#bro I was figuring out so many brushes and I had no idea how to use them

[demonidoodles]

🌟 Into the Maytrapverse 🌟

First attack for @maytraparts !!! All characters are theirs !!!

Unfiltered Ver. on the read more

#artfight 2023 #artfight #artfight attack #not my ocs #fanart #mi amigos #this was kinda sorta rushed cuz I got anxious of not attacking anything the past couple of days #but it’s fine cuz I finished it anyways !!!! >:)) #I HOPE UR HAPPY MAY I TRIED TO GATHER ALL UR ANOMALIES #tw eyestrain #bro I was figuring out so many brushes and I had no idea how to use them

[pyromegalomaniac]

You can not tell me Wally won’t be a real bro for his friends if he found out reader has a crush on a certain someone.

Like Wally catch reader staring at someone for a long time with a soft smile on their face and Wally like “you like them don’t you”

And right there Wally turning into reader’s and his friend’s wing man

“Hey that friend there , they love home baked goods”

“Oh yeah random fact reader loves this color “

Wally just trying to play matchmaker

Ooooh, anon! This idea!! So very!! I like wingman Wally very much... I hadn't even thought of this!! Just one of the perks of doing these requests, you get so many fan interpretations and headcanons and whatnot... here's your headcanons anon!! Enjoy!!

(♡˙︶˙♡)

Welcome Home x Reader + Wingman/Matchmaker Wally Headcanons🏠☀️🛼🦴🍪🐛📨🦋🍎

Sally☀️

Wally suggesting you be cast as the lead in her plays

Trying to subconsciously convince her to do a romantic play

Setting you up on a stargazing date

Suggesting you write poetry for her

"Hey Sally I think y/n would love to hear you recite what you've been working on"

One day while you three were all outside a sudden burst of rain came down and Wally kinda ran off (he hates getting wet) but he noticed you and Sally still having fun while he was cowering under a tree or something

Julie🛼

Playing games together

Drawing with sidewalk chalk

Wally inviting you both over for a sleepover and rushing off to go do things like make popcorn to leave you alone

Probably brushing each others' hair at said sleepover

"I bet y/n can't beat you in this game"

Barnaby🦴

"Y/n likes x hotdog toppings, don't you, y/n?"

"Y/n's favorite kind of joke is x type. You should tell them some of those!"

Lounging around together

Falling asleep in a nice warm pile

Waking up and wondering where Wally went

Oh well... sleeping with Barnaby is cozy and now you have him all to yourself

Poppy🍪

Baking together

Wally telling her how brave you are

"Y/n's favorite type of baked good is x, why don't we make them some?"

Making cookies in cute shapes

Poppy getting anxious about something and Wally suggesting she ask you for advice

Howdy🐛

Hanging out with Wally and he suddenly remembers he's out of something, so he asks to visit the bugdega

Wally asking you to pick something up for him at the bugdega

Howdy mentioning it getting tough to work all day by himself so Wally suggests he ask you for help next time you come in

Eddie📨

Wally sending you mail so Eddie has an excuse to go to your house

Eddie eventually recognizing your handwriting and stamps

"Why don't you write a letter to Eddie"

"Oh, you said you've been to x place, haven't you? Y/n has been there too"

Doing crafts together and Wally purposefully holding back his art skills so Eddie will like yours

Frank🦋

Wally suggesting the same books to you both

"Y/n's favorite bug is x"

Lowkey trying to be annoying so he'll think you're better to hang out with (this may or may not work)

"Y/n had a question about this... why don't you meet them to discuss it?"

Looking at the buggies together (Wally would probably disappear like the Barnaby hcs)

Wally🍎

He'd be the last one to notice you having a crush on him

Thinking you need someone nice to be with and trying out each possibility in his head

Really wondering why no one seems to be a good match (everyone else can see the obvious crush you have)

Eventually you'd tell him or he'd figure it out and be like

"...Oohhhhhhhhh. I like you too y/n!"

Those are the headcanons I came up with! Hope you like them anon, thanks for requesting them!! They were fun to do!! I look forward to doing more in the future!! Much love!!

ヽ(>∀<☆)ノ

#pyro does requests #pyro writes #pyro does headcanons #wally darling #wally darling x reader #wally darling x reader headcanons #sally starlet #sally starlet x reader #sally starlet x reader headcanons #julie joyful #julie joyful x reader #julie joyful x reader headcanons #barnaby b beagle #barnaby b beagle x reader #barnaby b beagle x reader headcanons #poppy partridge #poppy partridge x reader #poppy partridge x reader headcanons #howdy pillar #howdy pillar x reader #howdy pillar x reader headcanons #eddie dear #eddie dear x reader #eddie dear x reader headcanons #frank frankly #frank frankly x reader #frank frankly x reader headcanons

[jeon-ify]

that night- j. yunho- pt. 4 (teaser)

a/n: hello! what are our thoughts so far? this is a part 4 teaser cus im on writers block so enjoy this

warnings: sad!yunho, supportive!mingi, making out?, yeosang, wooyoung and seonghwa make an appearance !! that’s it. lmk if i missed anything

genre: drama, romance

enjoy!

—————————————————————————————

yunho can’t remember the last time he had fun. he also can’t remember the last time he smiled.

there yunho was, putting on the black shoes you got him 7 years ago for his birthday, finally putting them to use. he slid on the dust brushed shoes, alongside a black button-up that hugged his figure so beautifully, almost making the buttons seem as though they’ll burst.

he buttoned his slacks, sprayed his tobacco vanille cologne and headed out the front door of his home.

he felt like he needed a drink before he’d be social again— not making any friends or conversations other than his best friend mingi.

he pulled out of his driveway and into the parking lot of the night club down the street front your home. he passed by your home many times, tempted to come home to you and lay with you.

his phone rings, reading ‘mingi’ on the caller ID.

“yo, where are you? are you not coming?” he yells. the music masked by laughter and heavy chatter filling yunhos speaker.

“i don’t know man, that isn’t my scene.” yunho hesitates. he’s parked outside of your apartment, watching how your lights occasionally turn off and on throughout the night. he sees your door close as you leave. he ducks his head and whispers to mingi, in hopes that you won’t see him.

“man you have 10 minutes. get your ass over here.” the phone call comes to an end, yunho’s eyes filled with tears. he doesn’t want to leave where he most belongs. he finds a home within you, but you really don’t know where you stand, whether it be with yunho or yourself.

driving away, yunho gives into going to the party mingi wants him so bad to come to. maybe it’ll get his mind off you.

he arrives after 8 minutes exactly, tears dry around the corners of his almond eyes. he walks into the party, greeted by 3 of his high school friends at once. the first one has sharp eyes, a muscular build and very pale skin. the second one being the loudest of the bunch, and the third being honey-toned with a slim figure, who looks like Toothless.

“yunho— woah, are you high, bro? the fuck did you take?” wooyoung asks. after 6 years of not seeing his friend, that was the hello yunho was greeted with.

“ignore him. how have you been? how are things with you and y/n?” seonghwa pulls him in for a hug, as he questions with no idea as to what brought yunho to this party tonight— getting his mind off of what he did to you.

yunho scoffs, holding in everything he wants to say, but deciding he’d rather sweep it under the rug. though he wants to so badly talk about it, he doesn’t want to hear any more of the ‘oh you fucked up’ or ‘you’re insane’ or ‘why would you do that’.

yeosang just watches, waiting for his turn to greet his friend. as he continues to greet him, yunho spots mingi in a crowd, motioning for him to come over to the area mingi was standing in— crowded with people none of them knew. yunho took this as a chance to finally let himself go for just tonight.

“you’re here! guys, this is my best brother, yunho. yunho went through a traumatizing breakup a while ago and is trying to get his mind off things.” he spills his friend’s story to strangers, though it makes yunho feel at ease, knowing that mingi was there for him.

“mingi… who is that?” yunho has to triple check to make sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him. he sees a woman with the prettiest hair, the keychain hanging from the black purse he vividly remembers at your apartment. he also sees black heels that belonged to you years ago.

what are you doing here?

#kpop smut #ateez #kpop #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez smut #yunho fic #yunho fanfic #yunho scenarios #yunho x reader #yunho fluff #jeong yunho #yunho #ateez yunho #mingi ateez #mingi fluff #ateez mingi #mingi scenarios #ateez wooyoung #yeosang #seonghwa

[potol0ver]

MC with DID

DID; Dissociative Identity Disorder, a disorder characterized by the presence of two or more personalities, usually formed as a result from trauma to avoid harmful memories.

A/N; I have DID and my brain keeps wanting to write headcannons about the bros and everyone else with an MC with DID- so this is what this post is! It’s extremely self indulgent but I’ll try my best to involve as much of the differences of personal accounts with DID as possible.

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

They’d all feel surprised by a condition like that. It would be a thing that’s more frequent in humans and very rare in angels and demons, they’d probably even show differently to, so needless to say they’re all intrigued in their own way.

All of them will probably ask about your alters, how many there are, how frequent (if at all) you switch alters, what personalities each alter has, etc.

Lucifer and Satan would definitely see the similarities of DID with the birth of Satan. Which leads to both of them shivering with the thought of being stuck in the same body as each other.

But for that reason they’d both feel like they have a deeper connection with you, even if it’s not the same, it’s similar enough to bond over it.

Levi and Satan would definitely find characters in their respective fiction stories that look/act like your alters.

Asmo would give your alters different wardrobes, makeup looks, and nail arts. He hast to make sure you all know he loves each and every one of you equally!

Beel would test you and see which alter likes different foods, he even makes it a game to see which alter is fronting just by what you eat.

Belphie would be the chillist, it’s not like he doesn’t care about you, he just takes it as “oh cool, that’s something I didn’t know, whatev’” although he would secretly pick up on the voice changes between your alters, even if they’re subtle. He’d even figure out which alters they belong to and call you by that alter name, just to tease you a little bit.

Mammon would brush it off as no big deal, which it truly isn’t to him, but he’ll make it his life goal to know which alter is fronting when ever he’s near you. Like it’s his right of passage as your “first”, it’s honestly just a sweet gesture. He will get mad that Belphie picked up in the voices faster than he did tho-

Satan it’d probably be a thing he didn’t realize could happen and now he’s deep diving in book and over all knowledge about DID, he hast to know! It’s intrigues him so much, besides his human has it, that’s enough reasoning for him. I can see him getting slightly worried about what MC went through to have this, but overall impressed by how resilient the human brain is.

Barbatos, Diavolo, and Simeon would think the same. They’d all secretly praise you and maybe even look up to you about how strong you are. (All if them would but these three especially.)

Luke, he’d want to draw all of your alters, no matter what they look like, and if it’s take awhile because of how many there might be. In the end you’ll have the drawings pinned on your wall collage style.

Solomon probably heard about it at one point or another, but never really looked into it. He’d become like a walking question air. He means it respectfully of course, he also wonders if it’ll have affect on your magic. Well now he knows what your next lesson will be.

All of them would help you remember stuff, I know for me I forgot small every day stuff, like the last time I showered, or if I had eaten. So they’d all remind you, maybe even have you write down when you’d last eaten and stuff on a note pad you carry around to help you. (If you’re ok with that idea of course. Knowing me I’d lose it 24/7)

If you have little alters, they’d love them to. Lucifer, Barbatos, and Simeon’s more paternal sides come out with them and definitely become a sort of parental figure towards them. Mammon would be the protective older brother towards them, Beel and Belphie would be the chill siblings to them, always down to cuddle and happily snack with them. Satan would read them books, Asmo would dress them up, and Levi would find games they both can play.

If you switch rapidly/out of no where, they’d all at first a little startled at how out of no where it could be, but it quickly falls into the normal. If you’d forget stuff between the switches, they’ll rewind a little and continue the convo like nothing happened.

Let’s be honest, there’s such a wide range of people here that your alters would come out more with certain people. So they’d all at one point realize this when you’re talking rather profoundly with Mammon and Levi, then on a dime acting similarly to Barb when he, Dia, and Lucifer come around. They’d all try to figure out which alter hangs around them more.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me luficer #obey me mc #obey me shall we date mc #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me Diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke

[jesseevelann]

Do you have many akatsuki headcanons other than Obito?

I headcanon Hidan being kind of a music nerd. Like during his teenage years he looked into instrument and different kinds of music (he'd like rock or metal the most, or just intense energetic music that'd be played at parties or raves or something). If he had the time or opportunity, he'd play the guitar really damn well. It also adds to that scene where Kakuzu, Konan and Itachi go to make him join, where he asks them if they're in a band. Trying to figure out who'd be good for what instrument seems pretty fitting if he had a passion for it.

I can also see him being kinda into literature. He prefers writing, to get things exactly how be wants them, but he'd read a little bit before he learns his writing style. It'd be horror, It'd be his favourite genre out of everything, and he'd be really into gorey descriptions. The kind of stuff that makes you so vividly imagine it in your head. I like the idea that on the outside, when he's around other people, he's psychotic. Hyper in a way, very vulgar and rude, but when he's alone he becomes so quiet and mellow because there's just no reason to be extra in the comfort of his own room. As much comfort as you can get in a cheap bed in a hideout full of people that hate you and you hate back.

Deidara I imagine being a big fan of sleeping. He loves being warm and cozy and sleeping from 12am to 12pm, even more if he can. Living in Iwa, which I imagine is a pretty warm place, would be kinda perfect for this because he doesn't need as many blankets to encapsulate himself in warmth. But, being so used to the warmth he'd suffer in the cold, and I doubt Kakuzu is going out of his way to install heating into the hideout during winter or get extra blankets. This would probably lead to deidara having to where to sets of clothes and probably his cloak just to be able to fall asleep for a small amount of time. He's just that sensitive. Tobi would give Deidara his blanket and anything else to keep him warmer when he joins, so Deidara still performs well during missions and because he doesn't actually need them. A man that covers his full body in probably pretty thick clothing during all months probably doesn't have much issues with hot or cold weather.

I can also see Deidara being into music as well. He'd have a bit of a similar taste to Hidan, with rock music. He'd love drums and the almost explosive sound they can have. But I can also see him liking certain pop songs, stuff with a lot of energy that stimulates his mind a lot. If he needed to focus, I could see him liking older sort of songs like out of touch or maneater, that gets kinda pushed away from modern songs.

I think both of them would be pretty into video games. I see Hidan going down the route of games like Dark Souls, Sekiro and Nioh, while Deidara is more of a Harvest moon, Animal Crossing kind of guy. He hates the horror genre and can't handle the sort of games Hidan likes, but they find common ground in games like Mario and Super Smash Bros. which they'd play together to kill boredom if it struck hard enough.

I think Deidara would also get pretty frustrated with how thick his hair is. He'd like the length, but he'd hate how knotty and hard to brush it is. I could see him cutting it super short at least one, but it grew back really quickly so it was barely noticable after a year or two. He'd hate washing it because of how long it takes to get the shampoo and conditioner into it, I doubt he'd have the patience to do much hair care outside of washing it to get rid of dirt, dust and dandruff.

That's all I can think of

#jesse answers #hidan #hidan naruto #deidara #deidara naruto #the akatsuki #naruto #naruto shippuden #headcanons

[trashywormeateroffics]

The right universe.

Summary: After Y/N's life turns upside down, she's full of grief. Somehow, one day, she manages to travel to the MCU, where she meets her favorite characters, including a certain god who seems willing to establish a friendship with her. Suddenly she's enwrapped in this new world, where everything she loved in a screen is now reality. How will she react? Will she be able to deal with the ghosts that haunt her? Or will she let them consume her? Will she be open to accept the love she is offered? Read to find out!

Read this on AO3! 

Category: F/M.

Relationships: Loki/reader.

Characters: Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Sam Wilson (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes, Vision (Marvel), Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Stephen Strange, Nick Fury, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Thor (Marvel), Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Peter Parker, other minor appearances of other characters but these are the main ones, Pepper Potts, Loki (Marvel).

Additional tags: Loki/reader - Freeform, Avenger Loki (Marvel), Loki & Tony Stark Friendship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Fluffyfest, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Pining a lot because we love to suffer, Domestic Avengers, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is a parental figure, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Everyone is a good bro, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, y/n, After Infinity War but no one died and the purple bitch was defeated, Missions, Y/N is a universe traveller, Grief, Therapy, Protective Loki (Marvel), Loki in love.

MASTERLIST OF THE STORY

Chapter 10: Do you think I'm cool?

Y/N was currently walking down the street with a nervous god by her side. They were heading to Peter's high school to pick him up, since she had asked him to join. It was the first time he was out of the compound since he arrived, and some people were staring, unable to let go of the events that took place here under his army's force a few years ago. It had been a few weeks since their first training session, and they had gotten more close.

“I told you this was not a good idea.” He said, glancing at her. She was about to say something, but thought better of it. It was probably hard to have so many people hate you for a mistake of your past, one that you didn't completely choose. So what she did was the best idea she could think of. Loki was surprised when she took his hand, but didn't pull away, instead interlacing their fingers together. She gave him a squeeze, letting him know that she was there, that he wasn't alone facing this, and when he looked at her, Y/N smiled softly at him.

Soon enough they arrived at the school, right when the kids were pouring out of the big doors. Peter saw them and started running towards them, but he fell to the floor due to a leg getting in the way.

“You should be more careful where you step Penis Parker!” A boy said, surrounded by his friends, who were all laughing at a humiliated Peter.

“Hey!” Y/N came closer to them, letting go of Loki's hand and helping the spider-teen up.

“Ooh, looks like Penis needs his girlfriend to protect him.” The boy said mockingly.

“I'm sorry, do you think that you're funny? With what? That 2010's humor?” She asked him, her tone getting more angry by the second. “You're a poor excuse for a bully, not even good jokes...” She said, shaking her head.

“And who are you?” He said, frowning in annoyance.

“Y/N,” she answered.

“I don't even know who you are.” The boy said, dismissing her.

“Keep being an asshole and you will.” Y/N said, a sickening sweet smile on her face.

“Am I supposed to be scared?”

“You can do whatever you want, all I'm telling you is that if you continue to test my patience and bother him, I will not hesitate in gutting you like a fish and stuffing your mouth with the remains of your organs.”

“Ooh, an empty threat. So scary.” Grabbing the knife she had strapped on her hip and looking straight into his eyes, she threw it, the knife sinking exactly into the toe of his shoe, brushing his fingers.

“Is that a tangible enough threat for you?” She asked, smiling sweetly.

“H-hey! We were just kidding…” He raised his hands in surrender and when Y/N didn't make a move towards him, he signaled to his friends with his head, all of them leaving.

She turned around to a shocked Peter and, surprisingly, an equally as shocked Loki.

“That was so cool!” The spider-boy said and she laughed breathily.

“Come on, I'm hungry.” She told him and the three of them headed to a place she knew all too well.  

                                              --------------------------

“And did you see Flash's face when the knife hit his foot? And the way she threw the knife, it was awesome!” Peter said to Loki, who just stared at him agreeing but silently, not that he needed to speak, since the spider-child was doing all the talking while Y/N was ordering their shawarmas, a vegetarian one for her.

A few minutes later, she arrived at the table with a tray.

“This one's for you, Itsy Bitsy…” She said handing a wrapped paper with something inside to Parker, “This one's for you Lokie Dokie, and this one's for me!”

“Lokie Dokie?”

“Your name is so great for nicknames, I can't help myself!” She said, making him smile and roll his eyes.

“Can I call you Lokie Dokie too Mr. Loki?” Peter asked but before he could deny the kid, Y/N interrupted him.

“Of course you can, he would love it!” She knew he wouldn't love it, but she loved teasing him and he knew that, so he didn't say anything. “So, what were you two talking about?”

“The spiderling here has been gushing about how cool you are.”

“Ooh,” she sang. “Do you think I'm cool Loki?” He rolled his eyes.

“Beyond the fact that the word is not a part of my daily lexicon, yes, you were very cool.”

“Ha! He thinks I'm cool.” She said to Peter, who laughed with her.

“I said were.”

“Yeah sure Lokie Dokie.” Parker said, making Y/N laugh and eventually making Loki, reluctantly at first, join in too.

                                               -----------------------

Loki decided to join dinner with the team, the word decided loose, since Y/N dragged him there much to his annoyance.

“I'm tired of you eating alone in your room every day, you are coming to dinner with the rest of the people!” She had said.

“I do not eat alone, you are there.”

“Yeah yeah, you are not going to sweet talk me out of this Lokes.”

And that's how he found himself in this situation. Eating in an uncomfortable silence next to Y/N, with the rest of the Avengers, who suddenly were as quiet as if a mouse had eaten their tongues.

“Okay everyone, I was thinking,” Y/N began. “What if we get a dog? Or a cat? Ooh a cat would be lovely! So tiny and adorable, little meow meow.”

“Absolutely not.” Tony said.

“But guys…” She drew out. Everyone else chuckled.

“Y/N, with all the missions, who is going to take care of the animal?” Bruce asked.

“Well, I still don't go on missions, and we are a lot of people, but if the situation ever presents itself where no one is here to take care of the cat, Fury will. Or Maria. Or May, Peter already told me she has no problem.”

“You already asked?” Tony inquired.

“Um, yes and I may have also called a vet and I may have also booked an appointment after we adopt the cat for tomorrow at five pm.” She said, sheepishly. “But, of course, if it's a definite no, I can cancel it. But I would really love it if it was a yes.” Y/N added quickly.

Everyone seemed to think about it and she did the puppy dog eyes, which always cracked Tony out of all of them.

“Stop that.”

“I'm not doing anything…”

“Tony,” Nat said, “cats are great company, and Y/N will be responsible, you know that.” She looked at her friend with a wink and she smiled. Tony sighed in resignation.

“Fine. But you take care of it.”

“Yes!” She put a fist in the air in celebration. “Thank you GeniusBillionairePlayboyPhilanthropist!” She said, putting all the words together and making everyone laugh and roll their eyes.

                                                   -------------------------

Walking down the hall with the god, she told him:

“I'm getting a cat Loki!” He smiled at her, only because he found her excitement adorable, even though he did not understand what all the fuss was about for a simple midgardian pet.

“Do you have a name for it yet?” He asked.

“I don't know, I have names but I think when I see them I'll know.” He hummed and she turned around to face him, since they arrived at her door. “Will you come with me?”

“Me? In a shelter... of animals?”

“Yeah… you, the fearsome God of Mischief in a shelter, adopting a cat. How does it sound?”

“It sounds… nice.” He said truthfully. It did, it was a normal thing, a kind thing to do, to adopt an animal in need of a home. And to do it with her, the first real friend he has had in more than a millenia, a wonderful friend honestly, was just… perfect. “I'm looking forward to it.”

“Me too!” She responded excitedly and in the heat of the moment wrapped her arms around him. He stilled and that's when she realized what she had done. “I-I am so sorry Loki. I didn't mean to-”

“It's alright.” He interrupted, he was not angry, but was too shocked to even think about saying anything more. “I will see you tomorrow mortal, sleep well.” And with that, he turned around and left.

Once in his room, his thoughts were overwhelming. He did not despise the hug, it was just strange. The only one who hugged him was always his mother and it had been a long time since he last saw her, and Thor perhaps, but it was that bone-crushing embrace that he hated. Y/N's embrace was soft, but tight. She was hugging him with intention, but not enough to hurt him. Would she think that he did not like it? Or perhaps that he was upset with her? That was what worried him the most. He had known Y/N for a bit now, and even though they didn't tend to talk much about it, she was a very apologetic person. Sometimes much much more than necessary. And it was just as hard for her to express her emotions as it was for him, their difference lying in her being more open with people and him being closed off. So her hugging him was a lot for Y/N too. And instead of reinforcing that, he ran away like a coward. Tomorrow he was going to make it right.

~taglist~  @mischief2sarawr @midnights-ramblings 

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki x yn #loki #loki fanfiction #Loki Laufeyson x you #Loki Laufeyson x reader #Loki Laufeyson fanfiction #Loki Odinson x reader #Loki Odinson x you #avengers #the avengers #avengers x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #mcu fanfiction #avengers fanfiction

[huggybug]

let me fix what’s broken - brendan brisson

word count: 1.9k words

note: I DID IT. not edited because i simply cannot stare at this any longer🫠 also officially the last umich goodbye fic ugh i’m sad

"You’re leaving?” You panted when Brendan opened the door. You had gotten a text notifying you that your boyfriend had officially decided to leave Michigan and you immediately ran from your lecture hall to his house.

“How did you get here so fast? Your class ended like five minutes ago” Brendan checked the time on his phone before looking back at you.

“Ran, not important” You took a second to catch your breath before throwing your arms around him. “Congratulations, I’m so proud of you” Brendan thanked you while pulling you into the house. A few of the remaining boys were scattered around the living room and you said a quick hello before you were dragged upstairs and into Brendan’s room.

“What’s going on?” You ask, just now noticing how unusually quiet he’s been.

“I think we need to talk” Your eyes widen and flicker from him down to your hands, suddenly feeling out of place. “We should break up”

“What?” You croak, your voice was almost too small to be heard.

“It’s just a lot, you know. We’re not going to see each other for a while and I’ll be busy in Vegas”

“Brendan...”

“I’m sorry but I think we’re better off if we just leave this as what it was” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion as you struggle to understand what he’s trying to say.

“And what exactly is that to you?”

“It was a college fling, Y/n, nothing more and nothing less” His words cut right through you. A college fling? You were in love with him and had been since you first met him as soon as you met him at that freshman event last September. 

“I thought you loved me” All the talk about your future and how many kids you’d want, what dog you were going to get... it all meant nothing to him.

“I do... I-” He was dumbfounded, trying to find words that weren't there but you didn’t wait for him to figure it out.

“No Brendan, you don’t. This isn’t how you treat people that you love” You brushed by him, holding the tears back as you rushed past the boys who were sitting around the living room. They were confused when you came down alone and even more confused when they realized you were crying.

When Brendan came down the stairs only moments later, you were already gone and all he had left was his friends who were badgering him with questions. 

“What the hell happened?” Mackie asked, still absolutely clueless about what Brendan could have possibly done to make you storm out of here like that.

“You actually did it? I thought you were joking bro” Thomas said, just now understanding.

“I had to, there was no other option” Brendan answered as he sat down next to his best friend.

“Did what? What am I missing?” Mark asked Thomas who shook his head and motioned to his best friend, deciding it was probably best if he explained it for himself.

“I broke up with Y/n” His confession was met with protests and shouts of disapproval by his friends.

“What in your little brain made you think that was a good idea?” Jimmy asked while shaking his head.

“She deserves better than a boyfriend who’s across the country. I can’t put her through that. She deserves more than just me” His voice was softer than usual and while it made some of the boys feel bad, they weren’t all as easily persuaded.

“Go apologize Briss, you know you don’t actually want this. Maybe if you beg, she’ll take you back” Thomas said, shoving his best friend lightly.

“It’s too late” 

“Dude she literally just left” Luke rolled his eyes.

“I can’t do it to her, she’s better off if I just leave” He sighed before trudging up to his room to start packing. 

...

The boys stayed out of it for the rest of the day, letting Brendan sulk in his room and checking up on you via text. It wasn’t until Thomas got a threatening text from Matty to ‘fix things or else’ that the boys had to divide a plan. 

“She’s not going to want to listen to me” Thomas had just finished explaining the plan after a long conversation with Brendan, trying to convince him that he was wrong in breaking things off.

“Just let us worry about that” Ethan said, waving Brendan off.

“If this ends up biting me in that ass, I’m blaming you fools” Brendan said, hoisting himself up from the couch.

“You already broke up with her... what more do you have to lose?” Mark snickers and Ethan smacks his arm. It was all going to happen the next morning since Brendan’s plane didn’t leave until 1 which gave the boys plenty of time to set the plan in motion.

You got a phone call at 9am. “Y/n?” 

“Thomas, if you’re not dying in a ditch somewhere I’m going to totally beat your ass” You groaned. Sleep had not come easily last night so the few hours you had actually gotten were interrupted way too soon.

“It’s important I swear, come to the house” You sighed but agreed before hanging up, reminding him that if he wasn’t actually leaving today, you wouldn’t be coming. You were dressed and ready to go in record speed and you hurried over to Thomas’ house. He was standing in the yard when you got there and you looked at him, then back to the house with a raised eyebrow.

“Did you get locked out?”

“No... just- come on” He grabbed your wrist and dragged you behind him as you struggled to keep up.

“Thomas-”

“Y/n!” You heard your name chorused and you looked around at the room full of boys who were not usually up this early on an off day.

“Hi?” You said awkwardly, still not too sure what you were doing here.

“So... why was I needed this early?” You were actually planning on spending the day in your dorm or at least until you knew Brendan would be gone to the airport. 

“You can’t leave” Mark said quickly and your eyes widened slightly.

“You have to talk to Briss before he leaves” Ethan says next and you sigh while shaking your head. You should’ve known they were going to try and fix this. Your friends were nothing if not menaces and they loved sticking their noses in problems that weren’t theirs in the first place.

“No I don’t” You turned to the door, ready to make your exit.

“Just hear him out” Thomas caught your arm and when you looked back at him, you could tell he was pleading which normally would win you over.

“I don’t think this is something he can talk his way out of” You sigh as you reached for the door. “I’ll see you guys later” The boys were frozen in place as you left, closing the door quietly behind you.

“I told you it wouldn’t work” Brendan sighed, stepping out from the kitchen where the boys had sat him down before you came in.

“Alright... plan b” Jimmy said while shoving Brendan towards the door.

“What’s plan b?” He asks, stabilizing himself before he could faceplant into the door.

“Go after her!” Ethan yelled while opening the door and shoving Brendan outside. You turn when you hear the commotion and see your boyfriend ex-boyfriend stumbling down the steps. 

“Y/n!” 

“Don’t do this Brendan, don’t make this harder than it already is” You shook your head as you kept walking, you weren’t even mad at him anymore, you were just hurt. 

“Just hear me out, please” You sigh before turning back to face him.

“What more could you possibly have to say Brendan?” “I’m sorry, okay? I fucked up, I shouldn’t have broken up with you... I love you” His eyes were wild while searching your face, trying to figure out how you would react.

“Did you mean it?”

“What?”

“That this was just a fling... that we were just a fling” Your heart squeezed when you relived the moment all over again. It wouldn’t have been such a big deal if that’s all it really was but you knew it was more. The almost two years you’d spent together was definitely not just a fling.

“No... god no. I love you Y/n” You let out a breath, your wall was slowly starting to fall. “I was scared, well I am scared. Long distance is hard and you deserve better than that Y/n/n” 

“You don’t get to make that decision alone Brendan!” You cried out.

“I know and that’s why I’m here now” He hesitantly takes a step towards you but when you don’t move away, he gains a little more confidence. “I’m sorry, I swear I’ll do anything to fix it” 

“You can’t just break my heart like that and then come back right away, did you really think I’d take you back that easily?”

“Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me and I’ll drop it and leave you alone” 

“I can’t” You say quietly. “Of course I want you Bren, I love you” 

“Then what’s the problem?” He asked and you took a deep breath.

“The problem is that I can’t trust you to not do this again”

“I promise on anything babe, if you want this... I will do anything I can to make it work. I just can’t leave without knowing for sure” That’s when it hit you... he was leaving today. In just a few hours, he’d be off to the airport, gone for who knows how long.

“Promise you won’t break up with me without actually talking to me first?” You ask and he laughs softly. “Unless I do something really terrible, then it’s acceptable”

“I promise” You bite the inside of your cheek before smiling. He grins before holding his arms out for you which you don’t hesitate before falling into him.

“I hope you know that I don’t deserve anything more than you” You say as you tilt your head up to look at him. 

“Of course you do” He sighed. “You’re going to be a fucking Physiotherapist, you deserve a smart boyfriend” 

“I have a smart-ass boyfriend, does that count?” You ask and he rolls his eyes before kissing you quickly. “I don’t care if you have a degree or not Bren” It was almost laughable that he thought something like that could be a problem for you.

“You’re going to have two degrees baby... I have none”

“By then you could have two Stanley Cups and I’d have none” You point out and he gives you a look.

“Don’t jinx me like that” You were too busy laughing at him to notice the previously empty street now had a line of hockey players standing and watching you.

“I told you it would work!” Thomas cheered with the boys and you were too busy laughing at Dylan and Luke (who were doing some sort of celebratory dance) to notice the other boys coming over to pat Brendan on the back.

“Alright, it’s like 9:30 and I’m hungry so let’s go get some food” You announce to the group who’s cheering in favour of food.

“Food and then we’ve got some goodbye festivities to have” Brendan comes up to whisper in your ear and you feel your cheeks flame while you elbow his stomach which elicits a loud laugh from him.

#brendan brisson x reader #brendan brisson imagine #brendan brisson fic #vegas golden knights #hockey writing #hockey fic #nhl players #nhl fanfiction

[luminari-mc]

My Human, My Sunshine - Part 1

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort.

Pairing: GN!MC x Mammon

Word count: 5194

Summary: Mammon finds himself lost in the human world. Meanwhile, MC can't get ahold of Solomon, their phone dead silent.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: My first writing piece for Obey Me! It's kind of a long one so I recommend you grab a snack or two during it. While this part is occupied by a good amount of text messages between Mammon and someone else, I'm already thinking of writing a part 2 which will have way more dialogue. In the meantime, please enjoy this little scenario I came up with after listening to a song that set me in an angsty mood. :)

______________________________________________________

Wet. Cold. Exhausted. And completely lost.

Mammon felt all of those, and yet, his legs kept on marching into the dead of night, his jacket covering his head despite being too drenched to protect him from the rain anymore. Each time a droplet of water came rolling on his cheek, his wrist would come to brush it off, and Mammon would let out an annoyed groan. If only there were any shops open, but the city was definitely asleep. He was thankful for the crashing sound of the rain on the ground around him, along with the smell of the wet asphalt keeping himself awake, otherwise, he surely would have gone crazy by now. The demon had even lost count of how many hours he had been wandering through the streets, how many mailboxes he had checked, how few passersby he had come across, only to receive negative answers to his questions.

And so Mammon kept on walking, not sure where to go next. But he felt sure of one thing: he wouldn't stop moving until he had found what he was looking for. Be there rain, or no rain. Lost or not.

"Tch, the human world's weather really sucks..."

As he walked on the pavement, his brow furrowed from the lack of new clues as to where his destination was supposed to be. His eyes caught sight of a bakery he had already walked by earlier during the day, its gentle light piercing the darkness that had been accompanying him for far too long now. Mammon's brow furrowed slightly at the sight- he knew he had gone in circles time and time again, but seeing it confirmed once more rubbed him the wrong way. Despite that, he decided to walk towards it, and took shelter under the entrance's porch. Surely the owners wouldn't mind him checking his phone for a few minutes, right? Right.

Pinching between his fingers the precious D.D.D. he had tucked under his shirt to protect it from the rain, Mammon looked at the map again. His stomach dropped for the upteenth time upon seeing the address still showing in his search bar, the letters and numbers taunting him. A knot formed in his throat as he tried his best not to scream at his screen.

"It wasn't there, you idiot..."

His mouth formed into an angry pout. Mammon looked into the list of potential addresses he had made throughout the day, and all had been crossed out. He felt his jaw clench- not only was he left with no addresses, no other clues, no humans to help him, but also that stupid rain surely would keep on falling for the rest of the night.

He was truly cursed.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do now?!" Mammon groaned, his free hand reaching upward to grab at his hair in frustration.

Yes... that was a good question. What was he supposed to do? It wasn't like he could ask help from any of his brothers, or from the angels. It had already been a miracle a witch he knew accepted to snuck him into the human world without anyone knowing, but there was no way he'd get any more help from her without offering his own life in exchange. And contacting Solomon was absolutely out of the question, for his own obvious reasons that he still was suspicious of the guy.

For the longest time in a while, Mammon felt alone. More alone than he had ever been before. He had promised himself to go on this search on his own, stupidly thinking that it'd be over by the end of the day, and look where that got him. Lost in the human world, on the verge of catching some nasty human virus from all this rain that had poured on him, and without anyone by his side.

The grip on his phone tightened, the hand holding it shaking slightly as the anger was starting to consume the demon. Even Mammon's patience had its limits, and he was starting to reach it.

"Dammit, where the hell are ya-"

A pathetic yelp escaped his mouth as he looked in fear at his phone, which had buzzed for a very short second in his palm. Wait, was it a notification? But from who? He had taken all the necessary precautions before leaving, so who was still able to reach his number?

His mind ran through all possibilities as he quickly checked his screen, the name of the sender making him open his eyes wide.

Leviathan: Mammon!!

Leviathan: Where are you???

Leviathan: You promised me you'd play this new game with me after coming home from RAD, don't tell me you forgot?? It's been HOURS.

Leviathan: Also the others say they can't reach your DDD and Lucifer is seriously pissed!

Leviathan: And I know you didn't break your DDD, that wouldn't explain why I can send texts now and the others still can't. Even though mine didn't work before.

Leviathan: But do you know how much time and effort it took me to find a way to bypass a blocked number?? Well guess what, the same amount of hours since you broke your promise!

Leviathan: You're reading this, right? Then send something! Anything!

Mammon backed even more into the porch of the shop, his eyes stuck to the screen of his phone. All of the blood rushing to his head suddenly made him forget he was cold in the first place. Of course Levi would be the first to find a way to contact him.

The demon's chest rose as he breathed in heavily, his hands slowly wrapping around the phone. It took him a hot minute to get ahold of his trembling fingers so as to not make any typos, his mind debating whether responding was a good idea or not, even as he hit the send button.

Mammon: Sorry Levi, gonna have to postpone the gaming session.

Mammon: I got business elsewhere and I'm not sure when I'll come back home, if ever.

Leviathan: Ew stop sounding so gloomy, you're almost starting to sound like me and tbh it would be kinda creepy.

Leviathan: That still doesn't tell me where you are! I know it's like a common thing for you to get into shady stuff on a regular basis but even Lucifer seems concerned, and weirdly enough he's not even trying to hide it???

Leviathan: He's been pacing back and forth in the common room for 20 minutes and won't let go of his phone it's starting to creep me out.

Leviathan: Hey huh, if you really were in big trouble you'd let us know, right? Like, even by typing a secret message to let us know that you got kidnapped or whatever?

Leviathan: Nevermind, I really don't see why you'd even get kidnapped, so it HAS to be that you chose to disappear by yourself.

Leviathan: But anyway! It's been 2 months now since everyone's been acting weird and I've seen and heard you enough to CLEARLY see that you're getting worse but finding trouble with witches or whatever won't help you feel better. And yes I know you've been faking being fine the entire time!! Don't think you can fool me!!

Leviathan: Believe me and the hundreds of figurines I bought!! I thought they'd help and it's somehow doing nothing, I feel like the worst fraud of an otaku EVER!!! How can I call myself an otaku when I can't even find joy anymore in the things that make an otaku what he is??

Leviathan: It's like I'm losing my identity! Wait no screw that, it's not just me, we've all been losing it!!

The three dots of a message being typed disappeared and reappeared, and Mammon couldn't do anything but watch the messages of his brother pop up one after another on his screen. A sense of guilt surfaced inside of him, and it only made him frown. It's not as if he hadn't thought about asking Levi for help, before getting himself into this mess... but for both of their sakes, he had decided that it had to be him coming here, and only him.

But suddenly, just as he expected his brother to send another message, the three dots disappeared, and didn't come back right away. Mammon's focus on his phone increased at the unexplained absence of new texts from Levi, and he waited, expecting him to continue the chain of messages he had started. But nothing followed.

It wasn't in Levi's habits to suddenly stop texting in the middle of a flood of texts. The demon gripped his phone tighter, worry beginning to grow within his mind. Was it because they were in different worlds that their phones couldn't reach properly? Or worse- had Lucifer found him out?

His heart almost skipped a beat as the three dots reappeared under his eyes, before letting another message pop up.

Leviathan: wait

Leviathan: waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait

Leviathan: OMG NO WAY

Leviathan: MAMMON TELL ME YOU'RE KIDDING

Mammon: I literally haven't said anything?

Leviathan: YOU PERFECTLY KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT

Leviathan: DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE IN THE HUMAN WORLD RN??

Shit.

How did he even find out?! Well... he could only assume that it wouldn't take a genius to figure out where Mammon could have gone if not anywhere in the Devildom, but still, why did Levi have to type it out? His plan was supposed to be flawless after all.

Mammon: Sorry bro, I can't say where I am.

Mammon: I know Lucifer's bound to check all of your DDDs sooner or later and that's only gonna help him find me.

Mammon: And like I said, I have something to do, so I can't come back.

Leviathan: Wait! I'll delete all of our messages, and I'll even destroy my DDD if it means you tell me why you're there

Leviathan: Actually no don't even answer, there can only be one reason you took that kind of risk

Leviathan: Is it... because of MC?

Upon reading their name again, Mammon felt his stomach sink. The eyes of the Avatar of Greed closed almost instantly as if to avoid reading it, the damp air whistling through his teeth as he breathed in deeply. Of course Levi would figure that out too. Any of his brothers could have.

The demon leaned his head against the wall behind him, his eyes opening and staring into nothing as he contemplated telling Levi about his plan. It wasn't as if he had any backup plans considering the situation he was in, after all. And Levi had the advantage of being at home, and having access to technology and magic that could improve his search further. But the thought of Lucifer figuring everything out still haunted him, making the hair on his skin stand straight.

And yet... At this point, he had nothing else to lose.

Mammon: Ya gotta promise not to tell anyone about this.

Leviathan: Who do you take me for? I'm not a snitch!

Leviathan: Especially if it's about MC.

Leviathan: But huh... what about Lucifer? You know that if when he finds out you went to the human world, he's going to kill you.

Mammon: Fuck Lucifer.

Mammon: I'm tired of hearin' him say he's "taking care of it". He clearly knows something but won't tell any of us and I'm tired of not getting any news from MC since they left the Devildom 2 months ago.

Mammon: And what's with his excuse about them not havin' their DDD anymore to contact us? I call that a load of bullshit.

Mammon: Something weird happened and Lucifer's too stuck-up to let us know what it is.

Mammon: So I'm done waiting around to see when they'll come back, or IF they'll even come back. So I'm going to get them myself.

Mammon: Problem is, I went to MC's place, and they weren't there. Their neighbor told me that they moved out a while ago with, get this, "a guy with white hair".

Leviathan: ??????? Solomon?????

Mammon: I'd bet my Demonio and all the things I possess that it's him.

Mammon: Not only Lucifer's in on this secret thing about MC, but Solomon too. I've already booked him an appointment with my fists if he did anythin' to them.

Mammon: Hell, even Diavolo and Barbatos seem to be in it too, which sucks even bigger time.

Mammon: So that means it's just us 6 who don't know shit. I wasn't about to play nice and dumb for Lucifer any longer.

Leviathan: Mammon

Leviathan: I never thought I'd ever write something like that to YOU

Leviathan: but

Leviathan: you sound super cool rn!! That just makes me wish I could have gone too!!

Leviathan: Pleasepleaseplease let me help!!! I'm also worried about MC and I miss having them here. The atmosphere at the house has sucked ever since we realized we couldn't text or call them anymore and I huh... kinda miss seeing them around the others too.

For a split second, Mammon considered taking a screenshot of Levi's last message to sell it as "the proof that the Avatar of Envy can control his jealousy!", but now wasn't the time for that. He had Levi's approval for helping him find the whereabouts of MC, and that's all he needed at the moment. He hadn't even noticed his lips turning into a small grin upon reading his brother offering his support.

Mammon: Alright Levi listen.

Mammon: All I'm tryin' right now is to find where MC might be.

Mammon: I don't think they left the place I'm at, but I ain't about to search at every damn house there is here. Would take too much time anyway.

Mammon: So can ya use your shut-in powers and figure somethin' out? Like I don't know, catch their human phone's signal or whatever through hacking?

Leviathan: Lol? I'll let you know it's not because I spend my entire days in my room that I know how to find a human phone!

Leviathan: I know how to hack yeah, but I don't know how to hack human technology! Not that I maybe tried once or twice and it resulted in failure each time.

Leviathan: But huh... I could try?

Leviathan: Let me ask Satan if we could use magic too.

Mammon: Satan? Levi, are you stupid? Last thing we want is to get more people to know about what I'm doing.

Leviathan: Oh huh yeaaaah, about that.

Leviathan: I should have told you sooner, but when I stopped answering earlier it's because Satan caught me texting you.

Leviathan: But he actually knew you had left to the human world! So we don't have to worry! He's on our side... obviously.

Mammon: Then the two of you get on it.

Mammon: And don't catch Lucifer's attention.

Leviathan: Yeah!

Leviathan: I'll let you know when we've found something.

Leviathan: BRB!

And then just like earlier, Levi's texts stopped appearing on his screen. A sigh left Mammon's lips as he closed his eyes, and the demon allowed his body to slide against the wall behind him until he was sitting on the ground. As he stretched out his sore body, the second-born finally realized that after two whole months of not getting to hear MC's voice, seeing their smile, getting to touch them... he had gotten closer to finding them, all thanks to his brothers. He had let Lucifer's intimidation get the best of him throughout all this time, but not anymore. No matter whether his older brother would catch wind of where he was, and what he was doing, Mammon would never stop trying to bring back MC where they belonged. With him, in the Devildom, back with the family they had found and grown to love.

Closing the messaging app with his thumb, the picture of MC he had set as his D.D.D. background seemed to radiate like the sun. How dared them all try to separate his human from their first man? From the one who'd they come to whenever they had a nightmare and couldn't fall asleep? The demon who'd hug them as tight as possible in their bed after a long day at RAD? The one who'd had the chance to fall asleep with them, getting the absolute honor of seeing their face so close to his, and who'd protect their dreams from any bad thoughts and scary nightmares?

The anxiety that Mammon had worn on his face all day slowly disappeared, and a small smile was placed upon it instead as his eyes met MC's in the picture.

"I'm almost there. Ya just gotta be patient a little more."

I'll find ya.

Time went on as Mammon waited for any news of Levi and Satan's research. The rain showed no sign of clearing soon, and the demon was starting to doze off after spending his entire day without taking a single break. He could have almost fallen asleep if it hadn't been for the owner of the bakery opening the door to close his shop and asking him to sit somewhere else. So Mammon moved from one spot to another, and took shelter near another store instead.

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting on the stone steps he had sat on, his phone's screen flashed a bright light as a new notification from Levi appeared from the top. Quickly passing his wrist on his tired eyes, Mammon tapped on the new message at the speed of light. The contents made him gasp, and for a second, he had almost forgotten how to breathe, as his now wide-open eyes were glued on the content of the message.

A full-on address, along with a picture of the place.

Mammon instantly stood up at the sight of the picture, the memories of his day resurfacing in a flash. He remembered very clearly seeing this particular building sometime during his search- its height had been making it stand out very easily amongst the other buildings in the city. Nobody couldn't mistake it with anything else.

Mammon: This is it?

Leviathan: Yeah, we placed down a map and confirmed it was there.

Leviathan: Satan actually found a book in his room with a spell that can help find a person's specific item with just some of their DNA.

Leviathan: So we went to MC's room and found some hair that Satan used for the spell, along with his phone so it could narrow down the list of MC's items.

Leviathan: I didn't think Satan's room could look even more of a mess, but he spent 10 minutes shoveling through his collection and now you can't even see the floor or his bed anymore lol

Leviathan: Anyway now that you got what you wanted, go and check if MC is there!

Mammon felt his legs move on their own as he flipped his jacket above his head and stepped under the rain again, a confident grin now brightly adorning his face as he typed on his phone to reply.

Mammon: Thanks Levi. I'll owe ya one.

Leviathan: Find MC and bring them back. Then you can consider us even.

Mammon nodded, a newfound hope filling his entire body and mind. After confirming that Levi had ceased texting him, the demon turned the phone off. He opened his hand to drop it on the wet floor, and let his right foot crash down upon it, the object almost breaking in half. Mammon promptly gathered in his hand the shattered item, now completely unusable, and threw it down a nearby sewer before letting his excitement take the best of him and sprint further in the direction of the building from the picture. At least, now Lucifer wouldn't be able to track him down with it if Levi and Satan got caught.

The more distance he covered, the more Mammon could swear he was about to take on his demon form at any moment. The thoughts of MC began to fill his head even more, as if they were the one pushing him to find them, to get to them as soon as possible. For the first time in 2 months, Mammon felt truly alive.

"Almost there. The Great Mammon's coming for ya, MC!!" he let out in the form of an encouragement to himself, his legs having found their energy again as his form was engulfed further into the city.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Anxiously pacing around the room, their head low and their phone in their hands, MC was growing more and more impatient. They were supposed to receive an update from Solomon about three hours earlier in the form of a phone call, but no matter the amount of messages they'd spent in the hopes of the wizard finally answering them, all they received was a dreadful silence. Grabbing a nearby chair, they let their body fall onto the seat as their fingers typed yet another message. They couldn't really understand how they had come to grow so persistent when it came to getting Solomon to reply to them, but having no other person to talk to ever since they left the Devildom 2 months prior would do that to anyone, they assumed.

'Solomon, sorry, I know I'm sending a lot of texts, but you said you'd visit today and I'm starting to be worried and... honestly a bit lonely. I thought going out today would help, but I just sat in the park for an hour before going back home and not doing much of the day.'

'You were supposed to meet with other wizards today, right? I hope nothing bad happened. But in case you're alright, all I'm asking is just one reply to at least get some sort of human connection. Not that I had a lot of it in the past few months.'

They felt their throat tighten upon writing their last sentence, feeling the frustration spilling out of their own words right back into their face. But who could blame them?

2 months without seeing, hearing, or even texting their friends back in the Devildom. 2 months without receiving a single visit from Luke or Simeon. 2 months spent exclusively with the company of Solomon, who had been acting strange ever since and had made them move out of their home under the excuse that it was to "train them at magic in a more private setting". But more importantly... those had been 2 months without having Mammon around, and MC would lie if they said they hadn't spent several nights crying themself to sleep, wondering how the demon was dealing with their absence.

The memories of their latest departure from the Devildom played in their head like a movie as they placed a hand on their forehead. Everything had seemed alright at the time, with them getting to say their usual goodbyes to the brothers, wishing to see them again once the new year at RAD would start, foolishly thinking that they'd get to spend their time hearing their voices on a daily basis once they were back in the human world. And before they could understand, their DDD had been taken from them, Solomon had been more present in their life than ever before, and for a reason they still couldn't grasp, it was as if the brothers had vanished from their life completely. No news whatsoever. Complete radio silence.

Just thinking back to this period, and how they could have probably caught that something was up as soon as Diavolo asked for their DDD after the brothers had left... it just made them want to puke.

But nothing could make them want to do so as much as the long-awaited reply of Solomon appearing on their screen.

'Hi MC. I'm deeply sorry I couldn't get ahold of you throughout the day. I won't be able to visit you today, since my services are still required here. Besides, it's getting late. I recommend you go have a good night's sleep as soon as possible.'

'If everything goes smoothly, I should be able to come back tomorrow. Then, we'll be able to go walk wherever you want. How does that sound?'

'I need to be going, but I shall wish you a good night. Take care, MC.'

And just as quickly as he had answered, Solomon went silent again. Leaving them in this apartment they had grown to hate, this prison cell he had put them in. A place where no fun could be found for them. MC didn't even bother sending anything else after that.

Their head sunk even lower, until their forehead slowly met with the hard surface of the dinner table. The phone faceplanted onto the wood as MC's hands turned into hard fists, a deep groan shaking the walls of their throat. It was hard not to let the tears escape their eyes, but instead, they opted to punch the table several times as hard as they could, until they felt their anger diminish.

How long was Solomon going to act ignorant towards them? How long was he going to ignore their pleas to get news from the Devildom, anything that would let them know why they couldn't contact the brothers, Diavolo and Barbatos? Even if the lords had been in some sort of trouble... they'd still find time to talk to their human, right? There was no way Mammon, the one they loved, wouldn't try to reach them one way or another... right?

Him who had been so clingy in such an adorable way every time they'd be at the House of Lamentation, he who had revealed to them that there wasn't a single day where his thoughts wouldn't drift to them no matter how hard he tried...

No. No amount of important duties would explain why Mammon of all demons, would ignore them like that.

They missed his antics. His entire being. The warmth he'd bring them each time he'd hold their hand before tucking his face into their neck like a pouting child, desperately trying to sneak one or two kisses in there, in the hopes he'd get to hear that sweet giggle of them. It wasn't for nothing that Lucifer had come to name them the chaotic duo of the House of Lamentation. They were two parts of a whole.

And yet, the world had dared to separate them. And MC was tired, oh so tired of not having their other half near them. The only feeling they had left, was one of pure desperation to see their greedy demon.

"I'm not asking for much... even a single word would do." MC replied to no one as they turned their head to rest their cheek onto the table. They closed their eyes, the anger slowly being replaced by a profound exhaustion. Could they really do nothing but act normal around Solomon, and accept that this was now their new life? No demons, no angels, just... humans around them?

Before they could slap the thought away, a loud banging coming from the entrance door made them straighten in their seat, their head turning towards the hallway in a panic. Their heart pounded inside their chest as the banging seemed to go on forever, until they used the back of their chair to push themself up, their legs shaking.

"S...Solomon?" They asked, way too silently for anyone to hear, and fully knowing that the person behind the door couldn't be the wizard.

As if they were waiting for an answer, MC stood there, their hand grasped onto the chair. The banging was insistent, demanding, angry. At this time of night, there were few reasons they could think why someone would mistreat their door in such a way, and MC wasn't sure they wanted to find the reason for it.

That is, until the person behind the door finally let their voice be heard.

"Oi, MC! Ya can hear me right?! Come on, open the door!"

It didn't take long for MC to let the familiar voice enter their ears, and it took less time for them to nearly stumble over the chair as their legs moved in a hurry to lead them towards the door as quickly as possible. Their hands messily trying to open the locks on the door, they were sure their mind had just played a trick on them, and the person outside was going to leave them completely disappointed, but they didn't care. This voice they could only remember so well despite the time since they had last heard it, was simply inviting them to open the door, to check for themselves whether it was true, or just a nasty joke played by their brain.

But as the last lock was undone, and the door was swung open, MC couldn't do anything but just stand there, their mouth agape.

Mammon kept on drawing breaths, his wet hair stuck to his forehead and drops of rain falling from his clothes onto the floor below, so much so that it had started to create a small puddle underneath him. As if the person who opened the door wasn't the one he expected, the demon took a step back, letting his eyes wander up and down on the human he had in front of him, almost in an attempt to check if it was really them. He too, couldn't stop his mouth from hanging open at the sight.

The two of them just stood there for a few seconds, taken by so many emotions at once that they weren't sure what to do. But right as Mammon took a step forward, his mouth opening some more to let out words that he so desperately had wanted to say for so long now, MC's face contorted into one of pure sadness before they rushed towards him. Mammon greedily welcomed them into his arms as they jumped and wrapped their arms around his shoulders, and their legs around his waist. They buried their face into his neck, the warmth of their tears mixing with the rain on his skin.

His embrace only tightened even more as they mumbled his name amidst broken sobs, the sound ever so close to his ear that even though he had his eyes firmly closed, he might have cried on the spot too. But he had found them. He had them in his arms again. After what had seemed like a million years, finally, they were back where they belonged, and he was back with his human.

Almost as if they were about to be pulled away from him, Mammon placed a hand on the back of their head, wanting to protect their entire being from harm no matter the cost. He still wasn't sure why it had taken so long for him to reunite with them despite the obstacles, but at the present moment, nothing else could matter.

The lord had finally found them, and he wasn't about to let anyone interfer between their happiness once more.

"I ain't letting you go." He whispered through gritted teeth, his head lowering into their shoulder. "Ever again."

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me writing #obey me angst #obey me solomon #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #beel #mc x mammon #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo #obey me swd #shall we date obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me fandom #obey me one master to rule them all #om mammon #obey me levi #om levi #om lucifer #om swd #om shall we date #obey me scenarios #obey me fic #om satan #vel's writing #mhms

[blackkatmagic]

I'm sorry? But also not because I've spent the past week trying(and failing) to draw Guenhwyvar and the zabrak bros all asleep in a cuddle pile. And I absolutely blame you. I haven't drawn anything in 16 years!!! The idea is just so cute though.

(Disclaimer: I have no idea how timeliness work, but...) I am also imagining Mother Talzin hiring someone to get them back and I mean the shenanigans that could result from a certain mandalorian taking the job? *makes puppy dog eyes*

I know you probably meant Jango but given the timelines I went with Jaster and im totally not sorry.

There's someone in the forest.

Drizzt raises his head, sees Guenhwyvar do the same from the other side of the fire. Against her side, Savage stirs, clutching his brother tighter to him, but when Guenhwyvar wraps her tail around them, curls in tighter, he settles. She looks back at Drizzt, ears folding back, and Drizzt nods, silently sliding down from the rock he was perched on and drawing a scimitar.

“Stay with them, Guen,” he murmurs, though he likely doesn’t need to; Guenhwyvar likely wouldn’t leave a pair of children on their own unless directly ordered to, and even then she’d resist as long as possible.

Guenhwyvar rumbles her agreement, claws digging into the soft earth, and drops her head onto her paws, still perfectly alert. It makes Drizzt smile, and he leans down to stroke her head as he passes but doesn’t pause. This moon’s forest is thick and deep and dark, and the sun only rises on it rarely, which makes it perfect for a drow, and Drizzt's steps are perfectly silent as he slips away from the camp, following the source of the sound. Savage had said there were no predators on this moon, and Drizzt, still unfamiliar with the workings of the holonet and ships and all the other strange things in this universe, had taken his word for it, but—

Someone hunting them isn't out of the question. The matron Drizzt stole Savage and Feral from—with their permission and willing participation, but stole all the same—seemed far more like Malice Do’Urden than anyone Drizzt has encountered in centuries, and Drizzt would believe without hesitation that she would send pursuers after them.

At the very edge of the deep trees beyond the camp, he stops, looks back. Guenhwyvar looks like she’s asleep, though Drizzt knows she isn't, and the two shapes tucked against her side are dwarfed by her bulk. He lingers for a moment, watching Savage sleep, watching Feral turn his head and press closer to his brother, the dig of his small horns making Savage huff and shift before he sinks back down into sleep. It makes something in Drizzt's chest feel tight in a way it hasn’t in a very long time, since well before Catti-brie died.

Connection, he thinks, even in this disconnected place. But for all this whole dimension is strange and foreign and often alarming, no one here seems to know the drow. No one thinks Drizzt is going to kill them as soon as they see him. And maybe the victory of that should feel hollow, after so many years trying to find a place where he was welcomed in his own world, but—it’s truly just a relief.

Feral and Savage are his, and this world is his now. Drizzt won't let anyone take it from him.

Steady, careful, Drizzt picks his way over the rise, up through massive trees that blot out the sky and the planet there. There are voices ahead of him, he thinks, so low that even his ears have a hard time picking them out. Steps, and the shift of cloth, and the brush of metal, and Drizzt slides behind a tree, lets his vision slip to infrared, and immediately spots a pair of figures who are just separating. One circles around through the trees, while the other heads right towards Drizzt, and it’s clear that they’ve spotted the little fire, the campsite. Drizzt tightens his grip on his sword, blinking back to regular sight, and debates who to take first. The one circling around will run right into Guenhwyvar, and for all Drizzt doesn’t want to scare the children, it seems better to catch this man, who’s moving more quickly, with more purpose.

Silently, Drizzt waits, listening to his steps approach. Closes his eyes, marking each one, and just as the man passes the tree Drizzt is tucked behind, Drizzt leaps.

The man is almost a foot taller than him, but then, most everyone Drizzt fights is. He’s in armor, black and red with a design on the chestplate in gold, but it just means he’s heavier. When Drizzt hits him from above, fouls his feet, and uses his weight against him, he goes down hard. Hits a rock, rolls, his helmet bouncing free, and Drizzt doesn’t hesitate. He has both scimitars out and striking in a fraction of a second, and drives the blades into the ground on either side of the man’s head, crossed over his neck.

Instantly, the man stills, and Drizzt leans over him, knee planted in his chest, gripping the hilts and ready to sweep the blades across the vulnerable throat. “Who are you?” he demands, and the man’s eyes sweep over him, a little wide, before he carefully, deliberately brings his hands up, fingers spread. Drizzt tenses, but there's none of the green magic the matron used, no attempt at a spell. Just a surrender, wary and slow.

“I'm Jaster Mereel,” the man says. “Of Mandalore.”

It’s likely supposed to mean something; the way he says it has weight. Drizzt has dealt with too many people who thought themselves important, though, and he just narrows his eyes. “And who sent you after me?”

“Not you,” Jaster says, cool. “The children you kidnapped. A tribe on Dathomir—”

“I took them,” Drizzt says, willing to admit it freely. “Because they wanted to come with me. They told me Nightbrothers are—”

“Nightbrothers?” Jaster interrupts, and immediately the tension is back in his body, stark and almost startling. “Only the Nightsisters call their men Nightbrothers.”

“Yes,” Drizzt says, confused. “That is who I took them from. Matron—Mother Talzin.”

There's a long, long pause, and then Jaster scowls, deep and displeased. “The witch who hired us failed to mention she spoke for Talzin.”

#kat answers #my writing #in the rain darkness (the sunset being sheathed) #legend of drizzt #star wars #jaster mereel #drizzt do'urden #savage opress #feral opress

[duskholland]

frat!tom inviting you to one of their ragers and all of his brothers trying to be a wingman for him bc they all know he’s had his eye on you the whole semester 😂 bc your friends would be like since when did you become friends with all these frat bros and you’re like idk what’s going on rn you’d be so confused lmao.

god this is such a cute idea...my heart. cw: alcohol + fluff.

finishing up some frat!tom blurbs !!

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

The first time it happens, you find it funny. The second, you feel a little uncertain but laugh it off. But the third time you’re approached by one of the fratboys hosting the party and offered a round of the house’s finest drinks, you can’t deny your complete bemusement.

“Since when did you become friends with so many frat bros?” Your friend, Val, whispers, clinging to your arm as one of the men, a shorter lad called Harry, dishes out shots to you and all of your friends. You accept one with a smile before dropping your voice.

“I didn’t,” you mutter. “I don’t understand what’s going on right now.”

You’ve barely done your shot when there’s a presence beside you.

“Y/N! Pleased you could make it.” You turn to see Harrison there, the vice-president of the frat. He’s in a SnapBack and a black T-shirt, smirking widely. “Do you and your friends want to come and play beer pong with us?”

You exchange a glance with Val, who giggles.

“Why not,” you agree.

You’re swept over to the large patio with a few of your friends, and you barely have time to process what’s happening before Harrison is claiming you as his partner and pulling you around to his side of the table. Val stands at the other end, and you watch, confused, as she asks one of the fratboys to partner with her, only for him to agree, look across the table and see you, then immediately shake his head and announce,

“Wait— no, I can’t. Stay here. One second.”

He runs away and Val raises a brow, but before you can speak to her, Harrison is poking at your arm.

“So,” he says, smirking softly. “How are you finding the party, Y/N? Anyone catch your eye?”

You furrow your brows, crossing your arms over your chest as you eye him carefully. You’ve not spent much time with Harrison before. Yes, you’ve been to a few parties together and played some games of truth or dare, but you’ve not developed such a deep connection that would warrant such attention. You find it suspicious.

“It’s a good party,” you agree, “though, I don’t think you guys have ever hosted a bad one.”

Harrison nods, pride reflecting in his eyes. “Well, thanks.” He digs his hands into his pockets. “It’s all Tom. He does all the planning and organising. He’s a great guy.” Harrison nudges you gently. “A really great guy.”

You start to wonder if the reason for your sudden catapult to centre of attention is more straightforward than you’d first thought.

“—Ahh, there he is, actually. What good timing.”

You look across the table, your breath hitching as your eyes fall upon the figure of Tom Holland, president of the frat, and your study partner from english lit. He looks good, wrapped up in a blue flannel and a black t-shirt, with a dark cap resting on his curls. His eyes seek yours out immediately and you raise a hand in greeting, feeling your lips twitch into a soft smile as he walks towards you.

“Y/N, darling!” Tom exclaims, greeting you with a hand on your hip and his lips on your cheek. “You look stunning tonight.” His fingers linger on your waist for a moment before he steps away, and his proximity grants you a deep whiff of his cologne.

“Thank you,” you reply, smiling shyly. “You look good too.”

“Thanks, love.” The tips of his teeth flint white as Tom beams at you. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come tonight. I’m glad you did.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Of course I would,” you say. You’d been overjoyed when he’d extended the invite to you, personally, and invited you and your friends to the biggest rager on campus. “I wanted to see you.”

It’s unclear if he’s blushing, or simply too warm, but you watch as Tom scratches the back of his neck and smiles almost shyly.

“I’m glad.” He clears his throat and his eyes flutter across the table, to where Harrison’s drifted around to stand beside Val. He nudges your arm, his elbow gentle. “Are you ready to win this?”

“Oh hell yeah. I was born ready.”

“That’s my girl.”

You feel your lips pull up, and try not to let him see the thrill that curls down your spine as you hear him speaking so affectionately to you.

The game goes by slowly, and you find yourself wondering how Harrison, usually so irritatingly good at beer pong, misses even the easiest of shots. If you didn’t know any better, you might be tempted to think he was trying to throw the game, yet Tom keeps you too busy to extensively ponder this thought. When you’re not on the receiving end of his smooth praises, you’re both listening to some of the fratbros who linger near, passing off compliment after compliment in Tom’s direction. They hype up almost every part of his person, pointing out, eagerly, and despite Tom’s obvious embarrassment, how good his grades have been, how he’s been learning to cook, how he’s a beast in the gym… Any positive to Tom that could be praised, is, and it leaves you smiling.

Much to your amusement, you end up winning the game. Once you’re suitably buzzed, you wave bye to Val and follow Tom back inside, his hand clinging to yours. You watch, amused, as the crowd seems to part for you, multiple pairs of eyes following you and the way your fingers are linked with Tom’s. Whispers follow you, and you find yourself clinging closer to him, curling your arm around his as you shy into his side.

Tom takes you upstairs. He’d pulled you from the patio whispering about a book he’d borrowed from you a month ago and needed to return, but you know that his intentions go beyond the return of a simple favour.

“This is a nice room,” you say. It’s large, and on the top floor of the frat. It’s also the room that comes without a suite mate, courtesy of Tom’s status as president. There’s a large window set into the wall, a nice double bed, and even an en-suite.

You feel his hand briefly touch you back as Tom moves past you and walks over to his desk. You watch him rummage through a pile of papers and pens, his watch glinting.

“Thank you,” he responds, looking back over his shoulder at you. His thin lips quirk into a smile as he inclines his head towards his bed. “You can sit down if you want.”

You hum as you walk towards the bed, perching on the edge of the mattress with your legs crossed. After a few moments more, Tom releases a noise of triumph and holds up the borrowed book.

“Here you go,” he says, walking over to you. He passes you the book, and you promptly put it down beside you. “Thank you for letting me borrow it.”

“Of course,” you respond. You meet his eyes, getting momentarily lost in his caramel depths. “Hey, could I ask you a question?”

Tom nods, crossing his hands behind his back as he looks at you curiously. “Anything.”

You bite your lip before extending your hand towards him. When he takes it and easily loops your fingers together, you smile.

“Did you have all your frat brothers wingman you tonight?”

Tom hesitates, a hint of embarrassment curling over his face.

“You, uh, noticed that?” He asks, scratching at his neck.

You nod, smirking. “If the never ending supply of shots and compliments weren’t indication enough, Harrison also threw the game so we would win.”

Tom curses softly. “He’s such a twat,” he mutters. “But uh… Yeah, I guess. I just wanted you to have a good time tonight, Y/N. Some of them just took it a bit too far. I’m sorry if they made you feel uncomfortable.”

“They didn’t. I thought it was cute.” You hesitate, your eyes shifting over his face. “I think you’re cute.”

Tom shifts on his feet, seeming to stretch a little straighter as he smirks.

“And I think you’re absolutely gorgeous.” Using the hand intertwined with yours, Tom very gently helps you to your feet. His fingers slip down to your waist, where they rest, touch firm and warm. You like the feeling of being so close to him.

“So… What are you going to do about that?”

You bite your lip as his breath hitches, and then you let him pull you closer. His voice is lower, huskier, and it comes out lightly as his warm breath fans out across your face.

“I’m gonna kiss you,” he declares.

You give him the slightest nod before looping your arms around his neck, and then very slowly, and easily, Tom presses his lips to yours. It’s soft at first—carrying more care than you would’ve expected—but your eyes flutter shut as you enjoy the moment. It builds quickly, spiralling from a tender union of mouths to an intensely hot kiss, burning bright with passion as you feel him nibbling your lower lip. You part your lips, and your fingers dig into his curls as your tongues dance together, the kiss growing hotter and heavier as you curl in closer.

When you break away after a few moments of passionate kissing, you’re breathless but happy. You rest your palms on the flat of his shoulders and sigh contentedly, lips stinging softly.

“Next time you want to get closer to me, you can just ask me, y’know,” you tease. “I quite like spending time with you, Tom.”

His lips brush your cheek, and you feel him squeeze your waist.

“Noted, love.” He pauses for a moment, smirk biting at his lips. “Care to spend some time with me now, darling?”

You wrap your fingers around the top of his shirt and pull him closer, letting your lips brush over his as you smile.

“I think I’d like that very much.”

#this makes me soft :') #tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland x reader fluff #tom holland blurbs #frat!tomfic #myblurbs #tomblurbs #tom.sfw #queue! #thinking abt my emotional support fratboy :')

[jonnnysuh]

How To Write Good // Vernon

A/N: It all started with watching Vernon’s English tutor series and now we’re here omg. This is my first series so please give it some love <3 kind of unedited so lmk if there’s any mistakes! PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

PAIRING: Vernon x You

GENRE: enemies to ???, fluff, student!vernon, tutor!vernon

WARNINGS: swearing

WORD COUNT: 2.7K

SUMMARY: There’s the crisp air of campus, the rush of something new, and a four year degree ahead of you. Your college experience doesn’t go off as smoothly as you’d hoped when you fall asleep on course selection day and are stuck with left over electives. Struggling to get through your creative writing class, you have no idea how you’re going to get through this semester. Fate steps in when the stranger you fought in the library might just be your only chance at passing. This is all just part of the college experience… right?

Orange leaves began surrounding the burnt red brick pathway, and the small green hills of the campus quad.  Fall was fast approaching, without much warning.  The bright summer sky, now often clouds of gray. The wind brushed past you, causing your hair to fly up. Your legs brushed together quickly as you tried to make your way through campus to get to your Writing in the Arts class. You swore to yourself that you wouldn't sleep through course selection but sometimes sleep was an actual priority to you...and it so happened to be on that day.  Not your first choice, but definitely miles ahead of  Economic History on the list of leftover electives.

You flipped over your wrist to take a look at the time on your brown pleather watch. 8:12.

Professor Hampton was an older woman, who always kept her sandy brown hair in a slick tight low bun. She had enforced a rule that the doors to the lecture hall would shut 15 minutes past the hour. If you didn’t make it then you’d have to get notes from a classmate. Maybe it’d be fine if you had a friend in the class that was actually punctual, but you had often sat alone in the same spot in the far left corner of the class room.  Time was definitely never on your side as you reckoned you only had 3 minutes left until your trip downtown was rendered useless. 

You swung the thick metal door open, and began pumping your legs forward, not stopping until you reached the top of the stairs. To your luck, the lecture hall was on the exact end of the hallway. As you took longer strides, your gray backpack bounced behind you. Finally arriving at the end of the long hallway, you came face to face with Professor Hampton, who had a scowl so thick you’d think it was drawn on with a felt tip permanent marker. Without an ounce of forgiveness, that old lady secured the door shut, eyes keen on your betrayed face just a few centimetres from hers.

With the little pride you still had, you contained the urge  to bang on the door repeatedly and say "OPEN UP."

If you hadn't had time to get ready that day, or missed your bus, dammit this would've been the boiling point that would've driven you to  kick the wall. Your saving grace was that there was a cute guy typing away on his laptop in this hallway and you'd be damned if you were about to look a fool.

It was that moment, you knew that if you were going to pass this class without sacrificing a wink of sleep, you were going to have to make a friend that was good at writing notes. And quick.

—

The next day, you navigated your way through the twists and turns of the library, never having had been there a day in your life. You swear you’d gone in a circle at this point. You promised your best friend, Taylor that you’d secure a spot for your impromptu study date. Although you both had good intentions, you knew it was more than likely going to become a gossip session that involved sometimes looking at class material.

Among the rows and rows of occupied tables, you finally found an empty table, situated next to the window that overlooked the architecture and art buildings. You settled in the chair, slipping your laptop out of your tote bag , and typing mindlessly to look busy while you waited for your friend. With a look around the room, you wondered if people actually studied at the library or if they were just faking it like you.

You were so immersed in your game of Tetris you almost didn’t hear the voice that said , “Hey, I think you’re at the wrong table.”

You paused your game and surveyed the empty wooden table you were sitting at.  You blinked slowly at the brown haired man.  “I was here first.”

“That might be true but I booked it out for the hour.” The stranger stood with a slight slouch, sporting a backwards snapback and a deep green hoodie. He didn't look like the type to hang out around the library- but then again, neither did you. You swear you had seen him before, but you couldn't place where.

Did I go to high school with him?  you thought.

What if he was ugly and had a glow up and that’s why I don’t recognize him?

You took a closer look at him.

Nah. I don’t think he’s ever been ugly in his life.

“Look. My name's right here." He leaned forward, showing you his screen.

[TABLE 9] 3:00pm - Vernon C.

You pushed the phone away, unimpressed. "But you showed up late."

"It was only 6 minutes." Vernon scoffed, as if his tardiness would automatically forfeit him from his table.

"Well, have you ever heard of finder's keepers?"

Vernon nodded, his voice pointed. "But have you ever heard of fair and square?"

You tried your best to conceal the fact that you were somewhat amused by his elementary-level comeback.

"Could you look into your great, big heart to share?” You pouted tauntingly.

"Oh, yeah, because you need a table to play Tetris." He responded sarcastically but it was as if he had crept into your mind. You dreaded the idea of being on your feet trying to find another place for your game.

Your best friend rolled in between you two innocently, confused at the interaction at hand. It was like a kid walking in on their mom and dad fighting for the first time… except dad is a Tetris-hating stranger you just met 3 minutes ago.

“Sorry I’m late, Y/N.”  Taylor interjected, trying her best to mend the atmosphere with a grin.  Vernon's posture went notably straight as he exhaled, returning a sweet close-lipped smile. You couldn't help but notice the way he looked at your friend- you squinted at the shadow of the difference between this Vernon and the one that basically told you to fuck off only moments prior.

Without a doubt, you knew he was suffering from the "Taylor Effect".

Taylor was your textbook girl next door; equipped with a warm demeanour, and a confidence that was endearing rather than cocky.  You could tell that Vernon was trying his best not to stare so obviously, but he was failing miserably.

Because everyone gravitated towards her, many found it odd that she chose to keep you as company. Sometimes you thought she stuck around only because your personalities were so starkly different and would emphasize how great she was, but time and time again she proved she was notable on her own accord.

"Did I interrupt something?"

You and the man shared a look.

Vernon had a feeling that if he let you speak first, that you might ruin his chances with Taylor, and there was absolutely NO shot that he was going to tell her what had just happened. You were quick to take advantage of the situation.

“Vernon just wanted to take the tab-“

He shook his head, "No, no, no I was just leaving."

You raised your eyebrow, smugly.

“I'll see you later,” He bid.  Your eyes widened as he went closer to you, clasping his hand around yours and pulling you forwards into an almost embrace. He dapped you up. Vernon dapped you up. What? Did he think you were bros now?

Ya, right. You thought. This is my first and last time in this library. You will never see me or my Tetris again.

And with that, he swung his backpack over his shoulder  coolly and headed down the long carpeted aisle in the other direction.

Only a few moments later did he return to go through the north exit. “Wrong way.” He mumbled, charting past both of you.

—

“So you don’t know anyone in that class?” Taylor said in disbelief as you two sat at the table you had only marginally won.

“No, I missed the first two weeks so by the time I actually went to class  they already had their groups.”  you responded, blowing air out of your mouth in frustration.

School had only just begun and Taylor had swept up a bunch of friends, including you, in just this one semester.

You, on the other hand, were awkward, but not in the forgivable way. You never knew the right thing to say, and your sarcasm drew a fine line between a joke and the truth. You felt like you always had to bite your tongue to hold a decent conversation with someone. In turn, this scared a lot of people away, and resulted in a small but good group of friends that understood you.

For some reason though, you did well with confrontation. That was the only time you could force yourself to not care about what someone else thought about you. Other than that, your communication skills were almost useless.

“So go up to those kids and say hi.” Taylor responded.

You knew your best friend was being well meaning, but sometimes she felt like she oversimplified your problems because she saw it through her own lens. Of course it would be easy for Taylor to do so, but for you it would be a different story. Your stomach turned at even the mere thought of introducing yourself to the group of strangers that always sat all the way in the front of the lecture hall.

“I’ll just figure it out. I don't know how to just talk to people."

“What about that guy that I just saw you with? What was that about?”

You cleared your throat, fixing your attention to your laptop screen. Getting work done suddenly seemed more interesting.

“No, no, no look at me.” Taylor dragged your laptop away.

You begrudgingly looked at your friend. “What about him?”

“Who was that? He was kind of cute.” She cupped her cheek with her hand and sat closer, clearly interested. It was rare to see you with anyone other than your usual friend group so Taylor was invested in your endeavours outside of it.

You knew that if you told Taylor about your weird argument with a stranger, that she’d explain that you were unfriendly, that you needed to be nicer, etc. etc. You didn’t need a lecture today.

“Just some dude who finished using the table.”

Taylor chuckled, “What kind of guy says bye like that to a person he just met?”

Her guess was as good as yours.

—

ONE WEEK LATER

Determination is setting 25 morning alarms, pre-picking your clothes and opting for an on-the-go breakfast in order to just make it on time for class. You took your final strides towards the class slowly, knowing you finally had time on your side. Would it be crazy to call waking up at 6am a victory? Doesn’t matter, you were just so happy, you could answer Professor Hampton’s questions… that is, if you listened.

At the bottom of the lecture hall, sat the aforementioned groups, while the top were lonesome stragglers looking at their phones in an effort to look less lonely. You knew they were probably just reviewing their settings; turning their wifi on and off.

Professor Hampton cleared her throat into the microphone at the front of the class, prompting you to pick up the pace to your regular spot at the far left corner.

No way.

Your speed slowed down again, as you craned your head to get a better look at a brown-haired boy sitting by himself.

Despite the numerous empty seats to choose from, your caffeine rush assisted you in making the possibly dumb decision of sitting exactly right next to him. He seemed unbothered, though as he didn’t look up to question it.

Professor Hampton played her slides, while you pulled out your laptop out of your tote bag.

“Hey.” You whispered.

The man’s light brown eyes flickered towards you.

“You’re in this class?” Vernon whisper-exclaimed.

It registered in your brain that this might’ve been a mistake.

You nodded.

Vernon kept his focus on the front of the class, his pencil swivelled  away on his lined paper. You had never seen anyone actually take real-life notes before. You scanned his paper, pleasantly surprised at the organization.

“Why did you dap me up last week?”

“I honestly don’t know what I was doing.” He admitted.

Boys do dumb things around pretty girls. You'd seen it happen so many times with Taylor.

“She’s cute isn’t she?”

“Who?” Vernon was quick to play dumb, but he clearly knew. 

You were fascinated by how he was writing and listening to you at the same time.

“Taylor—my friend.”

Vernon squinted his eyes, either to think or because he couldn’t see the projection clearly. It made you wonder why he sat in the back of the class if that was the case.

“Yeah, she is.”

Bingo.

You silently relished in your impromptu decision to sit next to a stranger.

“What would you say if I got you a date with her?”

Vernon put his pencil down. “You strike me as the kind of person who wouldn’t do that out of the kindness of your heart.”

You snorted. “You’re right.”

Vernon let out a deep sigh, pushing his hoodie sleeve up his arms. He relaxed back in his seat and stared at you as he waited for your proposal.

“What is it?” His deep voice was littered with impatience but it was clear he was at least curious.

You weren’t  prepared to gain his full attention. Your mind went several ways as you collected your thoughts to be as concise as possible.

“I’m struggling in this class, okay? I can’t always make it on time, and creative writing? Not really something I’m interested in.”

“Then why’d you take the class?”

“Why does anyone do anything here? For the credit.” You responded as if the answer was obvious.

Vernon’s raised eyebrows was enough to tell you that he was actually passionate about this subject— which was perfect for you if you wanted to pass the class.

“How do I come into this, though?” His patience running thin from your incredibly interesting backstory.

“If you tutor me up until midterms and I pass, I’ll get you a date with Taylor.”

He shook his head “What if you fail?”

“Then you can take that as a reflection of your teaching skills,” Vernon rolled his eyes. Okay maybe that was a bad joke. “but on the plus side you’ve gained a new friendddddd.”

Professor Hampton gave you two a dirty look on her way back from shutting the lecture hall’s door. Vernon picked up his pencil to look busy and you tapped on your trackpad to turn the screen on.

“And what if I say no?” Vernon said between his teeth, catching the professor glare right at him with her scowl turned up to one hundred.

“Then I’ll shit talk about you to Taylor so you never have a chance.” You threatened. Your mom always urged you to use your brain, and boy, were you using it.

“You want me to teach you how to be creative?”

You shrugged. “I mean, how hard can it be?”

Vernon looked down at his notes contemplating his choices. He was silent for so long that you actually started typing notes.

“Y/N” Vernon whispered. You seemed to be fully immersed in the lesson now. Your eyes absorbing the information... Maybe writing was kind of fascinating.

“Y/N” He tried again, snapping you out of a trance.

“My bad.” you apologized. “I didn’t know the interesting part of the story was called the climax like ew—”

“I can only tutor you on Thursdays between 6 and 8 in the library. Bring your laptop and be prepared to learn.”

You knew you didn’t have class at those hours, so it should’ve been fine, but you also dreaded staying after school longer than you had to.

“What about 4-6?” You pleaded.

Vernon looked offended at your counter offer. “No. 6-8”

“4:30…?” You tried once again.

Vernon snorted at your no-quit attitude. “You wanna pass or not?”

You stuck out your hand defeatedly and Vernon shook on it before either of you could change your mind. Vernon was your new tutor.

Maybe Taylor was right. All you had to do was go up to someone and say “hi.”

And blackmail them. And use your friend as bait.

Making friends was easy.

#omg I’m scared??? but excited #vernon chwe #vernon #vernon seventeen #seventeen #svt #kpop fanfic #seventeen fanfic #kpop #seventeen imagine #tutor!vernon #student!vernon #kpop writing #seventeen oneshot #svt fluff #enemies to ?? #kpop fluff #vernon fanfic #vernon scenarios #vernon fluff #vernon imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #vernon fanfics #vernon x you #vernon x reader #svt scenarios

[outhereinnevada]

Bro can i get uhhhhhhhh fricking angst with hoffnar as hes becoming tricky and y/n trying to help him? You can decide what happens when he becomes tricky

Oh boy, time for the angsty tears to come rollin' down. TO VALHALLA!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Disaster in the Making - Hoffnar/Tricky x Reader

"Hoffnar, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Don't worry my dear, I'm sure this will work...I'm sure of it."

Dr. Hoffnar was testing new theories and practices to make his masterpiece, the Improbability Drive. You were his assistant and had grown particularly fond of him of the past few years working with him.

"I just don't think we should be messing with reality and playing god like this. This is could lead to disaster."

"You worry too much s/o! With the right calculations, this device will be completely safe to use."

Your worried expression lightened a little, Hoffnar took your hand into his as a sign of reassurance. You sighed.

"If you're sure dear, then I'll trust you. You've proven to me and Christoff time and time again that your genius always pulls through in the end."

If only that were true to this case.

---------------------------------------

"HOFFNAR!"

The facility was in shambles, the walls and ceiling were collapsing. A recent experiment with the Improbability Drive had gone horribly wrong.

You had volunteered to test it out for them. They had managed to find a way to get into The Other Place without dying. With a safety harness strapped around you, you started exploring The Other Place when suddenly the lab was raided by Nexus Agents, a stray bullet hit the pulley wire that was meant to bring you back and it left you stranded in The Other Place.

"S/O!"

He tried to do everything he could to reel you back in, but it was too late. You were gone, as the power shutdown to put the facility in lockdown, the entrance to The Other Place closed.

Once the Nexus Agents were dealt with, Hoffnar dropped to his knees in disbelief. The love of his life was gone, never to return. Christoff attempt to comfort him, but nothing could ever replace you.

Meanwhile in The Other Place, you had eventually landed in the side of Hell, you tried looking for a way out, but it was fruitless. You had spent many years in Hell at this point though it only felt like a few months.

Surviving off mere scraps, you wandered for ages before coming upon a bright red, glowing wall. It was lightly cracked, you slammed your fist against it with a satisfactory result. Continuing to break the wall, you made a sizable hole that you could fit through.

"Finally, I'm able to get out of this place."

The injuries you sustained wandering through Hell started to ache a bit as you went through the hole in the wall.

Getting through to the other side, you faceplanted onto a cold lab floor, the clatter of your bag full of weapons and food caught the attention of a certain someone still inside the facility.

"Hello? Who's there?"

Quick footsteps were heard coming down the halls before the rusted metal door opened to reveal a very dishevelled Hoffnar in...a clown costume?

"s/o? Is that...really you?"

His voice was incredibly unsteady, going from high-pitched to the normal voice you knew.

"Hoffnar..."

You got up quickly and embraced him, you'd waited so long to see him again. His arms hesitantly but surely wrapped around you as well.

"I-I can't believe it, you're...alive. After all these years s/o."

"Years? How long have I been gone for?"

He looked you in the eyes before sighing.

"Too long my dear...too long...Me and Christoff thought you weren't ever gonna come back."

The tears threatened to fall from his eyes, you gently brushed them away with your hand.

"Oh Hoffnar, every waking moment I was in there, I thought of you. I'm not leaving you again."

You took his hand into yours as a sign of reassurance, just like he did years ago. He led you out of the lab and to his home, a small but functioning house.

When you were walking to the house with him, you couldn't help but notice the occasional shaking from him.

"Hoffnar, are you alright dear? You're shaking a little."

He flinched, he really didn't want to tell you, but alas, he gave in.

"The Improbability Drive. I-I put a portable version of it that I made into me. I thought I had died, but it brought me back."

You clutched Hoffnar's hand tighter and brought him closer to you.

"It's fine, as long as you're here, I don't care. Just know that I'm here to help you Hoffnar."

His heart fluttered knowing you were there to support him, but at the same time he could feel his mind slowly slipping away.

---------------------------------------

The time you had spent with Hoffnar, you had noticed overtime that he would crack a lot more jokes around you and just generally be really playful at times.

He started to get really into the clown getup, hell, he even started make his own little performances with the stagename "Tricky" around Nevada. You came along to a few of those, you enjoyed them. If he was happy, so were you.

He eventually dropped his old name and stuck with Tricky and decided to go with his trademark clown voice, though you would still call him Hoffnar if things were serious.

He started to become a little distant when he was called in by the Sheriff to try and take of the problem with a certain individual. Hank J. Wimbleton. The massive killing spree Hank was on caught the attention of the Sheriff who called upon certain people to try and take Hank down, Tricky was one of them.

"Don't worry s/o! I'll return, no problem!"

You smiled at his cheerful expression and waved farewell to the clown.

"Come home safe Tricky! I'll be eagerly awaiting your return!"

It had been a couple of days now and Tricky still hadn't come home, your anxiety ate at you. Did he kill Hank like he was tasked to? Did he die? You couldn't handle the thought of your significant other perishing, but he had the Improbability Drive, surely he would be fine.

-------------------------------------

You noticed that the sky got incredibly dark after a couple days, no sun, just a glaring red horizon.

You sat wrapped in a blanket on the couch when you heard the door open, you quickly turned to see who it was. Your heart dropped, it was Tricky, but his skin was a rotten green colour, he wore a mask over his face, a bloody stop sign rested in his hand, if you looked close enough, you could see his exposed jaw.

"Tricky? Wh-What happened to you?"

He looked to floor in disgust and shame.

"Clown couldn't beat Hank, ended up becoming a zombie, but Clown is eager for another fight!"

His entire body was shaking and he spoke in third person all of a sudden, you figured this had something to do with the Improbability Drive.

"Tricky, for now, Let's just rest. I missed you and I don't want to lose you again..."

The undead clown sat down with you and tried to keep himself as still as possible. He held you gently, nuzzling into you.

"Clown will not let you be alone again...That is a promise."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

I choked up a few times while writing this. Hope this satisfies your angst desire anon!

#madcom x reader #madcom reader insert #madcom tricky #madcom tricky x reader #madness combat reader insert #madness combat tricky x reader #madness combat tricky #madcom #madness combat x reader #madness combat

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

still want that, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader, ex-yoongi x reader

summary: Fucking Min Yoongi ex-girlfriend? A terrible idea. Being hopelessly in love with her at the same time? An even worse idea. Knowing he was being used and still doing it anyway? Ah, Jeon Jungkook, what are you doing?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, angst, a whole lot of pining; smut (fem reader, m and f-receiving oral, doggy, mentions of cowgirl, penetrative sex); a whole lot of feels; non-idol!AU; Jungkook’s POV; ex-boyfriend Yoongi is not very nice, oof

‘savage love’ is Jungkook/reader smut after she’s freshly broken up. pretty much just based on the song, lol the original one-shot is less than 3k words and this is a little over 6k XD

--

Two weeks later, Jeon Jungkook witnessed another woman crawling into Min Yoongi’s lap.

She was wearing a tight dress and high heels, with an awfully familiar face shape. Jungkook knew this because the same face shape had blown him two weeks earlier. This woman’s lips weren’t as nice though. Her eyes weren’t as pretty and she didn’t laugh the way Jungkook liked. He watched her speaking to Yoongi, his bored expression indicating he had no interest, but he was letting it happen because it was attention and Yoongi wanted attention. That’s why he finally emerged from the cave that was his apartment anyway.

Jungkook couldn’t believe Yoongi wasn’t even trying to win her back.

In fact, it made him furious.

He looked away, turning back to Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin’s bickering over… nothing really. They sort of bickered like an old married couple and then the conversation eventually turned into one of them agreeing with the other and they made up. Usually because they would say the same thing at the same time and then be amazed, even though it happened all the time.

Sometimes, Jungkook felt like a third wheel in this soulmate energy.

Most of the time, Jungkook would be out on the floor, finding someone to spend the night with. But it didn’t feel right anymore. She hadn’t contacted him since that day and yet Jungkook didn’t care. He couldn’t think about anyone else. He knew it was stupid. He knew he should let it go, because she obviously was just doing whatever and whoever she wanted, but he didn’t care.

He just kept waiting for her to come back to him.

She did promise.

She was still Yoongi’s ex-girlfriend and Jungkook knew he shouldn’t even try because they were still friends, no matter how annoyed he was with Yoongi’s behavior right now. Bros before hoes.

Or whatever.

He suddenly felt a hand slip onto his shoulder, up his neck, cupping his cheek. Jungkook jumped, turning his head. Short black pleated skirt. Tight little white top. Silver studded black leather jacket. The same teasing, cocked eyebrow, the one that belonged to the very person he had just been thinking about. His eyes widened. She leaned down, eyes shifting to her right. Staring at Yoongi. Of course, she was staring at Yoongi.

She pressed her lips to his, sliding her tongue into his mouth, making him breathless within seconds. Holding his jaw, inhaling his scent, almost as if they were lovers, almost as if he was the only one, almost as if she saved this kiss just for him.

Jungkook knew it wasn’t true, but he still wanted the kiss anyway.

She broke the kiss, releasing his face. Her eyes lingered on his, only for a second, before she smirked and turned around, walking back into the crowd.

“Jungkook!”

He started, lips still tingling, jerking his head around to face Jimin and Taehyung, who were staring at him, shocked. Oh right. They didn’t know they fucked.

“That’s Yoongi-hyung’s ex!” Jimin scolded.

Jungkook sputtered. “S-she just walked up t-to me–”

He turned around, seeing Yoongi’s vicious scowl, shoving the other woman away from him. Jungkook threw up his hands, shaking his head furiously. He snapped back to Jimin and Taehyung.

“I swear, guys, I don’t know why she did that–”

“Jungkook.”

He froze. The ice-cold snarl came from behind him. He swallowed, turning around slowly. Yoongi looked furious. Violently furious. Jungkook hadn’t answered his phone that time when she was in his apartment, completely ignoring the multiple calls from Yoongi and his friends. It wasn’t that uncharacteristic for him to ignore calls. And besides, it wasn’t Yoongi’s business anymore, right?

Yoongi’s black hair shrouded his eyes, making them darker than usual.

“The fuck was that?”

Jungkook opened his mouth, but a cool, calm voice answered for him.

“It was none of your fucking business, Yoongi.”

She appeared, holding a shot glass. Probably whiskey, a habit she had picked up from her ex-boyfriend. The former lovers stared each other down, far too uncomfortable for anyone else in the room. Yoongi narrowed his eyes at her.

“I think it is my fucking business.”

She took a sip of her whiskey, shifting her weight to one hip. “What was it that you said again?” She pretended to think. “Oh, right. That I would fuck anything that walked, isn’t that it?” She drowned the whole glass, slamming it onto the table Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook were staring. Everyone was staring now, music still blaring.

“Guess what? Jungkook’s got legs and I’m going to fuck him.”

She crossed her arms, looking Yoongi up and down, disdain in her eyes.

“Or maybe I already have and you just don’t know it yet.”

Yoongi stiffened, glaring at her. “I was right about you.”

She glared back, just as icily. “Ah, but I had the decency to wait until things were over between us, unlike you. And,” she continued, eyes flickering to the woman who was all over Yoongi moments earlier and then to Jungkook, smirk growing on her lips. “The people I choose to lip-lock with are way hotter than your choices.”

And with that, she reached over and grabbed Jungkook’s hand, yanking him out of his seat. Jungkook stumbled, his long hair falling onto his face, hand trapped in her tight grip.

“Jungkook, don’t,” Taehyung warned.

He turned around to see Yoongi’s face, the hurt evident in his eyes despite his pointed scowl. Yoongi turned away quickly, scoffing.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he spat.

“You never did,” she shot back, dragging Jungkook away.

-

“Shouldn’t you–”

She slammed him against her car, kissing him hungrily, desperately, clearly upset. Jungkook gasped, feeling her hands all over his white shirt, thighs pressed against his black slacks. She smelled strongly of cheery perfume and whiskey. His body reacted immediately, hips bucking into hers, moaning into her mouth. If he had resolve, it crumbled instantly with her touch, the way she pressed her fingers into his shirt, holding him close as she nipped at his lips.

He wanted to say, shouldn’t you cool off? Shouldn’t you go home and not do this?

But Jungkook couldn’t, because she was finally in his arms again and he couldn’t help himself, he just kept kissing her, even if he knew she was just doing it to piss Yoongi off. Even if she probably didn’t care about his feelings at all.

She probably didn’t even give two fucks.

Suddenly, she broke the kiss, panting. “Sorry I didn’t talk to you for a while,” she muttered. “Had a… lot on my mind. Didn’t see anyone, really.”

But she gave at least one and that was enough.

“It’s okay,” Jungkook breathed, chest tight. “I understand.”

She nodded. Her eyes searched his face, half-illuminated by the streetlights. He couldn’t quite figure out her expression. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, his jaw, his neck, so many kisses, all over him, making him melt and shudder.

“Wanna make your feel good,” she said against his skin. “Right here, right now.”

“You could simply look at me and I would feel good.”

She paused, lips hovering over his skin. Hands still on his waist, holding him close. Jungkook leaned down, kissing her ear softly. Her nails dug into his shirt, scraping his back a little. He whined pleadingly, his hands coming up to hold her hips, pressing them against his crotch.

“Do whatever you want,” he whispered into her ear. “Please.”

He didn’t care that he was in some random parking lot. He didn’t care that Jimin, Taehyung, or even Yoongi could run out and yell at him at any time, telling him to stop. She could have picked anyone but she picked him, even if only for tonight, and he still wanted it, knowing it was definitely not fair.

Jungkook really, really didn’t care.

“Okay,” she finally said. “But I changed my mind.”

His heart stopped.

“Gonna take you home and fuck you there instead.”

-

Her hands curled in his long hair, hips to his, dry humping him on his own fucking bed. He gasped at her roughness, her kisses firm but coy, toying with his lips with her teeth. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he wrenched it out, intending to throw it as far as he could, but she caught his hand.

“Don’t do that,” she chuckled against his lips. “Just turn it off.”

He chewed on his lip and nodded, turning it towards him. Missed calls, multiple messages. He ignored them all, sending the screen to black. She took his phone from him, sliding it under his pillows.

“Jungkook.”

He was panting hard, black curls all over his face from her hands, pupils blown wide in the semi-darkness of his own bedroom.

“You really still want me?”

She said it with a teasing tone. The moonlight reflected off of her smooth skin, her smirk, her cocked eyebrow. Jungkook couldn’t discern the expression in her eyes. They seemed almost bottomless. And yet those little moments, the way she said his name, the way her fingers tightened around his hand, that smile she gave him before she left the first time.

He held onto those moments tightly.

“Yes.”

She slid down his body, yanking his white shirt out of his pants, pushing it up, lips attaching to his abs, gentle kitten licks setting his skin on fire. Jungkook arched his back, whining, trying to get more of himself into her mouth. Her lips brushed against his skin as she spoke and he drank up every word, becoming drunk with her praise.

“Look at you,” she breathed, undoing his pants, palming him through his underwear. “You’re so fucking hot, Jungkook, you know that?” She pressed her lips against his throbbing cock through the fabric and he moaned her name, desperate for skin-on-skin, caught in her current and following it blindly. She shuddered, breath heating his aching member. “Your voice is so fucking sexy, fuck, I love listening to you moan for me.”

She grabbed the waistband of his underwear and pulled it down his legs, shoving it and his pants down to his knees. For a panicked second, he thought she was going to tease his balls again, but she wrapped her lips around his cock, tongue pressing against the head.

“A-ah, fuck, yes…”

He wished he could sound less pathetic and more in control, but the truth was that he wasn’t, especially as she hummed, lowering her head, the tip of his cock scraping against the roof of her mouth, roughly stimulated and then choked by the back of her throat. He could hear her whimper and he wanted to ask if she was okay, but then she began to move, bobbing her head up and down ferally, hands on his bed. It was like she was ramming his cock into her own mouth, building up speed, saliva slipping out, messy and filthy. And yet the deeper his cock went, the tighter it became, her throat gripping him, almost too much for the sensitive skin of the head.

Jungkook was a gasping mess, confused on how this blowjob was so different from the last one but still just as good, confused as to how there were even different blowjob techniques to begin with, confused to how he never knew about this, how could he ever want another mouth as she ticked her head with each thrust, adding an extra swipe of her tongue to increase the sensation. His eyes rolled back into his head, hands flying up and grabbing his pillows, clutching them as he came, hips rising to fuck her mouth in time with his lengthy moan, feeling saliva drip down his thighs. She tightened her lips at the base of his cock and it throbbed in her mouth, shooting strings of cum into her throat.

She held her mouth there as his body slowly descended, dipping back into the bed. His body felt electrified, shivering with pleasure. Jungkook panted, opening his eyes, not realizing he had shut them when he came. He looked down, feeling her carefully pulling her head back. He gasped as his cock popped out of her mouth, her lips pursed. Her eyes flickered to his.

A small smirk danced on her lips.

Jungkook watched with fascination as her hand came up, lightly holding his cock out of the way. Then her plump lips parted slightly. A thin white stream of cum and saliva dripped down, splattering against his balls, still warm from her mouth, coating them.

Holy fuck.

The act was so dirty that he was breathless. She swallowed the rest before her head dipped down, eyes still on his. Her tongue extended, scooping up the mixture and eating it back up, lapping at his skin with her soft motions. He felt his jaw drop, staring at her holding his cock, licking his own cum off his balls that she had spat out.

“You…”

He couldn’t form any more words. She sucked them clean, shivers running through him as she moaned around them, his name vibrating his own balls. Holy fuck. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. How could Yoongi not want her back? How could Yoongi not want this?

His hyung was a fucking idiot.

She finally rose, stretching out her neck. Her leather jacket slid off her shoulders, pushed aside. Jungkook sat up, feeling the wet spots on his sheets, but not caring as he tugged his shirt off, far too hot anyway. His eyes lingered over her body, watching her pull off the tight white top, the thick fabric releasing her breasts, large nipples already hard and poking out at him. She noticed his gaze, tweaking her nipples at him with her fingers.

“You are the most beautiful woman in the world,” Jungkook whispered softly.

She smirked.

Jungkook knew that he was turning his own world upside-down. He knew none of this was good for his sanity. He knew all of this as he crawled to her, pushing the rest of his clothes down his legs and shoving them off the bed. None of this was fair to him and this was the most savage love he would ever experience, but he wanted nothing else, nothing but her lips on his, still tasting like his salty cum, her hands caressing his body and pulling him close. He gasped as her nipples touched his skin, rubbing her chest against his. He reached under her pleated skirt, yanking her panties down her thighs.

The scent of sex hit him in the face, so strong, so intoxicating, mixing with her cherry perfume, so arousing that he felt his cock twitch, getting hard already, wanting her, needing her. And it was all wrong, remembering the pain in Yoongi’s eyes before he looked away, but she handed Jungkook a condom and he opened it, sliding it over his cock, moaning as he watched her turn around, hooking a finger and twisting her panties, slipping them down her calves and off her feet, tossing them to his floor. Ass in the air, inviting him in.

“Fuck me, Jungkook.” Her voice a breathless plea. “Fuck me like you own me.”

He got to his knees, holding her hips, sliding in slowly, bit by bit, eyes closing as he pushed in, so tight, hissing her name as he buried himself inside her warmth. She squeezed his cock, rolling her hips back into him.

“Please, Jungkook…”

She was using him to get what she wanted but he really didn’t care, biting his lip and ramming his hips into her, gasping at how good it felt, how perfectly they fit together. Her walls massaged his length as he thrust into her, loudly slapping his crotch into her ass. He watched her hands grip his sheets, heard her say his name over and over as he fucked her harder, faster, burning her voice into his memory. Because in his moment, she was his.

In this moment, her head turned, eyes half-lidded, her pink tongue licking her lower lip.

“Fuck, Jungkook, you’re so good at fucking me.”

Her whole body was jerking forward with the force of his thrusts. She closed her eyes and threw her head back in ecstasy, moaning as she came around him, pussy pulsating around his cock, hips trembling in his hands. Jungkook knew he was completely fucked, absolutely in love with the wrong person, but there was nothing be could do about it. He fucked her through her orgasm, pressing a hand on her back to get a deeper angle, groaning as he felt her tighten around him.

“Yes, Jungkook, oh, fuck, yeeees…”

She felt so good, the scent of her orgasm driving him insane, her sounds so erotic that he clenched his jaw, punishingly fucking her into the bed, his thighs screaming at him, until the taut string inside him snapped, pleasure knocking the wind out of his lungs, a choked gasp of her name as he shot into the condom, cock twitching into her walls, cum choked out by her second orgasm pumping him. She turned her head, smirking, looking satisfied and spent.

“Jungkook-ah…”

It was almost real, the way she waited as he fished for the condom, holding it to him as he pulled out, almost real as she crawled over to him, kissing him softly, almost lovingly, almost…

Jungkook got up to clean himself off and came back to her putting her clothes back on. Shrugging on her leather jacket. His heart sank, seeing her beautiful form covered back up. She seemed to notice his gaze and, for a moment, they stared at each other. Him, naked, in the doorframe of his bedroom, her next to his bed.

She took a step towards him. Then another. Then another, until they were side by side, and Jungkook closed his eyes, fully aware that it would end like this, but hating it anyway. 

He felt her hand on his shoulder, caressing his skin. 

Jungkook turned his head, eyes opening. Her index finger poked him in the cheek when he faced her, making him freeze and his lips part, staring into her eyes, the fogged windows of her soul. 

She smiled at him, shrouded by moonlight. 

"See you, Jungkook."

And then she removed her hand and sauntered out of his apartment. 

-

"You're going to get hurt."

"It's not worth it."

"He's obviously still in love with her."

"She might even still be in love with him."

Jungkook heard all these things from his friends, but he didn't care. He didn't care, because the second he opened the door and she was standing there in her leather jacket, crop top, and tight miniskirt, no one else mattered. 

"Even if she does like you," Park Jimin had told him gently. "It's obvious that you're just a rebound right now, because of everything that's happened."

He knew that. He knew it, and yet he pulled her into his arms, lips pressed against hers, murmuring her name, shutting his front door. 

"She's using you to provoke Yoongi."

Jungkook knew that too and still he cupped her face in his hands, kissing her all over, enjoying the feeling of her hands slipping under his t-shirt. He loved they way she quickly stripped off his clothes, with frenzy and need. 

He wanted to tell her, "Don't go." 

She took his breath away, body on top of his, riding him, driving him insane with her soft noises and pleas of his name. Holding his hands, slapping her hips into his. 

He wanted to say, "Please stay with me."

Her hands tangled in his hair as he folded her in half, fucking her into his bed, hot breath mixing with hers as she moaned. Always praising him and reminding him of how good he was, how nice he felt. 

He wanted to scream, "I promise I'll never try to hurt you. I promise to always try to protect your heart. I promise I love you."

But in the end, she always shrugged on her studded leather jacket, the metal causing sunlight to scatter over his bedroom wall, haloing around her like golden feathery wings, her hair glistening in the dying sunset. She would notice his gaze on her and she would lean over and kiss him with a smirk and a mischievous sparkle in her eye.

And she would say, "See you, Jungkook."

And he would say, "Okay."

His front door would close and he would bury his face into his pillows, inhaling her cherry perfume and the scent of her cum. 

-

One time, he hesitated.

She said, "See you, Jungkook." And he paused, staring up at her longingly, not saying anything. Her hand lingered on his cheek, his lips still tingling from her last kiss. His hand came up and touched hers, holding it there. 

Don't let go. 

She smiled and leaned in again. A second kiss, a deep press of lips to lips, no teasing tongue. Then she backed up, pulling her hand out from his. 

"There's no other guy," she said softly. "Only you."

And she left, as usual, but with these additional words sweeping him away, lost in these little moments she gave him, clutching his pillows against his chest and trying to calm his racing heart. 

-

It made every happenstance and mention of Yoongi's antics enrage Jungkook more and more, hearing of and witnessing the different women Yoongi took home all the time, all of them with one or two characteristics of her, but never the whole package, because the whole package was on his doorstep with a teasing smirk and cocked eyebrow. And it was so obvious that she was still hurt, that maybe even a little bit of her still hoped. Jungkook saw it in her eyes, even when he was deep inside her, her eyes trying to hide it all and bury it away.

He knew he was being used, but he still let her come back.

He wanted to strangle Yoongi, even though he was obviously in the wrong too.

But the reality was…

He just wanted her to love him back. 

Even if only a little. 

-

"I'm sorry."

Jungkook knew that low, raspy voice, laced with alcohol, most likely whiskey. He froze, backing up against the brick wall next to the nightclub. Inside was violent noise, but outside, in this night, next to this alley, it was eerily quiet.

"Little late for that, isn't it?"

And Jungkook knew that voice too, his heart sinking, knowing that playful smirk was speaking to her ex-lover once again. At least there was a hint of annoyance. Jungkook heard the rustle of leather, her soft exhale as Yoongi pressed her body into the brick wall with his. 

"Yes, but I mean it this time."

A sharp bark of disbelieving laughter. "Just like how you mean to go home with different sluts every night to try and forget about me?"

The rasp became sharper, cutting. "And you consistently fuck him. One of my best friends, no less."

Jungkook was surprised that Yoongi did not speak about him in past tense. He thought for sure Yoongi hated him, but it seemed like his rage was aimed at her, twisted with regret. 

"Guess we're both past forgiveness."

He could hear heavy breathing. Leather on leather, the distinct sound of Yoongi and her together, hands on skin, soft lustful panting. No. Please no. Jungkook's stomach turned into a heavy knot.

"We could let it go," Yoongi murmured. "Forget about it all and come home to me."

The knot inside him twisted as a vulgar smack cut through the stale night air, followed by her soft gasp. Yoongi's hand on her ass. The sound of nails on skin, and then lips to lips. Jungkook felt his glass heart tumble, tumble, cracking as he replayed every one of their moments; her grip on his hands as he heard her moan into Yoongi's lips; her smile to him before she stepped out his front door as Yoongi grunted, shoving her hips into his; her lips forming his name – "Jungkook-ah…" – as the kiss broke, shudders exchanged in the narrow alley as Jungkook stood at the outskirts, listening.

Holding his glass heart, fractured in every corner, so many facets he couldn't see his own reflection anymore. 

"That was the most insincere kiss you've ever given me, Min Yoongi."

And then there was a flash of leather and swift running as the combat boots flew past him, short skirt flaring with each step, not seeing him, only shooting past like a black comet into the black night. Upset, untouchable, unhindered by the heavy sigh in the alley. Yoongi clicked his tongue, cursing to himself, his boot kicking the brick wall, sound so loud it seemed to eat up the night. 

Jungkook clutched his glass heart and ran after her. 

-

His fist pounded at her door, hurting his knuckles on the metal, scraping them against the number. He had never been here before, never seen her apartment. She lived in a small, run-down complex. His chest was tight, lungs on fire as he had chased after her, following from bus stops to streets, almost losing her at several points. He had waited after she entered her apartment, pacing, unsure what he wanted to do. Unsure whether to scream, to plead, to cry, but, in the end, he just slammed his fist against the door and shut his eyes.

Because, in the end, all he wanted was to see her face.

The door wrenched open.

Jungkook started, throwing himself away from the door. And there she was. Wearing baggy gray sweatpants and a violently short crop top, a white t-shirt cut too high, her movement providing the daintiest flash of under-boob. She looked livid at first, but her features softened instantly when she saw him.

“Jungkook?”

Her voice small, surprised. The light behind her seemed to be low to the ground, so her face and body were lit from below, a pale-yellow glow.

His hands shot forward, his body moving before he had time to think. He grabbed her face, pulling it to him, pressing his lips to hers, closing his eyes and inhaling her cherry perfume, trying to tell her, I love you, I love you, I love you, and he almost sobbed with how soft her lips were, how perfectly they fit against his. Trying to say, please be mine, please know that with this kiss, I am giving you everything I have, his hands pressing into her cheeks, stroking her temples and her jaw with his fingertips. She gasped into his mouth and he tilted his head, kissing her harder, pushing her into her apartment, kicking the door closed behind him.

Jungkook finally backed off to breathe, still holding her face, staring into her slightly unfocused eyes, still trying to process what was happening.

“What about this kiss?” His voice cracked a little, on the verge of crying. “Does this kiss have the sincerity you’re looking for?”

And then her attention was fully on him, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“I was there,” Jungkook whispered guiltily. “Because Taehyung told me Yoongi was out and you were there and I couldn’t… I couldn’t stand knowing he was so close to you after hurting you so much.” His hands slid down, holding her shoulders, his breath shuddering. “Please… Please don’t give him any more chances.”

Jungkook pressed his forehead against hers.

“I know you are just using me to feel better. I know that. Use me as much as you want. I don’t care. But please…”

He closed his eyes, pushing the tears back, choking out his words.

“Please don’t kiss him anymore.”

And then Jungkook lifted his head, kissing her again, hungrier this time, trying to patch his fears with lust, sliding his hands down her shoulders to her arms, pulling her close. Her breathing hitched as he shoved her into his chest, feeling her nipples through his black shirt. He moaned into her mouth, touching her back and running his hands over her bare skin. She had to grab the waistband of his jeans to prevent herself from losing balance, gasping as he kissed down her neck fervently, nipping at her throat. He murmured her name into her hot skin, sucking on it.

“J-Jungkook…”

His tongue ran over her collarbones, dipping in between them, rolling his hips into hers, savoring the sensation of her body against his. He kicked his shoes off, scattering them as he walked them into further and further into her apartment. Her skin trembled under him, fingers tightening on the belt loops of his jeans. Right up against the wall, pressing her into it, yanking down her gray sweatpants, and she gasped, startled by his need. He pushed her panties down to her knees, trailing kisses down her stomach, fingers pressed into her hips.

“A-ah, Jungkook…”

And he was drunk, drunk on the way she said his name, lost in the sensation of her skin against his lips and the scent of her sex, so strong and sweet and powerful that he buried his nose into it, moaning hotly into her wet opening. He pulled one of her legs out of her pants and fitted it onto his shoulder. The moment his tongue touched her juices, his grip tightened, shoving her hips into his face. Her lovely taste coated his tongue as he thrust it into her. She whined above him, hands tangling in his hair as he began to lick, shuddering as she became slicker, the taste sharpening as he played with her clit, lapping at it roughly. Holding her in place, not stopping, coaxing her to her peak, pushing her to the edge.

His tongue, his, doing this to her, unraveling her in his arms, and overwhelming her with lust.

“Jungkook, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Her hips rutted into his face and he loved it, latching his lips onto her clit, licking and sucking as her viscous juices slid down his chin, dripping onto his neck. He kept going, feelings her thighs tense and hearing his name falling from her lips in her ecstasy. She tasted even better, sweet with a hint of sour, and he slipped his head downwards, moan muffled as he ate up her orgasm, her soft thigh pressed against his cheek.

He licked her tenderly, working her through the aftershocks before he released her leg, standing back up. She was panting, pupils blown wide, blinking rapidly as he kissed her again, smearing her juices on her chin. She whimpered against his mouth, hands clutching his shirt as he sucked on her tongue, taking the hem of her shirt and pulling it up, only breaking the kiss to remove it from her head. It made her hair even messier than before, falling in waves around her face, framing it perfectly.

His eyes on her face, knowing he was so deeply in love that he was drowning.

“I want to fuck you,” he breathed.

His hand came up and cupped her cheek. He leaned in, eyelids closing, pressing his lips to hers, speaking into them.

“I want to love you.”

Gentle, soft pecks onto those perfect plump lips.

“Let me love you,” he whispered, placing his free hand over hers, the ones still gripping his shirt.

His heart was beating so fast that it felt like it was vibrating in his ribcage.

“Jungkook, w-wait…”

And he really didn’t want to wait, he wanted to tell her to shut up and let him make love to her, but he paused, finally opening his eyes to her ashamed expression, looking away. She closed her eyes, shaking her head, releasing him and backing up a little. It was like he was suddenly hollow, carved out when she removed her body heat from his. She still wasn’t looking at him, eyes opening to gaze at the far wall. His eyes followed hers.

And he gasped.

She didn’t have a living room. Instead, the large space littered with easels, canvases, and paper. Tubs and tubs of paint, all kinds, watercolor, oil, acrylic, gouache, all colors, everywhere. Paint-covered cups with dirty water and palettes of dried paint all over the floor. And on the far wall, a large canvas leaned against it, covered in colorful paint strokes. It took up the whole wall, and there was even a step ladder near it so she could reach the top.

Jungkook was breathless.

Absolutely breathless.

He took a step towards it.

Because in striking, full detail, she had captured his face in various shades of blue, pink, yellow, and orange. Only tiny points of black for emphasis. The negative white space carved out his features, the curve of his neck, the broadness of his shoulders. His long curly hair in blue and pink, his eyes in orange and yellow, sparkling, even with the wrinkles that appeared when he smiled, his cheeks round from how big he was smiling.

She had even added the moles on his cheek, nose, and underneath his lower lip.

It was unmistakably him. Jeon Jungkook.

“W-what…?”

He looks back at her. She looked embarrassed.

“It’s not very good,” she chuckled nervously. “Sorry, I…” She pointed at it awkwardly and lowered her hand just as quickly. She tried to start a sentence, but shook her head. Instead, she breathed in deeply so she could speak evenly. “When I paint, I don’t plan anything. I do it when I’m stressed, so none of it is any good.” She rubbed the back of her head, using her other hand to point to the mess.

“I got a huge canvas and started painting, because of the whole…”

She looked pained. She sucked her lips in her mouth, slowly releasing them. Then she sighed.

“I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Jungkook made eye contact.

“It’s me.”

She chuckled, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

He turned back to stare at it, stare at himself smiling out to the room in stunning color. This huge canvas wasn’t Min Yoongi. It was him. Him, Jeon Jungkook. She had painted him, larger than life, clearly visible in her apartment, unable to avoid the large canvas. He had only missed it because he had been so upset and focused on her. But the truth was, he was always here.

Here, smiling at her when she got home.

“I don’t look this good,” Jungkook muttered.

She laughed, that beautiful laugh he loved so much. He felt her walk up to him, nudging his side.

“Yes, you do. You always look amazing.”

“Not when I wake up.”

She shrugged. “I’ve seen you wake up after a night of drinking. You’re adorable.”

Jungkook felt his ears heat. There was a long silence of him studying all the details.

“He knows.”

She sighed, heavily.

“He saw it one night. When he came over to try to convince me to take him back. I hadn’t finished much, but he could tell it was you.” She pointed to the mole under his lower lip. “Because of this.”

“You noticed.”

She smirked. Then she turned back to painting. “He was really mad. I hadn’t painted anyone else before him. Before Yoongi, I only painted scenes and random objects. Not people.” Her eyes roamed over the large canvas. “I painted him a lot, on smaller canvases and paper. He has them all, somewhere. Maybe he’s burned them now. I don’t know. But when he saw this, I think he knew, even before me.” Her voice was getting smaller and smaller. “He knew I was falling out of love with him.”

She looked away, to a point Jungkook couldn’t see, into the past.

“I wondered if It would feel the same, if I kissed him again. I wondered if he would still give me the same excitement, the same desire.” She closed her eyes. “But I didn’t feel anything.”

She lifted her head and looked at him, the Jungkook in blue, pink, orange, and yellow.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook.” It seemed like she was speaking to the painting because she couldn’t face him. “I’m sorry for being so cruel to you.” Her lips curved into a sad smile. Her eyes flitted to every corner of the large painting, arms around her naked body, hugging herself, an empty, lonely feeling surrounding her as she spoke.

“Love is fleeting anyway.”

Jungkook reached out and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him. He pressed his nose into her hair, inhaling deeply.

“Stop listening to his stupid words and listen to me,” he mumbled. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I’ll tell you a thousand times. A million times, until you believe me. Stay with me and I’ll tell you every day, every night, all the time.”

“You… deserve better than me, Jungkook.”

“I don’t care,” he retorted stubbornly. “Is another woman going to paint an entire wall of my face? No. I love you.” And you love me, he wanted to add. I know you do, because I can see it right in front of my face, even if you can’t.

She lowered her head, burying her face in his arms.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she mumbled, a shudder running through her.

Jungkook thought of all those times, those confident smirks, those powerful strides, her strong words and firm affirmations. Everyone thought she had it all together. Everyone thought she was over Yoongi, because she had shot him down so hard. So cool that she was able to be so self-assured.

But the truth was here, painted in vivid color.

He placed his lips on the top of her head, kissing her softly.

“Why me?” he whispered.

He heard her chuckle at the familiar question.

“If you want the truth,” she murmured into his forearms. “I don’t know. I only went over to your apartment because I thought…” She raised her head, sighing apologetically. “I thought, ‘It’s going to be easy giving Jungkook a mind-blowing orgasm.’”

“I had two, in fact.”

She really did have a beautiful laugh.

“Now I’m corrupted,” Jungkook teased, squeezing her in his arms. “I won’t leave you alone.”

She looked up at the painting. Her tone was different now, less sad, warmer.

“No, I guess you won’t.”

--

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #bts smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader

[cuddlesslut]

Part Eight: Hope

Atsumu x fem reader , Suna x fem Reader, Hinata x Fem reader

A/N: I’m so sorry it took so long to put out this chapter I’m gunna try to do better on posting faster. I’ve had a lot of stuff happening irl. I love see so many of your write in for the poll 😂 I did not expect Sakusa to pop off! I hope y’all like this chapter. Again it’s still kind of short but I wanted to get it posted. Also you can’t convince me Hinata doesn’t use an all in one cleanser!

Warning: crude language, not much angst, some fluff.

Part Seven: Regrets

Hinata stared at his phone questioning whether he should message you again. It had been four days since you ran out of his apartment. You had yet to respond to any of his texts. As concerned as he is he knows no good will come from spamming you. Although he wants nothing more than for you too talk to him. He was so confused where you both stood. But he was sure of one thing, and that was that things couldn’t go back to the way they were before. He can’t go back to pushing down his feelings and pretending he doesn’t want to be more. That he didn’t want to call you his and show you off to the world. To take you out on dates try new experiences and make memories with you. He can’t keep acting like he doesn’t dream of waking up to you in his arms every morning. He wants to be there with you every step in life and support you no matter what. He wants to show you that you are the most amazing woman he’s ever known. As much as the sex is amazing it’s not worth holding back anymore. He knows you may still not be ready for a relationship and he wouldn’t think about pressuring you into one after how horribly your last ended, he’d gladly wait for you to be ready but he has to be honest with his feelings instead of torturing himself.

The sound of his alarm snapped him out of his daze. Time to get ready for practice, he groaned pulling himself from the comfort of his bed before heading to the shower to start his day. He shuffled in the bathroom hooking up his phone to his Bluetooth speaker starting up with morning playlist beginning his morning routine. He loved jamming in the shower. He turned the water on letting the heat build as he brushed his teeth before climbing into the steaming shower bopping his head to the beat of silhouette by Kana-boon having to refrain himself from attempting to naruto running in the slippery bath. He stood there for a moment enjoying the heat hitting his back and loosening his muscles. Losing himself in the music as he grabbed his three in one, body wash, shampoo and conditioner. He scrubbed his hair and body screaming the lyrics to the next song. “Sawaras nai kimi wa shojo wa na no Boku wa yarichinbitchi no osu da yo !!,” he was jamming out when the song was interrupted by the sound of a notification. He thought nothing of it figuring it was just Bokuto-San. When the chimes continue his curiosity won out as he peeked out passed the curtain still covered in bubbles to see who was spamming his phone. His eyes grew wide as he saw your name lighting up his notifications. He rushed for his phone loosing his balance and slamming the shower wall to keep himself from falling on his ass as he scrambled out still dripping and soapy as he stood in bathroom unlocking his phone.

YN-Chan 🧡: Hey Shoyo

YN-Chan🧡: you’re usually up by now so I thought I’d message you to say I’m soo soo sorry for how I ran out the other day.

YN-Chan🧡: honestly I should have messaged you days ago but I’ve just been dealing with a lot . It’s no excuse but still I’m sorry.

YN-Chan 🧡: look I totally understand if you don’t want talk to me after how I acted but if you do I was hoping we could get together and talk?

Hinata could see the text bubble at the bottom showing she was typing but he wasted no time pulling up the call button needing to here your voice. It rang two times before connecting. His heart clinched hearing your soft hello.

“Hey Sho,” you answered.

“Hey there YN-Chan,” he greeted back.

He could here a sense of nervousness in your tone. “Hey sorry if interrupted anything.” He realized how hard he was breathing from excitement and from nearly dying trying to escape his shower.

“Oh no no, its fine I wasn’t busy,” he feigned nonchalance. There was a beat of silence as you both searched for words.

“Umm you had said you wanted to talk?” He questioned. He was really concerned for why you ran off that day.

“Oh yeah but I’d much rather talk in person, is there anyway we could get together soon I understand if you’re busy,”

“I’m free tonight,” he cursed himself for how desperate he sounded, “uhh do you want to come over tonight?”

You chuckled at his eagerness. “If it’s okay with you maybe we could go out... to like dinner maybe,” his heart froze his mind reeling with excitement you had never gone out before. Always just opting to have food delivered and eating in. He couldn’t help but let his hopes rise.

“I know it’s not what we usually do so I get if you’re uncomfor-”

“I’d love to!” He cuts you off. Not wanting to miss this chance.

“A-awesome um is 7:30 good for you?” You questioned.

“Yep!” He could feeling his heart soaring as the plans started to solidify.

“Great well I’ll message you all of the details later, bye Sho umm I’ll see you tonight.”

“Goodbye YN-Chan, can’t wait!” He heard a small laugh leave your lips before the line disconnected. There is a wide smile spread across his face as leaning against the wall next to him not even upset that his shower water was now starting to run cold.

Hinata’s day was instantly better with thought of seeing you tonight the Idea of having a date with you filled him with joy. Everyone could see the difference in the outside hitter today compared to the last few practices. It’s was like he was in the zone. He was all over the court making the cleanest receives and his spikes were just so on point. It was time for there first water break and stretch. He sat on the bench taking a gulp of water a big smile present on his face when he checks his phone to see a message with a restaurant address. His teammates shared a look at the way the ginger stared at his phone.

“What’s got you so happy Hinata?” Sakusa questioned.

“Yeah Sho you’ve been on fire today plus you won’t stop smiling at your phone!” Bokuto boasted wrapping an arm around his newest teammate.

“That obvious huh?” Hinata grinned. “Well uhh the girl I’ve been talking to wants to go on a date tonight!”

“Oh yeah?” Atsumu smirked “the same girl that’s been marking up yer back recently?” Bokuto and the Setter busted into laughter when Hinata’s faced turned red. Sakusa rolled his eye at the childish behavior.

“Uh haha yeah that’s the one,” he chuckled rubbing the back of his head.

“Well if you’re already fuckin her why are you getting all giddy over a date?” The setter asked

“We’ve actually never been on date before,” Hinata admitted.

“Damn Sho, first date! Why’d you wait so long dude?” Bo wondered.

“Really Hinata-Kun I didn’t take you for the casual sex type,” Sakusa stated

“She’s a friend but I’ve like her pretty much since we met but she’s just not ready for a relationship,” he explains “ she has some bad history but we kept fooling around as friends. I’m so excited cause she asked if I wanted to get dinner so I’m hoping maybe she’s starting to open up to the idea.”

“Ha well good luck then bro,” Bokuto smacked him on the back laughing. The rest of them agreed in the well wishes before the whistle blew signaling the end of their break.

They resumed their intense training. Right now focusing on their serves and some indurance training. The coaches were wearing them out today going over and over drills. Soon enough they were in the locker room showering up a bit and changing as they got ready for their lunch break before they’d have to return to practice. The locker room filled with chatter as they discussed different plays they wanted to work on or where they wanted to grab lunch. There conversation was interrupted when one of the coaching assistants poked their head in.

“Miya-San your fiancé is here to see you, she waiting by the gym entrance.” He stated before turning to leave. All eyes were on the setter when he dropped his phone a look of shock present on his face. His mind was going a mile a minute he was so sure he miss heard the man . There was no way you were here. He stood up rushing to finish getting dressed. There was a pressure in the room he was ignoring some of his teammates sharing a confused look.

“I didn’t know you had a Fiancé Tsumu?” Hinata asked excitedly as the team started following behind the setter.

“That’s because he doesn’t,” Sakusa stated bitterly. Atsumu shot a dirty look back at the wing spiker.

“She left him months ago before you joined the team Shoyo-Kun, she’s are really nice girl though always brought us the best snacks when she’d visit,” Bokuto explained his hungry mind straying as he thought back to her delicious cooking.

“Oh I’m sorry Atsumu,” Hinata apologized.

“Don’t he deserved it,” Sakusa scoffed.

The setter paid no mind to comment there was no point in getting angry with the neat freak he was completely right. It didn’t matter at the moment what mattered was seeing you. He stopped in his tracks when he saw you standing there. You were even more beautiful than he remembered. You were looking at your hands picking at your nails. He could see you were nervous. So was he. What was he supposed to say he knew he owed you an apology and much more but it felt like he couldn’t breath looking at you. You looked up at him your eyes locking. There was a look he couldn’t quite pin point. It wasn’t exactly a look of hated which it was what he expected but it also nothing like the looks of love he used to receive. He didn’t even realize the boys had stopped behind him watching the scene. His eyes only focused on you and nothing else.

That is until he hears a sharp breath from behind him as Hinata called out your name. Bokuto and Sakusa’s eyes snapped to the ginger some confusion present. Atsumu however didn’t look away from you not even when you gaze shifted from the setter to his teammate. This look in your eyes he could distinguish. It was one you used to look at him with. It shattered Atsumu as he realized right then you were the woman Hinata had been talking about. It obvious when he saw a similar look of happiness on Shoyo’s face. It felt like a kick to the gut. An array of emotions swirling through his mind. He was hurt to think you moved on. Disgusted as he thought back to his earlier convo with the man and how they had discussed the scratches on his friends back and now realizing how they were from you. He felt like he was going to puke thinking of his teammate with you in that intimate way. But he knew he had no right to feel this way not after all he put you through so he pushed those emotions deep inside. Returning to the moment.

“Hi Sho,” you gave a small smile as you shuffled nervously in your spot.

“I thought we were getting dinner? We can switched to lunch if you need to tho.” He stated.

Sakusa and Bokutos eyes grew wide finally coming to the same conclusion the setter previously had. Sakusa had to stifle a laugh as Bo muttered “oh shit” under his breath at the awkward situation.

“Um actually Shoyo, I’d still like to get dinner with you. I know this must seem really confusing, and I promise to explain everything tonight, but uhh.. I actually here to see Miya-San.” You explain sheepishly.

Atsumu tried not to flinch at the use of his last name.

You turned to the blonde with a stoic face. “Can we get lunch, we really need to talk.” He nodded not knowing how to use his voice.

You turned back to Hinata with a pleasing look. “I’ll call you later before our date, Sho.” Before turning to leave with Tsumu.

Hinata may be beyond confused right now not yet connecting the dots. But that didn’t matter he couldn’t stop his heart from skipping. Date. It’s a date. He wasn’t overthinking or wishing hopefully. It was an actual date with you! The woman he can’t get out of his mind. And that one little comfort was enough for him to trust the situation as he watched you walk away.

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[c-e-d-dreamer]

For AU Day for @nessianweek I thought I’d test out this College AU that’s been bouncing around my brain because I’m College AU trash that I’m considering writing a proper/chaptered fic for. Hope you enjoy! :) 

Most days, University of Prythian feels like every other public college. All brooding brick buildings and precisely placed green spaces and students loudly milling about in droves. A group of frat boys throwing around a frisbee on the common. A group of girls in bikinis tops taking advantage of the late August sun. Shouts of “oh my god, hey” and “how was your summer” just barely drowning out crying parents dropping their kids off. It’s migraine inducing. 

Nesta throws the car into park, the old Chevy only groaning slightly as it settles after the trek up to campus. She hears the doors open and close, but she just grips the wheel and closes her eyes, taking in three steadying breaths and hoping the oxygen can find a way to calm her spiking blood. In through the nose, out through the mouth. It’s a new year. After everything that happened last year, technically up should be the only direction. She hopes. Once Nesta feels like she has a hold of her frayed nerves, she slides out of the driver’s seat to find Feyre already excitedly pulling her bags from the trunk, settling them on the pavement next to the car. Elain comes up beside their youngest sister, pulling her own suitcases out. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you off closer to your dorm, Elain?” 

“I’m in Oakwood this year. It’s not that far a walk.” 

Nesta nods, grabbing the last of Feyre’s bags and closing the trunk. Before Elain can wheel off with her bags, Feyre’s wrapping an arm around each of her sisters’ shoulders, a wide smile plastered across her face under her U of P baseball cap. 

“The Archeron sisters are back together again!” 

“Well, until Nesta graduates,” Elain reminds Feyre. 

“Maybe she’ll do a fifth year, just for us.” 

Nesta just raises an eyebrow at her sisters’ antics. A fifth year? Impossible. Not only because she takes her studies very seriously, keeping her GPA well above the average, but because the idea of spending an extra, unnecessary year in this place sounds like her own personal circle of hell. The sooner she can finish her degree and get on with the rest of her life, the better. 

“Alright,” Feyre concedes. “Bad suggestion.” 

With a wave and a promise to meet up for dinner later, Elain is off towards Oakwood Hall. Nesta hoists one of Feyre’s duffle bags onto her shoulder, following her youngest sister toward her own dorm hall. As she steps up onto the sidewalk, though, her shoulder collides with a firm body, Feyre’s bag almost falling out of her grip. 

“Hey! Watch where you’re going,” Nesta seethes. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” a voice calls in return, already swallowed up by the groups of students moving in and out of the dorm hall. 

Nesta rolls her eyes at the saccharine nickname, resettling the duffle on her shoulder and catching up to Feyre. Her sister’s dorm reminds Nesta of her own freshmen dorm from back in the day, simple and small, all white walls and plain wood furniture. Despite the things already in the room, Feyre’s roommate is nowhere to be seen. 

“Do you need help with anything else?” Nesta asks, dropping the bag she had been holding onto Feyre’s bed. 

“I should be good. Orientation starts in a few hours.” 

A moment passes as the two sisters stare at one another. They aren’t exactly the most affectionate of families, hugging and that sort of thing. So with a small nod and smile, Nesta is on her way, back out of the dorm hall and to her car. 

Luckily, the off campus apartment she’s staying in this year isn’t that long a drive, and when she walks through the door, Emerie is already inside, leaning against their kitchen counter, a fork poised between her fingers and what looks like a slice of chocolate cake perched on a plate. 

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Emerie drawls, but the smile tugging at the corner of her lips gives away the teasing nature. 

“Hope you brought enough to share,” Nesta replies, eying up Emerie’s plate. 

“Do I look like I’m made of money? Go to the dining hall and get your own.” 

“When’s Gwyn meant to get in?” 

“Not until later this week. I’m surprised you’re on campus this early.” 

“Feyre has orientation this week. Plus I need to hit up the bookstore. I have Williams this semester.” 

“That man seriously needs to get that stick out of his ass when it comes to having the “right edition” for his class.” 

“Tell me about it,” Nesta sighs, sneaking her hand into the utensils drawer and then snagging a bite of Emerie’s cake before the female has a chance to react. 

“Hey!” Emerie calls after Nesta as she retreats to her room. “You’re lucky I like you, Nesta Archeron!” 

~ * * * ~

The campus bookstore is mostly filled with parents and baby-faced freshmen trying to decide which University of Prythian gear to spend all their money on, but once Nesta pushes back to where the shelves of textbooks live, the throngs of bodies thin out. She can’t help but run her finger along the spines of the books, all lined perfectly along the shelves. Each spine is a different color, a different texture, bold or curvy font declaring its title to the world, and while many are textbooks, that feel under her fingers is still a comfort. Like a heartbeat lives between the soft linen pages and beats in time with her own. 

A turn around the corner and Nesta finds the section of books she needs. She scans the different titles, and when her eyes finally land on the one she needs, she can’t help the long sigh that looses from her lungs. Of course, it’s on the very top shelf. Nesta reaches her arm up, stretching up onto her tip-toes until the pads of her fingers just brush the spine of the book, trying to inch the book closer to the edge where she could get it down. 

“Need some help, sweetheart?”

Nesta falls back on her heels in surprise, the voice and nickname snagging on her memory. She whips her head around to find a guy leaning against the shelf, arms crossed casually across his chest and a smug smile plastered across his face. He’s tall with broad shoulders, dark curls pulled into a bun at the back of his head. Nesta’s eyes can’t help but snag on the lines of ink dancing across the skin of his arms and peeking out of the open cuts of his bro-tank. When her eyes dance back to his face, his hazel eyes are alight like he had clocked and was delighted in what she had been doing. It makes her brain crash back into action, a scowl settling easily across her features. 

“You were the one who bumped into me earlier. Outside of Somerset Hall.” 

“That was you?” the guy asks, not even being subtle as he checks Nesta out. “My apologies. Let me make it up to you by taking you out to dinner.” 

Nesta doesn’t even deen that with a response. With a scoff, she turns back toward the front of the bookstore. She can come back later for the book she needs, ideally when this insufferable man with his cocky grins and overconfidence is nowhere to be seen. As she weaves her way through the shelves and toward the exit, she pointedly ignores the heavy set of footsteps she can hear trailing behind her. 

“At least tell me your name.” 

“No.” 

“No? Well that’s definitely an interesting name. My name’s Cassian by the way.” 

“I don’t recall asking.” 

“You didn’t have to. Your eyes were asking for you.” 

That has Nesta halting in her steps. She whirls around and clearly her sudden stop has this Cassian thrown off, his own steps stumbling. Good. She likes having the upperhand. 

“Does that line actually work for you?” 

“Actually, I usually have to use less words. My ruggedly handsome looks do all the talking.” 

“Rugged? Sure. But handsome?” Nesta pointedly rakes her eyes down his figure, and when they meet back with hazel, Cassian’s cock-sure grin slips the barest hint at the corner. “I don’t think so. You looked like you crawled out of a dumpster.” 

Nesta expects his smile to fall fully at the jab, and she hopes it’s enough for him to leave her alone, but instead that smile is still stubbornly there. Even worse, it twists and shifts into a smirk, like this is all some kind of fun game. It makes Nesta’s heart give an extra kick in her chest, and before she can even think about dwelling on what that means, she turns on her heel. 

“Goodbye, Cassian.” 

“Goodbye, sweetheart.” 

~ * * * ~

On Thursday, Nesta finds herself at the dining hall. It’s a little late for breakfast and too early for lunch, so luckily the place is blessedly not too crowded, just a few pockets of students talking and laughing at various tables. She’s standing in front of the pastry display when her phone starts buzzing incessantly, and she slides it out of her pocket to find Feyre going off in their sister group chat. 

I just met the most attractive man I have ever seen

I’m not fucking around. HIS FACE 

And he called me darling

He asked me to drinks tomorrow night!

“I personally prefer the blueberry muffins.” 

Nesta snaps her attention to her left to find Cassian standing there, that same wide and cocky grin from the bookstore settled across his face. His hair is down today, soft curls framing his face and brushing against his cotton tee covered shoulders. 

“You again,” Nesta sighs. 

“Isn’t it funny how we keep meeting?” 

“Funny isn’t the word I would use.”

“It’s almost like the Universe keeps pushing us together.”

“Or you’re stalking me.” 

“Maybe you’re stalking me,” Cassian says, tossing a wink Nesta’s way. 

“And why would I do that?” 

“I thought we already established the fact I’m ruggedly handsome?” 

“Pretty sure the only thing we’ve established is that you’re full of yourself.” 

Nesta turns and snags one of the wrapped chocolate chip muffins out of the display case, fully prepared to end this conversation and enjoy her snack in peace. 

“You forgot something the other day, you know.” 

Nesta looks back toward Cassian where he has an outstretched hand between them. There, clutched between his fingers, is the book she went to the campus bookstore to pick up. She blinks a few times at the wide script proclaiming Art Through the Ages, the cogs in her brain tripping over one another and trying to comprehend the sight before her. Her hand begins to reach out to take the book before she snaps it back to her side, her eyes locking back on Cassian’s face. 

“You got the book I needed?” 

“The perfect excuse to find and talk to you again.” 

“Well, I can’t accept it.” 

“Then you can Venmo me,” Cassian says, leaning into Nesta’s space and pressing the book into her hands. “And your Venmo will have your name, won’t it? So it’s a win-win.” 

This close up, Nesta can see all the green vines and gold flecks that make up his hazel eyes. The way his nose sits just off kilter like it’s been broken and set not quite right and the stubble pushing through along his jawline. She can feel the warmth that seems to radiate off his person in rolling waves. It’s a bit overwhelming. 

“It’s Nesta,” she offers, taking a step back. 

“Nesta,” Cassian says, like he’s testing the weight of her name on his tongue. “Well, Nesta, how about that dinner? The offer still stands. Or we could skip straight to dessert.” 

Nesta lets out a snort at the comment. She’s sure the sound isn’t particularly attractive, but she can’t help it. The audacity of this man. 

“Only in your dreams,” Nesta quips, turning on her heel and heading toward the register to pay for her muffin. 

“Is that a promise?”

She pretends she doesn’t hear him as she swipes her meal card and makes for the dining hall exit. She can feel Cassian’s eyes tracking her the whole way. 

Later, when Nesta gets back to her room and is thumbing through Art Through the Ages, she finds a note folded up between the pages. She opens up the paper to find an unfamiliar scrawl, simple black lines spelling out ‘Cassian’ and ten digits. She hesitates for only a moment before crumbling it up and tossing it in the trash. 

~ * * * ~

Classes start up on Monday, and Nesta is ready to throw herself back into her books, notes, and work. She has a jammed packed schedule this semester, knocking out the rest of her general education credit requirements needed to graduate on time. The perfect distraction to keep her mind busy. At least, she was able to squeeze in enough classes that actually interest her, including a course on Early Women Writers. 

On Tuesday, she walks into the science building and her chemistry class. She finds a lab table a few spots back from the front, settling onto one of the stools. She pulls her textbook and laptop from her bag and is just typing in her laptop password when she feels a presence behind her. 

“I guess I should thank you for coming through on your promise. The best dreams I’ve ever had.” 

Nesta can’t stop the pained sigh that pulls its way out her lungs. She rubs a hand down her face before turning to the right, just in time to find Cassian sliding into the stool beside her. He has another cotton tee on, his hair once again pulled up into a bun style. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re taking this class.” 

Cassian reaches into his backpack and pulls out his own chemistry textbook, holding it up as some sort of proof. 

“The Universe strikes again.” 

“So you keep saying, but clearly the Universe has bad taste.” 

Cassian throws his head back and laughs at the comment, surprising Nesta with his reaction and earning them a few curious looks from the rest of the class. The sound is deep and warm, seeming to radiate from deep within his chest. His shoulders shake like his large frame isn’t enough to contain the sound, and Nesta finds herself staring at the crinkles that appear beside his eyes. 

“Alright, class. Welcome to chemistry.” 

A hush falls over the whole room as the professor strides in the door and to the front of the room. She hands a small stack of syllabus sheets to each person sitting at the front to be passed back and a blank seating chart to fill in is passed between the tables. The professor goes through the syllabus for much of the allotted class time, and Nesta makes notes in the margins of hers about the grading system and circles the important deadlines she’ll need to remember. 

“I hope you’re comfortable with where you’re sitting and who you’re sitting with,” the professor addresses the class an hour later. “They’ll be your lab partner for the rest of the semester.” 

Nesta wants to groan as she buries her face in her hands. How did this become her life? As if simply seeing Cassian’s insufferable face three times a week for this class isn’t enough, now they actually have to interact and work with one another. If Cassian’s theory about this being the Universe's doing is correct, Nesta is pretty sure the Universe is just laughing in her face now. 

“Well, would you look at that, Nes,” Cassian drawls from beside her. “Another point for the Universe.” 

“I’m going to murder you in your sleep,” Nesta mutters from between her fingers. 

“As long as we get to cuddle a little beforehand.” 

“Cute,” Nesta says, putting as much dry sarcasm as she can behind the single word. 

“You know, lab partner,” Cassian offers while he stands up and slings his backpack across his shoulders. “I think it’s going to be a great semester.”

#my fic #acotar #nessianweek2021 #nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian

[sariahsue]

Rivals Are Always One “Make Me” Away From Kissing

Tossing the controller onto the desk, Adrien reached for Marinette’s waist and slid her into his lap. She came willingly, looping her arms around his neck and weaving her fingers into his hair. (An Adrinette no powers video game AU - 10,000 words)

Adrien had to admit that he was a little bit of a nerd. Here he was, fifteen minutes early for school, in an outfit his personal assistant picked out for him, and looking over his homework alone in the hallway instead of talking with classmates or hanging out in the sunny courtyard like everyone else was doing.

A gust of cool air rushed in through an open doorway and ruffled his hair, making him sigh. It was no wonder he was still single.

The whisper of his name on the wind caught his attention.

"Nino?" Adrien called. The hallway was deserted, so he stuffed his homework into his backpack and stepped closer to the open doorway to investigate. The back of Nino's red cap came into view. He was sitting on the front steps, brushing shoulders with Alya.

"You have too much faith in my bro," Nino said.

Adrien stopped walking forward as his heart sank to the floor. Nino didn't believe in him about something?

"I'm giving Marinette one week, tops," Alya said.

"It's going to take him at least a month," Nino countered.

"You willing to bet on that?" she asked, standing.

"Yeah, I am."

Alya stuck out her hand, then pulled him up as they shook on it.

It was only when they started to turn to come into the building that Adrien realized he shouldn't have been eavesdropping while standing in the dead center of an empty hallway. There was nothing to hide him from the surprised eyes of his friends.

Alya was the first to recover, her expression quickly slipping to suspicion. "How much of that did you hear?" she asked, hands on her hips.

"Nothing!" he said, hands up. "I didn't-"

"Did you hear the news?" Nino cut in.

"N-no? What are you talking about?"

"The Olympic Committee voted."

"About?" Adrien asked. He tried to forget… whatever they'd been talking about.

"eGames are in for Paris 2024!"

"Seriously?" Adrien asked. "I thought they voted against that last month."

Nino ignored the comment and held out a hand for a high-five, but it was more like a middle five, limp and unenthusiastic. Nino glanced toward Alya, and they shared a smile.

"I bet I could get us tickets easy," Adrien said, pulling Nino's attention away from his girlfriend. "Want to come-"

Nino snapped back to attention, eyes gleaming. "You should sign up for the team."

"I should what?" Adrien asked, bewildered by his friend's sudden change in tone. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I'm not that good."

"No really, dude." Nino grabbed his arm. "I think you could do it." He threw an arm around Adrien's shoulder, turned him around and marched him deeper into the school.

"No thanks?" Adrien let himself be steered into a crowded hallway, Alya stalking behind them, her eyes burning into his back. "I'd need more practice than I have time for. Some of those gamers-"

"All you need-" Nino guided them around a group of upperclassmen. "-is a partner to practice with."

What was going on? Adrien knew he was kind of sheltered and maybe a little socially awkward, but he knew Nino well enough at this point that he could tell he was trying to set something up. "I get it. You want an excuse to play on my system every day. But you know my father-"

"Oh, no way, man. I'm not good enough." They stepped through a pair of double doors and out into the morning sunshine of the courtyard. Students laughed and yelled at each other. Others lounged on the stairs going up to the second floor. Nino's hand on his shoulder tightened and they stopped moving. "But maybe there's someone-"

"Yeah," Alya cut in. She shoved her way in between them and pointed to the middle of the courtyard, toward a tight cluster of students. "I bet Marinette would want to practice with you."

Adrien followed the line of Alya's finger. Marinette's dark hair and bright smile peeked out from the center of the group. As usual, she was surrounded by admirers, all of whom were laughing at something she had just said. His stomach clenched, though he wasn't sure why.

"You're kidding, right? She's one of the most popular girls in school."

"Did you miss the memo, sunshine?" Alya said. "You're pretty popular yourself."

"And the four of us hang out together all the time," Nino said. "I'm sure she would love to spend some time with just you."

"I don't even think I want to be in the Olympics," Adrien said, turning away from Marinette and glancing at his other friends. There was definitely something going on. Nino and Alya traded sideways glances and wiggling eyebrows, communicating something Adrien couldn't figure out.

"You really should ask Marinette to practice with you, dude," Nino said.

"No, I don't think-"

"Come on, Agreste." Alya stepped up into his space. Not that he could ever tell Nino this, but his girlfriend could be scary when she wanted to be. She was somehow towering over him, even though he could have sworn a few seconds ago that he was taller than she was. "You want a gold medal, don't you?"

"No?"

"Yes, you do. Now go ask Marinette."

"This isn't even about the Olympics, is it?"

Alya nudged him through the open door and into the light. Adrien blinked, disoriented by the sudden movement and the direction his morning had taken.

"Get moving," Alya insisted.

"Okay, okay! I'll ask her!" he said. His plan to skirt around Marinette's knot of students and escape to the other edge of the courtyard was shot down when his friends' footsteps crunched behind him. They weren't going to let him get away.

Feeling their eyes on him, Adrien weaved his way through the students that filled the yard, hoping the bell would ring and give him an excuse to abandon his quest. What was really happening here?

Guys and girls alike were leaning over Marinette's shoulder, and as he got closer he could tell the laughter was due to something on the sketch pad she was holding. Her smile and the light hitting her hair just right made her glow. Her eyes sparkled.

And Adrien stopped moving.

There was no way he could approach her with this many people around. What was he going to say, anyway? Hey, I think our friends are terrible and plotting something against me, and I'm going to regret asking later, but will you please play video games with me? It sounded stupid even in his head.

A single, sharp fingernail between his shoulder blades reminded him that he had no choice in the matter, so he stepped forward, excusing himself through the crowd of Marinette's admirers, until he was close enough to grab her elbow and borrow her attention.

"A-a-adrien?" she asked, stuttering when her bright eyes found his. "How you- uh, what?"

"Can we play video games later?" Ugh. This was even worse out loud than it had been in his head. "Um, the Olympics are coming up later. And we should practice." Yes, that was an eloquent explanation. Very smooth.

Marinette's eyes went wide in a doe-eyed stare, like she couldn't believe he'd ask her such a thing. "Oh." Her voice shook. "Th-tho nank you. No thank you! I don't-" She glanced behind him, over his shoulder. "I mean, yes! I would love to!" She stared at his feet and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear nervously.

Adrien glanced quickly behind him. Nino and Alya were standing a little way away, looking far too innocent. Alya examined her fingernails. Nino was gazing all around the courtyard, not fixing on any one point, his face blank. So they were bullying Marinette into it, too? Whatever they were planning, he wasn't going to let them make her uncomfortable.

"You don't have to," he told her quickly, and her head snapped back up to his. "I mean, it's probably a stupid idea. If you don't want to, I understand. It's kind of a weird idea. And I think the Olympics are dumb and, I mean, you probably like them, so-"

"No," she said quickly, mercifully cutting him off. She reached out to grab his arm, but pulled back just before her fingers brushed his skin. It was close enough to raise goosebumps.

"I do want to practice with you," Marinette said.

He raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

"Really," she said, putting enough force into it that she sounded almost convincing.

"Okay," he said, skeptical. She must have so many friends and demands on her attention. She was really going to make time for one-on-one time for him? "I have a free two hours before my piano lessons tomorrow. I'll ask if you can come over."

"I'm free then!"

After her initial hesitation, he was surprised to hear her so excited. What was really going on? "Then, that's good, I guess. Sounds... good. Great."

"Great," she echoed.

The bell rang. Relieved, Adrien walked off through the shuffling crowd, pushing through sharp elbows and heavy backpacks and toward Nino and Alya, who were muttering to each other, their heads close together, and not paying him any attention.

Alya was whispering as he approached. He only caught a soft, "They're going to be-" before she noticed him and walked off.

"Bro, please make me lose." Nino adjusted the headphones around his neck.

"You want to lose? What, a bet?"

"Can't say," Nino said. "It's important, though. You've got a month."

If Adrien was confused before, he was stumped now. The only thing he was sure of was that this had nothing to do with the Committee vote or video games. Was Marinette in on it or was she his fellow victim?

Now that he didn't need the bell to save him from anything, it happily rang the beginning of class. Dozens of shoes shuffled down the hallways. Friends called out to each other. Adrien trailed far behind Marinette on his way to their class. Her pigtails bounced to her enthusiastic step.

What was really happening?

***

A week later, Adrien didn't really care what the motivation behind the practice sessions had been. He was having too much fun. In a stunning display of paternal affection, Gabriel had allowed Adrien to set up regular video gaming sessions with Marinette. Or Nathalie had put it into his schedule and not mentioned it to his father. Probably the second one, though he liked to pretend.

Today, they were up in his room, being washed in the music of Mario Kart that they were playing on his gigantic television. Adrien sat up straight on the couch, toes digging into the plush carpet, and pouring his focus onto the screen, but Marinette was draped across the furniture, one foot dragging on the floor, the other accidentally poking his knee whenever one of them leaned into a turn.

In the past few days, a remarkable change had come over Marinette. Instead of being anxious and fidgety whenever they ran into each other at school, the hours of being together had forced her to grow relaxed around him. It was amazing to see the side of her that everyone else so admired shining out of her when she was with him, instead of it being trapped under her awkward stutter like it used to be. He loved this.

As he rounded the final turn, Marinette on his tail, he squeezed the controller even harder, though his character was already going at top speed. A squirt of black ink blocked out his half of the screen.

"No!" he yelled, trying to negotiate the curve while blind. "I forgot you had that one! I thought you were out!"

Marinette didn't leave her position on the couch until she'd crossed the finish line. When she did, she jumped up and crowed her victory. "I beat you again! Admit it! You're going to cry yourself to sleep tonight because I creamed you so bad!"

Adrien wiped away a fake tear with her controller and was rewarded with one of Marinette's soft giggles. The sound was infectious, and soon his laughter joined hers. This was the way a lot of their games ended. Win or lose, they were both happy, just because they enjoyed each other's company.

Adrien's suspicions had melted away over the past few days. Nino and Alya were dating, and they wanted their best friends to spend time together. That must have been it. He had to admit, he loved the idea.

And he loved that she was comfortable enough with him to be the person he saw her be with other people, bold and funny and expressive, somehow kind and fierce at the same time, ready to compliment him or trash talk him at a moment's notice. It kept him on his toes.

While the question of why it had taken her so long to warm up to him nagged at him, it wasn't enough to keep him from acknowledging that he was much happier when she was around.

"So what do you want to play next?" Marinette slid off the couch and pulled out his collection of games.

"Shovel of Hope," he said quickly.

"I usually pick that one," she said, turning to direct a questioning eyebrow his way.

"It is. And I want you to be happy, so we can play your favorites twice in a row."

A slack look of shock was replaced quickly by Marinette's shy smile, and Adrien's heart flipped.

He'd always known she had a nice smile. So why did it seem like a new revelation just now?

***

If Adrien's observation about their first week together was how much he liked Marinette, then observation about the second week was how much his game had improved.

Marinette's skill on most games was just a little higher than his own, so playing against her was always a challenge, and teaming up with her was always instructive. Of course, her teasing continually spurred him on.

Today they were in her room playing Zombie Fighter 2, which he'd never even heard of before. And it showed. After seven rounds, he had failed to land a single hit on Marinette's character. He went down in a shower of sparks.

"KO'd again! I can't believe it!" Adrien tossed his controller into his lap. He noticed every time his left knee brushed her right as they sat cross-legged on her chaise.

"Your skills are improving, young grasshopper," Marinette said.

"How is losing improving?"

"You lasted a whole ten seconds longer than last time. You're learning how to run away."

Adrien socked her in the face with a pink pillow. He'd been in her room a handful of times now and he still couldn't get over how pink everything was. Walls, curtains, blankets, even furniture. It suited her, though.

Marinette stood up and stretched. A small strip of skin peeked out where her shirt rode up. "We should head downstairs. Your driver will be here soon."

"No." Adrien averted his gaze quickly. "Let's play one more!" The warmth of Marinette's room wasn't something he looked forward to leaving, not when his own sterile, empty room was the only thing waiting to welcome him home.

"I was hoping you'd say that," she said. "Can't get enough of me, or can't get enough of being pounded into the ground, I wonder?"

"Jury's out."

"Ouch! Why do I keep you around, again?" she asked.

"Must be because I'm so cute." Adrien selected his character, and the screen lit up with another round.

"Must be." Marinette ruffled his hair.

Adrien sat up a little straighter. Was it the praise? Or was it her touch? When she took her hand away, it was to fix his grip on the controller.

"You're never going to win like that. Your fingers aren't spread out enough. Like this." She adjusted each finger individually, pushing and poking and smoothing each one into place until they curved just so.

Her hands radiated warmth. But not just that. It felt like... kindness? Caring? How was he getting that from just the feel of her fingertips against his wrists, directing him to relax the sudden tension in his arms?

By the time she pulled away and they started playing, Adrien's hands were shaking. He pulled them deeper into his lap, so she wouldn't see the tremors.

What was happening? And why did he feel like Marinette touching him again was going to make him feel better? Whatever it was, it wasn't helping him win.

"That'll teach me to compliment you," Marinette said after cutting down his avatar with ease. "That was awful. What happened?"

"Just tired, I guess," Adrien said, putting his controller between them and flapping his hands, like they were sweaty or cramping or something else normal.

"Tired, huh? I can play better than that in my sleep! So what's the real reason?"

"Tired. That's really the reason."

"Tired of getting beat, maybe."

"Oh, lay off."

"Make me."

He needed something to do with the nervous energy in his hands, and Marinette was asking for it. When he poked her side, she made the most adorable squeal he'd ever heard, and he had to do it again. The tickle fight that ensued was nothing short of inevitable. She tried to reach for the pillow on the floor to defend herself with, but he took the opportunity to poke her side and she tumbled off the chaise and pulled him with her. It wasn't enough to stop him.

"I surrender!" Marinette gasped after only a few seconds. "You win!"

"You admit I'm better at something than you?"

"No, your arms are just longer, like a monkey's." She laughed even before she felt his retaliation tickle for the jibe.

As their laughter subsided, Adrien felt lighter. He hadn't had fun with a friend like this in he couldn't remember how long. His father always made him feel foolish for finding something mildly amusing. Somehow, Marinette made falling off his seat liberating instead of embarrassing. He loved that about her.

Sprawled out as they were, it took Adrien a few seconds before he noticed where his hand was resting. Right on Marinette's soft stomach. She was smiling up the ceiling, not seeming to notice or care that he was touching her. It felt nice.

But it was probably weird. He was being weird.

So why was he not moving?

His hand moved up and down with her breathing, rhythmic and calming. Would she stop him if he slid his fingers along the fabric and felt the texture of her shirt?

He kept his hands still until she sighed deeply, and then he guiltily removed it.

***

It had been the best month of Adrien's life, and he owed it all to the girl who was walking toward him. The school courtyard was packed with students going home for the day. Backpacks hung off shoulders. People shouted to each other. Heads bobbed up and down as they tried to find their friends in the crowd.

Marinette's small build made it difficult for her to push her way through the crowd, but shoved backpacks and used her elbows and finally reached him. He was touched by the effort that she made to be near him.

"Nino and Alya coming?" he asked.

"Over there," she said, nodding toward the couple. "You ready to head out? My dad promised croissants for all of us today, and I'm very done with school right now."

It wasn't easy to pick out their friends in the mass of students, but he finally found them by the stairs, heads together like they were whispering despite the noise.

"What are they talking about?"

Marinette sighed. "The, uh, that bet." She looked sideways at him, like she was hoping he'd say something about it.

"Oh," Adrien said, racking his brain for scraps of memory. "Nino won, right? He said it was going to take over a month." For someone who won a bet, he didn't look very happy about it. The two looked over at him at the same time and frowned. Well, Nino frowned. Alya glowered.

"Technically, Alya's got until the end of the day but... yeah." Her voice became very quiet. Small and sad. "Nino's going to win."

"I never learned what that was about," he said, hoping she would provide an answer to the mystery.

Marinette just shook her head and started fidgeting with her purse strap to avoid looking at him. "L-let's wait for them," she stammered.

That wasn't a good sign. He didn't want to push her into her old habit of not being able to hold a conversation with him, so he didn't ask again. "Sure, we can wait," he said, taking a step to the side to give her some space. "It looks like they're on their way over already."

Nino and Alya approached with fake smiles plastered on their faces, like nothing had happened. Neither greeted Adrien or Marinette when they reached them, just kept walking toward the doors. The crowd thickened the closer to the door they got. Students pushed to get out of the building, and Adrien quickly lost sight of Nino and Alya somewhere ahead of him. He and Marinette squeezed through the doors and finally made it out onto the stairs.

"Oh no!" Marinette pulled at her hair as they started down the stairs.

"What?" Adrien asked, shuffling behind a red backpack that was going much slower than it needed to.

"Nothing, nothing. I just broke an elastic again." Keeping one fist in her hair to hold the pigtail in place, she fished in her purse for another one. Their pace became a crawl as she searched.

"Just wear it down," Adrien suggested.

"I'll look stupid," she said, giving up the search in favor of digging in her pockets.

"Come on, you'll look fine," he said, trying to convince her so they could catch back up to the others. He could see them waiting by the crosswalk, backs to them. "I've never seen your hair down before."

Marinette half turned to him, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. "All right," she finally said, letting it fall and taking out the other side to match. She brushed it out with her fingers as they finished walking down the stairs.

She looked nice like that. Really nice. A piece of him thought he should probably tell her that, so she wouldn't feel self-conscious. The rest of him was just glad Alya and Nino weren't looking at them, so they couldn't see him gaping at Marinette like a vulture.

That was when his hands started trembling. The nervous energy was back, urging him to reach out and touch her. Maybe tuck that stray strand of hair behind her ear and let his fingers linger by her cheek, his fingertips graze her jaw. But he didn't want her to pull away again, so he clenched his fists and tried to remind himself that there was no reason for him to be acting this weird around her.

"I feel like everyone is staring at me," she said after only a few seconds.

Well, I don't know about everyone. At least one person is. He cleared his throat and forced himself to look away. Students started breaking away from the main group, escaping down the sidewalk toward their homes. Nino and Alya had finally noticed their approach.

"My hair must look stupid. I knew it!" She threw her hands on top of her head, a combination of covering herself and patting it down to lie smooth.

"They're only staring because you're so beautiful."

Adrien and Marinette stopped and stared at each other. Alya and Nino stared at the pair of them. A light turned green and cars streamed past, the wind they created making Marinette's hair dance.

Marinette looked as surprised at his words as he felt. But it was true. He'd never thought about it before, but she was probably the prettiest person he'd ever met. Inside and out.

When the initial shock wore off after three seconds, Marinette hunched her shoulders. "Oh, w-w-well, y-you th-thank."

Panic settled over him as she stuttered. He'd messed up somehow. She was nervous. He'd made her uncomfortable. He was weird and made her feel weird, and he'd messed everything up. She was upset.

He opened his mouth to apologize – he had no idea how to apologize for giving an honest compliment but he knew he had to try – but the look on her face froze his tongue to the roof of his mouth. Shock and disbelief, warring with curiosity. But they were all replaced with the familiar crinkle in her eyes that meant a challenge was sure to follow.

"So your true feelings come out at last," she said in delight. "Sorry, but I can't get involved with my sparring partner, so don't ask."

"What-"

"No, no. Your begging won't work on me!" She pushed him away with one hand flat against his chest.

Could she feel his heart beating through his shirt? She must have been able to. The whirlwind shift in her attitude was making him nervous.

He looked at Nino and Alya for help at this sudden change. They were both open-mouthed.

That was when it clicked. She was just teasing him again. Or more likely daring him. He knew her well enough to know that tone when he heard it, the same when she offered a bonus challenge round. That compliment had been sincere, but he knew how to play along.

"Oh please, Marinette," he said, falling to his knees. "Your grace and beauty surpass all." The words were so easy to say. Too easy. "Make me the happiest boy in school and go out with me?" He clasped his hands and unleashed the most pitiful expression he knew how to make, not sure if he was even acting.

Marinette flipped her loose hair over her shoulder. "I could never give my heart to my most bitter rival."

"Noooo!" He threw his arms around her waist, pressing his face into her stomach. He heard more than felt her laughter, but inside he ached. Ached as she ran her fingers through his hair and down the back of his neck and then because she pulled her hand away. Ached because it felt so good to be close to her and then because he was letting her go as he stood back up. It was all he could do not to let the ache show through his fake smile as he continued the "joke."

Nino had his face in hands. "I hate both of you," he mumbled through his fingers. "So, so much."

Alya had already given up on them. She was halfway to the bakery.

"That's unfair," Marinette said, shifting her backpack and not looking at Adrien like he wished she would. "This is completely Adrien's fault."

"Mine?" he said, trying to sound scandalized instead of bitterly disappointed. "You're the one who won't go out with me."

She opened her mouth to respond, only to pause when she saw his face. He tried to school his expression, hide the new emotions pulsing through his blood, replace it with a smirk and a wink.

It must have worked because Marinette tapped his nose and said, "Sorry, Adrien. You'll have to ask me again some other time. I'm too busy being single at the moment."

The words cut deeper than they had any right to.

Nino grumbled something and turned away. Across the street, Alya shouted, "Are you two done being stupid yet?"

It seemed like Marinette was the only one who was truly happy after the joke, though he thought he saw something else flash across her face as she looked away. He wanted to pretend that it was longing or maybe regret, but he knew that couldn't be true. Marinette considered him just a friend. They had only been joking.

No, she had been joking. Everything he'd said was real. Why hadn't he realized it sooner?

His compliments, all the praise, asking her out, every single word of it had been real.

The ache settled deep into his heart.

***

The next morning, Adrien arrived at school a few minutes earlier than he normally would have, heart pounding and exhausted as he walked through the front doors. The exhaustion was caused by barely sleeping at all last night, instead being consumed with thoughts of Marinette, her confidence, her hair, her laughter, her quiet beauty, her kindness, and how much he wanted to touch her and spend time with her.

It hadn't even been 24 hours since he'd realized he was in love with her, but it spread through him like an wildfire, burning him up from the inside out, reaching through every part of him and carving out new places for thoughts of Marinette to inhabit, driving him to do something, anything so he could be with her.

His pounding heart was caused by that last bit, the knowledge that he now needed to act. His plan was simple, but he ran through it again anyway as he waited by her locker. As casually as he could, he was going to ask her out. But not on a date. Not yet. If she didn't like him that way (the "if" killed him; he knew she didn't), he wasn't going to mess up his chance by playing his hand too soon. He repeated his line over and over again. "I was just wondering if you'd like to do something other than video games with me some time?"

It was simple. It was normal friend stuff. He leaned against her locker, the cool metal soothing the voice that said she was going to say no, that he was an idiot for even asking her. After joking around yesterday, it was clear that she only thought of him as her weird gaming nerd friend. Why would she want to do other things with him?

But he had to try anyway. If she said yes, it would be a step in the right direction. He would be able to spend more time with her.

Though he tried not to, Adrien watched every person who entered the hallway, waiting for her. His heart leaped to his throat every time he saw black hair, and it crashed back down to his feet every time it wasn't hers.

If she said no, well, he would accept his place as just her gaming buddy, even though it would break his heart. And he could always pretend that their practice sessions were dates, right? Besides, he'd known her for over a year and he'd been okay with being only friends that entire time. It would probably be simple to find his way back to that easy, uncomplicated friendship.

He slipped a little farther down the cold locker door. His argument was very unconvincing, and he swallowed back the tightness in his throat at the idea.

Black hair bobbed into view, and this time it was Marinette's face underneath it. Blue eyes flashing. Smiling broadly at someone who wasn't him.

Excitement and terror washed through him. Her laughter echoed down the hall ahead of her, and he basked in the sound and sight of her. Would he even be able to speak by the time she finally saw him?

Marinette hadn't noticed him yet. She was talking with someone else, and Adrien's eyes flicked to her companion.

Nathaniel was laughing too, then laughing harder at something else Marinette said. Without hesitation, he put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a side hug. Marinette looked content as they walked ever closer to her locker, and that's when Adrien finally accepted the truth.

She was going to say no.

And he couldn't accept just being friends.

With only seconds to make up his mind before she saw him, Adrien did the only thing he could think of.

He ran away.

***

Today's practice was taking place cross-legged on his floor, staring up at his giant television. Marinette sat with him, a six-inch gap separating them, but she looked over at him from time to time, concerned at his silence.

Over the past week, Adrien hadn't given up hope completely, though he knew he should have. Marinette didn't like him that way and was way out of his league. The knowledge didn't stop him from agonizing over the perfect thing to say that would get her to change her mind, or at least give him a chance.

In the end, he had waited too long.

Though he was trying to act like everything was fine, the jealousy ripping through him was affecting his mood, his game, even his face, and had been chewing him up all afternoon. For the millionth time, he tried smoothing out his scowl. He'd already given up trying to shake life back into his numb hands.

B, up, duck, A. Button smashing when he knew he wasn't fast enough. Finally watching as his avatar felt defeated to the mat. Again. He took a shaky breath.

"Okay, what is going on?" Marinette asked, placing her controller carefully down in front of her, lining it up perfectly parallel to her knees. "You're making a lot of rookie mistakes. It isn't like you."

"Oh, just tired," Adrien said, making a show of stretching and lolling back.

"You told me this morning you'd slept really well last night," she said flatly.

"Oh." Right. He'd said that. Shoot. "Tired... from school."

"Okay... What was so-"

Adrien started a new round, forcing Marinette to scramble for her controller and cut off her interrogation.

It was only going to buy him time. If Marinette thought someone was upset, he knew she wasn't going to let it rest until she'd helped them feel better. It was one of many, many things that he loved about her. But he also knew he'd be better off bringing it up before she did, so he could steer the conversation.

They played for a few minutes in silence while Adrien's character was annihilated and he organized his thoughts. "So..." he finally asked, and he was pleased to hear his voice sounding almost normal, not tense like he felt. "What did Nathaniel want to talk to you privately about earlier?"

Adrien knew. She probably knew that he knew.

Nathaniel had asked her out. Adrien had been too slow, and now she was someone else's girlfriend. Could she read the agony on his face underneath the mask of disinterest?

"Oh, Nathaniel asked me for a date." How could she be so calm about the thing that was causing him to die inside? Sensing his distress, his avatar also keeled over and died. Round sixteen ended in defeat.

"Oh? That's..." He gulped. What question would just a friend ask? "When's the big-" He forced the word out. "-date?" That had sounded awful. The words and his delivery.

"I turned him down," she said casually, and just as casually she slaughtered his character again.

The next round began as Adrien blurted out a thrilled, "Really?!"

Marinette's character killed itself by jumping off the edge as she dropped her controller and turned to stare at him.

Adrien cleared his throat. "Really? Too bad for him, I guess." I'm cool about this, Marinette. Not interested in you or your love life at all. His unasked question hung over them: Why did she turn Nathaniel down? He couldn't bring himself to ask.

She continued to stare, considering him, then turned away with a smile she couldn't quite hold in. "I've wiped the floor with you for the past eighteen levels. You want to go again, or are you ready to admit your defeat?”

"And let you rub it in for the rest of our lives? I don't think so."

"I promise not to if you agree to do my homework for the rest of the year."

"I would absolutely love to never do that ever. Bring on level nineteen."

"Oh, that's what I was hoping you would say." Her glance was sly, and Adrien felt a challenge coming on.

Their characters were whirls of pixels, but this time he had no problem keeping up. She'd turned Nathaniel down! Adrien was back on form, matching Marinette stroke for stroke, about to pull out his first win since-

"I bet you were wondering why I said no." Marinette's avatar slipped a punch over his slack fists, knocking him down to half health with one blow. "It's because I already like someone else." With one more kick, she finished him off.

Adrien gripped his controller, not seeing the screen or even her as the next level started playing. Of course she already liked someone. Someone as loving as Marinette would have someone she loved. He'd never even had a chance, even before he'd wanted one. He was an idiot for not realizing.

"Complete devastation!" Marinette said. She meant his character, but she could have been talking about the boy sitting next to her. Both were crumbling to the ground.

The practice session ended early that day. Marinette sent him several questioning looks over the next hour that he stubbornly ignored, and he was glad she didn't push him. He wasn't sure he'd be able to stand her sympathy.

Like the gentleman he was, Adrien walked her to his bedroom door. Even with the awkward tension lingering in the air, he wanted her to stay a little longer. Maybe sensing that, or maybe just still hoping to cheer him up, Marinette hesitated in front of the closed doorway.

Adrien opened his mouth to speak, but when he realized he had no idea what it was he wanted to say, he shut it again slowly. Marinette waited patiently, playing with the hem of her shirt. What could he tell her? Nothing that would help his situation. Nothing that would change her mind about whatever wonderful guy she had her eye on. Nothing that would make her consider her dork of a gaming partner.

Marinette smiled up at him. After the miserable company he'd been all afternoon, she still felt like smiling at him? He almost blurted all his feelings out anyway.

"Well..." she said. "I should go."

Pushing herself up on her toes so she could reach and putting her hands on his shoulders for balance, Marinette placed an unexpected kiss on his cheek, just next to his mouth.

Adrien closed his eyes at the tender touch, heart melting.

I could turn my head, he thought as her lips lingered. I could wrap my arms around her and never let go. The scene was vivid in his mind, her hands slipping from his shoulders to his chest, fingertips tracing the stripes across his shirt. Whispers of how much she loved him. Him pulling Marinette close, her wanting him to.

But it wasn't real. She wouldn't like that, he reminded himself, so he kept still. His hands gripped his jeans to keep them from seeking her out.

When she pulled away a few seconds later, her look was intense. Despite her announced intention to leave, she hesitated. Waiting for something. For him to say something?

The words were right there on the tip of his tongue. Confess! He could do it!

He could, but he shouldn't. She'd just admitted to liking someone else. How disrespectful of her confession would telling her now be? Adrien didn't want to lose her.

"See you tomorrow?" he said, pulling the door open for her.

She frowned, not like she was angry. Like she'd been disappointed. Without another word, she slipped through the door and padded down the wide atrium stairs. He didn't take his eyes off her the whole time, but she didn't turn around to see it. From his spot so far away, he heard the front door click softly behind her.

He stayed put long after she'd gone, replaying the kiss in his mind, what her soft lips felt like, the tingle he'd felt as she'd rested her hands on his shoulders to steady herself, the heat of having her body so close to his.

Had it been all his imagination, telling him what he wanted, or had her kiss really been that close to his mouth? It had felt like she'd almost touched his lips she'd been so close.

The memory was still fresh on his skin, and he outlined the spot hesitantly, then with awe as his finger brushed the corner of his mouth. It wasn't his imagination. She really had.

Maybe... maybe he had misunderstood. Hope bubbled up inside him. She liked someone else, someone other than Nathaniel. He wasn't Nathaniel. What if she'd meant him?

What if he did have a chance after all?

***

Adrien wanted to be absolutely sure. Getting his hopes up again, or listening to Marinette's rejection, would be too painful. He was going to make sure he was the one, so he spent the next week looking for clues that he was the lucky boy she'd set her sights on.

And clues were everywhere.

They were mostly little things, like the way her face would light up when he came around a corner, or how she leaned into his touch when he dared to brush her bangs out of her eyes, or how she didn't scoot away if he sat down close to her.

Four days later, in the middle of a hard level, he experimentally touched his hand to her knee, keeping the pressure as light as he could, in case it wasn't wanted. She scooted closer, like she wanted to make it easier for him to do it again.

Marinette knew about his strict diet and would often bring him goodies, leftovers from the bakery. The following day, she'd brought him ones she'd made herself "with love." That's what she said. The big L word. A small part of him told him to calm down. She could have meant that she loved him as a friend. Most of him excitedly took it as an obvious hint.

Overall, his second favorite hint of her feelings was how she glowed under his compliments.

"These pastries are the best things I've ever tasted! Could you teach me to make them?" Marinette stumbled over her words for the next five minutes.

"Forget competing in the Olympics," he said two days later. "You could be the team coach. You're amazing!" She blushed for the rest of the day.

The best hint, the one that left him reeling, was becoming a common occurrence: she talked to him. Lately, their practice sessions would be filled with long stretches when they chatted about everything and nothing, controllers abandoned.

Today, she lounged on his couch, and he sat on the floor by her head. She'd asked him about his day, and he'd listened to hers, though she admitted herself that it was boring. She'd asked him about his day, then about his dreams for the future.

The honest curiosity she had for his answers, the fact that she even cared, left him leaning the couch for support. Marinette was on her back and smiled up at him as the movement brought him closer.

The conversation hit a lull when he ran out of things to say. Instead of feeling awkward, it was peaceful, and she closed her eyes and sighed.

What a perfect time to test her feelings for him again. Before he could think better of it, he ran his fingers through her hair. Her reaction was immediate. Her whole body relaxed, her smile widening. When she opened her eyes to look up at him, they were soft, maybe even loving.

But the "maybe" was still too daunting, and he pulled his hand back and looked away.

He needed to tell her how he felt. He liked her too much not to. He wanted her to look at him like that all the time. So why was he pulling out the controllers again to avoid her? Was it really better to wait and see what happened? Or should he just lay his heart bare right now?

He settled on the couch next to her, Marinette bending her knees to give him room without moving from her spot. Was she still giving him that loving look? Or had it turned into a frown because he was being a coward? He hunched forward under the weight of all his questions, resting his forearms on his knees.

"I bet I could beat you in my sleep," Marinette said. Her voice sounded normal, so he dared to look at her. Her face was mischievous as she stretched out with an exaggerated sigh, throwing her legs across his lap and pinning his arms down. "Care to bet against me?"

"Um, move. I need those arms."

"Make me."

Two more hints: the ease with which she touched him, and the way she seemed to save her most dazzling smiles just for him.

"Make you?" Massive crush or not, Adrien was not about to pass up a challenge. "I'll make you."

Marinette settled deeper into the cushions, pressing down onto his arms. It was the best trap he'd even been in, and he couldn't reach much to help him, just the coffee table in front of them. Leftover snacks littered the table, along with a half-filled glass of water. He slid it off the edge of the couch as Marinette squirmed to keep him in place.

With his limited movement, he couldn't lift the cup very high, so he mimed pouring it over her shins. She shrieked and kicked him in her scramble to get out of the way, and the glass spun out of his hand, splashing water all over him before landing on the floor. It soaked into his shirt and dripped through his hair.

"I'm sorry!" Marinette jumped up immediately, flapping her arms around her head so fast they blurred. "I'm so, so sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"It's fine," he assured her while rivulets of water tickled his down scalp. "It wasn't that much water."

She groaned at the lie. "I'll go get you a towel."

Before he could protest, she ran toward the bathroom door. Adrien followed her, dripping. "It was my fault. Please don't-"

A fluffy towel muffled his words as she threw it over his head and started rubbing it into his hair. "Marinette," he mumbled. "You don't have t-" The pace of her hands became less frantic as she moved from the crown of his head, moving down to dry the back.

"Sorry," she whispered. Her tempo became even slower as she worked the sides of his heads, rubbing gently so she wouldn't hurt his ears. Plans to "accidentally" get himself soaked on a weekly basis were already starting to form in his mind. He wasn't sure if it was the attention she was paying him or her rhythmic pace as she stroked circles around his ears, but every muscle in his body seemed to be melting.

"Is that any better?" she asked. Her hands stilled, but she didn't remove the towel from his face. Her breathing was quick and shallow.

Adrien lifted up the edge to reveal Marinette's panicked face. What did she think? That he was going to hate her because of some water? He wasn't a cat.

Her eyes searched his, looking for anger or rejection or who knew what, and he gently grabbed her face with both hands to bring her back to reality. And as an excuse to act out at least the beginning of every fantasy he had about kissing her. With the way she was looking at him, he could even pretend that they were about to come true.

"It's fine," he said, rubbing a thumb across her cheek. "I'm all dry now." A cold spot was soaking through at his shoulder, but he ignored it.

After a few more seconds of wide-eyed staring, Marinette slid the towel off his head and looped it behind his neck, holding onto both ends and giving no indication that she wanted him to remove his hands. So he didn't.

Another clue. It finally was enough. He knew.

Leaning in slowly, so she would have time to change her mind, he looked at her lips, then raised an eyebrow in question. Marinette used the towel to pull him closer to her, closing her eyes. A rush of heat swooped in his stomach when he felt her body brush against him. Her breath fanned his face as he inched closer. They hovered, anticipation building, noses brushing, lips quivering, until he tilted his head and finally closed his eyes.

Without warning, the door swung open. "Adrien."

Marinette and Adrien jumped apart, the towel falling on the floor.

Nathalie walked in, staring at her tablet and almost ignoring the teenagers she was speaking to. She hadn't noticed anything. "Your piano teacher is here. Ms. Dupain-Cheng's ride is waiting downstairs." Without another word, or even looking around the room for them, she left, leaving the door open after her.

"Um," Adrien said. Cursing the interruption, he bent to pick up the towel. When he straightened he reached out for Marinette's hand, but she was already across the room, picking up her things and not looking at him, her face glowing red.

She snuck him a peek once as she was putting her shoes back on, but when she saw him staring at her, she looked down again. Probably because he was gaping at her like an idiot.

Marinette finally walked back over to him, eyeing the wet spot on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-

"Want a hug?" he asked, offering his arms. "It's nice and cold."

She chuckled as she leaned into him, resting her cheek against his. "Thanks for having me over." Her breath blew his hair, tickling him. "And for letting me beat you."

"Oh, yes," he said. The hug didn't feel cold at all. It was warming him up from head to toe. "I lost on purpose, just for you." How was he supposed to just let her walk out his door, when all he wanted to do was hold her and never move from this spot again? "Because your happiness is so important to me."

As she pulled away and stepped back, he grabbed her hand, and then just as quickly let it go, unsure how to recreate the mood that had so quickly evaporated.

They waited, neither moving, Adrien hoping for at least another goodbye kiss like she'd given him last week. Without warning her expression crumpled, and she walked through the door without saying goodbye at all.

She'd been waiting, he realized as soon as she was gone. She'd been waiting for a goodbye kiss, too.

Adrien ran to the window in time to watch her walk down the front steps. He followed her with his eyes as she slid into the car. When she turned to pull the door closed behind her, she paused, looking straight at him. He waved, but she shut it without returning the gesture.

"Tomorrow," he vowed. It was Saturday, and they had another practice in the morning. The first words out of his mouth were going to be his confession.

He just needed to figure out what to say.

***

Saturday mornings used to mean stifling isolation. There was no school to look forward to. His tutors often had the day off, and if there wasn't a photoshoot, he was likely to be confined to his room. Another benefit of having Marinette in his life was that he was no longer alone on the oppressive weekends.

"You're smart, and kind, and funny." Adrien muttered to himself in the back seat, his driver occasionally looking at him with concern through the rearview mirror. He'd been rehearsing multiple versions of his speech since last night. It was only a few minutes until he saw her, and he still hadn't decided what to say. Should he just blurt it out? "Marinette, I love you." Or should he build up to it? "I've loved spending time with you, and you're my best friend, and lately you've become more than that." He tested them both out. They were both fine, so why did they both sound so... wrong?

Maybe he wasn't being specific enough. Anyone could tell her she was great. So what should he say about her specifically? This only led him back to all the other lists of rehearsed lines he'd come up with in the last 12 hours, her confidence, her infectious joy, her compassion...

The car pulled up to the curb, and Adrien stepped out, knees a little wobbly with anxiety. He was going to have to just wing it. Say what felt right in the moment. Which was a terrifying idea, but now he had no choice.

The bell tinkled and the smell of fresh bread and chocolate chip cookies filled his nose as soon as he pushed open the bakery door. Sabine and Tom turned to him with wide smiles.

"She's already waiting for you," Sabine said, waving him through the door to their upstairs apartment. "Have fun!"

His footsteps seemed to echo through the small hallway. Hesitating only a second, he knocked on the door that led into her living room, and waited, heart pounding.

Marinette, I have something to tell you. Marinette, I love you. Marinette, before we start to play, can we talk? He'd promised himself. The first words out of his mouth would be his confession. Don't mess it up, Adrien. Just tell her you love her. 

The door was yanked inward so fast that it hit the wall. Adrien jumped. "M-marinette. I lo-"

"I've got a new idea! Come here!" She reached through the doorway and clamped down on his wrist, then turned and towed him through the living room and up her stairs. A woman on a mission.

He had no idea what that mission was, or what really was happening, so his imagination started supplying possibilities. She got a new game? She needed to show him her newest art project? He tripped on the top step when he thought that maybe she was dragging him up to her room because she couldn't wait to kiss him.

He imagined her snapping the trapdoor shut, with the pink curtains closed and her room dimly lit by filtered light. She would let go of his hand, then turn around to face him, before slowly stepping into his space. She'd slide her hands up his shirt, stopping at the collar, grabbing fistfuls to pull herself closer. And closer. Their faces were millimeters apart. He could count the lashes of her half-closed eyes. He reached for her eagerly, wrapping both arms around her waist, pulling her closer, her stomach flush against him.

"I love you," she whispered. "You're the only one for me." Her lips parted slightly as her eyes slid shut.

Marinette's voice was suddenly bright and cheery. "Pick your favorite button!"

Adrien's daydream popped.

Sunlight flooded her room through uncovered windows. Her trapdoor was still open, as her parents had always requested, and she waited for an answer expectantly, bouncing on her toes and not looking smitten in the slightest.

"Uh, what?"

"Buttons," she repeated. "Which one's your favorite?"

She'd dragged him upstairs for sewing help. He cleared his throat and smoothed out the collar of his shirt, which hadn't been rumpled by her hands.

"I've never thought about it," he said, keeping the disappointment out of his voice. "Flat buttons are probably the easiest to sew with, but Father says shank buttons are almost as easy, and I think they look... What?"

Marinette was laughing at him. "No, your favorite controller button, you goof." She waved one in front of his face. The A button had been taped down. Taking it in both hands again, she mimed playing an intense round. Enthusiasm bubbled off of her. He had no idea what this was about, but he was already on board with whatever it was. (Even if it wasn't kissing.)

"I'm confused." And also in love with you. 

It was too late for his confession to be the first thing out of his mouth. His fingers itched to touch her, but she was too excited to let him interrupt.

"See, we're getting too good. We need a new way to push ourselves, so I thought, give ourselves a handicap." She pointed at the incapacitated button. "And go head-to-head. What do you think?"

"I think that's amazing."

As soon as the moment passed, he'd realized what a perfect opportunity he'd missed. Marinette was scrambling across her room to tape down the B on his controller. "You're," he whispered, too quiet for her to hear. "I think you're amazing."

"Catch!" The controller flew, and he caught it deftly. Marinette flopped onto the chaise, leaning sideways against the cushioned back, leaving enough room for him to sit at the end, if he didn't mind her feet poking his thigh, which he definitely did not.

The computer monitor flickered as Marinette scrolled through the settings. Adrien leaned forward as the round began, trying to ignore the way her toes jabbed him when he got a hit on her. It didn't happen very often. The handicap was almost impossible to play with. Marinette won every round easily. At the end of the fourth round, she covered a fake yawn and stretched lazily, and he finally realized something important.

"You practiced this beforehand, you dirty cheater!"

Marinette laughed wickedly as his character was knocked out again.

"You're almost as good as I am now, young grasshopper. I've got to maintain my superiority somehow!"

"We both know that isn't true." He swiped for her hands, but she was too fast, moving the controller out of his reach. "Give yourself a second handicap."

"Make me," she said, her feet pushing against him to press herself further into the back of the chaise.

"Give it."

"No."

He leaned over her legs and into her space, but she kept the controller away from him, grinning wildly. Feigning defeat, Adrien leaned back. When Marinette lowered it into her lap, he pounced forward, but she was still too quick, lifting both hands behind her head, hiding it out of sight.

"Hand it over!"

"No!"

He reached, and she leaned back farther, one elbow poking his cheek. Pushing into her, he strained to get the controller, and she arched underneath him to keep it away.

His arms were longer than hers. He should have been able to get it. His fingers found her wrists, and he slid them up to find her fingers.

A warm breath on his cheek made him stop. He was face-to-face with Marinette. He was nearly lying on top of her, pressing her into the chaise. They were both breathing hard, though they'd barely moved. One of her pigtails was loose.

"It's not fair," he said, mouth dry. "You need to make it even."

She lifted her head, until her face filled his vision and their noses touched. "Make me." Her lips brushed his with each word.

He kissed her.

Every longing moment, every loving thought he'd ever had about her poured through him into his kiss. Again and again his lips found hers. Somewhere, a controller clattered to the floor, and then her hands were on him, in his hair, splayed against his neck, pulling him closer, and he kissed her harder, caressing her face, pulling out her loose pigtail so he could feel her soft hair between his fingers.

Kissing a line from the corner of her mouth to ear and back, he asked, "Have I sufficiently dazed you?"

She hummed dreamily in response.

Kissing just below her ear, he asked, "Think you can play like this?"

A whisper. "No."

Taking his time, he worked his way back across her cheek, making sure to kiss every inch until he reached the corner of her lips, but he stopped just shy of them, gently kissing her nose instead. "Good."

Somehow, he managed to pull himself off of her. Marinette clutched at his shirt, trying to get him to come back, but he circled the chaise and retrieved her controller, holding it out to her. He loved the way her fingers hovered over her mouth as her eyes wandered up his arm. When her eyes reached his lips, her fingers pressed down hard, like it was the only way she could stop herself from kissing him again.

"Up for another round?" he asked, pointing a thumb over his shoulder to the computer screen.

"Yes, but not of that." She scowled. Half of her hair was loose around her shoulder.

"Let me win this game and you have a deal."

"Never."

"Poor, Marinette," he said, settling down next to her and clicking Start. "No more kisses for you."

Ten seconds into the round and Adrien already knew his plan was going to end badly. His hands were shaking. Marinette's character wobbled. Every time he licked his lips, he could still taste her.

And she had realized that if she rubbed her toes against his hip, he would jump and look over at her. The first time she did it, he was unsure if it had been on purpose, but the second, he turned to find a sly smile waiting for him. This girl was going to drive him crazy.

"I don't think much of your tactics," she said a minute later, as her character finished him off. It had taken three times longer than normal because they were both awful. "You're clearly just as dazed as I am."

"Not nearly enough," he said. Tossing the controller onto the desk, he reached for her waist and slid her into his lap. She came willingly, looping her arms around his neck and weaving her fingers into his hair.

One of his hands stayed at her waist, the other reached up and pulled her other pigtail loose. "You really do look good like this," he breathed.

"You love me," she giggled. "Admit it."

He leaned forward, forehead resting on hers, eyes locked. "Make me."

"Oh, believe me-" Marinette's voice was a low whisper, and Adrien felt a thrill. "I will."

***

Author’s note: This might just be my new favorite thing I’ve ever written.  :)  I wrote this in response to a poll I took a zillion years ago.  It’s finally here!  Thank you @ours-polaires, @khanofallorcs and @actuallycannotflirt for beta’ing this one!  I know it was long, and I truly appreciate the help!

@tbehartoo 

#adrinette #adrienette #ml #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #no miraculous au