, he pressed the hypo to your neck, and injected the slightly blue substance. Tossing it aside when done, your boyfriend sat back down on his stool, head in his hands. 

“One hour,” He declared, voice muffled by his hands. “If you’re not having any seizures, we can talk about bringing you out to the main wing soon.”

You settled back against the biobed, and waited alongside him. 

Star Trek Tags: @mournthewicked​ Join the taglist!

[queenmendes]

your soft boy

raul mendes au 

Summary: He’s a bad boy, everyone knows that; she doesn’t care. 

I pulled this out of my ass for @heart-struck @sunrisebrashx and @definitelynotshawnmendes because they needed some Raul so sorry that it may kinda not be the best? BUT I will definitely do more of the Mendes Triplets. 

___

Finals were over for almost everyone that attended the university. So, what better way to celebrate than party hard? Everyone knew that Raul would throw a party, he does it every semester. The campus bad boy never disappointed. Sadly, he didn’t realize one of the few students that still have tests to study was his girl. 

No one ever said anything, but they never understood how Y/N L/N and Raul Mendes worked out. Y/N was a good, gentle girl and kinda shy; never wanting to be the center of attention. Raul was rough, confident, loved to pick fights, never failed to speak his mind and knew everyone was watching him. The two of them were polar opposites, but that’s what made the relationship thrive. He balanced her and she balanced him. 

But to her, Raul was a big softy. No one, besides his family and true friends, saw that side of him. No one but her.  He never failed to treat her right and always did anything to make her happy and smile. Always was surprising Y/N with flowers and spontaneous dates or cuddle sessions. 

“Baby, please?” Raul whined over the phone. He really wanted his girl by his side tonight. He loves to show her off to everyone; wants them all to know she is his and only his. 

“Raul, this is my biggest final yet. I can’t.” She softly explained, her eyes rapidly scanning the words on her notes. She could not afford to fail this final. 

“I know you, baby. You’re the smartest person I know. You’re ready. Now, you need to relax.” He didn’t want to seem clingy but he missed her. Finals have been hectic, especially for Y/N, and he hasn’t seen her in over a week; that too long for him. 

“Babe, I'll try and swing by but I don’t see it happening. I really want to study.” She explains. Raul sighs. 

“Okay, okay. But please, don’t over work yourself. And make sure you eat something; you never let yourself have little breaks and then you go way too long without food or something other than coffee to drink.” Raul rambles. She smiles softly from her spot at her desk, coffee sitting to the side. He knows her way too well. 

“Okay. I promise. I'll for sure see you tomorrow, after my exam.” She promised. 

“You better. You aren’t leaving my bed for a week-” She interrupts him. 

“Raul!” She shrieked and turns beat red. 

“I meant we were going to cuddle and watch movies. baby. But I like your thoughts better.” She could hear his smirk. 

“I’m hanging up now. Goodbye.” She said as he laughs at her. His laugh brings a smile to her face. It’s so contagious and perfect. She tries to focus back on her notes but he’s the only thing running through her mind now. Ugh, he knew exactly how to get her. 

She huffed in annoyance but closes her computer and puts all the papers together that were spread across every surface near her before making her way to her closet. 

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Raul can’t lie and say he is having a good time. He really wanted his girl with him tonight and is pouting because of it. Everyone noticed but no one dared to say anything. Well, almost everyone. 

“Come on. Let’s play beer pong.” Shawn suggested as he walked back into the kitchen where Raul was pouting in the corner. Peter followed right behind him. “Peter is having a better time than you and he hates parties.” 

“You’ll see her tomorrow, Raul. Have some fun tonight.” Peter inputted. The two grabbed their brother and dragged him over to the beer pong set up. Brian joined Shawn’s team and it was them against Raul and Peter. 

Raul was finally letting loose, thanks to his brother’s and childhood friend. Peter and him cheered as the one another round, all four of them getting more drunk by the round. But, Raul was never too drunk to notice people talking. Especially about his girl. 

“Yoo, Raul! Where’s that hot piece of ass of yours?” A guy from one of his lectures called out, obviously drunk but Raul did not care. Shawn and Peter immediately went to push Raul back but they weren’t quick enough. “What did you just fucking say?” Raul calmly said, getting into the guy’s face. Anyone that knew Raul knew he was way too calm right now; and that was not good. 

The guy went to open his mouth but never got the chance to say anything. Raul didn’t hesitate to throw the first punch. Or the second or third. Raul was furious; no one ever talks about his girl like that. She was way more than a piece of ass. A few punches landed on Raul’s side but it didn’t matter; Raul was on top like always (HEHEHE DON”T SAY ANYTHING I KNOW IT”S DIRTY) 

“Raul!” Her voice was the only thing that snapped him out of his rage. He whipped around to see her standing there, looking gorgeous as ever, but shocked at the scene. She knew Raul fought, everyone did. But he never wanted her to see it. 

“Baby.” Raul softly said, appalled that you had to see him like this. He didn’t know what to do or say. Everyone knew his reputation, even her, but he was a different person with you; a better person. Y/N grabbed his arm and pulled him away; leading him away from the crowd and into the kitchen. You didn’t say anything as you brought over a wet cloth and began gently wiping down his bloody hands. Raul just stared from his stop at the table, anxious about what you will say. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She softly asked, looking up at him finally. 

“I’m sorry.” Raul softly spoke. 

Raul was feeling so anxious. You were the best thing to happen to him and he felt like he truly ruined everything. Your relationship was still new; you’ve only been dating for about 6 months and everything was amazing. But tonight was the first time you have ever seen Raul that angry. But tonight was also the first night someone has ever said anything like that about you. Raul didn’t hesitate to defend you or throwing multiple punches; no one messes with his girl. But the damage he did shocked you, to say the least.

“Raul.” You stopped wiping the blood off of his cut and bruised up knuckles. “I knew exactly what I was getting into when I agreed to go out with you.” You explained. Raul looked more nervous and confused at how calm you were.

“But, you shouldn’t ever see me like that! I really have been trying to change for you, I swear.” Raul went to stand up but you pushed him back down before sitting on his lap. He relaxed into your hands as they cupped his face, gently stroking his jaw.

“I don’t want you to change baby.” You softly begin. “I was shocked, yes, but not because I was scared of you and what happened. But because no one has ever defended me like that.” Raul’s big hands began stroking your hips.

“But-” He tried to argue.

“No. I fell for you, Raul. Every part of you. Whether it’s the Raul that cuddles the shit out of me and brings me flowers for no reason at all. Or it’s the Raul that swings first and doesn’t ask later.” You argue back. “You defended me baby. To me, that’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“I just don’t want you to be scared of me.” His soft voice broke your heart. He knew what some people thought of him. That he was the black sheep. The out of control, bad boy triplet that never does anything good. But you never thought of him like that.

“I could never be scared of you. I know the real you. I know the Raul that every Sunday, goes to his parents house and has dinner then stays later to help his little sister with her homework. I know the Raul that sold his favorite leather jacket to get Shawn the guitar he wanted. I know the Raul that defends Peter to his last breath when someone mocks him. I know the Raul that can punch the shit out of someone and then ten minutes later, cuddle the shit out of me. You are everything I have ever wanted plus more.” Raul stares at you in awe.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” He whispered, leaning his forehead against yours. You smile as you press your lips to kiss. Raul’s kisses were always slow, soft and sweet. He was as gentle as can be with you and it always made your heart flutter. 

“I think I’m falling in love with you too.” You say as you pull away from his lips. His smile was the biggest you’ve ever seen it and it made you want to explode at how soft and happy he looked right now. 

He was your soft boy, no matter how many punches he throws.