#feel like pure shit just want someone to make me an offer to come boil my water :(

[mashmouths]

i need someone to break my routine in their hands over and over again

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Could you do a fluffy Rhys x reader where reader is sick and tries to push through work and training without telling anyone? She woke up feeling like shit and Rhys senses that something is wrong but she brushes it off. Like she’ll be training with Cassian who realizes that she sluggish and kinda out of it and silently tells Rhys, who eventually drags reader back home to take care of her?

Sick

Rhysand x Reader

Masterlist

Warnings; I don't think that I should warn you about something, it's pure fluff.

Someone was using a drill to escape your head or at least that was how you felt when you woke up. Rhys’ strong arm around your waist made you feel so hot that you wanted to crawl into a bathtub filled with ice. You slowly removed his hand and walked to the bathroom, your body aching with every step you took. Your reflection stared back at you, your face pale, you rubbed your eyes and entered the bathtub, the cold water making you moan.

You heard rustling of sheets, and you quickly sank your head trying to cool it down so Rhys wouldn’t realise that you are sick. You knew he would try to baby you and you didn’t have time for that. Beron was gathering an army and you needed to train. Other than that you had to put Azriel’s mission reports in an order, in case you could all understand Beron’s plans better.

Your mate walked into the bathroom, a mischievous smile on his face.

“There you are” his deep morning voice sent shivers down your spine.

“Good morning handsome” you smiled.

He stripped his underwear and approached you, hissing when his hand touched the water.

“It’s freezing what’s wrong?” He frowned.

He always teased you that you bathed in boiling water so now the temperature set off all the alarms in his head.

“Nothing’s wrong I just needed to wake up” you quickly said and got up “I have work to do and after that I will meet Cassian for training”.

He kept staring at you, but you grabbed the towel, wrapped it around your body and left hurriedly.

You got dressed and left the room before he finished his bath.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You were reading the same sentence for the last hour, the words were just symbols that made no sense. You groaned and closed the file, this could wait until after training.

You got up and stretched, the headache was getting worse, and your body ached, you prayed to the Cauldron to survive the training, you doubted that but at least you would go down trying.

Cassian was waiting for you on the roof, a grin on his face when he noticed you.

You started stretching next to him suppressing your pained groans and when you were done you both entered the fighting ring. Fists were flying around, legs kicking, Cassian wasn’t going easy on you, and you ended up on the ground multiple times.

“Come on you’re not even trying. Focus!” The warlord ordered and you grunted. You pushed the ground to lift your body but fell back down.

“Are you okay?” Cassian asked and hurried to you offering his hand. You took it and he pulled you up.

“Yeah fine just give me a minute” you panted and walked to the bench to drink some water.

Cassian stared at you his eyes unfocused as he called out for Rhys in his mind.

You re-entered the ring and approached Cassian.

“You’re sick” he noted.

“No I’m not” you replied.

“Yeah right” a deep voice said from behind -your favourite deep voice.

“Rhys I’m fine” you whined.

“No you’re not” he raised his voice and walked up to you. “We are going home” he announced and grabbed your hand. You didn’t refuse, it was pointless he was way too stubborn, and you were way too tired to protest.

His darkness engulfed you and carried you to your shared bedroom.

He picked you up and moved you to the bathroom, and you were glad when the water and soap cleaned the sweat off you. Rhysand wrapped you with the towel and picked you up again.

“I can walk you know” you whispered, your throat was closing, and you didn’t trust your voice. He only shushed you.

After helping you in one of his shirts he laid you down and pushed the duvet over your body.

“You should rest, I’ll be back in a few minutes” he kissed your forehead and left.

You were shivering because of the fever and when Rhysand walked back in the room you almost burst into tears.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?”

“I don’t feel good” you whined.

“I know” he cooed. “Drink this” he gave you a glass filled with a red liquid.

“What’s that?” You wrinkled your nose in disgust.

“Madja gave it to me, it will make you feel better” he kissed your forehead and got up to remove his clothes.

You were watching every move he made, his muscles flexed and you almost moaned by the sight. The smirk on his face showing that he noticed. He laid next to you and pulled you in his arms.

“Close your eyes sweetheart and try to sleep” he muttered and kissed your head.

And you did, pressed firmly on your mates warm body with his arms around you keeping you safe from the rest of the world.

Hope you enjoy it! Requests are open.

[infictionalwonderland]

Marvel characters with stripper s/o !

warnings : mentions of nudity, obviously stripping & pole dancing etc, lotta sexual shit bby, protectiveness, fem reader

characters included : tony, nat, steve, thor, bucky, sam, wanda

anthony —

mad protective

offers to literally pay for your well.. everything so you don’t have to work

but if you say you like your job and you want to continue working, he won’t push

he’ll respect your decision

i don’t think he’d come to your work place because he just wouldn’t be able to handle seeing other people thirst over his girl

major respect for you tho

cause pole dancing requires A LOT of strength plus the heels and everything

damn

definitely makes you were some of your skimpy stripper sets in the bedroom babe

and those high high heels

yea those too

if anyone ever talks bad about you bc of your career, it’s on fucking sight

death to all of them ☺️☺️☺️

always asks if you’re okay when you come back home cuz he knows how pple can be

fuck he was that person

but ultimately, just thinks you’re hot as shit babe <3

natalia —

i don’t know why but i feel like she knows how to pole dance as well

so it can be like a bonding experience 🤪

she doesn’t like the idea of people staring at what’s hers, and hers only, but she respects your decision

came to the strip club you work at once and ended up almost killing everyone that looked at you so she never went back

but

she did make you put your skills to use for something else

thinkin’ bout people looking at you while youre practically half naked makes her blood boil but when thinking bout you half naked on a pole makes her horny

so it’s a mix of emotions 😭

i feel like she would get a pole dancing pole but in her room or something and make you give her a private show

and perhaps

perhaps

if you’re lucky enough she’ll give you one back.

steeb —

😮😮😮😮

is like woah, and even more woah when he finds out just how much money you make

obviously doesn’t like it

flushes bright red whenever he’s reminded, bc of the images of you floating around his mind

doesn’t make any comments about it and tries to ignore the fact ( not out of shame, just cuz he flusters easily )

can get pouty at times

like when you’re about to go out for work sometimes he picks up the courage to say ‘you can stay home and give me a show, not them’

will whine

is really worried about people’s behaviour towards you at work!

immediately makes sure you’re okay as soon as you step in the door after work, looks you over for any physical sign of distress

if someone makes any sort of judgemental comment, bby is stepping up immediately

just supportive and flustered, as a whole <3

thor —

you’ll have to explain the job to him beforehand

but then he’s just extremely intrigued

asks you to show him your talents and what you do when you’re at work

is like 😮😍☺️🤩 thats my girlfriend guys, when you show him your pole dancing skills

genuinely so impressed with you

doesn’t see anything wrong with your career in the slightest

though if he does happen to stop by and see how the people react to you...

⚡️🌩⛈⚡️🌩⛈

trusts you completely without a doubt, he just doesn’t trust the people of midgard

‘if anyone troubles you, lady y/n, shout for help and i will hear you even if i am to be across midgard’

or something like that 😭

will unabashedly talk about your profession if asked

your biggest defender & supporter <33

bucky —

‘damn’

might drool a little ;)

then the fucking jealousy hits

and he just cannot get over the fact people get to see what’s his and his alone

expect some comments- tho all with purely heartfelt intentions

might catch him trying to convince the strip club owner to close it down

& he might.. jokingly.. suggest you get of on his metal arm cuz you like dancing on metal so much

he has a thing for your stripper heels too, and the outfits 😩😩😩

knock the fucking wind out of him

considers getting a stripper pole in your bedroom or summin so you can give him a show

all for education purposes ofc :)

checks how much money you make in a night and sees if it’s enough for his girl

if it’s not, he’ll have you do a show and give you the appropriate tips he knows you deserve

sam —

‘damn girl’

honestly is immediately turned on as images of you on a pole in slutty outfits fill his mind 😩

but then he’s like hold up-

people get to see you do that

half pouts & half glares at nothing at this realisation

has you give him lap dances and while you’re doing it he’ll brag that he has you doing it for free bc you’re all his

hands on your ass, ‘this is mine’ then a prolonged double boob squeeze ‘these are mine too’

checking you for any hand marks etc as soon as you walk through the door

making sure your shift went okay

and making sure that you’re okay

has you take selfies in your outfits before you go on

videos are acceptable and more than welcome, as well

wanda —

just raises an eyebrow at you at first

she could literally read your mind; she already knew

she would have said something to you if she felt it necessary but it’s not like she would ask you to quit, your body your choice & your life your choices

honestly thinks it’s attractive

thinking about you pole dancing in the sluttiest little bikini makes her wet

a fantasy of hers is you giving her a private show tbh

those outfits tho 😩😩

she cannot get over them.

the thought of people staring at you lustfully does make her slightly homicidal but we move

jumps at any opportunity to see you in action.. just, in private

the muscle you’ve gained from your job does turn her on quite a bit

has her way with you after work & presses kisses all over ur body to remind you that you’re hers :)

[filipinoizukuu]

hello mr simp do you have any thoughts on the leeks 👀

FIRST OF ALL. THEY CAME SO FUCKING EARLY??? BRO I WAS ASLEEP

SECOND OF ALL

holy SHIT YALL

Okay, it's no secret that I'm an All Might stan. I LOVE All Might. Very very much. Not just as a simp, but genuinely, I enjoy his character SO MUCH.

--And unlike what some people may think, I'm not totally blind to his flaws. I know he sucks as a mentor and that he's done way more harm to Deku than good. He's.... not perfect. in every sense of the word. The whole point of AM's character is that he is a DEEPLY FLAWED individual— but at the end of the day, still good.

This new chapter gave me SOOO many new feelings. I'm not gonna lie to y'all and say I was a Stain apologist beforehand because I wasn't. I disliked Stain to a certain degree, but I also knew he was morally grey enough that I was able to still quite appreciate him as a character. This chapter was about EVERYTHING to me because I honestly did NOT expect Hori to go in this direction and for things to happen the way they did. It was too good to be true! Too fanfic-y! The disbelief I felt when I read what happened was on par with when Bakugou and Deku had that apology and kinda-hug in the rain!

But this disbelief is not because it was a bad thing.

I think the writing in Chapter 326 is phenomenal. The moment that All Might was really beginning to lose hope in not just himself as a hero, but himself as a PERSON... we finally hear the opinion of someone who would abso-fucking-LUTELY make or break the last of his spirit.

Stain is, as much as his views are pretty agreeable and his label is that of a vigilante, still a pretty shitty guy. He's tried to kill literal kids who got in his way, even if said kids made pretty dumb decisions. AM hearing what he has to say is absolutely mind-boggling to him because he knows all of that. He knows Stain is a shitty person and that his worldview is perhaps terribly skewed. He knows Stain has spent a hot minute frying his brains down in Tartarus and isn't good at making judgment calls. Knows that for all intents and purposes, Stain's opinions are not to be trusted.

But the thing is... Toshinori also knows that Stain, regardless of the soundness of his mind, is telling the truth.

Regardless of how fucked-in-the-head Stain is, we as readers are able to acknowledge that he isn't blinded by hero worship. Sure, he's bitter, cynical, and quite the absolutist--but Stain is still clear-headed enough to be able to see AM's flaws for what they are and accept them, ultimately proving to Toshinori that the power of All Might was never his own but rather the legacy that he inspired.

The society MHA takes place in is flawed. We all know this. Heroes, as a concept, had been corrupted into being purely about good and evil. Purely winning fights for money or fame or the abstract concept of victory (coughs Endeavor and the no.1 spot coughs), making heroism as we know it about flashiness and power instead of mercy and the desire to help others.

All Might symbolizes the ideal version of the Hero Society. He represents doing the best you can. Being a hero until you reach your limits, and then going even past that. He symbolizes pure intention and the desire to be a hero not for material gains but because of the pure want to make society a better and safer place. Stain refers to Kamino Ward and the statue as a "holy land" because he believes that through and through, AM's only had the purest of intentions and morals. To him, Toshinori was like a deity that had no fault in making society what it was in the present because that accountability fell on the generations of heroes that failed to fulfill his legacy.

The point being, Stain understood that All Might was fundamentally not about 'being there' for everyone 24/7, but rather the message his presence had sent.

All Might's monologue at the beginning of the chapter essentially boiled down to the ideas that:

A. He regrets not being there properly for Deku

B. His image was a delusion that ultimately led to the downfall of hero society.

To break this down, his problem with Deku is his inability to be a competent mentor. It shows that he has led him down dangerous and horrible paths (Deku's stubbornness to do things by himself and his 'dark' arc post-war), and is unable to bring him back into the light even if he tries. It was only when Class 1-A had intervened that they were able to get Deku to rest and let people tag along, after all, which is why Toshinori was far too embarrassed to follow him into UA's walls even after everyone had come out with umbrellas.

Stain disproves this in two ways.

First, he says that it was never about All Might's ability to actually be there for people. The whole point of what inspired Deku to be the inherently good-hearted "true hero" he is today is because of the values that AM's brand had instilled in him as a child. AM's biggest positive impacts came from behind the screen where he was used as the proof that true heroes can and do exist. Deku does want to be exactly like All Might, yes, which is why we see Toshinori leading him down the same path that he walked--but the underlying message of this is that the very first thing All Might gave him even before OfA was the courage to help fix society.

I do believe Deku is an innately compassionate person. Most people in the series are. However, what makes All Might's smile so uniquely impactful to what it did to Hero Society is the way it gave people courage to help people. Less hesitation. Less bystander syndromes. The ability to move without thinking. Because you can feel the want to help a person, but the courage to be nosey and actually do it? That's portrayed as something AM's image teaches people.

The second way he disproves AM's insecurity of dragging Deku down is that he makes it clear that this pain is somewhat of a necessity in reforming society. He says, interestingly enough, that this is but the 'middle process' in reforming society. This spills over to how he addresses Problem B, but what Stain is essentially saying here is that this sort of brutality and isolation that Izuku faces is impermanent. A phase. It implies that even if Deku is struggling and Toshinori is unable to help him, it is something that needs to happen before they re-realize the ideal heroes All Might's image is meant to create.

The second problem in regards to how All Might feels about current society (how it's collapsing because of him, etc. etc.) is more interestingly addressed. There are many things that Stain says--like how Toshinori doesn't need to actually be the one to fix society with his bare hands. The current society is not his fault because of the fact that it is not finished developing. I'm not sure if I can go so far as to say that Stain means this in the sense of the Scorched Earth method of tearing everything down to build it back up better-- but I can say that Stain still has faith in society to rebuild after this period of chaos.

This rebuilding starts with the old generation of heroes correcting what they messed up (i.e. Endeavor v Dabi) and more importantly, paving the way for a better generation of heroes that was inspired by All Might's image. Heroes that are led by people like Deku, who is defined by his proclivity to help without thinking. The violent deconstruction of society is about exposing society to the raw truth of All Might's image that not everybody can be as strong as him-- which is why we have to take care of each other.

When the lady comes in to remove the sign and start cleaning the statue, it's symbolic. It's a clear metaphor that the past few chapters are the turning point for society as a whole, and how people are starting to remember what real heroism is. From the distrust that was seeded in society ever since LoV had surfaced, we are seeing that trust being returned TEN-FOLD now that people can see not only the mask of a hero's smile, but also the person underneath.

I think it's some really neat symbolism here too about how Deku, who's metal mouth guard was literally all about representing All Might's smile, is shed.

This is hero society dropping their masks. Letting people see them for as they are. Toshinori revisiting the statue in this form makes all the more impact because he shed his mask ages ago during the Kamino Bust, so this is him coming face to face with the image he's created and seeing the differences between them, and how his image continues to live on even after he's almost completely Quirkless. The lady cleaning the All Might statue shows off the fact that things can be repaired again--that society can be clean (hehe stain pun) again.

It's interesting to me here how Stain offers the information from Tartarus.

He doesn't care anymore about his life. It's evident. He disagrees with what the LoV is doing, but believes enough in Deku to think that it's time for him to retire the mantle of 'Stain'. Unless this is another test, it's very odd for me to hear that Stain is offering a blade and his life to someone he isn't even sure is All Might.

But the impact of this action reads loud and clear.

This is Stain taking pity on All Might. This is him realizing that All Might too is a person behind the hero. That Toshinori Yagi is incapable of doing anything past the image he had already created. By offering that knife and information on Tartarus, Stain is giving control back to Toshinori. He is giving AM the chance to do something big again to help society's reconstruction. To be a part of the revolution that he so badly deserves to see. That knife is essentially an exit ticket from the sidelines, and one last chance for All Might to be able to see what his image has done for people.

I personally think that the main reason Stain is willing to die then and there by Toshinori's hand, despite not being sure that he is All Might to begin with, is because of the final impact it creates that it isn't about Toshinori Yagi's true power as a person, but the image of All Might. It is because he looks like the symbol of peace, that Stain (the literal HERO KILLER) feels comfortable laying his life in his hands and giving away valuable information.

If that isn't a great testament to the power of AM's image, I don't know WHAT is.

I guess all I have to say is I absolutely love what Stain did in this chapter. Everything felt so incredibly symbolic and emotional and as someone who absolutely ADORES All Might and what he stands for in the story, this felt like a cool balm after seeing Deku tragically reject his bento box a good few chapters ago. I have a few more opinions about symbolism, and how I think Deku's generation of heroes is going to stray from the old gen, but I think that's a discussion for another time.

Thanks for reading 'til the end!

[hongism]

volume up - p. seonghwa 18+

day 7: public sex - park seonghwa warning: explicit smut, unprotected sex, public sex, dirty talk, exhibitionisn, creampie, sex in a karaoke room, daddy kink, breeding/impregnation kink, if u squint corruption kink wc: 1.8k genre: pwp, smut, 18+

​​​

If you had to pick one thing about Seonghwa that you love the most, it would be an easy answer. His voice. Everything about him is near perfect in your mind, but his voice has always stood out to you more than anything else. Not in a sappy, ‘I’m only saying this because we’re together’ sort of way. Rather, in the way where you could sit at the back of a karaoke room and listen to him sing for hours on end. That’s exactly what you are doing right now in fact — well, that’s what you were doing approximately ten minutes ago. Now, Seonghwa has you pressed to the back of the couch you’re sitting on, lips teasing the shell of your ear. You’re too lost in the heat of pleasure and arousal to think about how the hell you got in this position. When you’re more coherent though, you’re certain it will all boil down to the fact that Seonghwa was being a bit too sultry in his rendition of Taemin’s Move.

For now, you are more than happy to settle on the fact that Seonghwa’s lips are moving down the length of your neck and coming to a halt near the start of your collarbone. He nips at the skin, not hard enough to make you bleed, but just enough pressure to cause your nerves to light up with the sensation. You shift your hands to rest against his waist and try to twist his body. You don’t have enough strength to do so, however, so instead, you have to pull Seonghwa’s head back with your hand.

“Let me ride you,” you demand, whispering the heated words to his lips. Seonghwa clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Music still plays in the background, not loud enough to drown out your words, but loud enough for the bass to thrum in your veins.

“That’s rather bold seeing as we’re still in public,” he murmurs in response, but he doesn’t pull away from you. A breath of hesitation follows, then his warm breath cascades over your face once more. “Unless that’s why you want to do it.”

You don’t offer a strict yes or no confirmation, instead balling the material of his shirt in your fists and twisting until he now has his back against the booth. You throw a leg over his thighs and straddle him in an instant. You’re almost certain that you can feel your own arousal radiating off you in waves, but the look in Seonghwa’s eyes shows you that you aren’t alone in the feeling. He braces his hands on your hips.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he hums before tugging at the zipper of your shorts. You sit up for him, letting his hands do all the work and maneuver you however he needs to in order to toss the clothing off to the side. He doesn’t reach for your underwear though – a pretty lace pair that you know he loves – and you’re about to question him about it when he catches your curiosity. “We’ll keep those on just in case someone walks in. Can’t give them the privilege of seeing my princess fully undressed, no?”

My princess. The words cause the knot of arousal to tighten further, and you waste no time in reaching for his zipper as well. His erection strains behind it, throbbing already even though you’ve barely done anything more than a bit of kissing and grinding. Seonghwa rushes to help you and pulls his pants down just enough to let his cock loose.

“Can’t wait to have your cock inside me,” you whine as you grip the base of his leaking member. Dragging your hand up, you trace over his slit with your index finger and collect a bit of the precum there. A giggle falls from your lips when you bring that same finger to your tongue, arching a brow at Seonghwa while he watches on in a state of stunned silence. It takes several seconds, but he recovers and squeezes hard at your waist.

“You’re too much of a tease, baby girl. Just want me to ruin you anywhere and everywhere, huh?” He growls before pulling you flush against his chest. His tongue flicks over the junction of your neck and shoulder, teasing the skin there a few times before he latches on with his teeth. Your following moan is far too loud for safety, and you can only hope that the music is loud enough to drown it out. Instinctively, you clench your fingers around Seonghwa’s cock. The action elicits a moan from him as well, though he does a much better job at keeping the sound relatively contained.

“Fuck me, Hwa. I’m tired of waiting.”

“I should teach you a lesson in patience instead.” Seonghwa tsks but brings a hand down to shove your underwear to the side. There’s already a damp spot on your underwear from where some of your juices have leaked out, and Seonghwa inhales sharply as his fingers run over that wetness. “So wet already? Shame on you, princess. Not so innocent and pure after all, is it?” The words have you squirming in his lap; all the power and control you exuded earlier has gone out the window. It takes a split second for Seonghwa to gain control, and less than that for him to make you a writhing mess with only his words. “Hm, it seems like that’s it. The idea of having my dick in you makes you such a needy cockslut. How precious.”

“Pl-Please…” you trail off, unable to finish the thought without embarrassment overtaking your senses. Seonghwa pulls away from your neck to look you in the eye, but you can’t match his intense gaze. It’s Seonghwa’s turn to arch a brow, and a smirk stretches his lips a little wider.

“What is it, baby girl? What do you need me to do?” Your hand falls away from his cock and settles on his hip, chest rising and falling unevenly as you dare to look him in the eye.

“I need you to fuck me, Daddy,” you whisper. Seonghwa’s pupils expand a bit at your words, and his Adam’s Apple bobs a bit as he swallows around nothing. “Fill me up and fuck me until I’m full of your cum. Wanna feel you in me for days. Breed me like the bitch I am.” Seonghwa grips you tighter until you can feel his cock twitching against your stomach.

“Fuck, in public of all places,” Seonghwa hisses. He fumbles to lift your hips and settle his member between your legs, tip teasing your entrance with the lightest pressure. Despite his fervent movements, he penetrates you slowly and stretches you open inch by inch unit he’s fully settled in your tight walls. “You’re so tight, shit.” You wiggle a little on his lap, trying to get more comfortable but it only causes more strain to his weeping cock. “H-Hold on, princess, hold on. Don’t move yet, don’t move.”

“I’m ready for you to fuck me,” you protest. You throw a small pout out to accentuate your words in the hopes that Seonghwa will fall for your pleading eyes. It works like a charm because a moment later, Seonghwa rolls his hips against yours. His length presses deeper in you but it’s not enough for either of you. You lift your hips to meet his thrusts, shifting your weight onto your knees so that he can fuck up into you with more force and ease. The new angle has you seeing stars, and just bracing yourself on his shoulders isn’t enough to keep you upright. You drop your head to Seonghwa’s shoulder, moaning into the skin rather than the open air.

“You’re so desperate for Daddy’s cock that you’ll take it anywhere,” Seonghwa groans, words caressing your hairline.

“I-I’m a good s-slut for you, Daddy.”

“Yes, baby girl, such a good slut taking my dick so well.” You drop your hips back onto his cock and try to match the brutal pace he’s started. Seonghwa guides you through the thrusts. The lewd sound of skin slapping skin fills the air, even though the two of you try to keep the volume of your moans to a minimum, you can’t conceal the sound of your fucking. Seonghwa drops a hand to the couch and fumbles around for a few moments without losing his pace for a second. Taemin’s vocals increase in volume, pulsing louder in your ears, and you’ve lost track of how many times the sound has played on repeat in the background.

Your body remains alight with pleasure, walls clenching hard around Seonghwa as he continues to ram against your sweet spot time and time again. For a moment, you forget where you are and lose yourself completely in the addicting feeling of Seonghwa’s cock gliding in and out of your hole. You wish you could say something other than ‘yes’ but that seems to be the only word in your vocabulary in the heat of the moment. Seonghwa only makes your sanity devolve further into nothingness as he continues to whisper pure filth into your ear.

“You’re such a whore for my cum. Just want me to breed you like a bitch in heat.” That alone is nearly enough to bring you over the edge, but you cling to him a little tighter and attempt to stave off the orgasm as long as you can.

“Fu-uck me full of your cum, Daddy. I want my – ah, m-my tummy to swell with your cum,” you babble. Seonghwa takes control of your hips, and you’re grateful for it because you can’t keep the pace up any longer thanks to your aching muscles.

“Cum for me first, princess.”

It’s all the permission you need to let go, and your lips fall open in a silent scream as you reach your high. Seonghwa fucks you through it, pace slowing down considerably as not to overwhelm you, but you can tell that he’s about ready to burst at the seams himself. It doesn’t last much longer than that, and Seonghwa pulls you all the way down before spilling his hot seed inside you. The sensation combined with your still-rolling orgasm has your vision blurring at the edges. That darkness lingers until your high passes, and when you finally come down, Seonghwa is there to greet you with a hasty kiss on the lips.

“You’d better hope you can keep all my cum in you until we get home,” he says, pulling back just enough to breathe the words.

“And if I don't?”

“I don’t think you’ll particularly enjoy not cumming for a week, will you?”

...

a/n: hi @beefyjoon​​ ily i hope u enjoy :3

link to kinktober masterlist

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[tojismaiden]

SNK Male Characters as Yandere's (Modern AU)

WARNING: will contain dark themes.

Eren the Violent

It's a known fact that Eren doesn't have the best temper in the world.

But for you, he'd try his best to be patient. Key word: Try.

When Eren saw you, you were like the light at the end of the tunnel. The rainbow after the rain. The finish line. The trophy. The angel that every devil sought after.

You were kind to almost everybody but you were also fearless when you need to be. You helped everyone that you could and that included Eren. He got into another fight? You'd patch him up. He's lashing out on someone again? You'd calm him down. Everytime he needed someone, you were there.

So who could possibly blame him for falling for you? For wanting you?

At first, it was just an innocent crush he had on you. But days passed and he found himself growing more agitated. You were just too good, too pure. Eren knew that deep down, he had to have you. He's lost so much in his life, he can't lose you too.

So when the time came that he confessed, imagine his surprised and embarrassment when you told him you were with someone else. Of course, Eren being Eren, he'd pretend it's nothing and carry on with his day.

You thought none of it of course and kept treating Eren as how you saw him as; a friend.

Eren isn't the most patient man in the world, and neither is he the most calm one.

So please don't be surprised if you find your s/o brutally murdered.

"Oh, Y/N. I'm so sorry about your partner. I heard what happened. Such a shame, really."

"It's okay, Eren... I just— I just don't understand. Who would do something like this?"

"I don't know. But whoever it was, the person may not have liked your partner at all. In fact, that person might have hated them."

Your partner's death saddened you immensely but you were thankful that Eren was with you as you grieved. However, the more you spent time with Eren, the more concerned your friends got. They had bad vibes with him.

And Eren felt they don't particularly like him.

So the next time you see a news about an unknown killer going around?

Ignore it.

Your friends falling as victims of the said killer? Ignore it.

After all, Eren did it for you. So you could be together.

Forever.

Armin the Manipulative

There's no denying that Armin is smart. Way too fucking smart.

He would top in his classes and everyone came to him whenever they needed help with their homework.

But what exactly did Armin like about you? Simple. It's your sincerity.

Sure, he has friends and sure, his classmates would thank him whenever he helped them but with you, Armin could really feel like you learned something from him. It wasn't like the usual where the other would get the answers to their questions but obtained nothing from his explanation.

With you, you really applied what he taught you.

And Armin felt... appreciated. Like he wasn't being used to people's advantages.

So ever since then, Armin would willingly help you. Even offering to tutor you privately, free of charge! And each time you two spent time together, Armin's feelings for you grew stronger. The stronger they got, the more he got slightly too infatuated with you.

Weekly tutors turned into everyday tutors to the point where Armin would even tutor you during the weekend!

But who were you to say no? You were so thankful. If it weren't for Armin, you might have backloaded a subject or worse, repeated a grade!

You barely had time for your friends anymore but Armin assured you that it's better this way. That it's better if you prioritized your study sessions with him because your friends would just distract you.

And hey, come to think of it. Weren't they the reason you slept so late the last few weeks and almost made you miss an exam?

However, as busy as you are, you somehow found yourself in a situation where you got into a date with someone. An upperclassmen one of your friends introduced you to back then.

And when Armin found out, he was livid. But he loves you so much that he couldn't possibly bear to hurt you, no. Instead, he saved you from the inevitable torment.

"Y/N, you did this portion wrong, do it again." "Y/N! Didn't I tell you to replace this number with this? Do it again." "We're not stopping until you get it right."

Sure, Armin can be strict, but it's for your own good.

"Y/N, I apologize if I was harsh today. I just want to see you do good. And I'm so proud of you. I really believe you'll ace this test this week."

"I-It's okay, Armin. And thank you for helping me again. I promise I'll—"

"Say, Y/N, you should really stop seeing that person. I heard you were going out on a date with (Your crush's name). I suggest you don't. I heard they're going out with a friend of yours. (You friend's name) is their name, I think?"

"W-What? Where did you heard that?"

"Everyone's been talking about it. Plus, I think the reason you're doing pretty bad today is because of them. So please, Y/N, we worked really hard for you to get such good scores. Wouldn't you wanna make your senpai proud?"

You're so thankful for Armin. And you really don't want to disappoint him after all of what he's done for you.

So what better way to repay him than be obedient?

Jean the Stalker

It's not rocket science that Jean is a handsome young man.

But when he saw you? Oh, boy. He felt as if everything in the world felt right. You were just so fucking beautiful. The first time he saw you, he just couldn't look away. It felt as if his breath got knocked out of him.

He was sure you were a God/Goddess walking on Earth. Never had he seen someone so ethereal.

But the thing is, you were just so out of his league. While everyone kept talking to you, made friends with you, flirted with you, Jean stood from afar and watched you from the distance.

Sure, he follows your social media accounts. But he couldn't help but make dummy accounts and followed your accounts as well. He didn't want to take the risk of accidentally liking a picture of yours from years back with his personal account.

He didn't want you to think of him as a weird stalker or something because Jean is definitely not a stalker, no. Just no chance of him being that.

What Jean didn't know, is that you never noticed him at all. It's not your fault though, he was usually quiet and blended in the background. If you ever did see him around, you'd forget about him soon after. A shame, really.

But don't let Jean know that.

What started as him following your social media accounts turned into him just simply following you around.

He took note of you always stopping by at this convenient store right after class to buy your favorite drink and favorite sandwich almost everyday before you go home.

It happened so frequently, him walking with his hoodie on, head hung low as he walked a few steps behind you and somehow watching you buy the exact same thing everyday.

But everytime, Jean would only stop by at the convenient store. Once you were done, he would walk home. He didn't want to follow you home. Well, it's not that he didn't want to, it's just that he doesn't have the courage yet.

However, curiosity got the best of him and at night, when you were going home late, he followed you on your way home and you swore you could feel as if someone was follow you.

"Who's there?" Nothing.

When Jean successfully followed you home, it was like something inside him flicked open. And every night, he would stop by outside your home for an hour or so and every night he would see your silhouette as you took off your clothes and changed into comfier ones, and Jean had thoughts where he'd imagine just how you looked underneath them.

With each passing day, you felt as if you were continuously being watched. Being followed.

Maybe next time, you should really learn how to close your window.

Say, do you remember where your favorite underwear went?

Erwin the Blackmailer

You could never really ask for a better boyfriend. Erwin has it all.

At least, that's what you thought in the first few years of your relationship.

Erwin was everything you wanted and more. And he loved you so much... way too much.

And truthfully, you loved Erwin too. But there's no denying he's gotten so unbearable.

Back then, you would have done everything for Erwin. But every bit of love that you had for this man was now replaced with fear.

When Erwin began to openly express his obsession with you and his primary goal of making you all to himself, you had run away from him, far too scared of the lengths he'd go through just to satisfy this... obsession of his.

You noticed it little by little. But never had you thought it would come to this.

It started small at first. He would stop you from spending time with your friends little by little until you could no longer see them.

He would say something about them being bad influences. Going as far as to make up convincing lies that you, stupidly fell for.

After that, he stopped you from seeing your own family. Cut ties with those who are important to you. Deprived you your freedom. For he thought that you, going outside meant that you would meet someone else other than him.

And the thought of someone even merely looking at you made his blood boil.

But everytime you ran away from him, he would find you. Doesn't matter if you hid from him for weeks, months. He would end up finding you each and everytime.

At first, Erwin liked the cat and mouse game that you played. He thought it was thrilling. But then he slowly realized you were gaining this new profound strength. As if you thought that he wouldn't do anything except to find you and drag you back with him.

"I'm not going with you anymore, Erwin! I'm sick of this shit. You're all bark but no bite. Well, guess what? I'm done. And I'm not coming back!"

"Bark but no bite, eh? I wish you hadn't said that, Y/N. Say, your best friend doesn't live too far from here. You wouldn't mind if I pay them a visit, right? I'm sure they're worried about you, doll."

Ever since then, Erwin would blackmail you by threatening to hurt your loved ones if you didn't do as you were told.

This made your fear for him to go back and one time where you did disobey him despite his threats, you received a news where your bestfriend was found badly beaten in a dark alley and the perpetrator was nowhere to be found. Your bestfriend almost died if the suspect hadn't stopped.

And deep down, you knew this was Erwin's doing. It served as a warning that he wasn't afraid to kill for you so long as you stayed with him.

"I'm doing this for us, doll. Why can't you see how much I love you?"

"They don't deserve you, Y/N. They aren't willing to go for miles for you. But me, I would do anything to keep you by my side. Isn't that what you wanted? You said you didn't want to lose me, right?"

Erwin loved you so much. He wouldn't want to risk losing you ever again.

Maybe he should try going after your family this time the next time you try and run away from him.

Levi the Possessive

Levi had lost more people than he could count. So the moment he saw you?

He didn't want to let go.

What's scary about Levi is that you don't know what he's thinking of. He would never let you know what it is that runs through his mind.

He knows, however, that you're just like him. You lost your family and you barely had any friends. And you worked as a waiter/waitresss at this local diner to earn money for your tuition fee.

Levi understands. He's been through that struggle and he could see it on your face. He took note of everything you did. And he made a habit of coming in for tea even though the tea in the diner tasted like shit. But if you made it, he would make sure to leave an extra tip.

Levi made sure that it was you who would serve him everytime. If it were someone else, he would request for you immediately.

You never really noticed Levi, in all honesty. It wasn't his fault. It's not that he's not attractive. It's just that you were too far in your head to even look or strike a conversation with him.

You were quiet and obedient and somehow Levi liked that about you. It just means you would put up a less of a fight. Means it would be easier to convince you. Means that you would always say yes.

Though Levi hoped that underneath that submissive nature to you, you would somehow have a backbone there. Being too compliant would bore him to death.

And he witnessed that when you suddenly snapped at a customer for being perverted. You were almost fired on the spot if it weren't for the fact that Levi testified for you.

That was the first time you truly noticed him.

Ever since then, you made sure that you would be the one to serve Levi everytime he came by. And you made his tea extra special, which he appreciated. It was the least you could do after he helped you out the other day.

Days passed and Levi had successfully scored a date with you. The first time he saw your apartment, he was really glad to see it clean and organized despite its dinginess and small size. It was all you could afford.

Levi suggested a stay-in date at your place, just so he could see if you were fit to live with him. Once he saw how great of a cook you are, how tidy you are and everything, he knew it was time to eventually convince you.

Sex with Levi meant that he would top you. All of the fucking time. And everytime it happened, he would always mutter the same thing to you:

"You're mine. All fucking mine."

Of course, you treated it as simple dirty talk. Men say that all the time, right?

Eventually, Levi brought up the idea of you living with him. At first, you declined. You couldn't possibly do that. But Levi having a silver-tongue meant he eventually convinced you.

Living with Levi was a walk in a park. You'd help him clean and would tell him that you would help out with the bills but you were surprised when he told you that you didn't have to worry about that.

"Just sit down and look pretty for me, brat. That's all you need to do. You don't have to worry about the money."

You didn't like that Levi didn't want you to help with the bills but you couldn't possibly retort something back. He let you live in a nice home with a nice bathroom. Who were you to have a say in things?

Days passed, and Levi somehow brought up the topic of you quitting your job.

"What? But I like—"

"Like being a waiter/waitress? Come on, Y/N. Your colleagues are absolute assholes and don't get me started on your manager. I see how he looks at you."

"I'm sure that's not true, Levi..."

"Are you doubting me?"

"W-What? N-No, I—"

"That's a good girl. You know I'd hate it if those dingy dickwads were to look at what's mine, right?"

You quit your job.

Levi knew you'd be bored inside the house so in return, he let you sign up in one of those online courses to keep you busy.

It was all coming into plan. Finally, he got the partner for life he always dreamed of. The one that would cook him dinner everytime he came home from work. Would pleasure him in bed when he's stressed. Would clean without him having to ask you.

You were so perfect.

People hadn't heard from you for months. But Levi convinced you that there's no need if people heard from you or not. Eventually, they would forget about you. You had no family, you had no friends, all you had was Levi.

And if you found out that Levi would lock you inside the house everytime he left for work, you would choose to stay silent.

And if he were to ask you to wear a chain around your ankle, who were you to say No?

After all, Levi gave you everything.

Levi was your everything.

And you were everything to Levi.

How could he ever share something so precious to the world?

[stargaze-issei]

— "𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐞" (𝐛. 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭; bakugou and you had been dating for so long, but always had to hide it. he hates hiding you, he hates seeing you sad, and you don’t know how much more you can take.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; a little bit of angst at first, but then fluff.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; bc… him.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 2.0k

it had been a long day at your agency, longer than usual at least. a lot of little incidents in your patrol areas, meetings, reports waiting for you to give them a final look. you checked the watch on your desk, almost midnight. by then, only the guards must have been in the building. a long, heavy sigh left your lips. you still had work to do, but the urge to go home was bigger, so after taking your things, you drove home, eager to see your boyfriend. bakugou mananged to get himself the title of number one hero four years after graduation, surpassing even all might himself. seeing him achieve his dreams filled your heart with love and pride, though it still hurt not being able to share those feelings with the world.

on your second year at u.a., katsuki asked you on a date after months of notorious flirting, no one was really surprised, in fact, among your class, everyone was happy because of your influence in the boy. your honey moon period was interrupted a few months later, on what was class a’s last sports festival. as third years already, all the attention was laid on you and your classmates. hundreds of pro heroes expecting to catch the most promising graduates, and your last chance to show you worthy. on every phase, you and bakugou would share knowing glances, secret winks at each other, little reassuring smiles from you and calming head nods from him. with all those cameras making you the center of attention, it wasn’t too hard for people to figure out what was going on between both of you. you ended sixth, only surpassed by uraraka, kirishima, todoroki, midoriya and bakugou, and were really happy with your performance. that same night, after a celebration with all your friends at the dorm, you went into your boyfriend’s room.

he was laying in bed, reading a book, but still reached out to pull you into bed. “mind if i use your computer?” you asked, him humming in agreement, too focused to pay you more attention. first you checked your personal account, when nothing entertainment surge there, you opened your official hero account. as you expected, the festival just endign a few hours ago, the tags were exploding. your face completely change when you started to read.

“so, are we just ignoring the fact that Y/N of all people was making eyes at bakugou the ENTIRE TIME?? keep it in your pants geez”.

“i’m sorry but if you think that bakuy/n thing wasn’t a stunt, you’re wrong”.

“guys. it’s as simple as looking at y/n, and then looking at ✨bakugou✨”.

“yeah it’s a no for me, like ok they’re friends but don’t make it fucking disgusting”.

and you could keep going. most of them were about how someone as great as katsuki could never lay his eyes on you, fewer were about how he was too aggressive and violent for you, and some were just people hating on both of you. tears gather in your eyes, was this what everyone thought? you knew from the beginning the difference between bakugou katsuki and you, who was lucky to even had made it that far, but you didn’t realise just how big the difference was. katsuki immediately felt something was off, so he left his book aside and grabbed your hand.

“i…” was all you managed to say before bursting in tears. bakugou hugged you as fast as he could, whispering softly calming words and leaving small kisses in your head. slowly, he took away the computer to see what made you so upset. blood starting to boil in his veins, his whole self shaking in pure rage. he got up, leaving you in the bed, still a little teary.

“i’m going to kick those losers to the moon, who the fuck are they to say those things? fucking bastards, i’ll shove their words so up thei–” he was walking back and forward in the small space of his room, stopped only when he saw you crying even harder.

“am i really th–that unworthy of you?” the voice crack made his heart break “i know i’m not perfect but i really thought that… that…��� bakugou kneeled before you, looking at you dead in the eye. his hands gently reached your wet cheeks.

“don’t say dumb shit, dumbass. you are the most perfect person on this fucking planet, no one, not even youself, can say shit about that, ya’ hear me?” he did his best to calm himself down, knowing that you needed his comfort more than ever.

he took away the laptop before going into bed with you, holding you tightly in his arms. you were still crying, completely unable to get those words out of your mind. you loved katsuki, that you were sure, and he made clear several times that he loved you too, why didn’t people understand that? why it wasn’t enough?.

the next day, aizawa told both of you that in order to keep your mental health, at least until you graduate, to not make it official. he explained how sometimes, pro heroes had to keep their private life in check just to make things a little easier, as unfair as it sounds. so you waited, you graduate and held the impulse of kissing your boyfriend, hugging him, even look at him. it’s okay, only a few more days. katsuki sign a contract for two years with best jeanist, the number three hero at the time. you, on the other hand, had been offered to work with the lurkers, a team conformed by edgeshot, their leader, kamui woods and mt. lady, signing a similar contract to your boyfriend’s. you were overflowed with happiness, your dream had come true, finally you could call yourself a pro hero. you weren’t an intern, you were their equal.

“look, you are a great hero, but you are just starting” edgeshot had call you into his office, the manager of public interactions was next to him, talking to you “i did my research, and i’m going to have to ask you to keep this relationship of yours with ground zero a secret. you have so much potential, you need to leave a good impression or your hardwork would be for nothing.” you looked at your boss, seeing the uncomfortable look on his face. no one liked to ask those things, but sometimes there were sacrifices to be made.

“i have to talk with him first” was all you could say.

it killed you. not being able to love katsuki, to live a secret. most of the time all you wanted to do was scream in the middle of the street, where everyone could hear you. you loved bakugou katsuki, and he loved you, you wanted to spend you whole life with him, without hiding, without lies, without wondering if you were good enough for him. but it couldn’t be. now, four years later, both of you with your own agencies and a steady career, it still couldn’t be. again and again, no matter how many advisors you hired, everyone reached the same conclusion.

katsuki was waiting for you in the couch, watching a movie. instantly, you crawled to his arms, searching for reassurance. at least he was still the same.

“oi, are you okay?” even if his voice came out harshly, you knew he worried.

“i’m tired” you hid your face in his neck, intertwining your legs with his. you didn’t want to cry, but it was impossible to keep all the tears from falling.

“look at me” he said, lifting your face from your chin “what is it?” his eyes creeped inside yours, you hated making him worry, he lived the exact same things you did, but there you were the only one crying.

“i’m tired of this, bakugou” to hear his last name coming from you froze him in his place, what? tired of what? of him? you wanted to break up? “i can’t do it anymore” the way you grabbed his hand gave him confusing signs. “i want to go out with you, to hold your hand in public, i wanna kiss you and hug you whenever i want to, fuck, i want a normal relationship”

oh. it was that. bakugou sighed, a bit relieved. he understood, it was hard on him too, but at the same time, was all both of you knew. your relationship never had a normal phase, he couldn’t even remember the last date you had. how could he miss something he never had? of course, you were different. for some reason, the media had always been harsher on you. if it wasn’t your love life, it was your hero costume, or the way you did your job, how you didn’t have children, that forever tired face you got, they’d always find a new thing to complain. but you had your own fanbase, a lot of people who supported you, not for nothing you were the number four hero. being honest, katsuki didn’t know what to say. he hated seeing you like that, after all those years.

“let’s go out” he talked while getting up from the couch, lifting you with him “put on something comfy, hurry” when he saw you staring blankly at him, he took you from your legs as a bag of potatos “dammit, woman”.

once you got out of your surprise, you did as you were told after your boyfriend left you on the bed. his eyes glowed with a different shine, one that had disappeared a long time ago.

you got in his car, him driving. katsuki seemed happy, and that eased your anxiety. after a while, he parked in the middle of town. despite of the hour, there was a lot of people there, just as he expected.

“we can’t do this” you said, still a bit doubtful.

“of course we can, i’m going out with my girlfriend, i’m going to hold her hand, and i’m going to kiss her whenever the fuck i want, because she’s the baddest bitch out there and doesn’t deserves to be hidden from anyone”.

he said that. your heart raced, your cheeks heated up, what was going on? your belly had a thousand butterflies trying to escape. he said that. for the first time in five years, you kissed him without double thinking. a kiss filled with loved, confidence, feelings you couldn’t even describe.

he got out of the car first and opened your door, reaching out a hand. you were together in this, whatever happened wouldn’t be as bad, because you had him. there wasn’t anything else you needed but bakugou katsuki.

he explained what he planned while driving, you were going to go to every store you wanted, holding hands, sharing kisses. you were going to take pictures and share them with the world. you wanted an ice cream? then both of you would walk the entire tokyo to get you one, not minding the looks, the whispering. this was you and him.

and you did, you spent the most awesome night together, phones exploding with calls of both of you agencies. it didn’t matter.

you ended in a viewpoint, sitting in the back of your car watching the sun rise. a blanket provided the warm lacking from you bodies, even though you were cuddling. every time bakugou was at peace with you, unconsciously started to sing under his breath, in a really low voice. feeling his chest under your skin, his fingers tangled in your head, hearing his deep melodic voice. that’s how you wanted to spend your life.

“marry me” he said, his heart didn’t even race its pace. he was so calm, because he knew that your love was mutual. “c'mon, dumbass, marry me”.

“i love you” was all that left your mouth. he took it as a yes, and he was right. a soft smile curved in his lips, you were his, and he was entirely yours.

[voidmakyr]

Call me anyway (Bucky Barnes x F!Reader)

This is set in the TFATWS 3rd EP.

You are a former Flag Smasher living alone in Madripoor. You quit the gang some time ago. When the winter soldier stands in your door one night, you expected to be killed. But this wasn’t your end. It was the start of something that nobody saw coming. 

Warnings: smut, swear-words, (sexual) persuasion.

A/N: As always, english is not my first languagge. I am way too lazy to proof read. I really wanted to do something for Zemo but I just can’t get over Bucky? 

You tossed your keys down the hall table and stretched. You changed into a pair of boxers. It was another hot night, and as you pulled out the futon, you really wished the air conditioner were still working. You turned the box fan on and fed your cat. As soon as he’d polished off his fancy feast, took up pacing in front of the sliding glass door to your balcony.

Lightning flashed and you went over and slid back the glass door, moving the screen into place. You’d leave the thing open for only a little bit – the night air smelled good for once. Not a whiff of the usual garbage of madripoor.

You ducked into the bathroom. After brushing your teeth and scrubbing your face you ran a washcloth under some cold water and rubbed the back of your neck. Cool rivulets ran down your skin, and you welcomed the shivers as you walked back out.

You frowned. Something wasn’t right…

You went over to the glass door and you saw that your cat had sat down on his haunches and was purring as if he were welcoming someone he knew.

What the…

The man from last night was on the other side of the screen. You leaped back and dropped the washcloth, dimly hearing the fleshy flop when it hit the floor.

The screen slid open.

You panicked, but found you couldn’t move. You knew this man. He was called the winter soldier.

Oh, man, he really was handsome. He was tall and with your apartment being small to begin with, he turned it into a shoe box. He looked even better than the photos you‘ve seen. Dressed in black with dark hair and matching brown eyes. He wore gloves despite the heat.

Wait a minute.

What were you doing, measuring him for a suit? If this really was the winter soldier, there was no time for staring.

Running, you should be running. You should be making a break for the other door, running like hell.

But all you could do was stare at him.

You craned your neck to look up at his face.

God, he was gorgeous.

He must be coming to kill you, you thought. You didn’t know what you’d done to deserve a hit, but the longer you looked into his eyes, you could barely remember where you were.

You body swayed as he closed the distance between them. You were terrified of what was going to happen when he reached you, but noticed, absurdly, that your cat was purring and wrapping himself in and around the mans ankles.

That cat was a traitor. And if by some miracle you lived though the night, the cat was getting downgraded to mediocre cat food.

Your neck jacked back up as you met the man‘s steady, feral gaze. His stare burned.

And then the extraordinary happened. As he stepped in front of you, you felt a blast of pure, unadultered lust. Your body got wickedly hot. Hot and wet.

Your core bloomed for him.

It was chemistry, you thought numbly. Pure, raw, animal chemistry.

Whatever he had, you wanted.

„Don’t be afraid, (Y/N). My name is James. I wanted to ask you some questions“, he said.

His voice was low, a deep rumble in his solid chest. He had the sliver of an accent you couldn’t place.

„What questions?“, you breathed in a whisper.

„About your friends. The Flag Smashers...“

Dizziness made you reach out for the wall.

„Karli? Why..“ Confusion closed your mouth. „What do you want from them?“

His metal hand crossed the distance between your bodies and he took your chin between his forefinger and thumb. He tilted your face to one side.

„Are you going to kill me fast?“ you mumbled. „Or slow?“

„No killing. Just answers.“

As his head bent down, you told yourself you should fight him off in spire of his words. You needed to Gotthold arms of yours working, your legs, too. Trouble was, you didn’t really want to push him away. You took a deep breath.

Good heavens, he smelled fantastic. Fresh, clean sweat. A dark, masculine musk.

His lips hovered over your ear. The leather of his jacket creaked as his chest expanded.

„You are not one if them,“ he said softly, „not anymore, right?“

God, this had to be what people talked about when they waxed poetic about sex. You didn’t question the need to have him inside of you. You only knew that you were going to die if he didn’t take his pants off. Now.

You reached out, curious to touch him, but when you let go of the wall you started to fall. In what seemed like on motion, he turned around and caught you easily. As he swept you off the floor, you leaned into him, not even bothering to put up a pretense of fighting. He handled you as if you were weightless, crossing the room in two strides.

When he laid you down on the futon his dog tags fell forward, and you lifted your hand, touching the metal. You lifted your hands higher, touching his dark hair. They were thick, soft. You put your palm on his face and though he seemed surprised, he didn‘t pull back.

God, everything about him radiated sex, from the strength in his body to the way he moved to the smell of his skin. He was like no man you‘d ever came across before. And your body knew it just as clearly as her mind did.

„Kiss me,“ you said.

He hovered above you, a silent menace.

On impulse your hands went to the lapels of his jacket, and you tried to pull him down to your mouth.

He captured both your wrists in his metal hand.

„Easy.“

Easy? You didn’t want easy. Easy was not part of the plan.

You struggled against his hold and when you couldn’t get free you arched your back.

Your breasts strained against your Shirt, and you rubbed your thighs together, anticipating what it would feel like to have him between them.

If he‘d only put his hands-

„Sweet Jesus,“ he muttered.

You smiled up at him, relishing the sudden hunger in his face. „Touch me.“

The winter soldier started shaking his head. As if he were trying to clear it.

You opened your lips and moaned in frustration.

„Pull up my shirt.“ You arched again, offering your body to him. „Do it.“

His eyebrows were drawn tight, and you had some vague thought that you should be terrified. Instead, you brought your knees up and lifted your hips off the futon.

You imagined him kissing the insides of your thighs, finding your core with his mouth. Licking you. Another moan boiled out of your mouth.

——

Bucky was dumbfounded.

And he wasn’t a man who got struck stupid very often.

Holy Shit.

You were the hottest thing he’d ever gotten anywhere near. And he’d cozied up to a lightning stroke once or twice before.

You groaned again, your body undulating in a sexy wave, your legs opening wide. The scent of your arousal hit him hard as a body shot. God, he would have been sent to his knees if he hadn’t already been sitting down.

„Touch me“, you moaned.

Buckys blood pumped as if he were in a flat-out run, his erection throbbing like it had its own heartbeat.

„That’s not what I’m here for,“ he said.

„Touch me anyway.“

He knew he should say no. This wasn‘t fair to her. And they needed to talk. He had questions about... what again? Maybe he should come back later in the night. Try again.

You arched up, pushing against the hand he‘d clamped around your wrists. As your breasts strained against your shirt, he had to close his eyes.

Time to go. It was really time to go. He would check back with Sam and Zemo and just come back later, or tomorrow, or-

Except he couldn‘t leave without at least having a taste.

Yeah, but he was a selfish bastard if he laid one finger on you. A nasty, selfish bastard to take any of what you were offering without knowing who he really was. Dangerous, murderous, broken... a monster.

With a curse, Bucky opened his eyes.

Man, he was so cold. Cold down to his marrow.

And you were hot. Hot enough to make that ice go away, at least for a little while.

And it had been so long for him.

He let your wrists go.

Your hands grabbed his jacket, trying to push it back from his shoulders. He wrenched the thing off, and as it hit the floor with a thud, you laughed with satisfaction.

Bucky bent down over you and captured your lips with his mouth.

This time, when you thrust your breasts out, he got rid of his gloves and slid his normal hand under your thin shirt and onto your smooth, warm skin. Greedy to know the rest of you, he peeled your shirt off and tossed it aside.

Your breasts filled his palms, your nipples tight buds underneath the soft satin of your bra.

Buckys control snapped.

He let out a hiss and latched onto one of your nipples with his lips, drawing it into his mouth. As he drew circles with his tongue, he shifted his body and stretched out on top of you, falling in between your thighs. You absorbed his weight with a throaty sigh.

Your hands came between them as you reached for the front of his shirt, but he didn’t have the patience to let you undress him. He lifted up and ripped the material off his body. When he came back down, your breasts hit the wall of his chest and your body surged under his.

He wanted to kiss your mouth, but he was way past anything soft and gentle, so he worshipped your breasts with his tongue and then moved down to your belly. When he got to the waistband of your boxers, he drew them off your smooth legs.

Bucky felt something in his head pop as your scent reached him in a fresh wave. He was perilously close to orgasm, already. His release poised in his shaft, his body shaking with the need to take you. He put his hand between your thighs. You were so wet and hot that he growled.

Crazed though he was, he had to taste you before he invaded you.

He pressed kisses over your hips and across the tops of your thighs. Your hands tangled in his hair as you urged him exactly where he was headed.

He kissed your softest skin, drawing your core into his mouth, and you came over and over again for him until he couldn’t fight his own need any longer. He pulled back, shrugged out of his pants, and covered you with his body once more.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, and he hissed as your heat burned his erection.

He used what was left of his strength to pull back and look down into your face. Waiting for your okay.

„Don’t stop.“ you breathed. „I want to feel you inside me.“

Bucky dropped his head into the fragrant hollow of your neck. And slowly drew his hips back. The tip of his erection slid into place beautifully, and he sheathed himself in your body with one powerful stroke.

He let out a bellow of ecstasy.

Heaven. Now he knew what heaven was like.

____

You eased into consciousness slowly. It was like surfacing from a perfectly performed swan dive. There was a glow in your body, a satisfaction as you emerged from the buffered world of sleep.

„You are beautiful,“ he whispered.

His mouth came down on hers. But he wasn’t looking for anything. The kiss was not a demand. it was closer to a thank you.

Somewhere in the room, a cell phone went off. The ring wasn’t yours.

He moved so fast you jumped. One moment he was by your side; the next he was at his jacket. He flipped open the phone.

A flip phone? Weird.

„Yeah?“ The voice that had told her you you were beautiful was gone. Now he growled.

You pulled a sheet around your chest.

„Give me ten.“ He hung up the phone, put it back in the jacked, and picked up the pants he‘d been wearing. His metal arm reflected the tiny lights coming through the blinds.

The threat of re-dressing brought back some reality. God, had you really just had sex - really, really good, mind blowing sex - with the winter soldier?

„James... You are the winter soldier, right?“, you asked.

As he pulled black leather up his thighs, you caught a terrific shot of his ass.

„Not anymore. Don’t be afraid.“

When he sat down next to you, „I‘ve got to go. I might not get back tonigh, but I‘ll try.“

You didn’t want him to leave. You liked the feel of his body taking up more than its fair share of your bed.

You reached up to him, but took your hand back. You didn’t want to seem needy.

„No, touch me,“ he said, bending his body down, giving you all the access you could ask for.

You put your palm on his chest. His skin was war, his heart surging in an even pump.

„I need to know something.“, you said softly. „What the fuck do you want from me, if you’re looking for the flag smashers?“

He smiled a little, as if he liked your swearing.

„Are you trying to stop them?“, you asked.

„Yes, but-“

„Get out. I am not helping you.“ You stood up and put your clothes back on. There was no way, you were going to be a snitch. Even if you were no longer part of the team.

„(Y/N), they have... we need to stop them. They are dangerous.“, he said while looking to the ground. He didn’t seem to confident about that.

He now stood in front of your door to the balcony. Slowly you opened the glass door, took a look outside then went back to your bed.

„Because of the serum.“ You said calmly.

„You know about the serum?“

You laughed. „I don’t just know about it.“ You positioned yourself and got in a strong stance. You smiled. „I got it.“

With one forceful kick to his chest, Bucky got pushed out of your room. He could barely grab the railing to not fall eight down on the street. In front of him the glass door closed, big metal bars flew from the top to secure the entry even more. The blinds closed and he couldn’t see you anymore.

He couldn’t remember the last time he was taken by surprise. It wasn’t pleasant. When he looked down on himself, he saw a little piece of paper in the small pocket of his jacket.

It was a phone number.

XXX-XXXX-XXXX „Call anyway.“

[vicious-vixxxen]

Could I request older, pro-hero Deku with a chubby male s/o who gets ridiculed because people don't think someone of his size is good enough for the Number One hero

((Ah I may have gotten a little too deep with this one, so apologies nonnie in advance for the angst. Topics like this relate a lot to me personally. So here ya go.))

Izuku Midoriya x Chubby!Male!Reader

“That’s...such /bullshit/,” You huffed, fist clenched into the folds of the magazine, before flicking it across the kitchen with a huff- tears already stinging at the corner of your eyes as it landed split open- your face plastered over the centerfold article. ‘Is #1 Pro Hero Deku’s Husband /TOO/ big?’ The article practically shouted up at you- big, bold red letters smeared over your face, hiding the smile you’d had that night. You’d managed to secure a spot at one of Izuku’s favorite restaurants- mostly by promising the owner you’d be in and out of there within half an hour- he wasn’t the type to fawn too heavily over Pro Hero work, so ‘Deku’ being your husband didn’t hold much weight with him. But you’d been excellent patrons of his since they’d opened, in your second year of high school together. So you managed with what seniority you held. And seeing as how Izuku had only been able to snag thirty minutes between patrols, it was the perfect opportunity to scarf down a quick bite, and chat in- what you thought had been- the privacy of one of the uppermost floors of the establishment. But of course, sleazy as they were, the paparazzi had found a way to catch the both of you eating. A little too fast, a little too messily, just to be able to enjoy the atmosphere together, and have ample room to chat with one another before Izuku had to get back to his patrols. Which was fine, for Pro Hero Deku- six foot seven inches tall, two hundred and ten pounds of pure, lean machine muscle. The epitome of health and wellness, and what it meant to be strong. Able. And then there was you. A little too soft around the sides, cheeks /too/ plump/. Stomach /too/ pudgy. Thighs /too/ thick. God, you looked like a pig, food smeared on your chin, a bowl between you and your husband. ‘I guess we know where his priorities really lie’ the magazine quoted, from some random asshole on the street no doubt. Jesus Christ. “Bunch of fucking assholes.” You were angry. Of course you were angry. Fists held over your eyes to keep the tears at bay. But you were sad too. So, so fucking sad that this shit kept happening. Izuku’s management tried and failed countless times to keep shit like this from spreading. But people loved a good slam piece, as much as they adored seeing Deku’s latest accomplishments splashed across every newspaper, and TV report. Sick fucks. Whatever. Water under the bridge, you told yourself. Throat feeling tight, eyes burning with unshed tears, as you took a few deep breaths, and headed back towards your bedroom. Turning out lights in the house as you went, before stripping and crawling into bed. Thoughts running a mile a minute, as you stared up at the ceiling in silence. The only real noise the quiet sound of a car or two passing the house every now and again. You couldn’t help the way your open palms slid against your chest. Pressing, and kneading at the soft, pillowy flesh of your sides, and stomach. Grimacing at yourself, you recalled how fit you used to be during your high school days. What a dynamic you and Izuku had. Fresh on the scene after high school, no one could compare to the two of you. Kiri and Katsuki came close, but never quite managed the spark you and Izuku had. Professionally speaking. But Izuku just kept climbing higher, and higher- your quirk was good, but limited in its capabilities, which meant a halt in your hero placement a year or two after graduation. But you did what you could. You helped people because you wanted to help people, ratings be damned. But the harder Izuku worked, the more help he needed managing the world that came with climbing to number one. So you patrolled less and less, in favor of working with his design team on costume upgrades. Merchandise. Izuku trusting you and Inko to work directly with his management team, as he knew you all shared a hive mind of sorts when it came to design, and marketing. Pro Hero life for Deku was saving people. Kissing babies, and countless interviews. It was grueling, and tiresome, and he needed a team behind him to take care of everything else. So that’s what you did. Long hours spent at home alone, working through the night on various Deku projects. Meant less patrols, less gym time. You had no need for those things when you were kept busy with Izuku’s team, and you did good work! Fuck, you did great work, and Izuku praised you nonstop. Sure you’d gained a little weight at first, but it looked good on you. At least you thought so. And so did Izuku, if the way he drooled all over the expanse of your thighs the first time you’d gotten a night alone in nearly a month was any indication.   But as time progressed, you cared a little less about your appearance each day. You took care of yourself, and you were far from unhealthy. But there was no denying you had filled out substantially. You didn’t care, and Izuku didn’t seem to care either...but the media sure did. Closing your eyes suddenly, you took a deep breath. Holding it in for several seconds, before letting it out shakily. Tears finally falling as you did so, and you rolled over to snuggle into Izuku’s side of the bed- face smushed into the other man’s pillow, to breath in the soft scent of his cologne. His musk. Drifting off to sleep sniffling, dreaming of the glory days the two of you held together. Izuku hadn’t planned on coming home tonight at all, it wasn’t in his schedule to. But when he’d taken five to break for a snack, he’d ran into Kirishima at the agency. Chatting quickly, recalling rather suddenly that it had been several days since he’d seen Y/N. Scratching at the nape of his neck awkwardly, hunched over slightly muttering excuses to himself. He may have been big, and strong, but to his friends, Midoriya still held fast to those traits that made him who he was. Even back at UA. One call to Bakugou from Kirishima later, and the two of them were taking Deku’s shift, sending him hurrying home- a smile as bright as the sun on his face as he charged up, and bolted from the agency as fast as he could. Fingers crossed that you weren’t asleep yet. His dreams were dashed, but not unpleasantly so, when he landed outside however, and found all the lights in the house were off. It was late, and he appreciated you getting your rest. Knowing all too well how often you’d stay awake working on things for him. Izuku’s heart overflowed with love for you when he recalled all you did for him. For the both of you. He couldn’t imagine being as cemented in the top spot, as capable of doing what he did, without you there. You and his mother were his whole world, keeping him afloat at even the hardest of times. He...he was nothing, without you. So knowing you were in bed, getting your rest, made him smile. A smile that was soon replaced with a recoiled snarl as he entered the house- beelining to the kitchen for a glass of water, wherein he found the magazine spread out, as though left for him on the kitchen floor. Another one. Another article attacking you. Shaming you. Making fun of you. The kitchen was alight with green sparks as Izuku picked up the magazine, sneering at it when it came clearly into focus, before promptly stomping over and throwing it into the trash. Chest heaving as he sat with the knowledge that you’d probably been worrying over this again all evening. While he was out. Combing the city for villains, while you were here, dealing with...god. Hero suit boots already at the front door, Deku removed his socks as he made his way back to your bedroom quietly- leaving them in the hall- a nasty habit of his he’d never been able to break. Letting himself into your room, his heart breaking at the site before him. He wasn’t sure how long you’d been crying, but it was long enough to leave the salty, humid scent of tears in the air as he entered. And there you were, huddled up with his pillows, breathing softly- face smeared with tears, their tracks glinting back at Izuku as he rounded the bed, and just stood there. Feeling so powerless. Too big. Normally he’d clean up first, but being sure he couldn’t wait one more second, let alone the twenty minutes it would take to shower, Midoriya acted quickly. Removing his Hero suit silently, left in nothing but a pair of fitted boxer briefs- before sliding into bed next to you. Pulling his pillow gently from your grasp, to settle behind his own head, before gathering you up and into his arms. Shifting you almost entirely onto his front, before you stirred. Izuku’s stopped breathing when your eyes fluttered open, and your nose wrinkled- wanting to smile as you noticed the heat beneath you, the strong scent of Izuku’s skin filling your senses. Glancing up at him, your sleep idled mind offered only one clear thought. ‘He’s home’. Try as you might, however, the pressure from earlier in the evening boiled over again- mixing with the overwhelming sense of love you felt at being able to see him. Feel him. Smell him. Just /be/ with him. Everything was still, and quiet, a pin drop could be heard. Until you hiccupped, once, twice, before choking on a sob as you pressed your face flush against Izuku’s chest, and cried. You cried, and cried, and cried. Trying to recall the last time you’d seen him, your sleep clouded mind coming up blank. All you could see was that stupid fucking picture in the magazine. Izuku held firm to you as you cried, eyes shut tight, tears threatening to spill right alongside yours. Old habits die hard, he thought idly. He didn’t shush you, or try and quiet you down. Offer words of encouragement, nor did he berate the magazines, or spew on about how much hell he was going to put them through for this. He simply held you, stroked your back, and kissed the top of your head over and over, as you covered his chest in tears. Finally settling down after a few minutes, and simply breathing together. Your ears pressed against Deku’s wet chest, listening to your husband's heartbeat. Allowing it to calm you. Arms finding their way under Izuku’s body, holding each other now. Tight, almost too much. But neither of you complained. “I love you,” Izuku finally whispered, though it was so full of sentiment- of meaning, almost harshly so, it caught you off guard. “I love you more than the world will ever know, or understand, and I’d drop off the face of the planet tomorrow, and leave them to fend for themselves, if it meant proving to you how wonderfully, beautifully, exquisitely perfect you are to me.” Fucking…”I wanted to /stop/ crying, you fucking jerk,” You laughed wetly, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks as you lifted a hand to swat at the side of Deku’s head- both of you snickering wetly now, as you began to card your fingers through his hair with the same hand. Snuggling impossibly deeper into the man’s chest, as his words rang in your ears. He meant it too, the voice in your head whispered. Your chest tight as you imagined him giving up all he’d ever worked for, just so you’d understand. You never held any doubt that he loved you. As you were, as you had been- however you’d be tomorrow, or the day after. But you struggled a lot, internally. You always had. It would be a struggle you’d live with till the day you died, you were sure of it. But even so, you reasoned, then and there, that if even then, you knew how deeply, and unequivocally Izuku cared for you- loved you. That thing’s would always be okay. No matter what. “I love you too,” you sighed back finally, clearing your throat, and closing your eyes as you felt yourself quickly drifting again. “So so much, ‘zuku.” Peppering Deku’s chest with kisses till you fell asleep, Izuku was sure if his heart swelled any more, it would burst. Waiting till you had fallen back asleep fully, he rolled the two of you over. Caging you into the mattress beneath him, and falling asleep that way. Guarding you even as the two of you slept. Keeping you safe from everyone, and everything.  Midoriya’s only other thought, besides you, before he slipped into unconsciousness, was to call into the agency the next day, because he wasn’t going to going in for a while. ((Really enjoyed writing this one, got me in my feels, and made me feel all warm, imagining Deku holding me at the end of a  long day, when I could care less about feeling good about myself. Thanks for the opportunity nonnie, hope you enjoy.))

[maybankiara]

TELL ME, IS IT WORTH IT?

pairing: JJ Maybank x Pope Heyward

summary: Pope proposes, JJ panics, and now he’s trying to explain why he said no (and why he shouldn’t have done it.)

w/c: 3.7k

a/n: angst with a happy ending, ignore all the typos bc this is entirely unedited (i might edit in the future)

masterlist | tag list

read on archive of our own

It’s really unfair that when someone’s life falls apart, the world itself doesn’t. JJ thinks it should. It should be raining knives, hailing bullets, volcanoes should be exploding and the ground shaking shouldn’t be just his personal experience of reality. 

But it’s not even a moderately hot day. It’s breezy, it’s perfect, and it’s one of the nicest days of the fucking whole year. 

JJ hates it. 

The Chateau has only got John B and Kiara under its roof when he barges in, teeth gripping on the cap of a beer bottle. ‘Don’t ask,’ he states, then drops in the empty space between the two on the couch. His legs find their home on the coffee table and he nearly downs the bottle. Burps. Sighs, dramatically. 

He knows they’re exchanging glances, but he chooses to ignore it. 

Kie’s consoling hand lands on his shoulder. ‘What ha—’

‘Pope asked me to marry him,’ he says, ‘and I said no. And I also said I think it’s never going to happen.’

John B should’ve made a dumb comment. Kie should’ve made a sarcastic remark. But they didn’t, and they won’t, because JJ feels the gravity of the situation weighting down his lungs. (It feels like being torn up inside out, like his heart is chewing on itself out of anger, or sadness, or betrayal. It feels like the moment when your heart skips a beat and you think this is it, this is how I die, except you don’t; except you’re stuck in that moment forever.)

JJ burps. It chips at the silence, but it doesn’t break it. Kie’s hand on his shoulder is frozen and the distance between him and John B seems like an ocean. 

‘Yeah,’ says JJ. ‘I don’t think that was what he expected.’

A sigh comes from Kie, but he doesn’t look. ‘When was this?’

‘About twenty minutes ago. I drove straight here.’

‘Drunk?’ asks John B. 

‘Does it matter? I’m here now. Safe and sound.’ He lets out a dry chuckle before he can stop himself, and shakes his head. ‘Physically, anyway.’

‘You’re not drunk,’ says Kie. It sounds a little like a scoff, so JJ looks at her, but he can’t figure out what her face is saying. Tight lips scream anger, but her eyes are soft as ever, maybe a little concerned. She glances between him and John B with one of her eyebrows slightly raised. ‘He’s a heartbroken idiot, but not drunk.’

‘Ah. Understandable. Should I—’

‘You know what being a heartbroken idiot means.’ Kie pushes herself off the couch and when JJ glances at his other friend, John B’s just as confused as he is. ‘I know a thing or two about getting your heart broken for a dumb reason. You two sort that out, and I’ll make sure Pope’s okay. Let me know when you’ve knocked some sense into him.’

Before either of the boys manage to comprehend her words, she’s out the door. The Kie-shaped void on JJ’s left side feels a little odd, so he pushes himself into that side of the couch. The beer is bitter at the back of his throat; he wishes some music would be playing. 

John B calls his name, so JJ looks at him. He’s giving him the puppy eyes, trying to get him to talk, and it’s because neither of them really know how to start. (Their affection is physical, not verbal. Kie’s the one who’s good at that. Pope is—)

‘Did you panic?’ asks John B. 

JJ shakes his head. ‘Don’t think so. Not until after I’ve said it, anyway.’

‘So what happened?’

There’s a pause, JJ feels his brow furrow, and then: ‘I don’t know.’

‘…you don’t know?’

‘No.’

‘So you panicked.’

‘No, I didn’t, it’s—’ With a sigh, JJ accepts the momentary defeat. He glances over and sees John B’s signature stare full of indecipherable intent, but nothing less than pure kindness. They’ve had their bumps, but they always came out on top. It’s the pogue way. Even if John B wears that stupid bandanna around his neck well into his married life of his late twenties. ‘I knew the answer was no.’

It’s John B’s turn to frown. ‘You’ve thought about it?’

‘No, I just knew. Like you know the ocean is salty.’

‘You know that because you’ve tasted it before,’ counters John B. ‘I doubt you’ve been proposed to before.’

‘I could’ve been!’ 

All John B offers is a long stare yet that is enough. He’s older by only a few months, but he’s also married and didn’t say no to the proposal (granted, it was him proposing to Sarah, but still) and kind of has got his life together. He’s still JJ’s dumb older brother, but he knows something JJ doesn’t. 

‘How did you know you wanted to marry Sarah?�� 

‘Are you reconsidering your answer?’

‘No, I just—’ JJ sighs again and tries to wish another bottle into appearing in his hand. Doesn’t work. Probably for the better. He just leans his head back on the couch and stares at the ceiling, connecting the dots in his mind. ‘I don’t know what I’m doing. I just want you to tell me how you knew.’

He hears shuffling, and then feels John B’s feet in his lap. (He’s not going to comment on the boat shoes. There’s been enough deflecting. He’s got to listen, because Pope is threatening to burst into the forefront of his mind any second now.)

John B gives out the deep, heavy sigh that only comes with a slight aah whenever he’s about to tell a story. ‘When we were young, she made everything come alive. Everything looked brighter and clearer, and it was like I could finally breathe with the entirety of my lungs.’

JJ closes his eyes, trying not to gag. ‘Bro. I’m not listening to that.’

‘But that’s how I knew!’ He could just hear the grouch in his friend’s voice and now he’s threading the fine line between laughing and gagging. ‘Seriously, JJ, you asked. I don’t— I don’t know what to say. I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough.’

‘I am.’

‘No, you’re not. You’re deflecting.’

‘Big word.’

‘See?’ John B scrunches his nose, shaking his head. His thumb and index finger grip the bridge of his nose. ‘I know you’re confused. And scared. I know you panicked when Pope asked, but I don’t think you understand how horrible is the thing you’ve done.’

‘It’s not like I broke his heart,’ scoffs JJ, but the words are flat and his heart skips another beat. He doesn’t need to look at John B to knows he’s got his head in his hands. ‘C’mon, it’s Pope. He’s tougher than he looks.’

‘Yes, but he proposed, JJ. He asked to spend the rest of his life with you and you said no!’

‘I didn’t say no to that!’ JJ flings himself off the couch and now he’s pacing around the living room of the Chateau, marching circles around the coffee table. His forehead is pulsating; he’s probably having a heart attack. That’d explain a lot. ‘I said no to getting married.’

‘That’s the same thing.’

‘It isn’t.’

‘It is.’

‘It really isn’t, John B,’ he spits out. Christ, he’s getting hot. Is that his blood boiling? ‘Marriage is… It’s taxes. It’s prenups. It’s joint bank accounts, it’s added tension, it’s fucked up. Half of the marriages don’t even last.’

(Pope’s always talked about getting married. When gay marriage was legalised, before they were together, before they were out of the closet, even then he was openly delighted about it. He’s been talking about the two of them getting married for a while now, or at least hinting at it. 

He should’ve expected it. It didn’t come out of the blue. He saw the signs, just ignored them, because… because…)

‘If you’re scared marriage is going to ruin your relationship, JJ, I’ll have you know you’ve already done that yourself.’ 

This is about the point where everything just… It comes crashing down. The world does end the way JJ wanted it to. 

He feels himself growing very, very still, like when he was younger and his father raised a hand. He feels his breath halting in his throat and ears tuning out all sound, repeating John B’s words over and over until the echo became the echo of itself. He could feel the ground opening beneath him despite not moving an inch. 

When gravity drags you down to earth, your rose-tinted glasses shatter like porcelain. 

He sees Pope’s face of shock, then laughter, then embarrassment and betrayal at once, once he’s realised JJ isn’t joking. He sees him get up from his knees, hands shaking as JJ fumbles over his words, unable to find an explanation or an excuse. He feels cold sweat breaking out on his forehead, blood turning to ice in his hands. He sees his mum leaving, his dad’s hand raised; he sees people arguing and JJ wants to cover his ears. He sees himself, alone, alone, alone. 

And he sees Pope turning his back to him. Quietly. He doesn’t even argue back. Just takes the no and i’m sorry, i can’t do this, it’s never going to happen, not like this and doesn’t say a word. Just walks away. 

It’d be easier if he screamed at JJ. At least he’d know how to deal with that. 

Pope’s heartbreak is the quiet kind, the one that doesn’t ask for attention, just the opposite. Usually JJ’s there to hold his hand, to sit by his side until Pope’s ready to talk about it, or be somewhere around, far enough so that Pope deals with things himself, but close enough so that he’s there if he’s needed. He’s never been the reason for the quiet. 

Fire replaces the ice. JJ feels like the sun itself is tearing him open. 

‘Shit,’ he says. ‘Fuck.’ Then raises his eyes until he meets John B’s, blurry and barely visible. ‘I fucked up.’

He doesn’t realise he’s shaking until his knees buckle under his weight and he stumbles to find his footing. John B shoots from the couch and pulls him into a hug, wrapping his arms around him so tight JJ couldn’t have escaped if he wanted to. He didn’t. He wanted to be held, even if by a friend. 

He doesn’t sob because the sob gets caught in his throat, too, but he lets out a cough that says all the same. ‘It would’ve been easier if you yelled at me.’

‘I know.’ John B pats his back, letting JJ rest his weight unto him. ‘Pope will understand. That’s why Kie went to talk to him. As long as you realise you’re hurting everyone by being an idiot, you can make it better.’

‘I thought—’ He stops, because his words get fumbled again, and now he’s pressing his eyes into his friend’s shoulder like he’s all he’s got. ‘I don’t want to hurt anyone again.’

‘You’re not going to, okay? Just… Marriage is not all taxes, and you gotta understand that. It’s about knowing that if they get hurt, you’ll be allowed to see them. That you can get a house together, that you can look after each other if something goes wrong. That what you have is there to stay. Think of it as a promise.’

JJ snorts, but he doesn’t let go. ‘I don’t do well with people promising things to me.’

‘Then promise it to yourself,’ counters John B. The way he puts it makes it sound it’s as easy as breathing – JJ wishes he could feel the same. ‘Promise to stay with him. Promise to be around if something bad happens, but if something good happens, too. That’s what marriage is.’

‘I already promised that,’ he says. ‘His future and mine are the same.’

‘Then what’s the problem? Marriage is just making it legal. Making it formal. When what you have is honest and true, it doesn’t change anything. It just makes things better.’

JJ pulls out, feeling confident he can stand on his own two feet. He still feels a little lightheaded, but the thought of Pope possibly thinking that spending the rest of their lives together is the last thing JJ would want… That is the last thing JJ would want. Pope hurting because of him. 

JJ can’t afford to be scared anymore; living a life half-way ready to run is not living. 

He checks his phone; it must’ve chimed at some point because there’s texts from Kie, telling him where she is with Pope. His heart skips another beat, and at this point he thinks he could have enough heartbeats for a whole new person just from the ones he missed. 

He’s not dying today. He’s not dying before he gets to live the future he’s almost ripped out of his own hands. 

When he looks up at John B, he feels the hint of a weary smile on his lips. ‘I think I’ve got a promise to make.’

—

It shouldn’t be a surprise JJ finds them at the Boneyard, yet it’s still quite odd to see the scenario he’s seen a million times – Kie sitting next to the sea with her feet dipped into water as her fingers splash at the waves just about reaching her, and Pope… Pope sitting on the half-dunked log that’s been here forever, with his feet bare but not quite touching the water. His head is hung low and JJ can see the strain in his shoulders even from halfway across the beach; the cap is sitting on his lap, unused, despite the sun high above their heads. 

The sight tugs at his heart and he falters in his step, but John B’s firm hand on his back encourages him forward. JJ gives a slight nod; he’s not giving up on the courage. 

It’s Pope who notices them first and he stiffens even more; JJ sees Kie pat his knee before turning around and waving at them, then saying something to Pope. JJ wishes the wind would carry her words to him – is it encouragement or telling Pope he’s better off without someone who panics and refuses the one thing they’ve always longed for?

‘Don’t.’ John B pats him on the back. ‘I see you doing your dumb thought thing.’

JJ opens his mouth to say something, but whatever it was that he meant to say, it’s gone forever. All he can do is try and keep his shoulders from slumping and hands from forming fists; he can’t allow himself to be angry at the world, or himself. 

The sand creaks underneath his feet. He hates it in this moment, because it makes him aware of every step he’s got to take to get to Pope, and the steps drag into eternity. 

Pope locks their eyes. JJ tries figuring him out, but he’s too far, and Pope’s too guarded. 

(Not against me, Pope. Please. Not against me.)

When they get there, JJ feels like fainting, but he sets his foot firmly on the ground. He’s not escaping. 

‘Hey,’ greets Kie, and John B returns the greeting. The feuded lovers stay silent, just taking each other in. 

(JJ always wished he could paint. The lines of Pope’s face are shaped as if they were meant to withstand centuries instead of being washed away with age. He wishes he could offer to Pope more than just… himself.

He’s talked about this with Pope before, though. Feeling inferior to his boyfriend was always going to be JJ’s Achilles’ heel, yet he didn’t think it would come to this. He made another promise, ages ago – to try to see himself the way Pope sees him. The way other people see him. 

To believe in himself the way he believes in other people, for once.)

The silence is heavy, but JJ forces himself to not see it that way. Instead, he looks over to Kie, to John B, and says: ‘Can you guys give us a second?’

There’s nods and then they’re off, with nothing between the couple aside from waves crashing into the shore. Pope’s head is hung and shoulders slumped, and he’s sitting on this log with one foot pulled up and resting on it, the other hanging in the water now. JJ’s fingers ache to reach across for his, but he tells himself it’s not the time. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘Marriage scares me. I don’t know one that worked out, aside from John B and Sarah. I was raised to be on my own. Marriage means not being alone and that scared me, until I realised that… I haven’t been alone for a while now. The pogues, you… Nobody’s going anywhere. And if marriage is just a way to promise to you that I’m not going anywhere, either, and if it means so much to you, then I say let’s do it. I got scared, but never for a second did a life without you cross my mind. It’s — That’s my nightmare, Pope. Your future and mine are the same. Where you go, I follow. That’s the way things are.’

For a long time, it was JJ trying to come to terms with loving Pope – then it was Pope coming to terms with loving JJ. They’ve always loved each other, in a way, without quite saying it. It has never been the kind of love that is shouted from the rooftops – it’s the helping hand, the whispers of i got this, or you’re not alone in this, or i wish you could see yourself the way i see you. It’s the kind of love that’s etched into the air around them, existing as a part of themselves rather than something external. They’ve grown into it, shaped their lives around it.

It’s always been the beach for them. Their first kiss when they were seventeen, their first fight, their first promise to stick together through thick and thin. Every time something happened, something that mattered, etched itself into the back of JJ’s mind like the sound of his mother’s voice, it was always accompanied by the sound of waves on the shore; by the wind howling over the bay. It was always people chatting in the distance, or some music playing from a half-working speaker. It was always them, in the midst of other people’s lives. 

Pope proposed in their flat. 

When JJ drops to his knees, he doesn’t do his dumb thought thing. He doesn’t even think about it – for once, his gut isn’t telling him to run, but stay. ‘Pope Heyward.’

‘JJ—’

‘Can you let me do this?’ asks JJ. He laughs a little, shakes his head, and tries not to think about how ridiculous this looks. ‘I know I already had a monologue, but I don’t think I got my point across.’

Pope shakes his head, too; he isn’t smiling, but his eyes aren’t as strained anymore. ‘It’s okay, you don’t have to—’

‘I want to. I want this, okay? I want you to hear it.’

He can see Pope’s Adam’s apple bob, and he can see his shoulders slump in a relaxed way. The lines around his eyes soften and his lips nearly turn upwards, just a little bit. A little twitch is enough to shoot electricity to JJ’s heart. 

‘Pope, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life saying it to you. You’re my best friend, my boyfriend, and my fiancee, if you’ll have me after the shit I pulled today. Husband, then. Father of your children, because I know it’s what you’ve always wanted, and I want it, too. Whatever you’ll be, I’ll be by your side. It’s all I want. No matter what our status is, we’re always Pope and JJ. We’re always just us. And I really haven’t thought out what I’d say next because—’

Pope’s lips crash into JJ’s, his hands grasping at JJ’s face, and world pulls itself together again. When they part their foreheads lean against one another, and he can feel Pope’s breath on his lips, and he feels his hands burning on the small of Pope’s back, and he can breathe and breathe and breathe like his lungs have never worked properly before. 

(He understands John B now. Not like he’d ever admit it to him.)

He lets out a chuckle, and then he’s kissing Pope again – a small, chaste kiss, just to feel the softness of the touch. His fingers grip the back of Pope’s flannel and he’s laughing into the kiss. 

‘You’re an idiot,’ says Pope. ‘I should break up with you.’

‘Can’t. I’m too irresistible.’

‘Shut up. You’re cheesy. That entire speech would put John B to shame.’ 

JJ shakes his head again and then his thumb is tracing the line of Pope’s jaw, eyes transfixed by his lips. He almost lost this. He almost gave up everything out of fear after promising to never doing it again. (He’s making a vow, this time. It holds more weight.) ‘You loved that speech.’

Pope rolls his eyes, in the way that tells JJ he’s right. ‘Kie told me you were freaking out at the Chateau.’

‘I was,’ admits JJ. What’s the point of holding back the truth? ‘I was freaked out of my mind. I thought I’d ruined everything.’

‘You forget how well I know you, JJ. I was hurt, but I knew you would come back. Old you would run, but Kie came and said you’re at the Chateau, and you wouldn’t have gone there if you meant to run.’

‘I couldn’t ever run from you.’

‘You better.’

JJ rolls his eyes at the teasing tone in Pope’s voice, then pulls him in for a hug. It’s not long until Pope buries his face in JJ’s shoulder, and JJ kisses the side of his head. ‘I do want to marry you, if you’ll have me.’

There’s a pause and JJ feels Pope chuckle against his neck, shivering a little. ‘What is it that you said? My future and yours are the same? That better be in your vows, John B.’

‘Shut up.’ JJ feels himself burning, neck up this time, and tries to laugh it off. ‘I get to be cheesy once.’

‘Just save it for the wedding. I’d like to hear it again.’

JJ angles his body so there’s some space between them; he doesn’t hesitate before planting another kiss on Pope’s lips, reveling in the ease of movement. This is what coming home feels like, and if this is what future has in store for him, who is he to complain?

[wonder-womans-ex]

See It In Your Eyes

The sequel to ‘Cause Boy I was Made for You 

When Finn O'Hara was eleven years old, he got two things for Christmas: an Iron Man action figure and a telling off. There were probably other things, too, but in ten years (or eleven, or twelve, or even thirty for that matter) he wouldn't be able to remember them. 

But the action figure had been the one he'd eyed in the toy store window for the past seven months, and the telling off had been from his Aunt Isla. 

"There are two things you must never ask a lady," she had scolded. "Her age, and to see the mark on her wrist. Remember that, Finnegan." 

(For the record, he hadn't asked to see her wrist. He had asked her to pass him the stuffing, and he'd said "What's that?" when her sleeve got bunched up around her elbow.) (Not like she cared.)  

***

When Logan Tremblay was eleven years old, he nearly broke his jaw. One of the boys on his team tied his shoelaces together after practice and he fell and smashed his face on the locker room bench. 

After three and a half hours in the ER, he met his own eyes in the bathroom mirror, cheek swollen comically huge, and thought, don’t let it get to you, even though it already had. 

***

When Leo Knut was eleven years old, he got his first job. Sure, it was only a paper route, but to Leo, it was everything. Not only was he making money (real, actual money; his dad couldn’t tell him his Monopoly skills were just pure luck anymore) but he was the first in his family to learn anything interesting. One morning, halfway through his rounds, he flipped to the sports page. The words Local Team Manager Loses Job over Sexuality glared up at him. 

At lunchtime, when his parents asked about the news lately, he merely shrugged and took another bite of his taco. 

*** 

When Finn O’Hara was fifteen years old, he fell in love for the first time. Not with a person, no, but no one could deny that he was in love—by the fourth rewatch of Mamma Mia, his mother was resigned to promising him extra dessert if he would please, for the love of God, just sing anything else.

***

When Logan Tremblay was fifteen years old, he and his sister Noelle woke up at five in the morning on April Fool’s to rig their house. Noelle, admittedly, was behind most of it, but Logan came up with five spectacular (if he did say so himself) pranks: baking soda in the cereal and vinegar in the milk, which caused his father’s breakfast to fizz and explode the moment he poured it out; semi-permanent hair dye in his mother’s shampoo (her hair kept the blue tint for almost a month); all the hard-boiled eggs in the fridge swapped out for raw ones and vice versa; glue in his father’s shaving cream; and, just because he felt like it, all the toilet paper in the house hidden in the downstairs freezer. The day was a bright spot in a patch of darkness—it had been only a week before that he had found the tumblr post about anxiety symptoms and thought, maybe…

***

When Leo Knut was fifteen years old, he quit baseball—for good this time. His coach was confused as to why anyone would give up an 84 mph fastball and a glove that could catch any pop fly in favour of the ice, but Leo was sure. Hockey was his destiny. The pitcher’s mound had nothing to offer him, not anymore. 

***

When Finn O’Hara was eighteen years old, he met Logan Tremblay. His first thought—though he would not accept it until years later—was, He has very nice lips. I would like to kiss them. His second, mere moments later, was, Wait shit no fuck no dammit shit fuck.

***

When Logan Tremblay was eighteen years old, he began to wonder who his soulmate was. Maybe she would have coffee-brown eyes and a gap between her front teeth, the perfect height for him to rest his chin on top of her head. Maybe she would be taller, with wide hips and sharp elbows and long eyelashes. 

He tried to shake his fantasies of fiery red hair and gorgeous grins, because Logan was a hockey player and hockey players weren’t queer. 

*** 

Leo Knut is eighteen years old, and he is being pulled down a dimly lit hallway by Finn O’Hara. His wrist is warm beneath Finn’s grasp, his heart beating a little too fast for his liking. 

“Where are we going?” Logan asks from his place at the end of Finn’s other arm, but he gets no answer. 

Finally, they reach what Leo assumes is their destination: the…. Well, Leo isn’t sure where they are, actually. Some sort of storage room, he guesses, judging by the net in the corner. 

He still has no idea why they’re there. 

Logan is looking at Finn expectantly, a curious expression on his face. He looks like he knows what’s happening, and the thought bites at Leo’s heart. Great—he’s the only clueless one here. 

Finn takes a deep breath, and then another. “Hi,” he begins, and then stops. 

Not sure which of them he should look at, Leo focuses on a spot on the wall between Logan’s and Finn’s heads. He senses one of them watching him. He doesn’t check which it is. 

“So,” Finn tries again. “Ugh. I’m bad at this.”

“What exactly is ‘this’?” Logan’s brow, when Leo sneaks a glance at him, is furrowed, only a sliver of green eyes visible beneath his squint. 

There’s a thunk as Finn lets his head fall back against the wall. “This is me finally deciding to man up and tell you I’m in love with you.” 

Leo’s head turns to look at Logan so fast his neck hurts. He sees Logan blink once, and then twice. 

***

Finn meets Logan’s eyes. He can practically feel the electricity crackling between them. 

Because Logan knows.

He has to. 

He has to know that Finn’s heart nearly beats out of his chest every time Logan smiles. He has to know that sometimes he’ll be talking to someone, anyone—Cap, or Coach Weasley, or the press—and he’ll think about Harvard and he’ll forget how to breathe. Logan is half of Finn’s heart. 

But whether or not Logan knows it, the look on his face says he feels the same. Finn feels his lips start to curve into a smile. 

And then Leo says, “Why am I here, then?”

There are a hundred ways Finn could answer that question. One of them is ‘Why wouldn’t you be?’ and another is ‘I don’t know.’ He could be passionate. He could be tactful. He could be poetic or blunt or gentle or any of those things. 

What he goes with, in the end, is philosophical. 

“Who decides it’s wrong?” Finn says to the floor. “Any of it. The feeling. The wanting. The having, even. If it’s real, then how can it be wrong?”

He can’t see Logan’s face, nor Leo’s, but he imagines they must be confused. He goes on, not entirely sure he knows what he’s saying and not entirely sure he cares. “And maybe it’s destiny. And maybe it isn’t. Why does it matter? If it’s real and painful and there for the taking, why bother about whether it’s supposed to be?” 

Finally, he looks up. He senses that one of them is going to say something, and whichever it is, he cuts them off. 

“Maybe it’s not you. Fuck, maybe it isn’t either of you, and maybe I’m the only one who thinks it should be. But it has to mean something, doesn’t it? Because if it doesn’t… why bother at all?” 

And maybe, Finn thinks, I’m going to start crying.

***

Logan, mind still wheeling, is the only one who gets an inkling of what Leo is going to do before he does it. Finn certainly doesn’t, and he’s not quite sure Leo does either. 

He grabs Finn by the collar and pulls him up, their faces smashing together, red and gold curls tangling between their foreheads. Logan watches them slowly break apart, far enough away to lock eyes, yet still so close they’re breathing into each other’s mouths. His heart surges—with jealousy, yes, but also with something fiery and sweet. Something akin to excitement, or—dare he say—love. 

“Whoa,” he says out loud, not realizing it until Leo and Finn both glance over at him. His cheeks start to colour.

Then Leo places a hand on his shoulder and leans down to kiss him, too. This one is more gentle by far that the previous; a dance rather than a battle. It makes sense—Finn’s always been the brash one, the impulsive one, while Logan is tentative, sturdy—and it seems fitting that Leo is the one to remind them of that. 

Logan still doesn’t know what they’re doing there. 

Well, he knows what they’re doing, of course. They’re kissing. But he doesn’t know why Finn picked now to haul them halfway across Hogwarts arena and make it happen. Maybe if he really thought about it, something would come to him. 

But of course he’s not going to think about it, because Leo is still kissing him. 

When one of them finally pulls away—Logan isn’t sure who—Leo reaches one hand up and touches Logan’s lip. They stay there for a long moment, neither of them moving, before calloused fingers carefully skate across his waist. He turns towards Finn. 

They surge forward together, meeting in the middle. One of Finn’s hands fists in Logan’s hair, the other slipping under his shirt, as they kiss for the first time in nearly four years. 

He can taste salt. One of them is crying; it’s probably him.

When Logan starts to break away, desperate for air, Finn chases his mouth. Within a few seconds, though, he’s pulled back, too. It’s almost simultaneously that they remember there’s another person in the room. 

Leo’s lip is between his teeth as he worries at it. He doesn’t speak for a long moment; the silence, before it shatters, if practically tangible. “You two have history,” he says, like it’s a question he already knows the answer to. 

“We do,” Finn answers easily. There’s something fierce in his eyes. “But it’s the future that matters.”

Logan wishes Finn would stop sounding like Plato. Or Socrates. Or Aristotle. One of them, anyway. Finn is an American in his 20’s, not a 2000-something-year-old Greek. In any case, mystery is decidedly not Finn’s colour. 

Leo shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What do you mean, then?” 

“I mean you guys are—you’re practically—” he breaks off. One of his hands moves towards Logan, only stopping when it hovers mere centimetres from his wrist. “May I?” 

“I—sure.” Logan’s heart skips a beat when their fingers brush. Leo gently turns his hand so Logan’s palm is up, and it’s not until Leo starts to push his sleeve away that Logan realizes what he’s doing. 

But by then it’s too late—those three paw prints he spends so much time agonizing over are on display, no longer private, no longer just for him. For a split second, he considers covering his wrist again and leaving. But he does no such thing. 

Because if he can’t trust Finn and Leo, he can’t trust anyone. 

Finn’s mouth opens slightly in surprise. “It’s—” he says, and there’s barely any hesitation before he’s pulled his sleeve up, too. 

It takes a moment before Finn’s soulmark registers in Logan’s mind. When he does, he starts to smile. 

They’re soulmates. 

***

Leo feels his jaw clench. He knows he should be happy for them—and he is, really. They’ll smile at each other, and they’ll kiss again, and they’ll go on with their lives as that one couple who are so in love it hurts to look at them. 

He turns away when tears start to pool in his eyes. He’ll go back to the locker room; they obviously want to be alone right now. “I’ll just… yeah.”

Just as soon as he takes his first step towards the door, Finn grabs his arm. “Wait,” he says, and Leo stops. 

“Logan and I are soulmates,” says Finn, all in one breath, “But there are three prints. Not two. And I know that it’s rare, but Re—but I’ve been told it’s possible. That it’s happened before.”

Leo thinks he knows, but he has to make sure. “Do you mean—do you think we’re—”

“I know you’re only eighteen,”  Finn continues. “And I know there’s no way of knowing for a while. But does it matter? Even… even if I’m wrong? I love you—I love both of you—soulmates or not.” 

Leo waits for one of the others to say something more. When neither does, he wonders why, and quickly comes to the conclusion that it’s because they’re waiting for him to say something. 

“Who told you?” he asks the moment it pops into his head. It’s not the best thing he could say, but it’s not the worst, either. 

“Told me what?” 

“You said someone told you it was possible to have two soulmates. Who was it?”

There’s a pause as Finn cracks one of his knuckles, deep in thought. “Loops,” he whispers, but not until Leo has decided he’s not going to say anything at all. “I was talking to Loops yesterday, and I told him I thought… anyway, he said I should tell you.”

“You told him we’re soulmates?” Logan’s eyes are wide and fearful. “He knows we’re…?”

“Not you guys, no. Well, Leo, maybe. I just said you were both on the team, that’s all.”

“But you would have had to say something about my age,” Leo concludes, the dots starting to connect in his head. “And I’m the only one who’s not nineteen yet.”

“Yeah.” 

Logan swallows, the almost comical gulp audible in the quiet room, and he crosses his arms over his chest. There’s something about the gesture, however, that tells Leo it’s an act of protection, not defiance. “He’s not going to… tell anyone, is he?”

“No. And if he doesn’t, I won’t.” 

“What?” Leo thinks he might be missing something. 

“He won’t tell anyone we’re… gay.” It’s the first time any of them have said it—that three-letter word that, in their profession, could ruin everything. “Because he has his own secrets. There’s a difference between being ashamed of something and wanting to keep it private.” 

Logan’s eyes widen slightly. “You mean… we’re not the only ones?” His voice is incredulous, choked with emotion, and Leo reaches out a hand to him. 

“I don’t think we ever were.” 

***

Finn feels as though he’s floating. No—this is better than floating. This is dreaming. At any moment, he’s going to wake up staring at the ceiling of his bedroom with Leo asleep just a wall away. A mile away. 

It’s like he’s watching, not experiencing, the way Logan’s fingers twine with Leo’s, love overflowing from the gaze they share. He’s imagining the kiss Logan leans forward to plant on his cheek. Leo’s arm wrapping itself around his shoulders is all in his head. 

But it isn’t. Without having to speak, the three of them make their way out of the storage room and back into the hall—blond and brunet hand in hand, blond holding redhead so close it seems he’ll never let go. Finn leans into the warm body to his side, and he feels Leo stagger slightly as Logan does, too. They seem as though they would be perfect on the cover of a book, or a movie poster—Three’s Company, his mind provides, and he files it away just in case he ever decides he wants to sell the rights to his life story. 

He’s a long way from that, though. After all, it’s been barely half an hour since they started to unravel this knot they’ve spent so long tangling themselves into, and right now all Finn needs to do is try his best to make sure they don’t get tied up again. 

The locker room is almost abandoned. Pascal’s packing up the last of his stuff, and he smiles when they enter. Logan, for one, stiffens slightly in fear, but it doesn’t seem like there’s any need to. Indeed, the only thing Pascal says as he does up the zipper of his bag is, “Be good to him,” and none of them knows who he’s talking to, so they all nod. 

Finn waits until they have the room to themselves to pull Logan close to him. “It’ll be okay,” he says. “I promise.”

“But if people find out—”

“Then we’ll have to deal with that—all of us will. But you don’t have to be afraid. The team’s family. And family means no one gets lost behind or forgotten.” 

Logan nods, chewing his lower lip. It’s obvious when the gravity of Finn’s words clicks in his head—the expression on his face twists into one of confusion. “Wait a second—why does that sound familiar?”

“Because it’s from Lilo and Stitch.” 

Swiveling his head towards Leo, Finn stage whispers, “Shhhhh!” This gets a smile out of Logan. 

“I knew I’d heard it before somewhere. Shame on you, Finn—plagiarizing the words of an innocent blue alien!” He stops, blinking. “There’s something I never thought I’d say.” 

Finn smiles. This is his life now. He thinks he’ll have a lot of fun getting used to it.

***

Skates swishing over the ice, Logan lets the world fall away. He stops thinking about everything—even Finn’s contagious laughter and Leo’s broad grin fade from his mind as he gets closer and closer to the goal. 

Almost there, almost there—

He shoots. The puck whizzes past Kasey’s elbow, only barely missing him. 

“Nice one, Tremblay!”

Moody is nodding in approval. Logan feels a rush of pride—it’s an easy, everyday drill, something he’s been able to do in his sleep since he was a kid, but praise is always a good thing. When he can’t have a cheering crowd, he might as well have a coach who admires his talents. 

“Merci!” he says, beaming, and then, on second thought, adds, “I’d be surprised if it wasn’t!” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Finn and Leo bump shoulders. His heart swells—they love each other, and he loves that they love each other. Somehow, he finds it hard to believe it’s only been a day since the storage room and the kissing and—

“Tremblay!” Logan is shocked back out of his thoughts by Coach Weasley’s (albeit slightly amused) shout. “Stop daydreaming and take another shot!”

“Yes, Coach.” 

He’s sweating by the time he’s finally allowed to sit down again. He takes a swig of Gatorade, watching Finn try and sneak up behind him. 

“Boo!”

“Hi, Fish.”

“Dammit.” Two red eyebrows lift and fall again. “How’d you know I was here?”

“I saw you. You’re not inconspicuous.”

“You don’t just love me so much you could sense me from halfway across the world?”

Logan can’t help it—he glances around furtively, heart pounding, hoping desperately that no one heard Finn’s comment. “Well, that, too,” he adds, once he’s sure everyone else is sufficiently distracted. “But mostly that ginger head of yours just sticks out like a sore thumb. I call you mon rouge for a reason, you know.”

“Fuck you.”

"Peut-être plus tard.”

“In English, please?”

“...Maybe later.”

“But I want to know now.”

(If only he knew.)

Logan feels giddy as he realizes they really do have time for ‘maybe later.’ They have time, and they’ve earned it. After all, it’s been a day. It’s been eight years. 

It’s been forever. 

***

It’s almost a year later that Leo wakes up in an empty bed. He yawns, stretches, arches his back and hears his joints pop. For a moment, he wonders where his boys—even now, the thought that they really are his boys makes him unbelievably happy—are. 

Then he hears the voices from the kitchen. A smile spreads across his face at the exclamation of “Oh, shit!” and he swings his legs over the side of the bed, placing his feet on the floor and preparing for whatever disaster may greet him. 

(Honestly, who thought letting Finn and Logan cook was a good idea?)

And true enough, the moment walks into the kitchen he’s greeted by two things: the grinning faces of his boyfriends, and the smell of smoke. 

“What’s burning?”

“The bacon.” 

“Of course it is.” He reaches over, taking the pan from Finn, and scrutinizes it. “Salvageable,” he declares, “But please never try to make anything other than instant ramen again.”

Logan nods sheepishly. “Sorry,” he says. “We just wanted to make you something special. Y’know, for your birthday.” 

Right. 

His birthday. 

He’d actually forgotten about that. 

He’s not sure how—it’s all he’s been able to think about for almost a month now it’s here and he knows all three of them have the same thing on their minds. Sure, he’s excited, but right now, he’s leaning a little more towards terrified. Today’s the day. 

But he knows, when he lets a very real grin spread across his face, that they won’t pressure him. They know it’s his choice, and they’ll respect that. He has nothing to worry about except for the fact that the smoke detector is around six seconds away from going off. 

“Here,” he instructs Logan, putting the frying pan down on the stove. “Grab the fan from the bathroom—the little portable one—and bring it in here if you don’t want the fire department racing lights-and-fucking-sirens down our street.”

“Oui.” 

“Finn… just try not to set anything else on fire.” 

The hustle and (incredibly mild, all considering) panic only lasts for a few minutes. Finally, Leo presses a kiss to the top of Logan’s head, ruffling Finn’s hair, and opens the fridge. “Thanks for the breakfast, by the way.”

“Anytime.”

“...Or not.”

They all laugh at this, and when Leo grabs the milk and pours out three glasses, he watches them. He sees Finn pull out Logan’s chair with an exaggerated bow, glancing over and smiling when he and Leo lock eyes. 

It’s the classic movie dilemma. Will he, won’t he. Won’t he, will he. 

He waits until they’re all seated to bring it up. In the meantime, he rubs his wrist through the long-sleeved shirt he wore to bed yesterday for this very reason. It meant he was warm last night, but at least he gets a choice this morning. 

“So.”

Finn and Logan both look up. “Yeah, Peanut?” one of them asks—probably Finn, but Leo’s mind is too far away to give it much thought. 

“Are we going to talk about it?”

This time, it’s definitely Logan who responds, shrugging and poking at his bacon before saying, “Do you want to?”

“I think so.”

Here Finn cuts in. “I only have one thing to say, and that’s that whatever’s on your wrist? It doesn’t change anything. You’re mine—you’re ours—no matter what. We don’t have to be soulmates to be in love.” 

“I know that. I just… I used to feel like I was missing something, you know? It’s been ages since I did, but at the beginning I felt like this was your relationship, and I was just an extra part of it.” 

“I… I didn’t know you felt that way.” Logan’s eyes are earnest, emotional. Leo thinks he might see tears there. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. No, really—I felt that way, sure, but I don’t anymore. I know you guys love me. That’s what matters. I’m just tired of having the ability to tell myself I don’t belong, and this… this is what confirms it either way. 

“I want to know. I really do. But I can’t help being afraid of the answer.” 

Finn opens his mouth to speak, but Logan beats him to it. “It’s your choice. Whatever you decide to do, we’re here for you. You can do it today, you can do it tomorrow, you can do it in a year, you can do it never. Je t’aime, mon amour. Toujours.”

Time seems to slow down in the instant it takes Leo to reach into the deepest recesses of himself to gather all the courage he can find, take a deep breath, and pull up his left sleeve. His hands are hidden under the table, so neither Logan nor Finn knows what’s happened until Leo’s face spreads into the widest smile he’s ever worn and a choked, happy sob escapes his lips. 

He can see in both their eyes the instant they realize—Finn first, Logan following mere instants later—and he rubs a thumb over the golden print. Somehow, he knows that one’s his. 

He’s already seen this mark a hundred thousand times, but it feels so much more real there on his skin, blue and golden and green and—

“Yeah.” They know what he means. He wants to shout it out loud, sing it boldly as he walks down the street, because they’re his soulmates, and the only thing that matters more than that is that they’re in love. 

thanks to @peggyrose19 for betaing and @lumosinlove for the incredible characters <3

[starrygalaxy04]

Songs That Remind Them of You (MLQC Headcannons)

Victor

Don't Go Breaking My Heart (Elton John)- Victor is a sucker for romantic-style music, and this song is no exception. He can't help but imagine dueting this song with you whenever it plays softly in the background while he's making your favorite caramel pudding.

Adore You (Harry Styles)- He would never admit it, but this man just wants to shower you in affection. His favorite moments are when he gets to hold you in his arms and he can just gaze at you with the insane amount of joy, admiration, love, and unfiltered affection that only you get to see. He's been searching for you for a very long time, and he's going to cherish every second of being with you.

Still the One (One Direction)- He would never admit he ever listens to this song because like hell is anyone going to find out that he listens to boy bands, but this song's lyrics strike all the right chords with him. He loves the message it sends because its the very message he will always reiterate to you when you feel like you're not enough or he could do better. Its you, its always been you.

Lucien

Dark Side (Kelly Clarkson)- This man has a hard time knowing that you love him and are blissfully unaware of the monster that lurks just below the surface. He often finds himself wondering if you would still love him if he were just Ares, or if you would leave after you found out all of the things he had done for the sake of progress. But every time you wrap your arms around him or smile at him, all those worries melt away because he feels true emotion when he looks at you.

Its Gonna Be Me (NSYNC)- He knows that anyone in this world can have you, and it would kill him if you chose anyone else besides him. So he wants to make absolutely sure that he will never even have to think about letting his beautiful butterfly go. He is forever yours, and you will be forever his, even if it takes an eternity for that to happen.

Line Without A Hook (Ricky Montgomery)- This song mainly applies after Lucien no longer remembers MC, because I feel like it accurately describes how he feels. He knows MC doesn't trust him and is purposefully being distant, but at the same time the feelings that the other him felt are slowly trickling in and before long he's wishing that he could fix whatever it was that was tearing MC up so bad inside. And he knows that as he is, he's no good for you. But that doesn't mean that he isn't going to ignore the voice of reason in his head like the other him did and try his hardest to be what he once was for you.

Kiro

Fight For This Love (Cheryl)- Kiro knows that with him being a huge pop idol that sometimes the pressure gets to you. And he wants you to know he is always there and will be there next to you to fight through the thick and thin. He always wants to be with his favorite person ever, and will do whatever it takes to make sure that you're okay and he can be there to experience everything life has to offer with you, and to assure you that you are worth it.

100% Pure Love (Crystal Waters)- True to the name of the song, everything that Kiro feels (well almost everything, if you get what I mean) comes from the purest parts of him. He always wants you to be the happiest you can, always making sure that you have a bright smile on your face. And he knows what you two have is something people could only dream of, and having you in his arms is the best thing that ever happened since he met you again at that convenience store.

Price Tag (Jessie J)- He knows that when you two are together, nothing else matters. He knows you're not with him just because he's Kiro the superstar, but because he's Kiro. The bubbly 22 year-old who has an affinity for sweets and puppies with an adventurous streak. And he knows that if you two are next to each other, you wouldn't need anything else to have a good time.

Gavin

Treasure (Bruno Mars)- Honey, you are the center of this man's universe. He had treasured you since the first day he laid eyes on you, and wanted nothing more than to be by your side. And now that he is, he is over the moon. He may not be able to shower you in lavish gifts like some of the others, but every single moment you two spend together more than makes up from it, whether its a picnic under the stars or a midnight flight.

What A Man Gotta Do (The Jonas Brothers)- This brings back some of his older memories, back from the high school days. He was so shy when it came to you, and he never even knew how to approach you the majority of the time. So he always watched from the distance, wondering what he could do to get you to notice him. The song allows him to reflect on those cringey memories with a smile, and let him enjoy the fact that you were his, even after all that had happened.

Loving You Tonight (Andrew Allen)- This man can't wait to come home and just lay in your arms, or have you lay in his arms. His favorite moments are the ones of pure domesticity, things he never saw between his mother and father when he was younger. It feels so pure and freeing, and just so right. He loves every moment of it, and wouldn't have it any other way.

Helios

Popular Monster (Falling in Reverse)- While Helios is indeed a person, Helios is somewhat of a character that Kiro is playing. Its the side of him that he can't show to the world. He has killed people to protect others, to protect you, and in that way, he's exactly as the title reads, a popular monster.

Therefore I Am (Billie Eilish)- As Helios, he knows that everything relies on technique and execution, so he has completely shut out emotional functions for the most part, except when he's around you. But because Kiro is such a good actor, its very hard to tell. He knows that he's that bitch, and is not afraid to prove it, being blunt about literally everything. But he also knows that you have the perseverance of a God, to the point that its stupid, but as you build the confidence that comes with the identity of your Evol, he sees you growing in a way that he could have never taught you as Kiro.

Cigarette Duet (Princess Chelsea)- Helios knows that he can't associate with you as much as when he was Kiro because Black Swan is a bitch, but one thing he always wants to make sure is that you haven't fallen down and devolved into bad habits. The one thing that didn't leave Helios was his ability to care specifically about you, and even thinking that you would get into a habit that would harm yourself makes his blood boil. So he always makes sure you've remained drug-free and that you see him just enough that it won't get him in trouble and can give you comfort.

Shaw

No Roots (Alice Merton)- Shaw's idea of you is something much like how Victor saw you in the beginning. Someone who thrust themselves into something way over their head and now had to deal with the consequences of it. The only reason he believed you was because he knew of things (the man has his ways) and decided to help you because he found you just interesting enough that he thought it might be fun. But he found himself envying the fact that you didn't have a past in this world, and that you were free to do whatever you pleased without a reputation preceding you. He didn't like the fact that it caused you pain, but thanks to his asshole of a father the idea sounded a little too good to him.

Sad Girl (Lana Del Rey)- Shaw often found you moping around at first, mourning the fact that you had lost everything. But in the end, he was the one who helped you get over it, getting you back to your normal self. He still catches glimpses of that depressed look in your eyes, and always makes sure to lighten up on the teasing when he does see it. He never got the chance to be a kid and grow up properly, so he couldn't fathom exactly how hard it was for you. But he still tried.

White Tee (CORPSE)- We all know Shaw would be more into the punk style, and his music taste is no exception. He likes listening to mostly emo style music, and dabbles into a little bit of everything when he feels like it. However, this song mixes together his anger at the world for giving him such a shit childhood and the fact that with you he feels like he can start fresh. Because even though everyone else falls into the same category with him, you were different, and he wanted to explore that kind of different.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 07 part two

(Masterpost)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Lantern Lighting

Now we have the famous lantern scene, where everybody gets to express their character and have dates, ranging from disastrous to delightful, with the objects of their affection. 

Wei Wuxian continues to be ridiculously good at drawing. 

We’ve all seen Lan Wangji’s lovely first smile in the show a million times, so...let’s look at it again!

This scene is important not just because of the smile, but because there’s a distinct shift in the way they talk about their growing relationship. In the pond, it was “come visit me” and “never!” “I want to be your friend” “No need.” Basically Lan Wangji firmly saying no to Wei Wuxian’s offers of friendship.

This time, Wei Wuxian says “let’s do this together” and Lan Wangji says “I’m used to being alone,” which is not actually a No, just an explanation. And WWX says, you can change that. And then Lan Wangji DOES change it, sharing the lantern and the promise with Wei Wuxian.

Whoever painted this flower is even better than Wei Wuxian at plein air painting. 

(more after the cut!)

Everybody’s wishes

Nie Huasang makes a practical wish. Wen Qing prays for her brother and Jiang Cheng notices how she’s like Yanli. Jiang Cheng isn’t very intense about Wen Qing, which could be a sign of his shyness but could also be a sign of his gayness or aceness. After all, later in life he’s an apparently wealthy clan leader who is hot as fuck, and needs an heir, since his nephew is a Jin. But he’s still not married, 16 years after breaking up with and uh, helping to kill and cremate, the girl he liked in summer school.

The Promise We Made Together

Wei Wuxian makes an ultra-idealistic wish/promise while Lan Wangji watches and falls the rest of the way in love with him, and silently makes the same pledge inside his head. Later they will each refer to this as a promise they made together, which is a really super high level of face-reading by Wei Wuxian, to understand that he really is speaking for both of them here.  While making this promise, Lan Wangji brings out his Yin Iron Magic Bag and waves it around in front of everyone, but nobody notices. 

Let’s take a moment to consider *why* this moment is so powerful for Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji is a boy whose emotions are always on the boil. He’s 100% upset all the time, at this age, and he keeps it clamped down all the time. His cultivation level is probably as high as it is partly because of all the work he does in emotion regulation. (note: if you haven’t read all the meta at @howpeacefulislwj​ , go read it; it’s awesome and hilarious)

Wei Wuxian doesn’t GAF about emotion regulation; he just expresses what he feels, all the damn time. 

He is openly bored, lusty, playful, hungry, whiny. He straight up tells Lan Wangji “you’re boring and you have a stick up your ass” as part of saying he wants to be friends; no deference and also no falseness.  

And he can see right through Lan Wangji’s reserve, barging into his loneliness and isolation without any regard for all of his wards. Wards are made to be broken.

(Unrelated note: Young Lan Wangji's rare moments of contentment seem to come from looking at something beautiful--the moon, falling petals, these lanterns, his mirror.)

But Wei Wuxian is also good. Lan Wangji desperately wants to be good. And here’s Wei Wuxian embodying this awful, amazing, tempting alternative path, in which all the interesting things in life get explored thoroughly, all the sweetness and beauty gets consumed unreservedly, all the pain and ugliness gets confronted and endured without hesitation. 

In this moment, Wei Wuxian tells Lan Wangji “you can change,” and then offers up this prayer/promise that is just pure chivarly, speaking straight to Lan Wangji’s heart. Very simply, I want to spend my life doing right. Not 3500 rules; just one.

This infuriating boy, who breaks rules and who flirts indiscriminately and who pushes and pushes and pushes, reveals himself in this moment to be a hero at the beginning of his journey, and Lan Wangji sees it, and his heart goes right over the cliff.

The Girls’ Room

The girl cultivators all rush over to Yanli to get in her business about her betrothal, inspiring Jin Zixuan to act like a jerk to her and get even further onto Wei Wuxian’s bad side. 

Talk Shit, Get Hit

Yanli’s wish was that Wei Wuxian would grow up and be good. He promptly launches his own personal Sunshot campaign, punching her fiancee so hard that the sun falls out of the sky and the previously well-lit scene transitions to full night.

So, in English, “don’t mention it again” is really mild, akin to “I don’t want to talk about it.” Wei Wuxian’s reaction makes it seem like Jin Zixuan said something really shitty, like “don’t you dare mention that woman to me!” So I’m assuming something is being lost in translation. 

Lan Wangji tries to calm him down. He grabs Wei Wuxian’s sexy arm muscle and basically holds it until the Jiangs exit the scene. 

Nie Huaisang has placed himself between the opposing factions, which is unusually direct of him. In the future he’ll stick to being an unindicted co-conspirator when Wei Wuxian starts trouble. 

Ants in my Pants

Lan Wangji thinks kneeling can make Wei Wuxian cry, which is adorable of him. 

He really relishes this opportunity to be a pedantic tool to his new boyfriend that annoying boy he hardly ever touches, and it really doesn’t work out for him, poor lamb.

Jiang Fengmian stops by to show exactly how deep his affection for Wei Wuxian runs, and to give him whiplash from constantly changing parental expectations. In a couple of hours he’ll be laughing over WWX & JC’s hijinks.

Wei Wuxian takes this opportunity to fantasize about bad things happening to the other boy in the fight, which is in no way foreshadowing of anything.

Douche Dads Conference

We now convene this meeting of the douchebag council. Jiang Cheng is also invited even though he’s a prick, not a douche. <--important distinction

This is our first time meeting Clan Leader Jin Guangshan. He's actually the most sensible and best parent in this scene, but his smug self-satisfaction hints at his true nature. This actor, Shen Xiaohai, has been active in cdramas for a long while now. I wonder what he looked like 15 years ago?

...Holy mother of god.

Jiang Fengmian is the worst dad and the worst husband here. His clan believes in letting children do what they want - uhh YOUR child wants to marry Jin Zixuan. “I wrote a letter to her mother, who arranged this marriage.” Uhhh she arranged for her sickly, low-cultivation-level, sweet and vulnerable child to marry the heir of a rich and powerful clan, with a powerful mother-in-law who’s looking forward to loving and protecting her. Basically she’s guaranteed her daughter’s safety and comfort, and even potential happiness, since her husband may learn to appreciate her (and in fact, does, thanks to soup and repeated beatings from WWX).

Mom worked hard and probably spent a fair amount of social capital to achieve this. And you’re going to toss that aside because the boy thinks he’s too good for her? What the everloving fuck, how are you a clan leader in the first place? 

You can see that Jiang Cheng understands all of this and what a terrible choice his father is making here. 

So do the other adults in the room.

Jin Guangshen: our wives are going to kill us

Lan Qiren: I'm looking at a couple of dead men

Jiang Fengmian pointedly won’t listen to Jiang Cheng or let him speak, showing that all his talk about being free is actually bullshit, that only applies to other people’s children.

Jiang Chang vaults off of the deck to tell Wei Wuxian about it. Hottt

Sorry Sis

Wei Wuxian goes to Jiang Yanli to sorta-apologize and sorta ask to be let off the hook for fucking up her engagement, which he absolutely did. He knows it, which is presumably why he bows to her in paperman form while hiding outside.

At no time has Jiang Yanli indicated to anyone that she doesn’t want to marry Jin Zixuan, as far as I can see, or said she wanted to be defended from insults with punching. Look how good SHE is at defending a person from insults, for comparison.

Yin Iron Blah Blah Blah

The senior Lans meet with Jiang Fengmian  to talk about the Yawn Yin Iron. Yawn. 

Jiang Fengmian addresses Lan Xichen as Lan Gongzi, which is adorable, since he is a big boy to everyone else. His family calls him Xichen and other people call him Zewu-Jun.

Farewell and Fuck You

The three Jiang kids come to say goodbye.

Lan Quiren says goodbye with a heap of criticism for Wei Wuxian and the horse he rode in on, and Jiang Fengmian basically says, yep, that’s what he’s like, all right.  

Good thing Wei Ying gets so much verbal abuse at home he doesn’t take it very hard when he finds it in the field. 

Wangji doesn’t say goodbye properly, which will be a recurring theme for the two of them.

I don’t know if this is because he has a problem with goodbyes, or is just being a jerk, or because he’s so bad at lying he doesn’t dare talk to Wei Wuxian lest he reveal his travel plans. 

Indulgent Dad Continues to be the Worst

Jiang Cheng complains at Wei Wuxian for wanting to say goodbye to Lan Wangji, and WWX says he likes him because he is equal to WWX in fighting, whereas JC sucks. JC hits him tries to hit him--gosh, he DOES suck, comparatively. 

Yanli, who has been keeping these boys in line all summer, sighs deeply at her Dad’s tolerance for their hijinks. OP has five brothers and this sibling-hijinks behavior is 100% accurate, except for the part where it is happening at someone else’s house in front of the hosts. 

WWX pretending to be Lan Qiren where Lan Wangji can see him doing it, in front of Lan Qiren’s colleague and supposed friend, and just earning a laugh from the patriarch? Good lord.  Dad Jiang tolerating this is shocking, particularly in the in-show culture where corporal punishment is as common as tea. 

We’ve tried Nothing, and we’re all out of ideas!

Uggghh why are you like this?

Here in the real world, OP uses “positive discipline” with her child, and encourages other parents to consider it, particularly if your child is neuroatypical or asynchronous.  That said, JF should be punishing the crap out of both boys for this behavior every time it happens, or should quit being a clan leader.  He’s relying on Jiang Yanli to keep them in line while he gets to just be amused by them. And he’s letting Lan Qiren discipline Wei Wuxian instead of doing it himself. He suuuuuuucks. 

Lan Wangji watches all of this. Lan Xichen reminds Lan Wangji that without Wei Wuxian, he’s completely fucking miserable. Lan Wangji still doesn’t plan to bring him along on his trip, though.

Time to return to our lives of crushing loneliness

Rabbits

At this same moment when Lan Wangji is staring down the barrel of future loneliness, Wei Wuxian is already deciding to leave the (forbidden) rabbits in Cloud Recesses “In case Lan Zhan gets lonely.”  This small decision by Wei Wuxian - breaking the rules of Cloud Recesses for the millionth time - is kinder than he knows. Because what is the job of these rabbits? Let’s have a desaturated flashback. 

Lan Zhan spent 3 years in the ice cave. The rabbits kept Lan Yi company in the ice cave. So...did the rabbits sneak in to keep Lan Wangji company in the ice cave as well? I’m going to say yes. By ep 43 they are following him to the gate of Cloud Recesses so they are very attached to him.  Well done, Wei Ying.

Where my bitches at? Seriously, our warren needs bitches

(Is Watership Down still a thing people read? If not, just go ahead and assume all of OP’s rabbit jokes are about Watership Down because OP ain’t going to stop making them)

While Wei Wuxian annoys the bunny he has a flashback to the scene that happened 4 minutes earlier. The Untamed editors assume the viewership has the attention span of a goldfish, and I personally appreciate that they understand me so well.

Wei Wuxian figures out that Lan Wangji is going on the road alone, and tells the bunny immediately. The bunny is very concerned.

Writing Prompt: What do next-generation cultivators Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi wish for at lantern-lighting time?

[keyofjetwolf]

Oh boo-hoo, darkness, get over yourself, or, Rei Hino: Comfort Lesbian

We’ve been building to this for the past several episodes now, this moment where we finally get confirmation of all the turmoil Ami is feeling, about Usagi and about Naru and, especially, about herself. All of which is delicious and complex and everything I wanted but could hardly believe they’d give us. It’s not a good look for Ami! It’s angry and lonely and uncertain!

Ami especially, I think moreso than any other character across Sailor Moon iterations (character who actually gets screen/page time, anyway) is boiled until she’s lost most of her flavour. I think the anime tries hardest, but often replaces “the smart one” stereotypes for “the nice one” and calls it a day. For whatever reason, it’s like Ami’s an action figure they’re afraid to take out of the box because they might get her dirty and diminish her value.

Not PGSM, though. PGSM is just “AW YEAH LET’S PLAY” and pitched everyone in a mud puddle.

I AM ALIVE

I’ve talked about this again and again, how much SENSE this makes for Ami. Completely ostracized for her entire life, she’s got her first taste of what it means to not be alone, and she’s hooked. Usagi is like a drug for Ami, she’s the entire focal point for everything positive Ami’s feeling, and she’s terrified that without Usagi, she’ll go back to the way things used to be, and she CAN’T, she just can’t.

And she needn’t be! PGSM has gone out of its way throughout the series so far in showing us how much Ami has already grown and changed for the better. Fuck, look at just this scene! There’s something wonderful and precious about the bond between Ami and Rei. They’re each other’s first friend that they made THEMSELVES, using the things that they learned through their friendship with Usagi. Ami has reached out to Rei more than once, able to see through her stoicism and bluster and navigate through it (versus, say, Usagi just flat out ignoring it). She allows Rei to keep those defenses while still reaching for her, making Rei that much more willing to reach back.

Rei also sees Ami. She’s never been smitten a day in her life, and Rei isn’t inclined to throw every little questionable thing into the spin cycle until it comes out gleaming and perfect. Ami’s weird and awkward, but so what? She’s a good person, and she tries. Every single time Rei would rather deal with someone who tries too hard rather than not enough.

They can do this. AMI can do this. She HAS. Even in this scene, where she’s confessing to Rei, it’s abundantly clear how much stock she puts in Rei’s opinion. Particularly BECAUSE it’s Rei (really, it had to be Rei), who wouldn’t even know where to start trying to give someone an insincere platitude, Ami trusts what she says, and at no point in any of this, even at her lowest and most intense self-hating, does Ami think Rei isn’t her friend. The problem is that Ami has pinned so much on Usagi, and so little on herself. Usagi is the keystone; pull her out, and it all collapses.

Again, all of my love to PGSM for going here. For looking at Ami, really thinking about how broken her life would have made her, and being willing to follow that thread. She confirmed -- directly, in the text, by her own words -- everything I hoped we were building to.

INCLUDING THIS SORRY BRB HAVE TO RUN AROUND THE OFFICE SCREAMING AGAIN

There’s so much going on, Ami is having a fuck of a day, but this is perhaps the thing she’s most upset about: the realization that she might just be kind of a shitty person. There’s been nothing in Ami’s life that would have even hinted she could be like this. Hell, there’s basically BEEN nothing in Ami’s life before now. But here it is, she finally gets something worthwhile, and this is how she acts? No wonder she went without friends this long, if this is who she is. Usagi was just wonderful enough to try and see past it, that’s all, which only makes Ami feel even worse for “deceiving her”. God, what a beautiful inescapable spiral Ami’s built for herself, I’m almost impressed.

REI HINO IS NOT IMPRESSED

HHHHRNRNNNRRNGGGHHHGNNNNGHHHRR

SHE’S SO NOT HERE FOR ANY OF AMI’S BULLSHIT. Not the deep dark confession, not Ami eating herself up over it all. Ami’s barely started, and Rei’s already had enough.

Sidebar to say how much I fucking LOVE how they shoot all this. Rei’s angry stomp slicing across the camera, interrupting Ami’s efforts to drown herself in all this. Her angry clenched fist (A REI HINO FAVOURITE), the way the camera rises as it follow’s Rei’s towering presence. She carries so much authority in this scene, you can FEEL her and how little she is going to put up with all this. The way Ami gazes up at her, too, once again giving Rei all the power between them. It remains to be seen how much of this will stick, but what’s clear is that Ami will listen to Rei, and believe her, even if just for this moment.

The way Rei completely brushes all of Ami’s angst away though, AAAAAHHHHH I DIDN’T KNOW I COULD LOVE HER MORE BUT SHE ALWAYS MANAGES TO FIND A WAY TO MAKE ME. Ami’s completely undone by this, and Rei’s just “Psshh, whatever, this is entry level ‘dark’, get over yourself.”

But she also makes it an invitation. “Congrats! You’re human.” Ami’s sin here, if she could be said to have one, is in not dealing with it all very well, and she’s basically an emotional newborn, so even there, it’s understandable.

One of the best things about this, though, is how Rei is meeting Ami on much the same level Ami connected with Rei. Not ignoring how they feel, nor dismissing it, just accepting it and moving forward. We STILL don’t know why Rei was so bothered about going to that guy’s house to protect his not-the-ginzuishou, but Ami didn’t chase down the why or convince Rei it wasn’t a problem, she simply offered to go in her stead. Here, Rei doesn’t insist Ami is the purest pure snowflake gumdrop who would never think a bad thought in her life, she just says “Bitch, you ain’t special.” Usagi’s all-inclusive love is wonderful, and I don’t doubt the power of its constant dopamine hit, but it’s also in so many ways unrealistic and impractical (much like Usagi herself), and once again, I tip my hat to PGSM for being the ONLY Sailor Moon incarnation willing to go there for its main character, too.

(I don’t know if PGSM had a mission statement, but you could tell me it was “Each and every one of these girls is fascinating and wonderful AND DEEPLY FLAWED” and I would just nod in emphatic agreement.)

What about Rei’s darkness? I don’t know! THANK YOU FOR ADDING IN A BARELY RELATED MYSTERY. The specifics aren’t important right now, and maybe never will be. It’s Rei, she’s a constant bubbling cauldron of stewing rage, even here in PGSM where she’s able to keep it to a low simmer. It could be about her mother’s death, all the gossipy assholes, her father’s everything. It could be Usagi bumping into her this morning, IT COULD BE ALL OF THESE.

The point is, Rei knows all about thinking and feeling some negative shit at someone, but she also knows there’s a difference between what you feel and what you DO. You can’t truly be part of life and never fuck up, it’s just not possible.

AND NOW HERE’S WHERE REI SHOWS HOW MUCH SHE’S CHANGING TOO. Her point made, her lecture done, Rei peers down at Ami and sees that it’s just not working the way she wants. Rather than lose her temper, or double down, or wash her hands and walk away, she instead CHANGES TACTICS.

She doesn’t demand Ami immediately bounce to her feet, instead she drops down to Ami. She stops lecturing and tries comforting. NONE of this is natural for Rei, all of it goes against the kind of person she is and always strives to be. Slowly but surely though, Rei’s learning that her way is not the only way, and to temper her impulses.

WHO KNEW WE WOULD GET SUCH JUICY DEVELOPMENT FOR REI IN THE MIDDLE OF ALL THIS AMI GOODNESS WHO AMONG US COULD HAVE PREPARED FOR THE BOUNTY

Still though, Rei is Rei is my beautiful ridiculous marmoset Rei.

Blessed, friends. I am blessed this day.

[slashersins-abandoned]

someone like me

this was written for @idontevenknowanymoreatthispoint​

Bo’s reaches out , gripping your calf , nails digging into the skin there as he lets out a huff of laughter . You make a sobbing sound as he jerks you back from where you tried to crawl away from him . Who would’ve guessed something so small like you would put up such a fight . Bo would be lying if he said tonight’s hunt hadn’t been fun . He grip tightened harshly as he jerked you , pulling you towards him , lifting up to grin down on you , knife in his hand . “Sorry , darlin’ . Can’t get away from me , now .” He smirks down, moving his grip to your ankle so he can stand and drag you kicking and screaming back to that chair of his and tie you up . But no sooner did his fingers graze over the skin of your ankles did you let out a distressed noise and start clawing at his hands , desperately trying to get them off .

“Don’t look ! Don’t - Don’t look ! Don’t !” You’re voice held fear , panic , but not aimed at Bo . He glared down at you , taking your clawing fingers and gripping them tightly in his hand . This was fun , but he was losing his patience .

“Don’t what , darlin’ ? Don’t look at what ?” He sneered down , eyes drifting to your ankles , curiosity getting the best of him at your little fit . But he stilled at what he saw .

“ The fuck …” Thick raised pink scars littered your ankles . Cuts and slices that had been headed and torn open again and again . Scars that seemed so familiar . Dark eyes moved from your marred flesh to his own . They were nearly identical , a damn near perfect match . You’re ankles . His wrists . He breathed out slowly , dangerous eyes glinting as he shot a look to your face . Tear stained and wild eyes as you kept repeating “Don’t look . Don’t - Please don’t look .”

There’s a sharp sting in chest , a heavy weight in his stomach , a feeling of … He shakes his head , chasing away the feeling and letting his need to end your life take over . He smirks , running a thumb over your scars . You could have gotten them from anywhere . It didn’t matter . So why not tease you and make you cry more ? Why not regain his control over the situation ?

“Well , I guess you an’ me are both all scarred up . Did mommy give you these , too ?” He snickered cruelly , tugging your ankle and dragging you closer . He wanted to see you shake your head , or look at him with wide eyes that said those scars were just something you got as being a dumb little shit as a kid . He’s ready for you to cry out , to call for your momma like she could stop him from ending your life . He didn’t expect to see you hold your breath , almost terrified that he’d found out some dark secret . You don’t have to nod your head for Bo to see the truth .

His grip falters , eyes darken as those feelings he’d been trying to push away rise up in him . “Fuck .” He eyes the scars , seeing them next to his own and panting as anger starts to course through him , familiar and hot and blazing . His eyes seem to grow dazed as he stares at your matching scars .

The sound of someone walking into the shop draws his attention , looking up . The footsteps aren’t Vincent’s or Lester’s , and the frustrated call of a woman’s voice confirms his suspicions . He glares up for a moment , looking back only to see that you’ve stopped moving , stopped breathing , staring up in terror at the slots in the ceiling of his little lair . You’re terrified . More afraid of the woman bitching upstairs than of the man who currently has a knife in one hand and your leg in the other . It pisses him off in a way that he hasn’t ever been pissed before . He looks away from you before muttering curses under his breath .

He grabs your face , tugging you close as he glares with deadly intention . “Scream and I’ll gule those pretty little lips shut . You understand ?” You nod frantically , obediently as he tugs you up , tossing you over his shoulder . You don’t fight , instead clinging to the back of his coveralls and pressing your face into his spine . Every step he takes fills him with more and more of that twisting emotion . He hears his mother’s scolding shouts in the way your’s bitches up above them . He feels the duck-tape tighten on his wrists , he feels the need to thrash and scream and roar and . He sits you in the chair rougher than necessary , panting as he takes your face in his hands . Bo’s eyes are wild , searching your face for something , and it seems like he finds it . He mutter’s another low “fuck” before roughly pressing his thumb over your lips . “Not a sound .”

You nod frantically , wincing when you hear your mother let out a loud expletive and once again shout out to see if anyone was in this damn shop or not . Bo glances up briefly , taping tape and wrapping it around your wrists and the chair . You won’t be going anywhere . He tosses the tape to the makeshift bed a few feet away , putting his knife in his pocket and putting on his hat before leaving you alone . Only the light from the slits in the floor and the sound of Bo’s boots and your mother’s harsh curses keeping you company .

Bo’s hyper aware of how you could scream any moment . But the fear in your eyes , the pure and utter terror … you felt that your mother was more dangerous than him . And he hated that he could taste it in the air . That it reminded him of the same fear turned hatred he had for Trudy . You could scream , Bo knew it . But you wouldn’t , couldn’t . And that’s what he was counting on as he fixed his hat and opened the side door , forcing a smile on his lips as he stepped into the shop .

“Sorry ‘bout that . Had to go get some tools from -”

“How much longer until the car is fixed ? I’m tired of walking around this podunk town . Can you even fix it ? Or are you just wasting my time ?”

Bo’s smile flickers to a deadly look for a second before he raises his hands in the air , stepping closer , trying to give a reassuring smile despite the itching irritation in his chest . “I’ll have it out and ready for ya soon . Just gotta switch out a few parts an’ you’ll be good as new . No reason to get all mean , ma’am .”

There’s a movement behind the woman that catches Bo’s eyes . Vincent takes form in the shadows , knife glinting as he nods his head towards the woman . Bo gives a sharp shake no of his head , sending the woman a pointed look as she raves about how much time she’s wasting in this backwater town . Vincent gives a nod , standing in the shadows , ready to help his brother if need be .

“Are you even listening to me ? Hello !” Bo’s eyes snap to hers , his temper boiling over as he stands straighter , shoulder squared . The woman blinks , taking a step back before straightening herself and raising her chin . It makes Bo wanna slice that wrinkled as fuck neck of hers for offering it up so stupidly . “Don’t you try to intimidate me . Now fix my car you lazy bumpkin ! I’m not going to spend the night in this -”

“I think you best shut that mouth of yours . Think you’ve done insulted me enough and my town enough .” And that was the least of this bitch’s sins . His eyes flickered to the slits in the floor only to fill with utter disgust and rage as he looked back at her , stalking closer with a snarl on his face . “All this time you’ve been bitchin’ ‘bout your shitty car . Ain’t even asked if i’ve seen your little girl . Know you came in with ‘em . Skittish lil’ thing . Least when she was ‘round you .”

The woman opens her mouth , looking taken back , but Bo doesn’t let her speak . “You ain’t the type of momma to love her babies , are ya ? No , you’re the type of momma to make your babies scared . To hurt ‘em . To give ‘em scars that ain’t ever gonna fade . Ain’t ever been fond of mommas like you .”

He’s nearly panting , seething with rage . In this woman’s face he sees his own mother , see’s Trudy’s anger and shock . See’s the emotions he wished he could have seen on his mother’s face for all the suffering she caused him .

“Be a real shame … a real shame , if your baby girl had to keep livin’ in the same world as a bitch of a momma like you .”

She doesn’t have time to let the words sink in before Bo is flicking his knife open and lunging forward . Vincent watches from the shadows , understanding sinking over him as he watches his brother’s brutal attack , as he listens to the screams of pain fill the air . This one won’t be a wax figure , it’s fine by him . He’ll just have Lester come and dispose of the remains . He turns to leave his brother to his fury , only casting a curious glance to the slits in the floor before leaving to go back to his workshop under the house of wax .

You’re still , so still when Bo comes back down stairs . Eyes focused on the puddle of blood that drips the floor from the slits in the ceiling . Bo snaps his fingers in front of your face , glaring at you as you come to and look up at him with wide eyes . He looks over you , then to the puddle . Another curse falls from his lips as he stares at you . There’s no fight , just you sitting there , looking at him almost like a lost puppy . He runs his hand through his hair , huffing . “You’re a good girl for keeping your mouth shut .”

He clenches his teeth , taking out his knife and flipping it open . He doesn’t miss you flinch and tense as if you’re accepting that you’d be the next one killed by it . He felt his anger rise , but shoved it down as he slipped the knife under the duct tape and cut it . He pulled it off your skin , tossing it to the floor before grabbing your wrist and tugging you out of the chair . “Come on, I’m fuckin’ tired .”

He takes you up and out of the basement and then the shop . You keep your eyes focused on his back , not daring to look at the corpse on the ground . If anything you speed your steps up with his long strides , your other hand moving to grab on to his trying to stick close . If he notices how you try to all but press into him , he doesn’t say anything . He’s too busy thinking why the hell he was keeping you . If he should just off you . If he could even do that .

He tugs you through the streets to his house , not giving you time to stop and take in the home before he’s dragging you upstairs and tossing you on the bed . He stood over the bed , fingers flexing as his mind worked with how to handle this . You only righted yourself , trying your best to not hyperventilate . You didn’t know how to feel . He’d been trying to kill you . And for some reason he didn’t . Instead he … he saw your scars . He saw them and he got angry , and for once the anger wasn’t aimed at you . He’d killed your mother . His words echoing in your mind . The hatred and fury in his voice , the way it rose in volume and deepened in tone . His accent slurring thicker and thicker before he’d …

“Try to run or sneak out an’ I promise you that you’re gonna fuckin’ regret it .” Bo’s threat pulled you from your thoughts . You nodded at him , trying to convey without words that you wouldn’t do anything he didn’t want . Bo huffed , rolling the worn belt in his hands as he leaned forward , putting a knee on the bed as he used the old leather to wrap your hands together tightly . After a moment , he loosened it just a bit . Didn’t need your hands falling off . His eyes drifted to your ankles , unease settling in his gut as he took another belt and wrapped them around you , a bit more delicately than with your wrists . You wouldn’t get any more bruises or scars from this , at least .

“Go to sleep .” It’s the last thing he says before he turns off the lights and slams the door shut , stomping down the stairs . You sit in the bed for a while , staring at the light coming from under the door . You test your binds . You let your mind drift back to your earlier thoughts . He’d killed your mother . Maybe he’d planned on doing it anyway . Maybe if he’d never seen your scars he might have killed you too without a care . But … He had seen your scars . And he had killed your mother . It was strange . It was wrong . So utterly wrong that you felt so … relieved . You mother couldn’t hurt you anymore . And he’d done that for you . Tears welled in your eyes as you laid down , letting soft sobs leave you . Relieved . You were so relieved . You’d never felt so safe before .

Bo’s drinks . He curses himself , curses the this fucking night he’s had , curses his own rash decisions . He’s sprawled and pissed in his recliner when Vincent walks into the home , signing to him that Lester’s picked up the body and he’d cleaned the shop . Bo just glares and huffs , ignoring his twin the best he can as he clenches the half empty bottle in his hand . There are six others empty on the floor around him .

Vincent doesn’t let his elder brother get away with his fit . Squatting in front of him and giving him an even look , hands moving to ask him questions . Bo doesn’t want to answer , downing his last beer before tossing it on the floor with the others . Vincent doesn’t move , but he does see how Bo rubs over the scars on his wrists . Bo glares at his brother , giving a curse as he starts to spill about the entire fucking thing . Vincent is patient , listening , Bo’s words so slurred that he has to start signing , but even his movements are sloppy and if it wasn’t for the years he’d spent with his brother , he might not have been able to decipher what the man was saying .

In the end Vincent leaves Bo with a sigh , telling him to go to bed . Watching as his grumpy twin stands and stumbles up the stairs muttering under his breath . It seemed Bo had become rather attached , feeling a connection through similar abuse , towards you . And perhaps it would be good for him . He’d keep a close eye , watching how it played out . But maybe , Vincent thought , it would be a good idea for Bo to keep you around .

Bo managed to get up the stairs , getting into his room and stripping down to his boxers . You were sleeping , curled up on your side facing the wall . He stopped , looking down at you , staring hard before cruising and climbing into bed . He turned away from you , back to back . But his drunken mind wouldn’t get the look of fear off your face when you’d heard your mother . He couldn’t not think about the raised pink scars on your ankles . with a grunt he turned , glaring at your back .

You make a noise , distressed and curl in harder . Bo frowns , scooting closer and mummering for you to shut up , you’re fine now , ain’t no one gonna hurt you . Despite the roughness of his whispered voice it seems to settle you , and he isn’t sure how he feels about that . His hand moves to your ankle , fingers brushing under the belt keeping them together .

Bo works his fingers over the marred marks , brain cloudy with booze . “ Jus’ - Jus’ like me . Jus’ fuckin’ like me . Maybe - Maybe I should keep ya . Would ya like that ? Bein’ kept by a bastard like me ?” His words are slurred , eye  heavy . The alcohol in his system , the warmth of his bed , the sound of your breathing and slight scent of your shampoo lulling him to sleep as he keeps stroking the marks on your skin .

[wrienne]

My Cheating, Amnesic Fiancé

Chapter 11: Another Threat

“W-what?”

You stared at the tiny sliver of gold balancing between Yoongi’s fingers. You couldn’t believe what was happening. How the heck had Jungkook’s ring gotten into his possession?

“It was a simple question.” He stopped you before you could reply. “And don’t try to lie to me. I can see through shit like that.”

“How did you find out?” you asked as your grip tightened around the handle of the duffel bag and the computer bag. “Did he tell you?”

“Not exactly,” he answered. “I overheard an argument he had with his parents some time ago, talking about wanting to cancel ‘the marriage’. Although I wasn’t sure who he was supposed to marry against his will…” Yoongi looked pointedly at your currently naked finger. “I saw the ring on your finger yesterday. It makes too much sense considering your strange relationship and the time of the accident for all to be a mere coincidence. So tell me: when were you telling us about you and Jungkook’s engagement?”

“Where did you get that?” you asked instead, pointing at the band. “Did you steal it from him?”

“I would never steal,” he said sharply, reacting for the first time since you had met him. “I was in charge of washing our clothes once when I discovered it in his pocket. It was before he had met Park Yi-Jae, so don’t try to give me that explanation.”

You swallowed your words. You didn’t know what to say.

“Does she know?”

You shook your head.

“Did you know about her?”

You felt your jaw clench instinctively in anger. Yoongi raised a brow. “You didn’t. Huh. So that’s the private subject you couldn’t disclose and what you and Jungkook fought about yesterday.”

“Move aside,” you demanded as you tried to assume a neutral expression. You couldn’t believe he was reading through you as easily as that. “I have to get back to Jungkook.”

“Not yet,” he told you. “You haven’t answered my questions.”

“You have no right to any of the answers,” you said coolly. “And you have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone.”

“Do you know why he stayed with you?”

“No,” you said instantly. “There’s not a minute that goes by without me asking myself: Why would that bastard decide to deceive both of our parents and me? Why remain engaged to me when he loves another girl?” You narrowed your eyes. “Why ask? Isn’t this an obvious frame of mind?”

“Who am I to presume what you might or might not consider,” he said simply, then took a step closer to you. He lowered his voice. “Now, the rest of them might believe your tear-jerker, but I think it’s shit. There is something you want from Jungkook, isn’t it? That’s why you’re helping him.”

“No,” you began, “as I just explained--”

“People aren’t like that,” interrupted Yoongi. He wore an expressionless guise, and even his eyes and tone were inscrutable. “They don’t help someone purely at the goodness of their hearts and childhood cotton clouds. As for the reason why Jungkook chose to stay with you even when he has a girlfriend…” He snorted. “Are you really so naive you cannot see the blatant answer?”

You inhaled sharply but didn’t respond. You were doing your best not to drop the duffel bag and the computer and just swing at him.

Min Yoongi’s gaze hardened. “It’s for your name and money, Einstein.”

“Never,” you said venomously. “Do you really have so little trust in your own group member? In Jungkook? Don’t you know at least how proud he is? He would never stoop to that level.”

“Perhaps not. But he doesn’t really have a say in the marriage, does he? Think (Y/N), you attend a SKY university, so you ought to have at least some brain capacity. Who else would be able to have access to your family vault?”

“His parents,” you realized breathlessly. “His father, to be more exact.”

You couldn’t deny the truth of his words. Jungkook’s father had never been good with money and was far too fond of the bottle for someone who often ran into major economic predicaments. But why would your parents allow it to happen? What would they gain from you marrying Jungkook?

And perhaps the most important question: How and what did Min Yoongi know about Jungkook’s parents? Jungkook wasn’t the personal, talkative type. He wouldn’t have shared such delicate details of his upbringing with anyone. Right?

“Solved the mystery, did we?” He brushed some invisible dirt off his shoulders. “You can thank me after you’ve answered the rest of my questions.”

“Get out of my way.” You had too many thoughts fuddling your mind to be polite or try to be diplomatic. “I will scream if you don’t.”

Yoongi held your eyes for a moment before he tsked in annoyance and allowed you to step past. You were practically running out of the room, and only barely caught the last of a sarcastic: “--nice evening.”

Jimin stood in the kitchen washing dishes together with Taehyung, while Namjoon and Hoseok sat at the table reading off the master list. Seokjin was nowhere to be seen, and you guessed he probably was in one of the bathrooms. Music played in the background, only slightly louder than the sound of running water and the clinking and clanking of pots, plates and cutlery. It was like stepping into a whole different world compared to the unfriendly tension you had experienced with Yoongi.

Hoseok had lighted up when he spotted you, but his eyes rounded when he saw your face. Fortunately, you managed to speak first.

“I really need to get to the hospital,” you said, hoping you didn’t sound half as furious as you were.

“Here’s the list,” said Namjoon hesitantly, since he also saw your expression.

“Thanks. And thank you again for the food.”

You took the paper and folded it into your back pocket. Jimin’s initial smile fell when he met your gaze, though Taehyung simply furrowed his brows in confusion and glanced toward the room you frankly had escaped.

“I’ll leave now,” you said hurriedly before anyone could comment on your obviously upsetting conversation with Yoongi. “Goodbye.”

Their united farewell followed you as you ambled down the hallway. You did your best not to look behind you, but you felt his dark, knowing eyes drilling into your back.

This wasn’t the last you had seen of Min Yoongi.

You were putting on your shoes when a door almost swung into your face. It was becoming a bad habit, but as you skittered out of the way, you couldn’t help but yelp in surprise. Stepping out of the bathroom was Seokjin, who strangely wore a jacket and gave you a curious look.

“I figured I could help carry down the stuff,” he told you, then pointed at a few canvas bags slumped against the shelves. “Those are Jungkook’s favorite shoes. You should probably take them with you as well, if only because he bought all himself.”

You and Seokjin stood in the descending elevator when you texted Jong-Yeol to come and pick you up. But as the two of you waddled out of the building carrying Jungkook’s belongings - Seokjin having offered to carry significantly more, an offer which you gracefully refused - you found that Jong-Yeol was already directly outside.

“Thank you for the help,” you said after Seokjin and Jong-Yeol had filled up the trunk. “I didn’t realize how much I had stolen from Namjoon until I tried lifting the bag up, and by then, all of his clothes were buried underneath Jungkook’s.”

“Typical,” said Seokjin with a laugh. “It’s really no effort, though.”

“Still, thanks,” you said as you opened the car door. “Let’s buy some takeaway first,” you told Jong-Yeol. “Jungkook’s probably starving.”

Jong-Yeol hurried around the side of the car to get into the driving seat. “Chinese?”

“Hmm, no. Fried chicken.”

“Before you leave, (Y/N)...”

Halfway into the car, you stopped and glanced over your shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Take care of Jeon Jungkook on behalf of all six members,” said Seokjin solemnly, his gaze trailing the ground. “And feel free to contact us whenever you need help or whatever. I’ll message Sejin-manager and tell him he should give you our numbers at the hospital.”

“He’s already given me all of your numbers,” you said with a smile. “I can send my KakaoTalk ID to you later tonight if you want, since it’s cheaper that way.”

Kim Seokjin smiled, too. “That would be convenient. Bye, (Y/N).”

He helped you with the car door, and then you were off. As much as you still boiled inside due to Min Yoongi and the situation he both had established and stirred up, you knew you couldn’t show distress in the face of Jungkook. He needed you strong, dependable, now more than ever.

Besides, it wasn’t as if you could ask him about the reason and dynamic of the engagement on his part. He was amnesic.

And perhaps that was for the better.

It was a fifteen-minute drive to the nearest fried chicken shop due to traffic. It took another fifteen for you to get to Asan Medical Center, which on the other hand was fortunate considering the number of cars filling the streets. You managed to get your emotions under control, even though the question kept brewing in the back of your mind.

What was the reason your parents wanted you to marry Jungkook so direly?

After checking the time on your phone and saying bye to Jong-Yeol, you jogged through the hospital toward Jungkook’s room. In your purse were a pair of fresh jeans and a t-shirt you had picked out at random from the duffel bag, and in your left hand, you held the chicken that was surprisingly yet warm. You knew he was the combination of brave, proud and stupid to never go back on his words. And since he so foolishly had proclaimed that he wouldn’t let himself be fed, you had decided upon fried chicken, which didn’t really need cutlery of any sort.

You were a bit anxious, not knowing what state he could possibly be in, but as you opened the door to his room and spotted him in his bed, surrounded by Kim Sejin, a woman in doctor’s robe and--

Park Yi-Jae. She was sitting quietly in a chair pulled up next to Jungkook’s bed, watching him. Her eyes narrowed when you burst through the door.

“(Y/N)! Finally!”

Jungkook blatantly pointed at you. “She’s the one,” he told the doctor eagerly. “I cannot remember anyone but her."

You noticed Yi-Jae and Sejin cringe, though both out of different reasons. Sejin looked hurt, while Yi-Jae stared pleadingly at Jungkook. He ignored both.

He only saw you.

You tried not to flush with embarrassment as the female doctor scrutinized you from head to toe. She was in her mid-thirties, short and had cut her black hair to shoulder-length, though it was loosely tied just above her neck currently. The doctor readjusted her glasses then held up a blue plastic clipboard slightly.

“Then perhaps you might be more helpful handling him,” she said. Her voice reminded you a bit of your mother’s, sharp and quick, though lower and more pleasant to the ears.

“We’ll leave (Y/N) to it, then. Come,” said Sejin and carefully touched Yi-Jae’s shoulder when she didn’t respond.

“No, I can’t leave him,” she protested, her tone trembling. “Not again. Only a terrible person would leave his or her beloved when they’re in a state such as this. I will rise above anything he might say, because the fact is, he simply doesn’t know better. And maybe I can help, too.”

Yi-Jae reached out and curled her fingers around Jungkook’s. His focus shifted slowly from you to her as she spoke.

“Do you really not feel or remember anything?” she asked him, the desperation making her voice hoarse. You could see tears lining her eyes and almost had to look away. It was too raw, too painful. “It’s me, Jungkook. My name is Park Yi-Jae. We met last year on a music show and you told me on our first date that you had never seen anyone more beautiful than I in your whole life. You have made me laugh every day on KakaoTalk since and we always made time to video chat whenever we were apart. The first time I told you I loved you was on Christmas Eve when you sang that little tune for me while we were out walking late at night. I told you last week I could imagine spending the rest of my life with you. You simply cannot have forgotten all of this, Jungkook, my honey.”

For a long moment, it was quiet in the room. You watched the tears roll down Park Yi-Jae’s slightly rosy cheeks and couldn’t help but think that she was one of the prettiest girls you had ever seen. Even while crying, she was prettier than you thought it fair for anyone to be.

Briefly, you thought Jungkook might have remembered something, that the almost ludicrous way of restoring his memories worked and had started just then and there - through reminding him of his love for Yi-Jae. While talking, she had leaned so close to him they could almost kiss. His brown, familiar large eyes were holding hers, silently observing, and he didn’t move away. But then, and in a tone you prior to then had only ever heard him use with you, Jungkook replied without twitching even an eyebrow.

“Don’t touch me.”