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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

Bucky Finding Out That You Faked an Orgasm...

Warnings | smut, hurt feelings

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Well let’s just say, it was your mistake to speak about your sex life in the common room with Nat. Being a trained avenger, usually well around of your surroundings, you should have known better

It didn’t bother the Black Widow, she had nothing to hide, she just wanted a glass of wine and a bedroom talk with her friend

Bucky would be walking around the corner, about to surprise you, after FRIDAY telling him where you were; he had arrived home early after a mission

As he hears your voice, he smiles to himself, more so when he hears that you are speaking about him. It really makes him love you that little bit more, and appreciate everything you do for him

Though as he listens more, he really gets how much you do for his own sake

“You got anything your hiding from lover boy Barnes?” Natasha’s question makes him shake his head, because you tell each other everything

But the pause that comes before your response makes him nervous, fiddling with his vibranium fingers as he hears you take in a deep sigh

He shouldn’t be doing this, violating your privacy, but in his defence, you are in a very public area of the compound, if he wasn’t standing here then someone else like Scott would be. The only difference is, he’d be vigilant, using his suit that made him the size of a tic tac

“Well....” that didn’t sound good, as you elongated the syllable, and Bucky cranes his neck around the corner subtly to watch you take a swig out of your glass

“Come on y/l/n.” Yes, come on y/n, he thinks, his mind thinking just like Nat’s. The only difference is that he doesn’t voice it

“The other day, when I got back from my mission in Vienna, I was just so tired, and Buck wanted to have sex.”

He recalled that, watching you drop your avenging suit before him as you climbed into the bed with him, in nothing more than your underwear. He couldn’t resist, and it ended in a good time for the both of you...

“And?”

“I faked cumming, so I could go to sleep.”

His eyes went wide, and he stepped back, audibly walking away as the sound worried you

Glancing round the corner, you saw his back walking away, and it sent you into panic mode. Obviously he heard, and in that moment you couldn’t feel more guilty.

“Nat I’ve got to go.” She understood, as you headed back to your shared room with the super soldier, and when you entered, you found him sat in bed, a book in his hand.

His jaw was tense, putting you on edge

You tried to speak to him, though it seemed that the man was insistent on not speaking to you

He was giving you the silent treatment

“Fine.” You sat the other side of the bed, tugging at the book, well aware of how childish the pair of you must have looked fighting over a book

The item ended up ripped in half, and Bucky quirked a stern and unimpressed eyebrow towards you

“Couldn’t you have let me finish?” He jabbed at you, sighing loudly, as he turned to you, awaiting for you to get whatever apology you had thought of out

“I’m sorry.” Of course you were, he could read the sadness and guilt that was resonating behind your eyes.

As he grunted, the man crossed his arms, lightly scratching the scruff on his chin

You couldn’t help but ask, “why are you so bothered about it?” Because he seemed more bothered about this than by any of your previous fights.

“Back in my day, it never used to matter if a woman didn’t cum, it was all for the man’s pleasure. I don’t wanna feel like I’m stuck in that life”

Now you understood, and thus, you began stroking down his closest arm, which so happened to be the vibrating prosthetic

“Well then, how about we erase memories from that time we had sex. And make new ones?” He was wary

“You promise you’re not going to fake it?”

Of course you werent

Overstimulation, that’s all imma say

And so you can expect that he was going to town on you, eating your pussy out until you came in his mouth like five times

Using his fingers until your pussy is ThrObbInG

And he for sure knows that none of them are fakes, as he watches your wetness drip down the lips of your pussy and soak your bedsheets

First when he gets his cock out, hed take you from behind as he pounds your pussy, wrapping his hand through your hair

He’d definitely make remarks about you faking an orgasm and lying to him, giving your ass sudden spanks as he rams in and out of you, leaving it nice and red for his eyes to roam

Probably choke you a little too as he pulls your body up against him,pinching your breasts as he mutters words against the junction of your neck and shoulder

Biting down on your shoulder, because he wants you to have marks after this to remember the consequences of your little stunt

Before he’s about to cum, he would pull out, making you whine, as he picks you up like a rag doll, pinning you against the wall as he roughly fucks you against it

You’d claw at his back as your head repeatedly hits against the wall, making you slightly dizzy

This would last for hours, in between, he’d go back to eating you out, shoving his tongue into your well fucked entrance.

Eventually you’d pass out, and when you woke up, you’d find yourself clothed in one of his shirts, as he is sat in bed next to you, another goddamn book in his hand

“Oh, you’re awake.” He’d nonchalantly review, his eyes still on the pages as he flips through its contents. “Why don’t you finger fuck yourself for me, so I know that you weren’t faking it with me earlier?”

You’d about die then and there, as you’re still feeling rather sore. But you have a safe word for a reason, though, you want to prove to him that you’re willing to do make it up to him anyway

And so you spread your legs, pulling apart the lips of your swollen pussy as you locate your entrance and slip a finger inside, whimpering as you stared at your boyfriend, as he shuffles about to kneel before you

His dick is hard but he pays no mind to it, as he reaches past your hand and slaps your slit, emitting sounds of pain and pleasure from you

“Tired?” He’d tease, and you’d nod as your covering your hand with your juices, tears running down your face.

“Good, you’re gonna keep going until you can’t keep those pretty eyes open again doll”

Let’s just say you didn’t last too long until that happened, and from it, you had learnt that you were going to fake another orgasm again

You had another mission the next day.

As you sat on the quinjet, Bucky smugly stared at you from across the harbour, watching as you shuffled uncomfortably, feeling every ounce of soreness as you tried to remain as vigilant for the reason for your pain as possible

“Oi, you alright y/n?” Clint’d ask you, as you hummed an okay out. Though Bucky would not let that suffice as the only answer

“Don’t lie y/n.” He tutted with a smirk behind the archer’s back. “She didn’t get much rest last night, I think you spent too much time talking with Nat.”

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jinnwenhe · 4 years

Text

regarding romance!

╒══════════════════╕

Used artwork credits

Hop

Bede

Leon

Raihan

╘══════════════════╛

———☆️

Hop🍀

It started as the cliché love story about falling in love with your very own bestfriend

Which, actually turned out great??

His Zacian/Zamazenta loves you as much as it's trainer does, and is willing to protect you from anything

Probably because it observed Hop being protective over you, and proceeding to do the same

Sure it might took a toll on him when you defeated him on the championship semi-finals, but he wanted you to be happy more than anything

He's such a sweetheart even if he doesn't show it much

The type to appreciate small little things, especially when it comes from you

"Let's camp together!!"

You camped together

He got chased by a wild steelix whilst trying to gather data for his research later

His Zamazenta/Zacian was busy playing with your own legendary

*from the distance* "GAH! HELP!"

You ran after him and calmed down the wild steelix

Then you walked to him and checked if he got any wounds or scratches, which leads you to cupping his face gently with a worried look on your face

Hop's blushing

He's freaking out inside

You didn't notice the tint of blush dusting his cheeks,which gradually reddens with each second that passes

"im okay, dont worry" he tried his best reassuring you

Even though he's blushing, he proceeded to press his forehead gently against yours, closing his eyes and smiling

oh no he's cute

You're blushing

haha blushy reader

You let him do his thing, its somewhat calming

He's warmm

His hands are calloused, different from yours; you just remembered this when he placed his hand on top of yours while you were checking for his wounds from before

This just shows how much he's been working off to reach the champion title

And yet he's completely alright with you taking the spotlight

After all, you're his shining star

And he wouldn't have it in any other way

You let him borrow your champion cape

And he lets you borrow his labcoat

It fits just right with you! And it got his scent, which calms you down whenever you're feeling anxious

When you wear his labcoat, you're 1000000000% irresistible to his eyes

"Don't be so adorableee" he said as he pulled you into a hug and burying his face in your neck

You only laughed softly at his reaction. He was blushing too,,,

You often waited for him to finish his lab work, even if it's until late hours

He's a really hard worker, no wonder he stayed until late

"Im sorry for making you wait"

He looks exhausted, but tried his best to pull a bright smile, not wanting to worry you

You only gave him a warm hug, which surprised him at first before he hugs you back and proceed to walk you to your house

💓💓💓 < your heart

Comfort time

There's usually some jerks who'd tease you for being the champion, or flirt with you in an impolite way

If Hop caught on to this, he would politely ask them to leave

If they still dont understand, his legendary comes out of his pokeball and growl at them

He'd ask them one more time to stop bothering you, but this time, with a menacing smile that says "stay here any longer and you wont get to see another daylight"

Then he'd check up on you, asking if you're alright, if they did anything to you or whatnot

Hed wrap his arms around your waist and drape his labcoat over you, because he knows his labcoat always manages to calm you down

"It's okay, you're okay, everything is alright now, c'mere"

You let him hug you as you feel safe around him, and you two stayed in that position until you feel alright again

💕💕

———☆️

Bede🍰

He's not the best at showing affection but at least he tries

You help him come out with quizzes for his gym challenge

And sometimes joke about the poses he makes when practicing

Sometimes, he gets reminded that you're the champion of Galar and he's way out of your trainer level

Which actually motivates him to become the strongest gym leader there is by pushing past his limits

"I'll show you how strong fairy types can be"

He said to himself as he was thinking about you

People kept misunderstanding fairy types after all, and thats a big mistake

You appreciate his efforts in maxing out his strength, and you show it by coming to his fairy stadium whenever he battles a challenger

You texted him "good luck, I'll be cheering 4 u!❤️❤️👍" before his matches start

And you looked at his direction after sending the message

He has just gotten your message, and opened it

Which leads to him blushing furiously as he covers his face with one of his hands

He took a deep breath and tried to regain his composure, only to fail miserably when he saw you looking at his direction with pure ambition and determined eyes as you grinned happily

All that i could say is, he's red as a beet

He wont lose this match, not when you're watching him.

He puts extra effort when you're watching his match, and made sure not to slip up. It'd be embarrassing if he did.

Opal notices this and only smiled seeing her successor acting out of his place whenever you're around

Opal knows something that you dont, and that's Bede's feelings for you

After his match ended, his Hatterene walked towards your direction, pulling you into a tight hug

You were surprised, but apparently Hatterene has grown to like you ever since she first met you

And when you look at Bede's direction, he was looking away with his arms crossed infront of his chest, visibly drowning in embarassment

,,,you wondered, is Bede projecting on his Hatterene or what,

Yes, yes he is

So you asked him if he also wants a hug, which of course he answered with "Why would i want a hug from someone like you? That'd be an insult to me"

You let go of Hatterene and hugged him anyways

He flinched when you hugged him, not knowing where to put his hands and just let them stay still in a defensive pose

Hatterene watched with a smile from behind you, seeing her master in such a flustered state was truly something new for the Pokemon

Not long after, Bede finally let his arms wrap around your waist, giving in to his subconscious and just hug you

he wanted to hug you anyways so thats a win win situation

You were actually surprised when he hugged you back

He smells nice!! Like perfume?? Cologne?? Floral scent

His Hatterene decided to join in and wrapped her arm around you both, making you all hug even more tightly

Bede cant handle this well.

No, not at all.

His face was really red and its hot— in all honesty, its cute, but he was burning

"Why do you have to embarrass me like this?"

You buried your face in his neck, which startled him as he couldn't think at all

"Y-you!!"

He feels nice and soft, so you're not planning to let go any sooner, likewise with Hatterene.

Bede's mind: ASDFGHJKL????—GODDAMMI—

OKAY NOW COMFORT TIME

His true nature would come out when you're not feeling yourself or when people would makw you feel like shit

"Hey.."

His face shows concern, but it still his usual look of coldness— however, his actions are warm despite his cold features

He'd let you wear his coat as he battles anyone who dared to hurt you

"Are you alright now..?"

He cupped your face and made you look at his face, swiping off the tears that stained your face with his thumbs delicately

He hated seeing you cry, and he'll try better next time to make sure you didn't cry

———☆️

Leon🌟

He's kind at all but sometimes he's just... "???????"

Training!! Dates!!

More like battle tower dates because he really admires your strength as a champion

Occasionally, he'd visit your house and check up on you, wondering if you're free for the day for "quality time"

At first, he was surprised to see one of the legendaries answering the door for you

And he couldn't resist to ruffle it's hair

your legendary on the other hand was kind of irritated by it

So it let out a displeased howl

Which leads you to come down stairs and see who is it

"L—leon?"

He looked up and greet you with a goofy grin as your legendary returned to your side, walking with you

He treats you like a gentleman, and sometimes is very strict with your training regimen

In which you usually whine about because you're the current champion and you have no business listening to him

But he'd swoon you with lovely words

And you would easily fall for it

you hate this

You hate him

No you dont

You love him, you could never hate a goofball like him anyways

Hey did i ever mention Leon's sense of direction is shitty

You went on a date in Wyndon a couple of times and he still gets lost everytime

"Ah!! Hey—....."

"Im lost again aren't i?"

He tried to find his way back to you but got surrounded by paparazzis

Even if he's not the current champion

You saved his butt since he couldn't say no to the people and his fans

He said thank you and hugged you, lifting you up to the air before pulling you close to him

This only made you laugh softly as you hugged him back, letting your fingers comb his thick lavender like hair

His body is warm and comforting, you really like his cuddles and hugs

He came into your house one time when you didn't answer his calls or messages, only to find you drown in your anxiety and self loathing

He pulled you in his arms and let you cry on his shoulder until you're all done and alright again

He'd draw circles over your back and tell you reassuring words— tell you that you're more than enough and he's grateful to have you here, alive and well

Your Zacian/Zamazenta got out of it's pokeball and helped you in calming you down too by giving you small licks on your knee

It'd whine whenever you're sad and climb onto your bed, nudging your arm afterwards as if it's asking what's wrong

You're lucky to have them both whenever you need them the most, and they're lucky to have you

———☆️

Raihan 🐲

It's finally the Character y'all been waitin for, dragon boi coming through

Okay serious talk here— Raihan is TALL

His hoodies makes you look smaller than you already are

You tried copying his "Gaooo~" pose a couple of times while wearing his hoodie

Its cutest thing he has ever seen his entire life

It makes him melt everytime

Okay aside from that, he's gentle and laid back, even if his personality is quite the opposite when he's on battle

He's cLINGY ASF

Don't forget his fangs, never forget his fangs

You're actually curious about his fangs since the first day you saw him

And he lets you touch it whenever you like

Youre still curious, because what the hell, its so cool

The first day you saw him after defeating him in a match and gain your gym badge, he immediately took an interest in you and your strength

"Hey Challenger!"

He called you before you tried to take your leave, gaining your attention

He then asked you if you want to practice with him next time, and have a rematch when you've become the champion

You agreed and exchanged numbers

What can i say, he spams you like?????? A lot

And casually sends you pictures of him and his duraludon

You love his dragons, especially flygon

Flygon loves you too, and one time it wanted to come with you

Raihan lets you keep his Flygon and you send him pictures of you with it

He sends emotes of duraludon crying, wanting to join you and your fun trip with Flygon to grab the Champion title

After you took the Champion title, Raihan greeted you with a big hug

And you hug him back with no hesitation

"Congratulations, may i have a selfie with the new Champion?"

He asked in a teasing manner, letting you down on your feet as you nodded

You took a selfie selfwith him numerous times before he posted it to his social media

He captioned 'First person to get a selfie with the new Champion'

He took pride in that, and some of his fans were jealous that you managed to get a selfie with him

From that day onwards, he'd have casual selfies with you, sometimes hilarious one and sometimes its just for showing off

You didn't mind it really, he's a celebrity anyways, so you understand why he does that

"Hey.. do stars have feelings"

It was three am what the fuck Raihan

You squinted at your screen seeing his message

"Why in the Galar would you be awake, dear Dragon tamer?"

You answered him

And immediately he answered "oh? The Champion is awake?"

You guys didn't sleep afterwards and was sending streaks of blurry selfies

It was fun and helped you cheer up

You got some of his blurry pics that he captioned "party rock in the house" when clearly its just him and his pokemons

What a goofball pt.2

You love him anyways shut up

Haha smol reader pt.2

548 notes · View notes

sexy-bee-juice · 3 years

Text

“I love[d] you”

Pairing: Tsukishima x reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, light mentions of smut??(i am so sorry if its bad but i’ve never written it so-), fighting [karasuno throwin hands-]

Summary: Tsukki cheats on reader, and the team finds out after you break down.

https://youtu.be/50VNCymT-Cs

heres a song to make it worse. Im sorry.

“Kei?”

“Hmm?” He said, looking up from his book.

You were both in bed, cuddling, you looking through your phone, with your boyfriend of only one year beside you. Sure, it’s only been a year, but you’ve been crushing on him since middle school. Feelings ran deep.

You smiled at him.

“I love you.” He stared at you for only a moment, then looked away blushing.

“I love you too.” Then he reached over and kissed you lightly on the forehead. “To the moon and back.”

It had been nearly four months since you had first said those words to Kei, and you were still head over heels for him.

You were the manager for the Karasuno Volleyball Club, and a third year. You were only making your way to the gym where they were practicing, skipping along, happy because the older third years were coming back to see the team.

Kageyama and Hinata were going to be ecstatic, especially Hinata. Suga, Azumane, and Sawamura were already on their way. Then your phone beeped with a message from Kei.

can’t make it to practice today, head hurts tell evryone else

You frowned. When you had left his house earlier he seemed fine... Oh well. Later you just needed to make him some of that tea you had at your house that your mother always made for you when you had a headache.

alrightyyyyy. see you after practice. i’ll tell the alums u cant make it bby! hope you feel better soon! :)

No reply. You brushed it off, as he usually did this to you. Plus his head hurt as well.

You checked the time, and jumped as you saw you were still ten minutes away from the gym, and you were supposed to be there fifteen minutes before everyone else. AHHHHHHH. Gotta rush, gotta rush, gotta rushhhhh. You thought as you ran as fast as you could to where practice was gonna be.

When you finally reached the school, you saw that Shoyo and Tobio were already there, with Shoyo bouncing around, singing whatever song he came up with, probably mere minutes before, and Tobio aggressively yelling at him, trying to pull him down.

“Hey guys! Stop that sorry Im late lets get inside and you two can start warming up before everyone else gets here oh my god I need water-” You said, out of breath and gasping, dripping in sweat.

Shoyo smiled and offered you his hand to the place where you had fallen on the ground.

“Hey! No worries y/n-Chan! I have some water for you here! Well, it was supposed to be for me, but you can have cuz I don't need it and I’m sure I can get someone else to share with me!” You smiled up gratefully at Shoyo, and took his extended hand, pulling yourself up.

An instant sense of cool relief flowed over you as you swallowed down the chilling water. God, you couldn’t have asked to be the manager for a better team.

Soon, the rest of the team began to minnow in, laughing and talking, carefree as usual, until (as expected) Shoyo nearly jumped on Tobio after giving the loudest screech ever.

“Jeez, what happened? GET OFF ME YOU RUNT! SCRUB! IDIOT! I SWEAR I’LL-” The words died in his throat as he saw who has just entered the gym.

“AH! SUGA-SAN! AZUMANE-SENPAI! CAPTAIN! NOYA-SANNNNNN! TANAKA-SENPAI!!!!” You smiled, looking back to the alums of Karasuno.

“AHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SHOYOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Bellowed Noya as he jumped over to Shoyo, Tanaka at his heels.

“BROOOOOOOO WE MISSED YOU!” said Tanaka, tackling both Tobio and Shoyo in a hug, lifting them both off the floor.

“HEY GERROF!” said Tobio, muffled by his jacket.

You walked up to the older alums, smiling greetings and welcomes.

“So? How’s things with you all?” You asked.

“Ehhh, same old, same old. How you managing...as...manager-? I- wait-” stutters Azumane.

“No, no, its fine. These two still fight and bicker but they’re easy to manage nowadays.”

“oh? Jeez, y/n-Chan, you have it easy.” Said Suga. “When I was still here as a third-year, it was definitely harder to manage them, and the rest of the team...”

You smiled, happy to see them, and continued watching the four freaks reunite.

“I miss my children...” You heard Suga murmur, barely discernable from the now probably-not-human-noises the four were making. Daichi and Azumane were trying their best not to burst out laughing behind Suga, who was wistfully staring at his “children”.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Daichi-san asked you the one thing you forgot to tell them.

“So...where’s Tsukishima?” He asked, looking around as if your boyfriend were hiding. As if he would do something so childish.

“oh! Yeah, I forgot to tell you all. He said to tell you all. He said he had to skip today because his head was hurting.”

“Ah, yes. The head pain. An unfortunate enemy.” said Tanaka-san, looking up from the place he was wrestling with the team. You giggled.

“Well, when Kiyoko-senpai arrives i think i might leave for a bit to take care of Kei, then i’ll come back, just letting you guys know, so don’t-”

“SHIMIZU-SENPAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII” You heard Noya and Tanaka yell simultaneously.

“And that’s my cue-” You said swiveling to the door, and sprinting back to the Tsukishima residence.

As the door was always open for you, you didn’t even bother knocking, but entered right away. Nobody seemed to be home either.

As you silently made your way to your boyfriends room, you saw that you were pretty much already a significant part of their lives. They had pictures of you with them all, framed. Sticky notes with reminders for you on the fridge. You even had a spot at the table with them, for the nights you stayed for dinner.

Truly, this was your home.

https://youtu.be/Mhj15W23IjA [more pain, you masochist’s]

You smiled softly as you made your way to his bedroom, humming along the way, so any other sound went unnoticed by you.

As you reached his door, you smiled at the little dino sticker he had stuck there at the beginning of your relationship. It was worn, but it still stuck there, serving as a reminder.

“It’s so you don’t get lost when you need to find me in the house. It shouldn’t be hard, but knowing you, you can go out for milk then buy a swimming pool.” You smiled as he smacked it on, and he turned the knob to his door, permitting you to enter.

You turned the knob.

“Tsukki? I know I should have come earlier or something but could you help me with-”

“Idiot. Just get in here. I couldn’t care less anyways, what? Can’t solve a simple question?”

“Tsukiiiiiiii, stop being so meaaaannnn.” he smirked at you.

“Don’t call me that.” you blinked up at him.

“uhhhh...call you what?”

“Tsukki. Don’t call me that.”

“oh. um. ok then.”

“call me Kei.”

you smiled up at him, tears swimming in your eyes.

You cracked open the door.

“Y/n?” He opened the door to his room, the dinosaur sticker still on it, only a couple months old.

“Yuppers.” he tilted your face up to him with his thumb and forefinger. “I-oh.”

Then he leaned down and kissed you ever so softly on your lips, eyes fluttering shut.

“I want you to stay with me forever...” He whispered.

“I will.” He smiled.

“Then I will too”

And you opened the door, smiling to yourself due to all the memories you made in this very spot.

Then your eyes widened.

no.

NO.

NO...

It can’t be real...

Kei would never.

but he.... he did.

And he didn’t even notice you open the door, he didn’t even see you or hear the gasp you let out as you took in what you saw. He only looked up from the girl he was fucking in front of him, sweaty and panting, bites and scratches over his back and on his neck, when you slammed the door.

No tears ran down your face, like most people. You just ran back to the gym, not even really getting tired just...numb.

he promised. He promised to be yours forever.

but he must have crossed his fingers. done something stupid. because he lied. he wasn’t ever soley yours. he wasn’t, he couldn’t be.

But still. You couldn’t cry.

1) You don’t cry. You never cried.

2)You couldn’t let anyone see you weren’t ok.

Fake it ‘till you make it.

“WAIT. Y/N! WAIT, WAIT WAIT, DON’T GO!” But why would you listen?

Everything went by in a blur. you were minutes away from the gym.

Minutes away from safety.

Then you could hide behind a mask and never let anyone see.

“Oh, hey y/n-Chan! That was kinda quick.” Said Daichi. You inhaled, pushing everything away.

You giggled.

“Uh, yeah. Kei had his mom there so I left it up to her, plus he told me to get back to practice.” He smiled.

“Glad to hear he’s doing alright.” You smiled back.

“Yeah. Anyways. Anything happen while I was gone?” He shook his hed.

“Just the usual. Noya and Tanaka with the freak twins are in a two-on-two, trying to kill each other, and Suga and Asahi are kinda trying to stop the death part.”

“Ah. I see. The norm then.”

“Y/n!” You froze.

NO. nononono not now.

Why would he do this if he never really cared?

“Oh, hey look! Its Tsukishima!” Said Daichi, a smile still on his face.

But rather than running towards him, like you usually would, you ran away. Right into the gym, and...

Right into Suga’s arms.

“Hey, slow down a bit or you might be worse than Noya and knock me over!” He smiled at you. But he was just too intuitive for his own good, damn it, and his smile fell immediately.

“Is something the matter?” You composed your expression, smacking a smile back onto your face, and as you opened your mouth to say all was fine, you were cut off.

“Y/n! no no no I can explain!” You looked at Suga. Fear in your eyes. Did he figure it out? But you didn’t want to look at Kei right now. You couldn’t.

“y/n? What happened?” You looked back up at him.

“...Nothing. I’m fine.”

“No! Y/n! You don’t understand! I love you! And only you!”

Oh, he shouldn’t have said that.

Because that’s what broke you.

And soon you had squirmed out from Suga’s grasp and fallen onto the floor, sobbing. You never cried. But if you didn’t just this once, you might have exploded.

“Y/n?! What-?”

Then suddenly the whole team was surrounding. You, some of them kneeeling down to your height.

“...y/n? W-what happened?” Asked Yamaguchi. You looked up at him, tears still streaking down your face.

“I-It was...I don’t-”

“Y/n! Y/n, please listen! Please, please, please I’m begging you!” Called Kei as he finally reached the doors to the gym, panting and gasping.

“Why would I listen to you? H-How am I supposed to believe anything you say anymore?”

At this, he reeled back, your words finally hitting him.

But before anyone moved, Daichi looked between both of you, and crouched down beside you. And so softly, he whispered:

“Did he...Please don’t tell me he did...? He cheated...?” You nodded and started to sob harder, and soon you were wrapped up in his embrace, while he petted the back of your head, whispering consoltations into your ear.

Unfortunately for Kei, the whole team heard.

“He did what to you?” Asked Noya, staring right at you, a stone cold expression on his face.

“He cheated on her.” Said Daichi, looking between you and Tsukki. “Tsukishima cheated on y/n.”

“And in the next moment, before anyone could react, Suga was standing right in front of Tsukki, glaring at him with the most terrifying expression on his face anyone has ever seen.

“You did what?”

“I- I c-cheat-” But before Tsukki could finish sentence, Suga had punched him right in the face.

“HOW COULD YOU?!?! WHY WOULD YOU EVER DO THAT TO ANYONE?!?” He screamed, tears now streaming down his face. “SHE LOVED YOU WITH ALL HER HEART AND LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO HER!” He pointed to you and Daichi.

“I-I didn’t m-mean to-” Stuttered Tsukki, eyes blown wide in fear, tears prickling in the corner, so close to spilling over.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU! LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO HER! LOOK WHAT YOU DID!” It looked like he was ready to land another punch across his face before Noya and Tanaka were there holding him back, and began to bring him back to where you were, still screaming at Tsukishima, tears likewise streaming down his face.

“Hold her.” Ordered Daichi, looking at Suga, who nodded and cradled you, still shaking.

“Hey, hey, calm down, I’m here, i’m here...”

This time Noya and Hinata were standing right in front of the boy who so towered over them.

“I don’t want you to come near her for a while. I don’t want to look at you anymore.” Said Noya, serious as ever. Tsukishima nodded.

As he looked to Hinata, he realized that tears were pricking the corners of his eyes, and he looked mad. Really mad. Then suddenly, he was on the ground, a sharp pain in his back.

Hinata had pushed him. He looked down at him, and shook his head, as if saying no.

But he didn’t say anything, and just walked away.

But, why? Why didn’t he yell? Why didn’t he scream? Why was he so... SO DAMN QUIET?!

Before Noya could do anything, as he was expected to do, Tanaka was there, herding them both away, and completely ignoring Tsukishima. Whatever they were doing, it made it worse.

Azumane couldn’t even go near Tsukishima.

Not only because he didn’t want to be near him, but because he was afraid. Not afraid of Tsukishima, no.

He was afraid because he might lose control. He might hurt him.

Then Daichi was there.

“I don’t want you to even come near her until she’s ready to talk to you. Do you understand me?” He nodded. Daichi glared at him for a minute that could have been an hour, a moment completely suspended in time.

“Then get out of here.” And Tsukishima scrabbled to his feet, not once looking away from Daichi until he was completely up on his feet. Only then did he let the tears fall.

You were gone now. And look what he did.

As he ran away from the Gym, you thought it was laughter you heard coming from Tsukishima, when really, he was sobbing.

You kept listening even as his cries echoed through the clearing, and even when they were gone.

“I loved you, Tsukishima.” You whispered.

a/n: Makin myself cry here

#tsukishima x reader #yamaguchi x reader #karasuno #karasuno x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyū!!#haikyu x reader #Kei Tsukishima #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima oneshot #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima kei

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whorehour · 4 years

Text

TXT - physical affection

(all members)

yeonjun

- aside from all the kisses and butt slapping that yeonjun has no shame in doing, he loves petting your head

- idk why but this man just gives me head petting vibes sjakskd

- like you'd go in for a hug and he'll just pet your head and hold you so tightly

- or like when you're trying to fall asleep hed let you lay on his chest and he'll pet your head softly :((

- its also his way of showing how much he cares for you

- like if you're feeling sad or stressed he'll pet your head in hopes that it'll calm you down

- :(((

- yeonjun also loves it when you sit on his lap

- it might be embarrassing to do in public but he doesn't care

- you're his and hes yours everyone should know that

- and having you sit on his lap with his hands wrapped around your waist as he draws circles with his thumbs on your stomach is the perfect way to show everyone

- in other words: yeonjun soft and clingy pls love him

Choi soobin

- soobin loves kissing your knuckles :(

- he gets really flustered with pda but this isnt too out there so he loves to do it whenever he gets the chance

- like you guys would just be sitting down with all the boys having a few laughs, and suddenly he grabs ur hand in his and lightly kisses it

- if hes confident that no one will pay attention to what hes doing, he'll let his lips linger a bit

- i feel like hed also love to circle your knuckles with his thumb

- especially when he's nervous

- also loves kissing your head and playing with your hair

- the smell of your shampoo comforts him a lot

- pls hes such a baby i want a soobin:(

choi beomgyu

- with beomgyu all types of physical affection are playful

- like hed have his hands around your waist and suddenly, he tickles you a little just to hear you giggle:(

- i feel like hes also love to tap your nose

- you'd be talking about something and hed just go "boop" ever so softly and continue listening to what you were saying

- hes also the type to swing your hands back and forth whenever you're walking

- hed try to keep everything light and playful

- he believes that a relationship doesn't need to be serious all the time and he shows you that through his actions

- (hed also bite you)

- playfully, of course

- ur relationship with gyu is filled with laughter and playfulness:(

kang taehyun

- OKAY LISTEN

- LISTEN

- intertwining his pinky with yours😳

- i don't think taehyun does a lot of physical affection but what he does he loves it dearly and he hopes you see how much he loves you

- youd be walking side by side and you feel his pinky reaching out to yours

- hed probably tell you how, to him, its a way to show you that he promises to love you forever :(((

- "hand holding is so boring...this is more meaningful"

- other than that hed probably develop a habit of sitting rlly close to you

- like shoulders touching

- i also feel like hed be really into pecking your ears softly

- cause its discreet and he can whisper a quick "i love you"

- heart = broken

heuning kai

- HUGS HUGS HUGS

- ANY KIND OF HUGS

- BACK HUGS, SIDE HUGS HE LOVES THEM ALL

- its not a hello/goodbye kiss with you two, its a hug

- and some of them last rlly long too

- almost too long

- but he can't help it you're so soft and warm

- and having you so close to him makes him feel like hes protecting you

- he just wants to keep you safe, warm and loved so please dont fight his hugs

- hed also love it when you tap his hands:(

- like youre sitting across from eachother and u reach to tap his hand slightly and play with his fingers

- he'll melt on the spot

- he also loves drawing shapes on the palm of your hand

- hed make you guess what he drew and most of the time its a heart because he loves you

#yeonjun soobin beomgyu taehyun heuningkai txt tommorowbytogether yeonjunsmut yeonjun fluff kpop requested imsosorry #yeonjun #soobin #beomgyu #taehyun #heuiningkai #txt fluff #txt scenarios #yeonjun fluff #soobin fluff #beomgyu fluff #taehyun fluff #heuiningkai fluff

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tendoki · 4 years

Note

pulling up with a baby with tendou bc of the quarantine and how the team would react pls 🥺 i feel like coach washijo would be happy and would try to convince yall to let the bby go to shiratorizawa 🤣

anon ive been having the worst day but this request made me lose my shit thank u so much GOOD LORD LMFAOO

I did my best to do this request JUSTICE lol. it turned into general baby havin hcs but I hope you like it regardless!! its rlly long so my bad 🥺

Shiratorizawa reacting to Tendou + his s/o leaving lockdown w a mfin BABY

OK. so he was prob at your apartment when the lockdown was announced

so since all his shit was already there, he had clothes and a toothbrush n it was just generally more convenient for him to stay at your place

he did! he messaged his mom to let her know where hed be, she Didnt Mind lol (we dont know much ab tendous family so?? aah)

now. not saying yall spent all ur time fucking. but u 100% did

and since u ran out of birth control and condoms pretty soon into quarentine......... 👀

both of u sorta just went

FUCK IT

both of you were pretty in love anyway, and even if things didnt work out, you guys figured that youd always work together to be the best parents for the kid you could possibly be

which led to were ur at now. a measly week out of quarantine. n ur being rushed to the labour ward.

tendou is RUNNING AFTER U W HIS LONG ASS LEGS

shiratorizawa closed for the rest of the academic year, which meant that as a 3rd year, you guys and a lot of the team wouldnt see eachother in uniform again

but not to worry!! to make up for the missed celebrations theyve organised a prom and a couple days where 3rd years can come in and give proper goodbyes to everyone, including the coaches!!

everyone on the team showed up, because they wanted to say bye to their senpais 🥺🥺

but. that's like 3 months from ur labour

so when u n tendou pull up to the school, with a 3month old CHILD they r. astounded.

they know its u guys' tho

literally theres not even the possibility for a JOKE that u cheated on tendou because the kid has the same fucking hair.

it's only a little tuft (u know what anime babies look like lol) but that nose n that hair? TENDOU SATORIS GENES CAME THRU

the baby has ur eyes. and compared to the rest of its tiny little face?? they're fucking HUGE

you guys let ushijima hold him (I feel like youd have a son?) and ngl ushi cries.

it's a single tear but tendou will INSIST that waka was SOBBING years afterward

everyone is so attached to the kid sorry

USHIJIMA IS THE GODFATHER LMAO DID U EXPECT ANYTHING ELSE???

the baby is so attached to semi tho!!! the second semi reaches forward to hold the kid and poke at its fat lil cheeks, hes giggling and blubbering up at his uncle semi 🥺

JWJDJD GOSHIKI FREEZES WHEN YOU OFFER HIM TO HOLD THE KID. HE JUST GOES PALE AND FREEZES UP

REON IS SO GOOD WITH THE BABY

he offers to help you guys go shopping for more baby stuff 🥺🥺 and when his mom finds out ab the kid (team sleepovers were at reons house n u were ALWAYS invited so she LOVES U sorry I make the rules)

she gives u some of reons old baby clothes!!! n ur LOSING ur mind because WDYM THIS TALL MFER WAS ONCE LIKE A FOOT TALL AND WEARING A BLUE BEAR ONESIE???

she doesnt judge u for being a young mother!! I imagine she was too?? Reon is real respectful n I'll be damned if she isnt just as sweet

the coaches are already on your ass about toddler volleyball. they call up a couple friends and have already organized a group for teaching young Young YOUNG kids how to play despite ur son being. 3 months old.

the whole team is Maybe in love with your son

sorry. it's our son now. shiratorizawa owns ur kid :/

when shirabu is holding your boy. the whole team watches as semi get jealous????? over a kid that's NOT his???

hes petty and tells him that hes holding him wrong (hes not)

washijo is obsessed with ur baby. hes so proud of tendou. insisting that ur son being 'the size of a FAT volleyball' is a great sign for his skills in the court

the whole team. is offering money. they know u 2 are JUST out of highschool and with quarentine, are probably pretty low on cash??

BUT !! I 100% hc that tendou draws!! nd hes been doing a shit load of commissions for like. years LOL

n hes always saved that money!! he only spent it on shounen jump, which dont make too much of a dent in the money pile lol

besides he took emergency comms the second you guys found out ab the pregnancy

if you draw/write/do any work from home that's gets you money, then you do that too!!

he forces u to do less work than him tho because hes WORRIED AB U N THE BABY 🥺

but you guys appreciate the offers from your friends!!! Reon and Ushi's mom both volunteer to baby sit when you guys want a date night, thus ur child creating one hell of a friendship between the ex-captain and his vice's mothers 🥺

I'm not gonna go thru ALL the team members reactions

but they're all really happy!! ofc they scold tendou for not using protection and are MAJORLY GROSSED OUT KNOWING THAT THE TWO OF U HAVE INDEED HAD SEX

even tho the fact that satori is a Horny boy should be universal knowledge by now

the team is there for you guys while the baby grows up!! the second the kid can walk ushi is kneeling down and teaching him to spike

tendou is just as bad and insists that his son is a prodigy and should be a pro volleyball player already

LISTEN

TENDOUS SHIRATORIZAWA NUMBER??? HIS JERSEY

U GUYS GET A TINY VERSION OF THAT MADE

EVEN OF HE ISNT DOING VOLLEYBALL ANYMORE THIS MAN IS SO PROUD TO SEE HIS NUMBER ON HIS BOY 🥺🥺🥺👉🏻👈🏻

ur son is a mamas boy n it breaks tendous heart ngl

u make up for it by having a daughter a year or two down the line 😳 n shes OBSESSED with her dad it's cute but also BABY ur 4 please stop sleeping in mommy n daddies bed 🥺🥺🥺

also ur sons first words

oh boy

u can tell that the whole fuckin team has been teaching ur son volleyball stuff

u came home n ur son is sat in the living room SURROUNDED by ur (other) boys

ur (main) boy starts blubbing and bouncing at the sight of his mama 🥺 (or dada/other parent if ur an afab trans person!!!)

you tell off the team for tryna get ur baby into vball when hes barely 6months at this point

but before the boys all leave 🥺🥺 ur son grabs his favourite uncle semi and just goes

'sehtah!!!' (setter)

SEMI BREAKS DOWN CRYIBG LMAOOO

ngl tendou n u r kinda pissed that ur babies first words werent mama or dada. but then u see how happy semi is n u both just 🥺

semi is soft for your son and as the kid grows up hes still attached to him

he cant get away with being a brat though, boys got a whole mfing TEAM of dads/uncles PLUS grampy Washijo are ready to scold this boy

your son (and future daughter) are both SO loved though

theyve always got SOMEONE they know they can depend on

the team loves tendou and they love u, so OFC they ADORE any kids u guys have EVER.

they stay in contact with both of you even if you split up later on, they care enough about you guys that the y/n tendou powercouple is something every new generation of shiratorizawa volleyboys are taught about and introduced to

and YES ANON. WASHIJO DOES INSIST ON YOUR KID(S) GOIN SHIRATORIZAWA

they're guaranteed a spot!! they dont even have to work for it lmfaooo

mostly because coach threatens to leave the school and work with karasuno if they dont confirm them a place

it's an empty threat but it WORKS

the worldwide lockdown of 2020 is something you and tendou remember fondly forever 🥺

even if it was in bad circumstances the two of you made something so positive

this turned into general baby hcs with tendou MY BAD LOL IM IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN AND ALSO CONSTANTLY GOING THRU BABY FEVER

#tendou satori #tendou satori x reader #tendou satori fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #yeah i love kids so much #long post

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spaceysp · 3 years

Note

on a scale of 1-10 which ccs in the dream smp do you think will survive an apocalypse? also pls give reasons as to why, im trying to make a statistics graph for school

OooO! sorry for not getting to this whenever you sent it, but hopefully you’re fine with having it now! ill be going from least to most likely to survive (also fair warning, i dont know alot of these people all too well so in doubt i will be reading their wiki page and im gonna cut out ppl i dont know at all ((also also im gonna be talking about them IRL, not their smp characters because that seems like what ur asking for but i can do another for that if thats what you meant)))

EDIT: I AM AN IDIOT AND DIDNT NOTICE “on a scale of 1-10″ IM SORRYRJSDHKJAESF IMMA ADD THAT

least likely

tommyinnit- okay listen, mans is a child, and from the few live-action vids that ive seen, doesnt seem to be very handy with tools. i couldnt even find that he has any hobbies outside minecraft, so unless he can MLG clutch irl, i dont think he has much going for him 1/10

purpled- basically the same as tommy, idk much about him and i couldnt see that he has any extra hobbies. the apocalypse will not be merciful to minecrafters 2/10

ranboo- see above, he’s higher because of that height and height alone 2/10

niki- i may get some shit for this one, but i think she wouldnt do well because shes too sympathetic, she might try to save those left behind or share, leaving her in more danger than before for the sake of kindness. she also is sensitive to light apparently so thats also a disadvantage 2/10

karl- idk alot about karl either, but im pretty sure he loses, like, every mr beast challenge i think thats like his thing, so even if idk wtf those challenges are, imma say that sets him up for failure in my eyes irl 3/10

quackity- the dude got tired from wii sports. i dont know if he has any irl abilities, so imma have to do him dirty with this one 3/10

fundy- hes a coder, a really good one at that, so while that may help him in the logistics and planning department, i cant say the same for physical ability 3/10

antfrost- idk what hes done irl while being a server admin for years, but hes read warriors, which although may mean he didnt get out much as a kid, it also kinda tells you about herbs and plants?? idk if its accurate but its something 3/10

tubbo- same logic, hes a kid, i think kids are automatically gonna function worse than adults, however, apparently he used to be a trampolinist??? that at least means that he has good stamina and at least a bit of strength, so i think if he didnt let his emotions cloud him he could kick at least a little bit of ass 4/10

eret- he seems to be willing to do almost anything to get things to turn out his way in the smp, but irl he seems very charitable, so idk how that would translate in an apocalypse scenario. hes gonna be about midrange because i cant say what theyd do 4/10

technoblade- im sorry techno but he only plays minecraft and reads literature, i think he might have enough disconnect in order to sacrifice other people’s needs for his own, and i wouldnt put it past him to take what he needs from others, but i cant give him much more than that 4/10

skeppy- you may think ive put him too far up, and yes, this dude somehow managed to run a 20-minute mile. yes, he only has 3 shirts but still has two cars, yes, i dont think hed be able to sacrifice someone else in a pinch. however what everyone is forgetting is that he has connections to the weirdest assortment of people i know, and could probably convince them to help him out. alone? f tier, dead in 3 days. with his car gassed up and knowing where his friends are at? he could last a while i think 4/10

sapnap- he apparently said his worst fear is being alone and losing his friends. which? i mean, i think both of those things would happen in this scenario. he does have jock energy though so hes lower-middle range 4/10

george- geroge is gonna be the complete center on which everyone else is judged. i dont know anything about this man irl. for all i know he could be a gold-medallist weight lifter. he seems to be fairly quick-thinking and independent, so i could see him doing fine maybe 5?/10

wilbur- a wildcard like george except what i do know about him seems way more powerful and also unhinged. everything i learn about him irl scares me i think he could live on being a sneaky little theif bastard 6/10

captain puffy- uhh idk its just her vibe. i think she could do well 6/10

punz- he looks like he could and would kick my ass 7/10

awesamdude- dudes really smart, and 6′7?? he has the reach to knock zombies or whatever TF out 6′7/10

schlatt- he lives in new york, owns at least one glock, and im sure is willing to betray anyone in order to get to the top, i think hed do pretty good 8/10

badboyhalo- okay listen this may be partially favoritism but this is by no means a professional list. he can shoot guns and throw knives and axes, knows how to cook and has beaten up someone at least once. im gonna say his only weaknesses are being a bit forgetful and overly sympathetic, but whatever i think he can get past that 9/10

dream- man, i really didnt wanna give mans the dub here, but i think i have to. 1. its known that all florida men are a different breed, and dream is Peak florida man. hes one of the only ones i could find that ever played an actual sport, and his quick-thinking skills displayed in manhunt is pretty much unmatched. he also shows a hint of cold logic in his actions, doing whatever it takes to gain popularity on youtube in the beginning, and i think that could translate to real life as well. overall, i cant say i was expecting this result, but i think its what i have to do 10/10

most likely

#bRUHH THIS TOOK LIKE AN HOUR ASKJDKASJDKAJSD #i hope this is ok even with a limited set list i barely knew anyone #thank you anon but jesus im in pain #also wtf kinda stats graph you making?? you need to show me when its done

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spookysweet-heart · 4 years

Note

🎃

Of course the song that pops up for you is Your Numbers Up by Ice Nine Kills. Well enjoy what I came up with for this Scream inspired song.

Heading downstairs you walk into the kitchen to grab some snacks. Looking over at the counter you see a note from your parents reminding you to be safe while they're out. Seeing that your mom left your neighbor's number as a just in case emergency call.

Sighing you open the fridge looking over everything. After a few seconds, you decided to just get the bag of chips from the cabinet above.

Right as you closed the fridge you jump when you hear your phone ring. Taking it out of your pocket you look at the number but don't recognize it. Hesitantly you answer the phone thinking it's probably one of those scam calls.

"Hello?"

"Hello there..." The voice on the other end didn't sound too off putting but they did sound a little suspicious.

"Who's this?" You place your phone between your shoulder and ear while you reach for the bag of chips.

"...soon you'll discover..."

Placing the bag on the counter you take your phone into your other hand before answering. "I'm sorry sir? But I think you have the wrong number."

"Wait just a minute, soon you'll be dying to hang on the line..."

Rolling your eyes and opening the bag of chips you sigh feeling a little annoyed. "Listen I don't have time for this."

"If you tell me your name, I'll tell you mine."

"My name? Why would you wanna know that?" Opening up the fridge again you remembered you had a water bottle saved in there.

"You picked up the phone when mom and dad left you alone..."

Dropping the water bottle after hearing that you tried to calm down before relizing the only other person who would know your parents were out besides you and your neighbor was Natemare.

Taking a deep breath in and out you smiled a little relieved. Of course, it was Mare. It's almost October, you should've known hed pull some dumb prank like this. "Alright Natemare you can quit it. I know it's you."

"Natemare? Who's that? Is that your silly little boyfriend?"

"Mare come on this isn't funny. "

"I'm not who you think I am...so why don't you just tell me your name?"

"Why are you asking me that. You obviously know it already."

"....i just wanna know who im looking at...arent you going to pick up that water bottle you dropped?"

"H-how did you-" Hearing a knock at your front door you quickly turn towards it checking if it's locked. "Who's there??"

"....dont you know not to ask those questions." The voice became harsh and a little more threatening.

Carefully making your way to the sink you grab one of the knives you washed earlier. "What....what do you want..."

"Have you not seen this movie?Freddy, Michael, Jason Vorhees...learn from those who came before me..."

Gripping the knife you double check that the back door is locked before you peak out of the living room window. "I'm hanging up the phone...."

"Wrong answer..."

Gritting your teeth you feel your heart beat pick up. "My mom and dad will be home soon....i won't be a pawn in this stupid game your doing...just...just leave me alone!"

Hanging up your phone. You quickly call Natemare. "Please pick up...please pick up."

"(Y/n)? What's up? How's having-"

"Natemare! Thank fuck you picked up listen, you. You didn't just call me on a random number did you??"

"Whoa whoa, first off no I didn't. Second off what is going on you sound you sound like you're in trouble."

"C-can you get over here? Please, I got a gross call from random number and I just....i don't feel safe.."

"Yeah, no of course ill be there. It'll take a bit since I was helping my brother with work but I'll be there as soon as I can. Call me if anything else happens alright?"

"Sure, I- I will... Thanks Mare..."

"Of course! See ya soon."

"Yeah... See you..." Ending the call you feel a little relieved again. That is until you hear the doorbell ring and a pounding at your back door.

Gripping the knife again you stand in the middle of your living room looking between both doors. Jumping at the sound of your phone ringing again,you see it's the same number as before. "What do you want?!"

"Hang up on me again and I'll gut you on your kitchen floor you got it?!....that being said....i kinda wanna know what your insides look like now..."

Your face grows pale at the stranger's words. "H-how are you this evil...who the fuck are you?! Answer me!"

"Acting tough...thats cute. Just remember our movie is nearly finished. Sadly for you there won't be a sequel."

Hearing one of the kitchen windows break you run upstairs only to glance back and see someone dressed in all black, their face is covered with a mask. Quickly running into your room you hide in the closet.

Leaning your back against the wall the fear isn't making you register that the blade of the knife it slicing your palm. Your phone vibrates with a text from Mare saying he's close by.

Closing your eyes tears start to fall as you start to feel a little hope again.

The door to the room opens, you're able to see the silhouette of the person walk around before it stops by your bed. "You know...when the cops find the phone...they're going to see calls going to be listed as unknown...its the end of the line for you...all there's left is a dial tone."

Noticing the figure moving, you look down at your hand seeing it bleed. Biting your lower lip you slowly remove your hand from the blade and carefully place it back on the handle. Your breathing stops for a second when you look down to see the figure standing on the other side of the door.

"You know...im only doing this because having a knife in you brings out the life in me...you'll be the last scene in a slashers dream..."

You scream as the person opens the closet but you quickly dodge the swing of his knife only getting away with a slash to your arm. Making your out of the room you run back towards the stairs. Without warning you accidentally trip near the bottom of the stairs and look up seeing the figure at the top. "Just let me go! Please!"

"Why should I? The scenes almost over....the credits are going to roll any second. Your fifteen seconds of fame are up." The figure jumps down standing above you as they kick the knife out of your hand. "Time to say goodbye..." Raising their knife they plunge into your shoulder as you grab their hands trying to pull them away from you.

Screaming out in pain you hear Natemare pounding at the front door. "(Y/N)!!!! (Y/N)!!!! What's going on?! Open the door!"

Gasping you gather the strength you have left and push off the masked person shoving them to the wall and successfully hitting their head against it. "Natemare! I can't....i can't get up. Help me!!!"

Looking at the person and back at your ankle you notice it's starting to bruise. You try to relax as you pull the knife out of your shoulder. "Fuck..."

Natemare does his best to break down the door but he stands there for a second trying to process what's in front of him.

"Mare! Don't just stand there! Help me before they wake up!"

Snapping out of it Mare quickly carries you outside and double-checks if you're any more injured than you look.

"I'm...im fine now...just...make sure they don't get away."

"Alright...I'll be back..." After he makes his way inside you lean your head against the wall as your vision goes dark.

For you it felt like seconds but when you wake up in a hospital bed and look around seeing Natemare by your side you knew it had been while.

"You're up! Thank God! How are you feeling?" He grabs your hand and looks down at you concerned.

"Thirsty...but okay..what happened after..."

"After I went inside?"

Nodding you gladly take the cup of water he offers.

"I was able to tie them up and keep them there while we waited for the cops...i don't know who it was...but I asked your parents if it would be alright for you to stay with me and brothers till everything settles down. We'll help you get whatever you need."

"I-thank you...coming in time...i don't really wanna think about what would've happened if you hadn't..."

"Don't say things like that. You're safe now okay? Things will be okay from now on. I got you (Y/n)."

#marioseamoose #ask box #natemare #battle ego #battle egos #battle boys #youtuber egos #ice nine kills #slasher #scream

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kpurereactions · 4 years

Note

Hey, sweetie! If you have time can I ask for Seventeen reaction when they would during an argument accidentally curse at their s/o for the first time and making them cry? If not it's still okay! Thank you so much for your time and hard work! I really cant stop reading your posts❤

He had been distant lately. It was obviously stress causing the distance but you couldn't help that he was taking it out on you. It wasn't fair. This was the fourth time he was supposed to meet you for dinner, and the fourth time you were left looking like an idiot at a cooling grill. You had enough. You never would ask him to choose between you and his career, but he could at least throw you a bone. If he knew he wasn't going to show up why would he tell you he would and then go home to eat with his members? If he was so tired why couldn't he sleep at your place? His manager knew about you and supported the relationship so its not like he would be going out of his way.

You were slightly drunk on your walk home. The first hand embarrassment of the owner telling you that maybe next time he’ll show was enough reason to drink just enough. It was cold out, and as you buried your face deeper into your scarf your drunkin mind told you to call him. And keep calling until he picked up.

When he finally answered on the... 3rd, you were counting on your fingers, he sounded annoyed. As if missing dinner again was your fault. “Where were you?” You asked strongly. “Are you drunk?” “Where were you.” You asked again. “Look I got hung up I’m sorry i didn't call.” H said, breathing heavily through his nostrils. “Ah, well thank god your sorry for standing me up once again. Are you serious?” You rose your voice. “Look, y/n, I’m sorry but the world doesn't revolve around you. I cant just stop what I’m doing to run to your beck and call.” He said, his voice matching yours. “And what exactly was it you were doing? Going to dinner with your members?” You said, noting the background commotion. “And so what if I am.” You stopped in your tracks. Across the street you saw him. Sitting between two of the members, beer and empty plates scattering the table. He didn't even have the audacity to excuse himself. Your silence caused him to check his screen to see if you were still there before sighing deeply and brining it back to his ear. He was about to say something else, but just as his mouth opened he saw you standing across the street.

You watched as he placed the phone on the table and brought his elbows up to pinch the bridge of his nose. You were shocked. All the empty plates meant they were there for a long time. Probably much longer than you were down the street. And he was so close. You watched as he hung the phone up and grabbed his coat, telling those around him he would be right back before hurrying towards the door, all eyes now spotting you.

You began to walk, suddenly not wanting to speak to him but you knew he would catch up. You heard him call your name over and over

If he doesn't stop he still loves me. If he gives up, he’s stopped. You thought to yourself.

A hand caught your elbow and you staggered back, your cheeks bright red from the cold and your eyes already threatening to spill.

“Where are you going, why did you walk away.” He said. His eyes seemed sorry.

“You were busy. I didn't want to bother you.” You snapped, trying to walk away again only to be caught by his arm.

“Look, Y/n, I’m sorry, I really am.” He tried, still holding onto you so you couldn't walk away.

“So sorry you ate an entire meal while I waited for you, thanks for the consideration.” You tried to walk away again already knowing his hand would stop you

“You know how the guys are.”

“No! I don’t! Do you want to know why? Because you never have me around. You keep me hidden. You make us meet in secret places. Hell, they probably don’t even know I exist! Im not asking to be the center of your world I never asked that. But leading me on. Standing me up. How dare you. Its obvious you don’t care at all about me. And your proving you never did.”

“Fuck you.” He spit. Your eyes widened, but he continued. “Fuck you if you don’t think I care. Fuck you for not understanding what it is I do. Fuck you for making such a big deal about something you should expect from dating someone like me.”

“Someone like you? I DON’T KNOW WHO YOU ARE.” You said, the tears that had been threatening since before finally rolling over your waterline. You thought for a second about saying something else, but everything you needed to say was said and he wasn't listening. So you jerked your arm out of his grasp, stumbling a bit, and turned your back.

Seungcheol:

His hands would reach for his hair. Tears in his own eyes everything he did wrong seemed to catch up with him at once. He’d turn away from you before turning back to see you had already left. He didn't want to actually loose you. “Fuck” He’d say under his breath, instantly breaking into a jog to catch you. He wouldn't say anything, Just wrap his arms around your body as his collided with yours. You were crying, and hard by the way he felt your shoulders shake. He buried his face in your hair and just held you for as long as you let him. “You better say something right now Seungcheol.” You threatened. He could feel your body tensing, ready to break out of his grip. With his hands moving to your shoulders he turned you to face him. He watched as your eyes softened and you hand reached up to wipe a way what he realized was his own tear. His heart broke when your hand stopped and retracted. He caught it softly, bringing it to his cheek, kissing the back of your hand softly before sniffling. “Im so sorry.” It was all he could think to say, but he could see in your eyes that you understood this time it was different.

Jeonghan:

He was so angry and if you wanted to act like, so be it. He watched you walk, your steps stumbling as you tried to exit as quickly as possible. He didn't want to follow you. He didn't want to deal with your nagging anymore. But something told him he should. He stood there and watched your figure grow smaller with distance before breaking into a sprint. He didn't know what he would say when he got there but he needed to get there. Hed run as fast as he could, the sounds of his name being called from behind him from his manager caused you to turn and before he knew it he was wrapping you in a hug. Hed just hold you. He didn't even care that you were holding back back from him, he just needed you to know he was sorry. Hed hold you for what seemed like forever before softly whispering “im sorry.” and finally relaxing when your arms moved around him.

Joshua:

He would just leave, blaming you for ruining his night. It wouldn't be until he returned home and he had a moment to really reflect on what had happened did he realize he was truly the one in the wrong. Hed tried texting you. He tried calling and with the lack of response he began to worry that he let you get hurt by watching you walk away drunk. He didn't care what time it was. He shuffled into his managers room while putting on his coat “I need to go to Y/n” Seeing what had happened he agreed, getting up stiffly before taking him to the car. Josh ran into your building and up to your apartment, only stopping to stand impatiently in the elevator. Hed enter your apartment without knocking and wouldn't breath until he saw you standing in his shirt, the only light being from your fridge as you poured yourself water. He wasnt going to hold back any longer, and without a word took just a few long strides to pull you into a deep, im so sorry kiss.

Jun:

You wouldn't get too far. before you could even turn your back he had you back in his grasp, realizing instantly how terrible and untrue his words were. Hed quickly take them back. Explaining to you that he knew he was being unfair. He didn't know why but you were just an easy target for him to let out all his pent up frustration on and he quickly realized how much he hated himself for doing that to you. Hed gently brush your tears away, and after his apology he would pull you into his chest tightly, holding you as the sobs took over your whole body. He wouldn't try to apologize anymore. There was no reason to. He was wrong and he needed to make up for it.

Hoshi:

He was trying so hard to convince himself that he was right. He had to be. He wasn't a bad person and he didn't purposefully ever hurt people. But the longer he stared at the pavement the quicker he realized he was wrong. He brought his hands up to rub his eyes, ready to face you again, but you were gone. A figure in the distance. You must really want nothing to do with him. He hung his head and sighed. He blew it. Returning back to the table he sat quietly while everyone else finished, happy no one asked him why he suddenly left. as the days to follow came he grew more and more distracted. He couldnt focus on anything else but you and it was effecting his work. He eventually was pulled aside and told to just go see you, so he listened.

Seeing you as you opened the door brought tears to his eyes. He was full of regret and had no words to express the way he had been treating you. So when you opened the door more and pulled him inside and into a hug hed melt into you, asking for your forgiveness.

Wonwoo:

He didn't know why, but as the words were coming out of his mouth he felt like you would stand there and take it, which would give him a chance to fix it. His face would fall as he realized your tears weren't ones of anger, but of a broken heart and he’d retreat. He had no idea how to fix it. He’d stand there as you walked away lost in thought. For the first time he really thought about what it was he wanted from you. What he wanted out of your relationship and what made him ask you to be his in the first place. He realized just how much you actually had done for him, and how much all he did was really only ever complain to you. You gave him advice. You helped him remain calm in situations where he felt like his head would explode.

He’d be so lost. He wouldn't know what to do to fix the situation, or even if he could, so he’d wait. He’d wait days, constantly checking his phone in false hope that every ding would be you. But it never was. He was too embarrassed to call you. You were right and admitting he was wrong to your face was something he struggled to figure out what to do. You would move on. You would find someone else and being with Wonwoo would just be a distant memory, but to him you would be something he thought about every day.

Woozi:

He wasn't done. The moment you started to walk away he’d force you to stop. But upon grabbing your hand to spin you around he saw something he thought he’d never see. You crying. All anger would flood out of him as he lifted a hand to brush your hair back slightly, pouting when you avoided his hand. His head would hang, and the next time the two of you made eye contact you could see something switched. “Let me walk you home.” He said, taking your hand in his. HIs mind would be full of what to say but nothing would come out. He would take you home, Making sure you had plenty of water and were in warm comfy clothes before he left. Still, without saying anything. You wouldn't hear from him in a few days. But you didn't feel angry at all, only sadness. Then one day, you'd be listening to a local radio. The mc would announce a song from an artist you didn't recognize at first, a song called im sorry, and your fingers would be calling Woozi before you really even had time to think about what it was you were doing.

Dokeyom:

His hand would come up to squeeze the bridge of his nose as you began to walk away. He wasn't done talking to you, but seeing as he just exploded he figured the best thing to do was let the both of you cool off. The next day, as soon as he knew you would be away he’d send you a text, asking to come over to talk. You don’t know why you said yes, your roommate told you there was no reason to give him a second chance but you hit send and went back to what you were doing. He’d sit on the edge of your bed once he got there, his hands folded in his lap as you stood over. He’d explain himself, and explain himself well. He’d tell you he didn't mean to snap at you, and that you were right about him neglecting you. He would explain his fears. He was scared of loosing you, so before you could walk away he pushed you towards that. Maybe it wouldn't hurt as much then. He avoided all eye contact with you while he talked, afraid that if he looked at you he would burst into tears on the spot. He was shocked, to say the least when you stepped between his legs and wrapped your arms around your head, but he didn't hold back for one second and quickly wrapped his arms around you.

Mingyu:

Hed see one tear roll as you turned away and turned away himself. He wasnt ready- nor did he want to leave you. But knowing that he had pushed you into tears was too much for him to handle. Hed walk back to the restaurant, knowing that everyone saw him scream at you and hung his head. He sat there receiving criticism, the boys telling him that you were right and he was being an asshole for the way he walked away from you. The Woozi said something that clouded his head. “Were you embarrassed of her? Is that why you walked away?” The answer was no. There was no part of you he was embarrassed of. When Hoshi suggested he went and found you he was out of his seat before Hoshi had even finished speaking.

He ran through the rout you would have taken to get back to your apartment frantically, poking his head into different bars and convenient stores just in case. Until he saw you leaving a store with a bag, your head still hung low. He wouldnt say anything, just run up and wrap his arms around you, burying his nose against your neck. “Im sorry. Im so sorry, seriously.”

Minghao:

Hed watch you walk away, his eyes moving to look at the dark sky before stomping his foot. “Y/n, wait.” hed call, taking a deep breath when you stopped. Hed wait for you to turn around, making sure that you really did want to still talk to him. When you did hed walk up and pull one of his hands from his pocket to take yours. Hed lead you to the side of the sidewalk where there was a ledge long enough for you to sit on and hed kneel in front of you. Hed watch your eyes as you tried your hardest to hold back the tears that were flowing freely.

Hed explain himself more calmly this time, chuckling when he finished because he realized just how truly idiotic his reason sounded. Hed apologize again, asking you to let him at least walk you home, telling you once he knew you were safe and warm you could make the decision to call him the next day or not. But he would be waiting for that phone call.

Seungkwan:

His hand would immediately cover his mouth. He sounded foreign, even to himself. He didn't mean any of the words that came out of his mouth so why he said them he had no idea. Hed catch you before you could get to far and beg for you to let him try again. Hed have no shame, there was no room for it when he just said the worst thing he could possibly think of saying to someone he loved. Hed force you to stop walking by wrapping his arms around you and hugging you tightly. Hed continue his apology, not even caring if you accepted anymore. He just wanted you to know how sorry he was. Hed stand there with you in his arms for as long as you let him, and even when you pulled away he kept a hand on you to make sure you couldn't run away. He’d know you wouldnt be able to forgive him right away, becasue he wouldnt be able to forgive himself, but he would spend the time after working harder than ever to make it up to you.

Vernon:

Hed stand there watching you walk away until your figure disappeared into the darkness, the image of you crying burnt into the backs of his eyelids. Hed just stand there, and keep standing there until someone came out to get him, telling him it was time to do. Hed take one last glance, maybe hoping you would be walking back but would sigh when he realized you weren't, and probably never will. Hed try his hardest to pretend like nothing was wrong, but your absence in his life was weighing heavy on his shoulders. Hed think he was doing the right thing by staying away, but the sudden incline in his attitude had the other members worried about it. They would eventually be able to convince him to just call you. Hearing your voice when you finally picked up would make him sniffle, and all he could say was he missed you.

Dino:

He did not get what it was he did wrong, Even after you stormed away hed rack his brain to try to figure out why exactly you were so mad. The moment he got back to his apartment he would sit there and complain, telling two of the members what had happened and why you were so mad. Once the initial shock of finding out about you wore off, Jeonghan would hit him up against the head and lay out exactly what it was he did wrong. Hearing it from him finally would make it sink in, and his head would fall into his hands. “Do you still want to be with her?” Hed ask, looking at Dino in a way where not answering wasnt an option. When he finally nodded his head Jeonghan and Wonwoo would help Dino try to find the perfect way to get you to forgive him.

Kitty

#seventeen #seventeen reaction #svt

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the-gay-cryptid · 4 years

Text

Okay, I'm super pissed right now and I dont want to bother my friends with this, theyve got shit of their own, I just need to get the angry out of my system.

I want to shave my head. I want to because it would give me a feeling of control and it's the much safer, less permanent, and less painful of my three options: shave head, get piercing, get tattoo. Since whatever I picked would be self done, I naturally went with shaving my head.

I'm no fucking idiot though, I've done my research. I know that, because of my hair type and my own preferences, I dont want it too short. I would first get a #8 attachment, which it the longest you can get. That's what I would use. I looked up a video of someone comparing the lengths of each attachment when actually used on hair, so I have a better idea of what it would actually look like since I'm not good at visualizing lengths.

I was going to tell my mom all this, show her that this isnt a sudden decision, and that I've actually done research and know what to do/expect. It was still entirely possible she'd say no, but this approach was my best chance to convince her.

I told me dad this morning, "I want to shave my head. I think I'd have to order attachments since your clippers are too short, but its definitely doable." I said it this way because I've never had to prove to my dad that I know what I'm doing, like I'm writing a damn research paper.

He wasnt a fan, because he thinks I'll look like a man. He doesnt want me to look too masculine. That's a problem to revisit at a later time. I pointed out that I already look like a boy when I wear hats, my hair grows out fast, and that how he wants me to look isnt my problem. He conceded to all three points, though he still wasnt a fan. He wouldnt stop me, but we both knew I had to convince mom before I even picked up the clippers.

Mom came in, and we said good morning and so on. Then Dad says "she wants to shave her head." Which was the absolute worst possible way to introduce that to my mother.

To her credit, she handled it well. She said she didnt think it would suit my head shape, but if I wanted to I couldn't but if I did it she wasnt going to pay for my hair appointments anymore, even if I grew my hair out again. I wouldnt really mind paying for my own cuts and colors, it's just that it's kinda expensive and I have 10$ and no income until August assuming we're back on campus next semester. I figured I'd think about it.

I took a shower, did makeup, and finished making some earrings I started last night. Then I went to show my parents, because i was proud and I thought they looked cool.

Dad loved them, mom definitely thought they were tacky, but I'm used to that and she's given up trying to convince me that tacky jewelry is bad.

She was making a face that screamed "not a fan", and I asked her why she was making said face. I expected a comment about how people would judge me, and I was totally emotionally prepared for that and ready to let it roll off. But instead, she says

"This doesn't seem like a good use of your time. I just dont feel like enough work is getting done"

I dont know if any of you know this about me, but I'm very sensitive about my work ethic. I've had problems in the past, but I've worked fucking hard to learn the self discipline and time management I have today. It's not perfect, but I'm better than I was. So when people imply that I'm not doing enough, or I'm lazy, or that I'm wasting my time instead of working, I take it a little harder than most.

I didnt linger, because it wouldnt help anyone. I just left and waited in the kitchen to vent to my dad.

"I just wanted to show her something cool." I said. I kept my voice low, because mom has a habit of walking in when I'm venting about her and then getting overly offended and turning it into me being disrespectful. "And she just ignored it-" at which point my dad cut me off. He doesnt like when I complain about mom. He doesnt like the confrontation that occurs if she over hears, and he doesnt like seeing her upset that her kid is implying shes a bad mom. She isnt, but she's not perfect, and as a grown ass woman who lectures me about the same flaw, she should be able to take criticism.

I'm still a bit pissed, so I just grabbed my laptop and went upstairs to do schoolwork. I dont have much to do, since, contrary to my mother's suggestion, I'm very on top of my work, and even ahead on some of it.

Just now, I went down stairs to take a break and grab my house shoes. I talked to my dad a little bit about some netflix shows. Then, because I thought maybe I could sway him a little, I showed him the video of someone comparing all the attachments and how short they actually cut.

I also pointed out that mom wouldve reacted better if hed let me explain what I wanted. He disagreed, so I told him how I'd present the idea:

"I have something I want to do, and I've done a lot of research, so I understand what to do, what I'd need, and how to do it the way I have in mind. I'd like to shave my head, not super short though. I'd use the longest attachment..." et cetera, et cetera.

Basically I'd just prove to her this wasnt decided on a whim. And then I'd ask her opinion. She'd hate it, but at least she'd probably consider it. Even Dad admitted it might have worked.

I started telling him why I wanted to do it, the whole needing to feel in control thing. But he was putting away clothes and heading his and Moms room, and if mom heard me talking through all this she'd get mad and double down on the "fuck no" stance. So I dropped it for now.

But then my dad thought hed be real fucking funny. I was standing in the bathroom with him, and he turned on his clippers and started to reach for my hair. I grabbed his arm to stop him. I knew he was joking, it was just my knee jerk reaction since his clippers have NO attachment and would actually buzz my head completely.

He then said, very smugly, that that's the reaction of someone who doesn't actually want to shave their head. I told him that wasnt funny, and started to explain that I stopped him because it wouldve been the wrong length.

But mom, being in the bedroom right fucking next to us, got PISSED. She then informed us, mainly me, that I wasnt allowed to shave my head, and that she'd be so furious if I did it. And now i was mad with both of my parents.

Since I couldnt be delicate about it anymore, I told her point blank the whole conversation this morning wouldve gone better if dad hadnt said anything, and that I was going to actually explain myself before telling her I wanted to shave my head.

She listened to my whole explanation. I'll give her that. But when I finished, she just hummed and went back to her work. Which is mom for "fuck no, and this is a stupid idea."

As all conversations with my mother inevitably go, I went to the kitchen to talk to dad. I told him he shouldnt have done any of that, and that now, because of him goofing off, mom wasnt taking anything of said seriously.

He told me he was sorry he did that, but that he didn't want me to do it anyway. I reminded him, in far less polite terms than usual, that I dont care what he thinks and that it's my hair and my choice.

He agreed and apologized again, still just as insincere.

Since I didnt have the patience or calmness to try and talk about it further, I went back upstairs. I heard him calling me a little bit ago, probably to talk again, but I'm still fucking angry.

Because of him not only taking away my ability to bring this up with my mom on my own terms, and then ruining any chances of her taking me seriously, theres no way in hell I'm going to be able to do what I wanted. I know shaving my head isnt that big of a deal, but the amount of bullshit its brought out of them both is infuriating.

If he'd just kept his fucking mouth shut this morning, all this could've gone so much better.

#im just mad #and i dont want to bother my froends #and i cant vent to my parents for obvious reasons #and my brother's at work #so its all fucking pent up with nowhere to go #so im putting it here #my post #ranting #venting

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angrylizardjacket · 6 years

Text

and then there was light [3] {Roger Taylor}

Anon asked: Prompt: angst Roger and y/n because he’s jealous after a party

A/N: 5981 words!! What?! Like, it’s not explicit, but I might have given the reader a slight praise kink. Some sexual content. There is mentions of cheating, just to let you know if that makes you uncomfortable. There might be a problem with pacing but like... suspend your disbelief. Also.... you’ve got a big storm coming.

[part 1] [part 2]

Your grip is white-knuckled on the armrest as you felt the plane rumble beneath you; anxiety is clutching at your chest as the world falls away beneath the wings of the machine and you’re rising into the sky. Roger isn’t outright laughing from where he’s sitting next to you, but it looks like he wants to. Thankfully, for his sake, he contains himself, resting a hand on your thigh, rubbing it in a gentle, comforting rhythm.

“You’ll be fine, love, these things hardly ever crash, and if this one does, it’ll make the news, probably.” He shrugged, and you glared at him, trying to push down the anxiety curling in your stomach.

“You’re the single least reassuring person I’ve ever met.” You snapped, but he just grinned wider, his hand moving higher on your thigh, your legs part just a little, out of instinct, and you’re too anxious about the flight to even blush at it.

“I could distract you instead.” He offers, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. Something eases in your chest and you relax your grip on the armrest to put your hand on his. “Love?” He asks, watching how you’re leaning your head back against the headrest, eyes closed, like you were trying to go to your happy place, wishing you weren’t trapped inside this plane. His hand twitches to move away when he doesn’t get a response, but then your own hand is guiding his a little further up, and you’re wearing a little, playful smile, though it’s strained. Roger has to bite back a laugh.

“Could you please wait until the seat belt sign is off?” John’s voice interrupts both of you, pressing his face into the space between your headrests where he’s sitting behind you, sounding characteristically exasperated.

“Or wait until we land, like any decent human being.” You can hear Brian’s sigh from where he’s sitting beside John, his words followed by a world-weary sigh.

“You were both cuter when you thought we didn’t know.” Freddie says, matter-of-factly, and Paul hums in agreement, the two of them sitting in the two seats in front of you.

“So were you.” Roger snaps back, leaning back into his chair, sullen at the sudden onslaught of bullying from his band-mates. “And get your bloody face away from mine.” He smacks John’s forehead with his free hand, which has the man retreating, but you’re silently thankful. Despite this, you’re also flushing with embarrassment, which is only quelled when Roger flips his hand over on your thigh to lace his fingers with yours, giving your hand a comforting squeeze.

It’s weird, to be in public, well, sort of public, and to be allowed to actually be with Roger. You’ve always been so hyper aware of his image, careful to keep your distance where prying eyes might be lurking, the last-performance kiss notwithstanding, but here, in the relative safety of first class - and god, that was a mind-boggling realisation - he’d wrapped his arm around you. Once the seat-belt sign has been turned off and the in-flight movie has started, he pulls you into his lap on the luxuriously spacious seat. Everyone on the flight has headphones to listen along to the movie, and the plane is almost silent as everyone looks to the overhead screens. It starts innocently enough, except sitting on Roger isn’t exactly comfortable; he’s got one hand resting on your thigh, innocent enough, and the other on the armrest, but you find yourself shifting every few minutes trying to get comfortable, but it isn’t really working.

“Are you right there?” Roger moves your headphones off of one of your ears, speaking low and quiet, only to you. When you look at him, he’s not even looking you in the eyes, he’s looking at your lips, and you feel your chest tighten, though in a very different way to the plane taking off earlier.

“What?” And you shift again, trying in vain to get more comfortable before you feel him hard and pressing against your ass through his pants, and it dawns on you. After a moment, you lock eyes with him, finally, and wiggle again, deliberate, suppressing a smile. He leans in to kiss you, rough, insistent, his hand on your thigh moving dangerously higher.

“Let’s not ruin everyone’s movie,” he breathes as he pulls back, his hand moving to give your ass a light tap, and you take the hint, taking off your headphones and making a beeline for the bathroom. You find yourself waiting for almost five minutes in the stall before there’s a knock at the door and Roger’s whispering your name. You haven’t even fully locked the door before he’s pulling off your shirt, murmuring about how you both had to be quiet, though he was grinning in that way that made you melt, and made you want to be anything but quiet.

When you head back to your seats none of the others comment on it, though they do seem pretty enraptured with the movie. Your anxiety at flying had dissolved; you’re feeling all warm and syrupy in the afterglow, and Roger clicks down the armrest that separates your two seats, and shifts so that you he can still wrap his arm around you, but you’re sitting next to him, your legs stretched out and arching over his. He puts his own headphones back on, smile supremely satisfied, and you give yourself a little, mental pat on the back, but don’t bother with your own headphones, resting your head on his shoulder and falling asleep, feeling secure and safe with his arm around you.

When you land, you find yourself whisked almost directly to the new tour bus, and you suddenly find yourself filled with a new uncertainty. The space, at least compared to what you were used to, was lavish, not a single road case in sight.

“You guys live like this?” You crowed, eyes wide as you raced through the spacious vehicle, plopping yourself down on the cushioned bench beneath the back window while the rest of the band, and the crew travelling in this bus started getting settled in.

“Well yeah, was the other bus really that different?” Roger asks, joining you, sprawling himself out across the seat. The sheer absurdity of his question takes a moment to sink in, but after that you’re laughing, loud and a little bit uncontrollable, mind alight with memories of hot, bump afternoons riding along at the back of the equipment bus, sat atop a road case, holding a light and gels and trying not to touch the drum kit where it was stacked up beside you.

“God, I would have killed for a cushion.” You breathe, wistful, relaxing further, if it were possible, into the seats. After a beat, you look around at where everyone’s gone quiet; Freddie and John were setting up a board game and Brian was lounging on one of the sofas running along the inside of the bus; you’re pretty sure Roger’s the only one who hears you anyways. “I much prefer it to flying though,” you admit, shifting until you can rest your head on Roger’s shoulder.

“Really?” He asked, voice quiet enough that only you could hear it. “I thought it was a pretty decent flight.” And he reaches up to pinch at your side playfully when the bus starts up. The two of you dissolve into play-fighting, which the others don’t pay much attention to, entertaining themselves as the trip to the first destination began.

“You’re- you- they call you Spotlight, don’t they?” The voice that greets you before for the first crew meeting is bright, eager, faintly accented, and when you turn, you see it belongs to a sweet looking boy with big, brown eyes, clutching at a clipboard. Laughing a little awkwardly, you nod, and his whole face brightens at the confirmation. “I’m Robbie; I’m stage managing, and they’ve got me operating the lights.” He sounds so damn excited, it’s a little endearing, and after a beat, he’s peppering you with questions about the American leg of the tour, which you answer with ease.

You’d been worried, not that you’d ever admit it, integrating into a whole new crew; the American tour was staffed with people you’d been working with for years, and here, everything and everyone was new to you. Seeing Robbie smile, so kind and welcoming, it felt like you could breathe.

“How the crew?” Roger asks, and he’s stuck with fond deja vu, sitting behind his drums, watching you cut a whole new set of gels. You’re humming something he can’t quite pick, but you seem happy enough.

“Yeah good,” you concede, only half paying attention as you work, “they’re nice, very welcoming.” You tell him, and he makes his way to you, sitting beside you on the drum risers, picking up some scraps of the gel. After a moment, your hands still, and you watch his, smiling with confusion, before looking at him. “What-” but he’s looking back at you, and he leans in to kiss you once you look up. Putting the gel and the scissors down, you take his face in his hands, giving him an endearing smile.

“I’m working.” You said softly, but he just grinned, leaning in to kiss you again. It’s fun and easy to be with Roger at times like this, times when neither of you had to worry about what other people thought, or who saw you together; you were happy and so was he, and that’s what mattered.

It gets a bit harder, you realise, when in Glasgow you’re leaving the hotel with the band and a few paparazzi come after you; at first they’re shouting at the band but then they spot you where you’re by Roger’s side, trying to keep your face hidden. You see your picture in some gossip rag the next day when Robbie gives it to you with a long suffering and apologetic look.

“The boss wants you to be more careful about being seen.” He’s rolling his eyes at the boss’s words, however, when you ask him what he means, you learn that you’d been photographed with them in America, and people were starting to speculate that you might be part of the tour group. The Boss thinks it reflects poorly. The rest of the band is in the photo, but you’re the one being accused of being a world-travelling gold digger in the article.

When you tell Roger, or more specifically show him the article and make an offhand comment about not really being seen with the band in public anymore, he throws the magazine across the hotel room, scowling.

“They’re printing lies, Spotlight, what do you care?” He asks. You’re gentle when you step towards him, resting your hands on his shoulders.

“I care about my career and my reputation, Roger, you understand, right?” Voice soft, you don’t move until he looks at you, expression a little hurt. “I know I’m not a gold digger, but if I want to get anywhere in life, I need other people to believe that too.” You explained, and he didn’t exactly seem happy about it.

“You’re fantastic at your job, babe, isn’t that enough?” He asked, and you felt yourself flush, suppressing a grin at the praise.

“I wish it was.” You told him, voice a little forlorn, and he leaned in to kiss you, a silent agreement to your request. After a moment you pulled back, actually letting yourself grin. “You think I’m good at my job?” You asked, giggling, and Roger’s expression brightened as he huffed out a laugh.

“You know I do.” And it’s the most gentle you think you’ve ever heard him, the sweet sincerity shifts as his hands come up to rest on your hips. He knows all too well the effect he has on you when he compliments your work. “How many times do I have to tell you?” He asks, a single eyebrow raised, teasing edge to his tone.

“I mean, if you told me too much I think we both know I’d never get anything done.” And your fingers are nimbly undoing his fly. With a cheeky grin, he kisses you again, rougher, biting at your bottom lip before you pull away.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He muses, watching the way you wet your lips, smiling at him. “You’re very good at other things too, love.”

“I know.” You watch him through your lashes, biting your lip to keep from laughing as his whole face lights up and he’s snorting out a laugh at your response, and you fall to your knees, already pulling down the waistband of his jeans.

He doesn’t like that you insist on leaving the hotel at different times, becomes a little clingy in the mornings when you go to get up, but he always manages to tug you back down to him, and you get lost in the way he smiles in the early morning sunlight, the feel of his lips on yours, the way he laughs softly against your skin.

Despite this, he keeps his distance around other people. The band he doesn’t worry about, but he stays up by his drums during lunch, and sometimes during the after parties you attend, he’ll disappear for a few hours at a time, and you find him at the bar, reasonably hammered, surrounded by fans fawning over him. He always goes home with you though, so you try not to feel too jealous.

“Hey, Light? I’m getting lunch, do you want anything?” Things start going downhill the day Robbie pops his head in during your lunch break; you’re at the top of a ladder, fiddling with the angle of a parcan, and Roger’s at his drums.

“No thanks.” You call back, chipper, shooting the ASM a smile, and when he leaves, Roger frowns at you.

“Did he give your nickname a nickname?” He punctuates it with a laugh, but it sounds more angry than anything else.

“That’s Robbie,” your explanation does not seem to placate him. You’d been spending a lot of time with Robbie, the two of you bonding over both having worked on Bowie’s last tour. “He’s German.” You add, as if the fun fact might warm Roger to him.

“I know how to pick accents.” He snapped back at you, and you actually stopped your work to look at him, a little shocked and defensive at his tone. He’s not looking at you, he’s gone back to watching the door.

“He’s the ASM, Rog, chill out, we work together.” You tell him. He doesn’t respond, and all you can do is go back to your work, a squirming discomfort making itself known in your chest.

He disappears after the show that night, not coming to find you after bump out like he usually would, and you try to assume the best; that he’s too high from adrenaline and the endorphins of such a good show that he’d wanted to ride the hype the rest of the band. It wasn’t deliberate, you told yourself.

“You going to the after party?” Robbie asks carefully, hands in his pockets, still wearing his own theatre blacks. You realise you must look a little lost, and when you decide that you are, you tell him, and he offers to walk with him. He’s sweet, excitedly gushing about how he can’t wait for the Munich show so he could see his girlfriend, and you find yourself enthusing about how exciting it is to be travelling around Europe. Once you step foot in the pub, the two of you part ways, Robbie heading for the bar, and you seeking your own boyfriend.

His whole face lights up when he sees you, and the anxiety that had been building in your chest dissipates when he wraps his arms around you, spinning you around.

“I’m sorry, I got caught up.” He told you, but he doesn’t kiss you, just pulls you down to the sofa with him where Freddie’s in the middle of an animated discussion with Brian.

It happens again at the next stop, he leaves you behind and you make your way to the after party talking with Robbie. He’s kind, sweet, looking forward to marrying his high school sweetheart. If you’re being honest, it’s nice to have someone to talk to who understands your side of touring, being another interchangeable face to the talent you’re helping, someone down to earth and . He gushes about how jealous he is of your friendship with the band, starry eyed in the cool night air.

Again, when you arrive at the venue, Roger’s already there, and he doesn’t get up this time, just beckons you to him with a bright smile. It doesn’t ease your discomfort like you hoped his smile would.

“Are you mad at me?” You ask gently one night; the two of you were walking in relative silence, side by side, not touching for fear of paparazzi, you try to justify.

“No, why?” He asked, and you look at him, eyes narrowed as you examine him, and his smile is a little far away when he looks back at you. After a long moment of silence, he takes your hand, pulling you both to a stop, facing each other. He wraps his arms around you, still giving you that far away smile, and he kisses you. “I’m sorry I keep leaving you behind, love.”

“So you’re not mad at me?” You confirm, stepping back and taking his hand, continuing to walk.

“Of course not; should I be?” And the way he says it, so perfectly fucking harmless, has the hairs on the back of your neck standing up.

“No!” You defend, and he’s laughing easily in the moonlight.

It keeps happening, sporadically, and it always seems to coincide with whenever he sees you and Robbie together, or Robbie comes in to offer to get you lunch, and you know what’s happening before you dare to admit it.

On some of the nights where you opt to go straight back to the hotel, you’re woken by him flopping into bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to him, warm and protective, at odds with the discomfort in your chest.

“Missed you.” He yawns, smelling of alcohol and cigarettes, and one time, of faint, fruity perfume that you don’t recognise. When you ask him, he says that someone spilled a cocktail on him, and you realise you can’t even tell if he’s lying or not.

“You jealous?” And you can hear the sleepy smirk in his words, and your own tired mind is unguarded, unfiltered.

“A little.” You whisper into the silence of the hotel room. He doesn’t answer you, but his grip on you tightens, and he hums, the meaning of which you can’t decipher. It takes you a long while to get to sleep after that.

It comes to a head a few weeks later, however, the night they perform in Paris.

“I miss her so much.” Robbie bemoaned you as the two of you walked together, his arm tucked into yours as he waxed poetic about his now-fiance. “She sent me a care package and I swear I almost cried in front of the sound operator.”

“Why?” You laughed, and Robbie groaned.

“I opened it in the bio box because I picked it up from the front desk on my way here, like right after checking in.” By the time you get to the after party, the music is already blaring, and like always, you split up to go your respective ways. Roger greets you warmly, making room for you on the sofa he was sprawled on, wrapping an arm around you as he continued his conversation with a starry-eyed groupie, who didn’t even acknowledge your presence. You make conversation with John, who’s hovering near the arm of the sofa, bopping along to the music, looking a little bit longingly at the dance floor.

Roger goes to get a drink a little while later, smiling and asking if you’d like anything, and as soon as he’s gone, Robbie, now quite plastered, pours himself into the empty seat.

“I called her- Spotlight, I miss her so much - and she told me she loves me and she can’t wait until I get home; should I walk back to Germany? I wanna see her.” He asked, words blurring together a little from his accent and his inebriated state, and he rests his head on your shoulder.

“This is Robbie; he misses his fiance.” You explain to a confused looking Freddie, who’s expression melts into one of adoration, and he ‘aww’s at that. Robbie is starry-eyed for a long moment, before he turns to you.

“Should I walk to Munich? I miss her.” He reiterates, and you burst out laughing, petting his head fondly.

“No, don’t walk to Munich, you should go home, we’ve got a big day tomorrow.” You tell him, and he groans, clearly not having received the answer he wanted. Instead, you get to your feet and offer him your hand. “I’ll walk you back, we’re staying at the same hotel.”

You find Roger at the bar with one of your arms around Robbie’s shoulders where he’s pretty much legless, the lightweight. There’s a muscle jumping in Roger’s jaw when he sees you, and you hesitate, giving him a confused look.

“Hey, I’m just going to take Robbie back to his room, okay? I’m probably going to bed after.” You tell him. He doesn’t smile, just offers you the drink he got you and blinks slowly when you wave it away. “I’ll see you later, okay?” You ask gently, hoping to get a response from him, but he’s just giving Robbie a sour, calculating look. Robbie is transfixed by the lights behind the bar and does not notice.

When you finally get Robbie into bed, much later than you would have thought since he insisted on stopping at everything that caught his interest, and taking five minutes of standing still and explaining how beautiful his fiance’s eyes were, he’s still wearing his shoes. Once under the covers, he grabs your hands and looks you in the eyes, suddenly serious.

“You’re good. You’re a good sort, Spotlight.” He tells you, his accent coming in just a little thicker with his sincerity, and he pets your hands, before abruptly turning away from you and pulling the blankets up to his nose, clearly tapping out for the night.

The room you shared with Roger was just a few floors up, and you’re in the elevator when you realise you’d left your keys in your room. You usually did, you always went back with Roger, so you usually didn’t need them. When you approach the door, you think you hear murmuring from the other side, but it could have been from across the hall, you don’t think about it too much as you knock. There’s a giggled ‘shhh’ from the other side of the door that’s less easy to play off, but you’re tired enough to think it’s just mostly-asleep Roger. You knock again, but no-one replies. It’s too late to knock too much, and you know he’s a deep sleeper, so with a heavy, tired heart, you make your way down the hall.

“What do you want?” Paul’s frowning at you when he opens the door, wearing his blue pyjamas, squinting at you.

“Keys to the bus please, I need somewhere to sleep, Roger’s not answering.” You tell him, and punctuate it with a yawn. After a beat more of watching you, as if assessing your motives, he disappears back into his room and reappears with the keys.

“Don’t lose them.” He warned, before closing the door on you.

The sofa in the bus is long enough that you can spread out, and you find someone’s fur coat to use as a blanket. It’s comfortable enough, a little cold, and it’s only when you hear a banging on the door and feel the sunlight on your face the next morning that you get up.

Opening the door, you see Roger standing there, looking up at you, waiting for entrance. Moving back to your makeshift bed, you take a seat, giving him a confused smile.

“I... didn’t think you’d actually be here.” He already sounds like he’s in a mood, bitter, but a little bit hesitant.

“Of course I stayed here, I knocked but you didn’t answer- what was up with that?” You asked, punctuating it with a yawn, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. He watched for a moment before he slid his sunglasses down his nose to glare at you over them.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, voice a little hoarse and scratchy, moving from hesitant to just quietly angry, the venom in his words hurting like a physical slap, and you sat up straighter.

“I’m-” And you’re searching for the words, but none come to mind.

“Why are you still on this bus?” He explains in a hiss. After a beat, he slides his glasses back up his nose, and turns to look away from you, a clear dismissal.

You’re at a loss as to how to explain that you’re here because... well, you’re always here, it’s where you were now. He’s the one who’d brought you here.

“What do you mean? You’re the one who wanted me here.” Standing your ground, you don’t dare let your voice betray how confused and hurt you were feeling.

“Yeah, well now I don’t.” He snapped. His words hit you squarely in the chest, and he leaves you in your shocked, dazed silence, moving to the back of the bus. “Fuck off back to the equipment bus, since you prefer it so much better.” He snarled, and that’s what unfroze you.

“Christ, I don’t get paid enough to deal with whatever this is and ride in that bus, so that’s a resounding ‘no thanks’. And more importantly; what the fuck has gotten into you?” Emotion comes crashing back into you, rage tearing through you like a tidal wave, and you turn on him, jaw clenched.

“’Whatever this is’” he snorted, low and bitter, “yeah, but you get paid enough to fuck that little, brown-haired cockhead?” He asked, and your eyes went wide.

“Who? Robbie?” You asked, voice dangerously calm. “You think I’m fucking Robbie? Our assistant stage manager? Who just proposed to his girlfriend at our stop in Munich? That brown-haired cockhead?” You snarled, advancing on Roger like a predator cornering her prey, bitter tension gathering across your skin.

“Was he the one crying on your shoulder last night at the after party?” Roger raised an eyebrow, but the sting had left his words. Narrowing your eyes, you confirm with a single, venomous ‘yes’. “Oh.”

“Is that why you locked me out last night? You thought I was-”

“I was angry, okay?” He cut you off, sitting down at the back of the bus, and though his tone is angry, his demeanour, the way he’s avoiding your gaze and fiddling, it’s... almost guilty. In that moment, it was as if you’d been splashed with cold water, an icy realisation slithering down your spine.

“What does that mean?” Voice level, you try not to jump to conclusions, but your heart is already sinking. He doesn’t answer. When he turns away, you see a hickey on his collar that wasn’t there yesterday. “Roger, what did you do?” You asked, and the hurt was already bleeding through into your words.

“I was... I was so fucking angry.” It’s not a real answer, it’s not even a real excuse. The way he says it, jaw clenched, heart in his throat, he’s all but bleeding guilt, too proud to ask for forgiveness.

“Bullshit.” Your can feel tears welling in your eyes and threatening to spill, but your hands are shaking with anger, hurt, betrayal, and you don’t even care. “You’ve been weird for weeks, you were just looking for the first out you could get.”

“Y/N.” He stands, reaches out to grab your shoulder, but you step back, out of his reach.

“No.” Your voice is firm, but your lip is quivering. “I don’t want you to ever touch me again,” wrapping your arms across your chest, looking at his outstretched hand with disdain through your tears. “Being angry isn’t an excuse. Jumping to conclusions isn’t an excuse. I get that it must be fun fucking around with the girl who makes you work for it by your standards, but,” shaking your head, you sniffle, holding yourself a little tighter with one hand, you wipe away your tears with the other, “the moment you have to work, have to put in a little bit of fucking trust? You couldn’t even do that.”

“Spotlight, please-”

“I’m in fucking Europe for you, Roger! What in your fucking, dumbass mind thinks that I’m someone who travels halfway across the world with someone just to cheat on them?” You’re yelling now, grateful to be alone and worrying that others would join you at any minute. You didn’t want them seeing you like this.

“For me? You’re here for work! I’m opening doors for you in the industry that you’d never have opened yourself!” And he knows even as he’s saying it that it’s the wrong thing to say, but he’s too furious at himself, lashing out at the only person he could. He watches as your expression turns shocked, before shattering, and you start bawling your eyes out, holding your face in your hands. Regret floods through him, but as he steps forwards to comfort you, you yell for him to fuck off.

“I can’t- I can’t leave can I? If I leave the tour, they’ll think the tabloid are right, that I’m some dumb groupie.” And you turn, distraught, and curl up on the sofa along the inside of the bus, still bawling, loud and ugly, great heaving sobs wracking your body as you realise the full extent of what had happened, and what it would mean for you. “You’ve ruined my fucking career.”

“That’s a bit of an overstatement.” He can’t even bring himself to apologise, sitting back against the window of the bus, watching as you curl yourself into a ball, the only sound filling the silence being your sobbing. It hurts, his heart is fucking aching, but he couldn’t admit it. When you raised your head to look at him, your eyes red rimmed and lip trembling, he feels only a white hot guilt fill him from the inside out.

“You don’t get it, this industry is about who you know, and if all I am is some girl who Roger Taylor fucked, flew across the world, and got bored with, it doesn’t matter how good at my job I am, I’ll just be another groupie with aspirations.” And you bury your face in your hands again.

“We could... pretend like nothing happened, until the end of the tour.” He offers, quietly, the weakest hail mary pass you’d ever heard, and you roll your eyes at him.

“I’d rather have my dignity, thanks.” You spat, taking in a deep shaking breath as you finally sat up, wiping fruitlessly at your eyes as tears continued to flow, though you tried to pull yourself together.

“You’re not under contract, you can leave if you want.” And it might literally be last on the list of things you’d wanted to hear at that moment.

“I get it, Roger, you don’t want me around.” You snap, standing. “You are who you are; I was stupid to think you were better than that.” You sniffled. When you turn and leave, he’s silent, replaying your words over and over again in his head until he’s absolutely livid at what he’s done.

When the rest of the band returns almost a full half an hour later, he’s trashed the entirety of the bus, even going to far as to rip up the cushioning on the bench beneath the back window.

“So you’ve heard the news I take it.” Brian looks at the scene before them, voice and demeanour both surprisingly nonchalant, and Roger, breathing heavily amid the carnage, gives him a sharp look. “Spotlight’s heading home, something’s come up with her family.” He explains. Behind him, John’s already started picking up a fractured mug, and Freddie is just frowning at Roger.

“Yeah?” Is all Roger says, snatching up the cushions from where he’d thrown them, and flopping himself onto the back bench, facing away from them all.

“She’s just talking to the production manager if you’d like to say goodbye.” Freddie offers, carefully neutral, and Roger suspects he knows something’s up with the story.

“She doesn’t want to see me.” He huffed sulkily, and the others lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. They can tell it’s a touchy subject but they don’t pry. They don’t hear from you, don’t even know how to contact you if they had been able to, instead they watch Roger pick up different girls night after night, trash hotel rooms, and grow shorter when interacting with the crew, especially the assistant stage manager.

“I am who I am.” Is all he says, lips around a cigarette where he’s chain smoking in the empty theatre at lunch when Freddie finds him and finally asks what’s wrong. Freddie wants to ask what happened, wants to ask why you really left, but he knows Roger well enough to figure most of it out. Roger’s a ticking time bomb nowadays, so he doesn’t pry.

The band doesn’t talk about you, not when paparazzi and reports yell out asking where you are, not to the crew, they barely talk about you to each other, and they never talk about you around Roger.

The bus is quieter now.

Roger’s louder now.

There’s an ache in his chest that won’t go away, that he’s filling with meaningless sex and too much booze because he can’t stand waking up alone, and he still thinks about what you said, and the way you had smiled at him before it all went to shit. He remembers how you’d risked your life for a light beneath his drums, and sometimes at breakfast he finds himself thinking about how you’d thrown a plate of food in his face before you were even real friends, and he wants to yell, to scream, because how could he be so fucking stupid? You’d seen him for who he was, and chose to be with him despite it, you thought he could be better than his reputation, but he’d just managed to prove he wasn’t.

It hits him when he’s got his hands on some girl whose name he doesn’t know that all he can think about is you, and he hates himself when he leans into the fantasy, not that the other girl notices. He’d rather fuck around than admit he’d developed feelings for you, and so he does, and pretends like he doesn’t miss your sleepy, morning grin, or the casual way the two of you would chat as you were rigging the spotlights for the band.

The day he finds out they’ve replaced you, the kid they’ve got is at the top of the ladder during lunch when he walks in, and he’s hit with such a sense of deja vu that he stops in his tracks.

“I was told this is the best time for me to get work done.” Her voice, thank god she sounds nothing like you, is hesitant, with none of the calm confidence you exuded at the top of the ladder.

“It’s none of my fucking business.” Roger snaps, and turns on his heel and leaves, pretending like it hadn’t felt like he’d just seen a ghost. He gets another drink.

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #bohemian rhapsody imagine #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #and then there was light #queen #queen imagine #content #the angry lizard writes

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shannonwhumps · 5 years

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for the whump dialogue thing: either 4, 19, or 20! it’s up to you.

I’m gonna try and add them all together!!!!4: “I’m going to break your hand now. Please do try and keep the noise down.”19: “The pain meds aren’t working! Don’t you hear him?” 20: “Bud, you can’t rest yet. Keep your eyes open.”

Peter doesn’t know how long it’s been. All he know is that he doesn’t remember a life before pain. He remembers breaking his collarbone, 2 ribs, and femur all on one night of patrolling and compared to this, that felt like nothing.

This man, holding him in this dark basement for only God knows why, has hurt him in so many different ways, Peter can’t even start to compile a list of injuries. So much hurts that nothing truly hurts anymore. It hurts so much, it’s numb in the worst way.

He doesn’t even know if he’s screaming anymore. His throat is too torn up to handle even a whisper. He must scream though because the man picks up his hand in his and holds it gently. His voice isn’t as gentle as his touch, but he’s not exactly soft-spoken either. “I’m going to break your hand now. Please do try to keep the noise down. Your constant screaming gives me such a headache.”

Peter would let out a sob at the warning earlier in his captivity, but now, a broken hand is nothing. It’ll probably just tickle--.

“Break his hand and I’ll break your fucking neck.”

That voice...that voice is familiar. It makes Peter feel safer than he has in weeks. It’s been a while since he’s heard it. It’s been a while since he believed he’d hear it again.

The man holding him goes still and Peter can see the fear in his eyes as they widen. He turns his head over his shoulder and then Peter can see him. The light shining from behind him outlines him like an angel. His guardian angel.

“Stark--?” He doesn’t even finish his sentence before Tony is punching him across the face and he drops to the floor. Even though he doesn’t get up and Peter knows he’s unconscious, it doesn’t make him feel any more relieved. Feeling relieved is just an easy way to let his guard down and let more pain in.

So, even though he was safe and out of danger, he didn’t move. He was never truly safe. Not down here. Not with this man.

Tony barely spares that man on the ground another look as he took a step closer. He reaches a hand out but didn’t stopped just before it came near him as Peter felt his body flinch. Or at least he thinks it flinched. He isn’t sure what his body does anymore. He tries to distance himself from it. It’s easier to deal with the pain that way.

“Pete, it’s me. It’s Tony...” His voice is quiet and not how Peter remembers it. “I’m gonna take you home now.”

Peter lets out a gruntled whine involuntarily. He can’t leave. That’s against the rules and he knows the consequences of not listening. He doesn’t want that lesson repeated. So he stares ahead and blinks.

Tony looks more worried and his eyes are watery. Peter wants to fall into his arms like he’s imagined in every rescue scenario, but now he’s terrified. “Buddy,” he tries again, his voice cracking, “it’s me. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Peter lets out a whimper he wishes he could have held back because he only seems even more pathetic. His eyes flicker down to the man unconscious on the floor.

Tony follows his gaze and just like always, he knows exactly what to say when Peter says nothing at all. He turns around to someone behind him (Peter can’t bring himself to focus on who it is) and snaps, “Get this prick out of here and away from the kid. Now!”

Two men come running in and drag the limp body away. Peter waits for the body to disappear and a moment longer to make sure he’s not coming back. He looks around the room, waiting for someone to jump out and prove this is all a trick. Tony really isn’t here. He’s dreaming. It’s a dream. But nothing happens. Tony stays there, looking realer than he ever has and Peter stares. Tony is patient and doesn’t rush him.

Peter fidgets once and lets out another whine, but it’s all his body can do. He hasn’t spoken in...well, Peter’s lost count. He lifts his handcuffed hands towards Tony slowly and still, Tony doesn’t move. He’s waiting. Peter can’t do much with the restraints so he wiggles his fingers beseechingly and then Tony asks, “Can I hold you?”

Peter nods his head, desperately. Tony leans forward and wraps his arms around Peter. He doesn’t care that Peter is filthy with dirt and blood; the man only showered him down with cold water every few days. He pulls Peter in so close to his chest Peter feels like he can’t breathe. But, it’s not like the ‘can’t breathe’ when the man held his head under water. It’s the ‘can’t breathe’ he’s forgot how good it felt just to be...hugged. Just to be touched in a way that caused him no pain.

He fell into his arms and melted into the embrace. Tony holding him so securely, his heart beating against Peter’s ear, the soft words Tony is mumbling to him, the way Tony’s hand finds its way into his curls...it breaks him. It breaks the shell he’s built up and he lets it all go at once. He feels the pain-- he feels every last bit of it and he sobs.

Tony pulls him in closer and his own voice sounds close to breaking. “I’ve got you, Petey. It’s going to be okay.”

Peter knows this. Now that Tony is here, he knows it’s going to be okay. He’s nowhere safer than in Tony’s arms. So he relaxes in his hold and lets his eyes flutter shut after countless sleepless nights.

Tony doesn’t like that idea. “Bud, you can’t rest yet. Keep your eyes open.”

Peter grunts but doesn’t open his eyes. He just wants to sleep.

Tony pulls back and Peter whines at the loss of contact. “You cannot sleep. You need to get checked out.” He looks Peter over and he can only imagine what he looks like...chained up in his boxers, covered in bruises, blood, and welts. It’s pathetic. He’s pathetic. He can’t stop the next sob that leaves him. Tony cups his face and Peter leans into the touch. He lets his eyes shut for good this time despite Tony’s voice in his ear telling him to stay awake.

He needs the sleep and he’s safe. So he does.

He wakes up to a burning pain in his leg. Everything hurts. It’s all on fire and it’s too much for him to deal with. But there’s an even worse pressure on his leg. He’s not sure what he did-- he fell asleep. He isn’t supposed to sleep. That’s why the man is punishing him.

Peter tries to hold back the cries. He’s not allowed to make a sound. He bites so hard on his lip, he tastes the blood. He’s been bleeding so much, he’s surprised there’s any left. But there is. And the blood he draws from his fills his mouth with a metallic taste.

He can handle the pain on his leg until the same feeling starts in the other one. Is the man breaking his legs again? But he didn’t try to escape! He stayed still-- he didn’t move!

Something snaps in his leg and he he can’t hold back the scream that rips through his throat. He thrashes before he can remember that he’s not supposed to move when he’s being hurt. He’s supposed to sit through the lesson and take it without complaint. But when one scream comes out, he can’t stop the rest. He only stops when he needs to take in a deep breath.

“The pain meds aren’t working!” He hears a voice shout, sounding angry and scared. “Don’t you hear him?”

“There’s nothing-- we need to reset these bones, Stark! We already knew the meds might not work. It’s chance we had to take.”

Peter cries out, wishing he can beg for them to stop, but that would require talking. He isn’t allowed to do that. So, he cries.

“He’s in pain. Dammit, stop!” The voice is closer.

“I told you you’d need to leave if you got too upset,” the woman warned. “I’ll ask you to leave if you don’t stop.”

There’s another hand on him again. This time holding holding his hand, much more gentle than the other hands breaking his body. It reminds him of they way Tony held him in that dream. It had to be a dream because if he were back home and safe, why would Tony let them continue to hurt him? He wouldn’t.

He hears his voice though. And maybe it’s in his head. Probably because there’s no other way he’d hear it over his screaming. But it brings a sliver of comfort to him. The voice is safe. The voice is home. “You’re okay, Pete. You’re okay. I’m right here and I will never leave. Not again.”

#iron dad #peter parker #tony stark #peter and tony #whump #captivity #mute #torture #broken bones #rescue #conditioning #writing #the-great-escapism

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thenovelartist · 5 years

Text

Debts on the Battlefield

This is the last prize for my TV Show contest going to @serenepy who wanted Adrienette and Mistaken Identity. After a few tries, I came up with this. I hope you enjoy it!

It all started when her parents were assassinated.

The neighboring country’s king swore they didn’t commit the crime. However, the evidence disproved his claim, and Marinette watched her father’s second-in-command declare war on the other country.

To say she wasn’t terrified of the thought of murder and bloodshed and war coming up to her kingdom would be an outright lie. This was her kingdom. If she were the heir, she would have gone on to negotiate with the neighboring king and try to uncover the truth. Unfortunately, even as the only child born to Queen Sabine, Marinette was not the true heir because she was a female, and the line passed down solely to sons.

So, she did the only thing she saw fit to do: join the military. She had been mocked at first, but when one of the commanders who had advanced high up the ranks spotted her, he enabled her to join.

“I remember you, your royal highness,” he commented with a smile. “You’re a crafty sort of girl. You were always able to slip around the house without anyone knowing. They called you Little Lucky Ladybug for good reason.”

And that was how she got her nickname. It wasn’t for two months that everyone fighting for her kingdom knew the spy that went by ‘Ladybug’. She was a valuable asset to the war.

Then came the dreaded day that she found herself caught up in a battle. It was in one of her kingdom’s towns, one that lay on the outskirts. Most of the town had evacuated, but for some, they had no where else to go but wait out the fight.

Marinette was forced to do the same.

She found refuge in a house close enough for her to see the fighting. Despite the queasiness in her stomach, she watched the battle. She watched as things exploded and guns went off and smoke billowed upward from the streets of the town. People were screaming; people were dying.

It was with a heavy heart Marinette watched the opposing forces win.

As the smoke cleared, it allowed her to see her army fall back, grabbing all the supplies they could and running in the cover the smoke provided. Those men would live to fight another day, and for that she was thankful. But when the smoke cleared completely, it allowed her to see the carnage in the streets, proving to her that there were many men who wouldn’t make it back home. Furthermore, this town that had once been hers was no longer.

She made it a habit to hold back her tears, but for today, she allowed herself to cry.

It was only once she was able to forcefully swallow the tears did she realize the front door of the house burst open. Her heart was pounding inside her chest as she froze instinctually.

Get up! She mentally chided. Move!

But it was too late. By the time she found the strength to stand, soldiers burst into the second story room, guns pointed at her.

Her only option was to hold up her hands in surrender.

…

He shouldn’t be here. If his father knew he was here, he’d have an absolute fit and likely punish Adrien as though he was a teenager instead of a man nearly twenty-one. But if his father was going to willingly go to war like this against Adrien’s adamant council, then defying his father it was.

Adrien roamed the streets of the town his kingdom had just taken over. He didn’t wear the uniform of a soldier, instead wearing plain clothes to blend into the surroundings. He wasn’t completely insane, after all. He was a hidden soldier, one that made shots from the rooftops and scoped out the best way to win against the enemy.

The moment a woman’s scream reached his ears, he instinctively looked up. Soldiers from his own kingdom were man-handling a woman, throwing her to the ground outside a house. They were yelling something, but at that point, Adrien didn’t care. The men had orders to not harm women and children. Even in this time of war, Adrien would ensure to uphold their honor.

Before one of the soldiers could strike the female, Adrien grabbed him, forcing him off his feet and disarming him. “What do you think you’re doing?” Adrien challenged.

Adrien felt the two other men point their guns at him while the man on the ground looked blankly up at him. With a scowl, Adrien threw the gun back at the man.

Adrien scowled. “Where is your honor, soldier? You don’t touch civilians, no matter which side they belong to.”

With that, he turned to offer a hand to the woman on the ground. Her wide-eyed gaze was mixed fear and intrigue. Adrien shot her a smile he hoped was charming before reaching his hand out to offer assistance. “I apologize on their behalf.”

She remained silent as she hesitantly took his hand and allowed him to assist her in standing.

She had beautiful blue eyes and hair like a raven’s feathers. Young, youthful face. A stunning beauty. He grinned, earnestly this time. “Was this your home?”

“No,” she admitted. “I was passing through and hid before I got caught in the crossfires.”

Poor girl. Yet, her voice held a stubborn courage underneath her fear. “May I then suggest running away from the fighting so as not to get caught again.”

“Understood,” she said, pulling her hand from his. “And thank you.”

With that, the girl spun around and scampered off.

Adrien watched her for a moment before turning back to glare at his men. “Listen carefully,” he warned, tugging out his pocket watch engraved with the kingdom crest. The men instantly stiffened and straightened. “Do not harass the enemy’s civilians. They already think lowly of us. Don’t give them any more reason to hate us.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

…

It had been a month since Marinette had been saved from her certain entrapment by an extremely handsome young man. At the time, she had been carrying enough notes on her to have her captured as a hostage. She swore that if she ever got the opportunity to repay her debt to him, she’d do it in a heartbeat. Never once did she worry about forgetting his face. She would never forget those kind, green eyes or that mess of blonde hair on his head or that genuine smile.

It was after a battle that she saw him again.

He was in a town among the bodies of many people, both soldiers and civilians.

She would have to make up time later, but for now, she helped him off the ground, propped him upright against a building, then scavenged the area for anything she could find to wrap his head wound.

There was bullet-riddled laundry hanging about that would have to do.

“Well, we meet again,” he said, his smile lopsided and eyes halfway opened as he watched her rip apart the fabric into bandages.

Her heart skipped a beat. He remembered her? “It seems so,” she said with a grin.

He hummed, then remained silent as she wrapped his wound.

“Thank you,” he said once she finished tying off the strips. “I find myself deeply in your debt.”

She blushed lightly. “No. You saved me from those soldiers. This is me repaying my debt to you.”

His smile turned roguish, which only made him more handsome. “I don’t agree. You’ve exceeded paying off what little debt you were in.”

Even though she’d have to scold herself later for being caught up here, letting her heart run wild for a moment, she shot him another grin while shaking her head. “Not by my thoughts.”

“Well, then,” he said, and she knew by that gleam in his eye that she was in trouble. “I’ll just hope that I get once last chance to free myself of this debt you have placed on me, whether you agree or not.”

She should get out of here before she gave into the will to continue flirting with a man she didn’t know the name of. That was already scandalous of her, but it was particularly offensive in the middle of a war. She forced herself to stand. “Then I hope that our next meeting will be under more pleasurable circumstances.”

The smile he gave her as she ran off would come back to haunt her for weeks.

…

He counted himself lucky beyond belief. He was supposed to be marching around the town, trying to scope out the battlefield. In his down-dressed state, he was able to walk straight past soldiers without any issue. He had to hold back his smug grin.

And that’s when he saw her.

Gleefully grinning, Adrien slipped around the crowds of people so he could be in front of her path. “Why, would you look at that?”

He startled her, and it hurt his heart to see the sudden fear of her realizing her path was blocked. The way she looked up at him, with wide-eyes full of fear and stance prepped to run, it was clear she was skittish. If it was from war, then he could do nothing but feel guilty. But if it was from his men attacking her, then he’d swear vengeance.

However, she relaxed, her hand over her chest probably to calm her racing heart. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Forgive me,” he said earnestly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No. I’m just not used to being approached.”

He grinned. “Are you unused to men calling for your attention? I don’t believe that. A lovely girl such as yourself? You must have had many a man dropping at your feet before the war.”

Where those words came from, he didn’t know, but the blush on her cheeks as well as the skeptical smile was invaluable. “Careful, you sliver-tongued devil.”

He chuckled. “Forgive me. I can’t help myself. Nor can I stop myself from asking this question that has been on my mind since the day we meet.”

Her smile fell and brow knit in worry. He forced his smile to stay on his face even though he hated causing her guard to come rising up again like this. “Oh?”

“May I be so bold as to ask your name?”

Slowly, her shoulders relaxed and her smile returned. “Marinette.”

He tested the word on his tongue and very much liked the way it felt. “Well then, Marinette.” He reached for her hand to bestow a kiss on her knuckles. “What a pleasure meeting you officially.”

With a giggle, she tugged her hand away. “We have not met officially,” she teasingly scolded. “For I don’t know your name.”

Heat rose to his cheeks surprisingly quickly. “Ah, yes. What an idiot I am. My name is Adrien.”

Before she could respond, the clock chimed the hour, and he realized he needed to get back.

“Forgive me,” he said, bowing before her. “But I actually have somewhere I have to be.”

“As do I,” she said, taking a step back. “But it was such a pleasure to meet you.”

“And you, Marinette. I do hope to see you again.”

She gave him a smile before scurrying off into town. As he was leaving, he sent up a prayer that she would be getting out of town as quickly as she could. He didn’t want his Marinette caught in the cross-fires.

…

Her kingdom was losing the battle. They were up against an equally skilled army. The issue was they were much larger than their own.

That, and they had Chat Noir.

Marinette had been transporting a warning to all the squadrons all over her kingdom informing them about the man once caught in black leather taking shots from a high ground. It was as though he knew the terrain, knew the field, knew how their armed forces would be organized.

And that meant they were in deep trouble.

Marinette found herself caught in the cross-fires once again. She had been delivering messages about this Chat Noir figure to the troops stationed here, only for the opposing army to spring an attack on them.

Not wanting to be caught anywhere near the general’s house, Marinette scampered for another cover spot. Maybe, if she was lucky, she’d be able to get out of the town completely. There were many people unprepared for the attack here, all running around frantically while trying to escape the city. In the commotion, she slipped down an alley way, only to run into a figure in a black leather vest.

She looked up, only to come face to face with Adrien.

His eyes widened upon seeing her. “What are you still doing here? Get out of the town.”

“I could ask the same for you,” she countered, holding tightly to the hand he grabbed as he pulled her along out of the city.

“Wrong place, wrong time,” was all the answer he gave.

“You and me both.”

They escaped the alley, only to skid to a halt upon seeing several of the opposing army’s men standing there, guns in hand.

One spotted them and raised to fire.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Adrien shoved her back into the alley just as the shot rang out. Marinette squeaked at the sound, sadly accustomed to it but not of it being so close.

“Run!”

So she did. As fast as she could, her hand in his, she ran, weaving through the town buildings with ease. But just as she turned the corner, she slid to a stop upon seeing even more soldiers. She ducked into the closest open building, dragging Adrien in behind her. He quickly shut the door, just as the soldiers started shouting and gunfire went off.

“Upsta—” She never finished that word and instead gasped at the sight of blood staining his shirt.

He looked at her, then down at his shoulder. His brow furrowed as he tugged at the cloth. “They got me.”

“We have to get the bullet out,” Marinette said.

He frowned at her. “And you know how to do that?”

She would love to say that she could confidently, that she personally did it before when she spent the first month of the war helping at a hospital while other nurses were being assembled. “I’ve assisted in the procedure and seen it done many times.”

His brow furrowed, questions clear on his face. But he didn’t voice them. “What do you need?”

…

Adrien was not looking forward to this. Once before, did he have to get a bullet taken out of his leg, but that was the extent of his major injuries. He could have waited for the battle to be over and his own army’s medical staff patch him up, however he knew they would be busy as is. And as Marinette listed off the things she needed, marching around the surprisingly full house with a determined expression, his confidence in her grew.

Once they collected everything they needed, Marinette instructed Adrien to lay down on the bed upstairs. He stripped out of his vest and shirt before he did. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a slight dusting of pink on her cheeks. He didn’t know what to think of it, but he wanted to be flattered by it.

For the next several minutes, he was biting down on a rag while she dug the lead bullet from his shoulder and sewed up the wound. It was about as painful as he remembered it being.

However, the biggest pain of all was being shot by one of his own men. He supposed that was the price for trying to protect a civilian.

“Thank you,” he said once she was bandaging him up yet again.

“You have to stop getting injured when I’m around,” she said. He got the pleasure of learning her eyes sparkled when she teased.

“I’d love to,” he said. “Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s going to happen for the foreseeable future.”

She shook her head, but the smile she wore was one of amusement.

“I can’t help but notice,” he began, unable to help himself, “that I seem to cross paths with you in the middle of these battles.”

Her expression fell as her eyes locked on his.

“I…” she began, struggling with her words. “I have family and friends everywhere,” she eventually said. “But I’m as shocked as you are that you’re in these battles constantly.”

He forced a grin when he really wanted to cringe. “I… I’m documenting the battles,” he answered, thinking that it was a halfway decent excuse.

“Oh,” was all Marinette said as she tied off his bandages.

He had to think of something quick to change the subject. “Sorry for asking,” he said. “It just seemed odd that such a lovely young woman like yourself happened to be in the middle of battles. Not that I don’t love running into you; I would just prefer them being under much better circumstances.”

A lovely rosy hue spread across her cheeks, and he couldn’t help but feel warm knowing he caused that lovely look on her. Slowly, she ducked her head, a smile on her face. “Flatterer.”

He grinned. “Hardly.” The scary thing was that he meant it. Here he was, Prince of the Papillion kingdom, flirting with a commoner girl of the opposing kingdom. She was beautiful; that he wasn’t lying about. And kind. And had a lovely smile.

She snorted, turning away.

Despite knowing he should be out there, it seemed he was trapped here until the battle was over. His own fault for wanting to clear out the civilians. He told the general not to pull such a barbaric move, attacking a full town, but even though he was the prince, the generals swore they knew better. Today, they would have to serve without their eyes in the sky. It seemed fair to Adrien. At least, that was what he told himself so he would feel less guilty in the pleasure he took being trapped here with Marinette.

…

She was terrified. And that was an understatement. She’d been caught by the opposing army. She listened to the creak of the enclosed cart, the lock and chains on the outside making plenty of noise with every step the horses took. There were a couple army officials in the cart with her, all ones she’d been meeting with before the camp was raided.

What they were going to do, she didn’t know. So to keep the thoughts at bay, she thought of her kingdom. And when that got too hard, she thought of Adrien and his smile as he told her to stay safe as they last parted ways.

“I’ll find you again once the war is over,” he’d said with a wink. “Mark my words on that.”

With a sigh, Marinette forced everything out of her head. Apparently, even dashingly handsome, green-eyed blondes made her heart hurt too much.

…

“Father, we took the kingdom.”

Even though Adrien grinned for his father, he did not feel happy about it. He could only think of the civilians caught in the crossfires, of the towns he’d assisted evacuating when the fighting happened. His thoughts wondered to a certain Marinette and her bright smile, appearing in the battlefields. She wasn’t the only young woman running for her life from the war—there had to be people younger and far older than her running for their lives—but she was the only one that came to the forefront of his mind.

“Good,” was all his father said. “I hope this serves as a lesson to anyone else who dares to accuse us falsely.”

Adrien’s stomach dropped. He didn’t like his father’s methods. He felt them flawed. They should have gone to the kingdom with white flags raised and assisted them in discovering who the true assassins were. That would have been far more beneficial for both of them.

“We will absorb their kingdom into ours,” his father said. “They are small, as are we. We will be a stronger power together.”

Adrien simply nodded. “What will you do with the war prisoners?”

Gabriel paused. “I suppose we will release them,” he said. “No need to make any more of an enemy with the new part of our kingdom. But document them all first so that they have records against them already. If there is an uprising they are a part of, then they will be tried.”

Adrien nodded. “Yes, father.”

“And I will have you oversee it,” his father continued. “I’ll be far too busy with other matters to oversee something so trivial.”

“Yes, father. I understand.”

…

Marinette may have hated liars, but right now, it was best to tell herself she wasn’t completely terrified that she might just die.

She, along with all the other prisoners of war, were to be documented as potential threats, meaning that if they ever made a wrong move, they’d likely be hung.

The men brought the prisoners out in several small groups. They were warned against acting out, even under the threat of the Prince of Papillion being there and able to give the order of them being hung on the spot. Marinette hoped for the sake of them all making it out alive that everyone would cooperate and the officials would be merciful.

The soldiers made their way through the rows of cells, meaning Marinette was one of the last to be taken out. And as the only woman, she was taken out alone.

She had to squint at the sudden bright daylight, and she cursed the sunshine. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but once they did, her gut sank.

Because Adrien stood there in his royal garb, proving he was the prince overseeing everything.

She watched his expression shift to one of horror. She shoved down her emotions and begged her eyes to stay dry. She had to pretend it didn’t feel like betrayal that the man she remembered fondly on the battlefield happened to be the prince of the kingdom responsible for murdering her parents.

She had been the Princess of Coccinelle; she would stand with her head high, chin raised, back straight. She would not cower.

“State your name,” the recorder asked.

“Princess Marinette Dupain of the Coccinelle Kingdom.”

Everyone froze, particularly Adrien.

The recorder was the first to move, ready to write the name down in the book.

But Adrien’s arm shot out, covering the page before the man could touch the pen to the paper.

“Your royal highness,” Adrien addressed, bowing before her. “I would like to give my deepest apologies for the treatment you have received. Should you agree, I wish to offer you a stay here at Castle Papillion, for there are many matters I would like to discuss with you.”

Curious, she rose a brow. “What matters do we have to discuss? You are the ruler of my kingdom now, are you not? That is what this war was about.”

He looked hurt at her words. As he should be. “The first matter I wish to discuss being a long list of apologies for our transgressions against you,” Adrien began, his words still strong and steady as a prince’s should be. “The second being an offer to discover who truly is behind the deaths of your parents, for I assure you that I know of no such plan that has ever been in place in this kingdom.”

Her brow furrowed. “You say you know of no plan, yet did you not just wage war against us?”

“My father agreed to such terms, but I swear I opposed it from the start.”

“If the king himself did not listen to your council then what makes you believe he will agree with your offer to me now?”

At that, Adrien was silent.

Marinette bit back the urge to smile bitterly up at him. “Then I will decline your—”

“Your royal highness, please,” Adrien said. “Please, allow me to make amends.”

“Amends!” Marinette cried in outrage. “You take over my kingdom and now want to make amends?”

Her heart was screaming in pain as she watched Adrien struggle for words.

“Yes,” he answered. “I do. Whether my father does is not a decision I can make for him. But I want to do what I can to express my deepest regrets.”

Marinette glared at him. Even though the logical answer was no, something in her… something in her didn’t agree.

“One day,” she growled. “I will give you one day.”

Again, he bowed before her. “Thank you, your royal highness. That is grace from you I know I do not deserve.”

…

There was nothing more humiliating than having to salvage any possible relationship with a princess that had been mistaken as a war criminal.

Adrien rubbed his eyes. His father had been less than happy at the news of what Adrien had done. His father had glowered at him and said, “I will have no part in whatever you decide to do.”

Which really meant that Father was disappointed in Adrien’s choices and would make Adrien clean up his own mess with his own resources.

Adrien felt that was fair. He’d bit his tongue against voicing off against his father, knowing it would only rain more hell back down on him.

He sat in his own study awaiting Princess Marinette to arrive. He’d ordered her to be tended to, which meant a bath, a place for the night, and a change of his late mother’s clothes. Then, he’d asked for her to meet him in his study for the morning.

When she did arrive, she looked none too happy.

“Prince Adrien,” she said, her voice sharp with irritation as she curtsied before him.

“Princess Marinette,” he returned, bowing for her. He then offered her to take a seat, which she did. She sat all and proud, chin raised, eyes fiery.

If they were on better terms, he’d gladly pour compliments over her and lay a kiss on her knuckles. However, he knew that would not be accepted at the moment.

He hoped that one day they would.

“Your highness, I need to apologize—”

“Why.”

Adrien paused. “Why?”

“Why do you feel the need to flatter me with apologies after what you did to my kingdom?”

Adrien took a breath. “Because no matter what my father did, I disagreed with him from the start.”

“Yet you were on the battlefield.”

“If he was going to start a war I could not stop, and the generals were more than happy to put in in motion, then there was nothing I could do except hope to keep the casualties to a minimum.”

Her eyes narrowed as she studied him for a moment. “Is that why we constantly crossed paths in town?” she asked. “Because you were trying to keep civilian casualties low?”

“And I scouted ahead,” he admitted. “To see the best way we could surprise people and subsequently flush them out instead of firing deadly shots.”

Again, those sharp blue eyes locked on him. He stared back, hoping that she would realize that he was telling the truth.

“I want to believe you.”

Her tone was sharp, but somehow, he believed those words. “If you don’t, I would understand completely,” he said. “You have every right to be mad at me. You have every right to not believe me. Honestly, you have every right to hate me and my kingdom and my father. I won’t fault you.”

For a moment, her eyes fell to her lap. After a moment of silence, they returned to him. “Before the war began,” she started, “your father said your kingdom did not kill my parents.”

“I have every reason to believe that is the truth,” Adrien said. “We had no reason to start war with your kingdom. As I said before, I advised my father against going to war with your kingdom. If the assassins were from our kingdom, then we would brand them as traitors and bring them to justice. As smaller kingdoms, we would have been better off forging an alliance between us. Why start a war when we could be strong together and on good terms?”

Marinette looked skeptical, but at least she wasn’t angry at him anymore. Adrien would gladly take any peace offering she would give.

“Can I have your word,” she said, “that you know nothing about the assassins. Swear to me with the same honor you showed on the battlefield to my people—to me—that you did not have any involvement with them or the plan to take over my kingdom.”

He held up a hand in oath and looked her directly in the eyes. “I swear on my life and on my honor that I had no knowledge of any sort pertaining to your parents’ assassination.”

For the longest time, she just looked at him, studying him. He didn’t dare move.

“I believe you.”

He felt relieved, but knew that that her belief was shaky. “I swear to you,” he said, “that even if I have to spend the rest of my life proving that trust to you, I will. And I will begin today.”

It was barely noticeable, but her shoulders relaxed the tiniest bit and her chin lowered slightly.

He grinned. He supposed it was a start.

…

Marinette was in her castle, back in her own room that wouldn’t be hers for much longer. How long, she wasn’t certain, but Adrien agreed to let her stay in the home she grew up in until further notice.

“Your royal highness,” a servant that approached her said. “Prince Adrien Agreste of the Papillion Kingdom has arrived and requested an audience with you.”

Her stomach dropped. “Lead me to him.”

With false courage, she went downstairs to meet him. “Prince Adrien,” she greeted. “What brings you?”

The look on his face was worrisome. His frown was strong, and his eyes held a sadness. With his head bowed, he presented her a stack of letters. “Princess Marinette,” he said. “I must beg your forgiveness. I swear I have upheld my oath that I had no hand in this, but I recently discovered that my father has.”

Her heart stopped. With shaky hands, she reached out to take the offered papers and slowly opened them to read.

“I’m sorry,” Adrien kept repeating. “I’m so sorry.”

She couldn’t read them fully. She could only skim them. Words popped off the page at her, haunting her. Somehow, she finished reading the damning papers. Her world felt like it was spinning, leaving her dizzy and disoriented. Absently, she closed the papers, looking up at him even though she felt completely lost.

“Princess Marinette, I have a proposition to make you,” he began. His voice was filled with emotion he was clearly trying to shove down. “I met you on the battlefield many a time, and if the rumors are true, then you are a skilled spy. Though, you only became one to serve your kingdom.”

Her brow furrowed.

“I know I do not know you well enough to say this, but I will state it anyway: I believe you would make a great queen for your kingdom. As its heir, you should be the rightful ruler, not my father.”

She smiled bitterly. “That is kind of you to say—”

“I’m not finished,” he said. He glanced around at the soldiers in the room before leaning closer and lowering his voice. “I am only slightly more confident in saying that my father clearly does not have the proper respect or honor it takes to lead a kingdom.”

Her eyes widened in surprise at his words.

A fire sparked in his eyes, and she knew he was about to say something dangerous. “So will you assist me,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “In overthrowing my father.”

His words stunned. She was there with her eyes wide and mouth agape in a way she would certainly be scolded for.

“And once we do,” he said. “Because I am most certain we will succeed, I will take over for my father and grant you back your kingdom, allowing you to become the ruler that your kingdom deserves.” He paused, taking a step back to give her space. “I wish to prove to you that the man you met on the battlefield was one of honor. I’m asking for a lot, I am aware, but will you partner with me on this endeavor?”

Marinette looked him over, searching his eyes and his body language and his expressions. She knew it was madness to trust him, but then again, did he have reason to trust her? Marinette could tell he was earnest in his apology and righteous in his intentions.

“I remember on the battlefield,” Adrien continued. “How, each time we ran into each other, we would find ourselves in the other’s debt. Well, I seem to find myself vastly in yours, and I hope… I hope you will trust me enough to allow me to pay it off.”

While stunned at his words, she stuck her hand out in the space between them. “Surprisingly, I do trust you. Prove to me now that you are that man I met on the battlefield.”

He smiled, then reached for her hand, bowing over it to kiss her knuckles respectfully. “Princess Marinette, I will not let you down. And maybe one day, I will prove to you the kind of man I am.”

She smiled, remembering that first time they met on the battlefield. How he’d come to save her. The irony of each of them assisting the enemy was not lost on her. But now, she knew in her heart that they were fighting for the same side. “I believe you… Partner.”

…

It was the second hardest year of Adrien’s life. Plotting to overthrow his own father… he warred with himself about how terrible of a son he was. But in the end, when he discovered more incriminating evidence about his father wanting to wage war with another kingdom, that was all Adrien needed to be certain that this plan was for the best.

Marinette was a good partner. She would make an incredible queen, her words powerful and actions meaningful. But she was also sly and crafty and clever. It was because of her that a rally of trustworthy troops were at the ready to assist in bringing Adrien’s father to justice.

“I’m doing this for you, Adrien,” his father had said when presented with the evidence.

“No, you’re not,” Adrien scowled. “This is for your own selfish gain.”

After that, Adrien offered his father two options: step down quietly and give Adrien the throne, or be assassinated on the spot.

With Marinette pointing a knife at his nick, Adrien’s father decided to go quietly. Adrien called in several court servants to serve as witnesses as the paperwork was completed.

“I don’t want to lock you in the dungeons, father,” Adrien said. “I suggest going quietly to mother’s old estate.”

Marinette was the one who sent soldiers to monitor him for months. And when they came back a few months later saying he was killed, Marinette and Adrien decided to look the other way instead of seek justice.

The next several months after King Gabriel’s resignation were spent rebuilding the kingdoms and establishing Marinette as Queen of the Coccinelle Kingdom before releasing it entirely.

“But Marinette,” Adrien began, “one thing before you return.”

She turned her blue eyes on him. He could not deny the way his heart skipped whenever she looked at him. Or how it got hard to breathe. Or words failed him.

He swallowed. “I… For the benefit of both our kingdoms, I would like to bind our kingdoms together in peace,” he said.

She smiled, and he might have had to brace himself on his desk to keep from falling over. When he was a kid, he never understood the fluttery feelings lovers got in fairytales. Now, it seemed he understood them too well. “Well,” she began. “There is a simple solution.”

It took him much too long to come to any conclusion, and when he did, it seemed like the wrong one. “A marriage union?”

Her smile confirmed it, and nearly knocked him off his feet in the process. “I do find myself in your debt, after all.”

His brow furrowed. “How so?”

Her smile shifted slightly, changing it from congratulatory to sweet. “You returned my kingdom to me.”

“I could not have accomplished that without your assistance,” he countered. “Furthermore, that is the fulfillment of my debt to you.”

She shook her head. “I disagree.”

His heart skipped and he swallowed, giving him a moment longer to find words to say. “I don’t think that you owe me nearly enough to pledge your life to me out of gratitude.”

That locked the two in an impasse.

“Then,” Marinette began. “May I suggest that you come courting, and maybe, after a while, I’ll find myself in such a debt that I won’t be able to say no to your proposal.”

He couldn’t hold back his smile even if he wanted to. “Then my I warn you that this young king has set his sights on a lovely young queen to be his bride.”

He relished the sight of her smile as well as the light dusting of pink on her cheeks. “Your warning has been noted. Best of luck to you in your endeavors.”

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #one-shot #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrienette #royalty #au #I don't know what else to tag this as

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azozzoni · 5 years

Note

Can you do a follow up to that Elia getting kicked out fic with filippo coming over and finding out what happened and marti and nico seeing them together for the first time

Elia turned his phone over in his hands as he sat on Niccolò’s couch, not really watching the TV, not really listening to Martino and Nico in the kitchen making dinner. He felt numb, as if his life was happening to someone else.

Filippo’s last messages lingered on his phone, increasingly concerned when he hadn’t replied to the shirtless selfie. Elia didn’t know what to tell him, didn’t know how to explain this. He could barely tell Martino and Niccolò.

All Elia had managed to text back was that he’d had a fight with his dad and had gone to Nico’s house. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t exactly the whole truth either.

As Elia sat on the couch, lost in his own thoughts, trying not to think about what he was supposed to do next, where he was supposed to go, how he was supposed to get through this, the door buzzer rang and Niccolò came out from the kitchen. He tossed a glance to Elia, a reassuring smile that Elia didn’t really feel, tucking his phone away as Nico opened the door.

“Filo,” Niccolò said, and Elia’s head shot up, craning to look down the hall to the front door.

“Elia said he was here,” he heard Filippo say, and he realized as Filippo came down the hall, turning to find him on the couch, that Filippo didn’t know that both Martino and Niccolò knew. They’d agreed not to tell anyone for a while, so why would Filippo show up here unannounced?

“Eli,” Filippo said as he caught sight of him, and Elia dropped his gaze, somehow embarrassed. He didn’t want Filippo to see him like this, the bruise forming under his eye, red and purple. He didn’t want Filippo to know how weak he was. “Your beautiful face.”

Pushing himself up, Elia took a deep breath, steadying the emotions welling up inside him. “What are you doing here?” He nodded at Niccolò as he said it, watching Filippo pause a second, as though considering the question.

“I can read between the lines,” Filippo replied, stepping over to the couch, ignoring Martino emerging from the kitchen. “And from the look of this bruise, I’d say it was more than a regular fight.”

Elia flinched as Filippo’s thumb brushed over his cheek, the twinge of pain. He’d been hit before, but this one seemed to hurt much worse than any other.

“Filo,” he started to say, to explain something or make an excuse about how this wasn’t a big deal somehow, but Filippo didn’t let him, pulling him into a tight hug instead.

Elia couldn’t breathe all of a sudden, not because of Filippo’s arms around him, not because his chest was pressed to Filo’s. He couldn’t breathe as he felt the warmth of Filippo enveloping him, the soft scent of his lemon soap lingering on his skin, and Elia let out a shaky breath as he felt the first prick of tears in his eyes.

He hadn’t cried all day, not when his dad was yelling at him, not when he’d threatened to send him away, not when he’d slammed the door behind him. He hadn’t felt anything on the way to Nico’s or even with Martino sitting next to him, telling him things would be okay.

But now he couldn’t stop the tears from gathering in his eyes, and he raised his arms, winding around Filippo’s waist as he buried his face in Filo’s shoulder.

He didn’t care that Martino and Niccolò were probably watching. No one was speaking, and Elia tried to concentrate on Filippo’s breathing, slow and steady, trying to match it as the weight of the day pressed down on him.

It seemed like an age until Filippo moved back, brushing away the wetness at the corners of Elia’s eyes, eyes darting over his face as though checking that he was okay. Elia wasn’t quite sure what the feeling was welling up inside him, maybe gratefulness, maybe something else. He and Filo hadn’t exactly defined what they were doing. Hooking up, sure, but Elia wasn’t sure beyond that.

“What happened?” Filippo asked, and Elia looked away.

Martino and Niccolò stood in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, watching silently. Martino nodded reassuringly when Elia met his gaze.

Elia took a breath, looking back at Filippo’s concerned face. “My dad saw that picture you sent.”

Filippo’s face fell as understanding flitted across it. “Shit. Elia, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Elia assured him. He should have been more careful with his phone, not left it lying around where his dad could see it. “He would have found out eventually.”

Elia didn’t know if that was true since he hadn’t planned on telling his dad about Filippo, about liking guys at all, but he didn’t want Filippo to think he was responsible for any of this.

Filippo sighed, hands coming to Elia’s neck. “Do you need somewhere to stay? You can always stay with me.”

Elia hadn’t expected that, and he felt a smile appear. “Thanks, but I’m gonna stay with Marti,” he said, and Filippo nodded.

“Probably a better idea. Don’t want you to fail all your classes.”

Elia couldn’t quite laugh, but he nodded as Filippo tilted his face up. Something was changing, he could feel it, between them, but he wasn’t sure what. It felt different, though, as Filippo leaned in and kissed him, in front of Martino, in front of Niccolò, like he didn’t care at all.

“You’re gonna call me if you need anything,” Filippo said when he pulled away, and Elia felt himself nodding, letting out a breath, feeling better for the first time in hours.

“So, are you staying for dinner?” Niccolò asked a minute later, glancing at Martino. “I made plenty.”

“I supervised,” Martino assured them, and Filippo laughed, reaching for Elia’s hand and squeezing gently.

It was still surprising, something new, but Elia liked it. It made him feel safe somehow.

“I’ll stay,” Filippo said, smiling when Elia met his gaze. He’d stay.

#skamit #skam italia #skamit fic #elippo #my fic

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things-we-used-tc-share · 5 years

Text

Summer Rain

Warnings: minor alcohol mention, Deceit is mentioned but he’s not really a bad guy, he just trips over everything a lot. I guess kinda age gap? Roman is 28, Logan is approaching 35.

Ship: Logince

Plot: Logan runs into a young man that loves to interrupt his reading time, against his will he’s managed to make a friend. Slowly as he begins to learn the boundaries of his own soul, he thinks he might see more than friendship along the way.

The turn of pages in a book could be the symbolism for Logan’s current existential dread, but he’s paying more attention to how the pages feel under his fingertips than the reason he’d needed the book in the first place. Approaching thirty-five years old, the professor was not completely unaware of how his family talk about him, he’d been single for most of his life because he’d chosen to be, he didn’t find much interest in searching for love or finding “The One,” like his parents had been nagging him too for years.

Unfortunately, he was thirty-four years old, single, unmarried and his parents wanted him to be. And having put down the phone less than half an hour ago he’d launched his own mind into a spiel of whether he was failing at his own life. In much more simple terms, Logan was panicking that his purpose in life was to find love and he didn’t want to. It’s his firm belief that if it truly is his purpose then it should find him because he has far more important things to do like teaching college students about the field of medicine and also drinking whiskey at 10PM whilst marking test papers. Every time a student writes something that makes him want to ask if they’d actually listened for a second, he takes another shot.

It’s not that Logan is lonely, okay maybe he is just a little bit lonely. He’s all the way out in Florida whilst his family lives in another state and he’s never bothered to make friends but he’s thirty-four and he’s lonely.

The kicker is that Logan isn’t sure if he does want to be not-lonely, he’s almost certain he doesn’t want to fall in love and even more certain that he doesn’t want to make friends. He blames his parents for guilting him into having emotions.

A cup of coffee is placed down in front of him and he uncrosses his legs on the comfortable cafe seat before looking up to thank the man who placed it down. He frequents this cafe so often that he knows everyone by name and face. There’s Virgil, a skinny young man who looked like a teenager going through a quarter-life crisis, despite being twenty-five. There’s Patton, who runs the cafe, who smiles and everyone and gives out free homemade cookies to children. Then Declan, a man who was terrible at lying when Logan asks him “Did you put milk in this?” and trips over his own feet every five minutes.

But this face was new. He had long brown hair pulled back into a bun, dark brown eyes and was possibly the only person of the workers of the cafe that A) Was wearing glitter and B) didn’t look like they had a Vitamin D Deficiency. That’s to say that he had a tan and wasn’t so pale he was translucent (Virgil) or looked like he hadn’t been outside in about four weeks (Patton, Declan).

And he was talking.

“...I hope that’s okay for you, I was told no milk so I thought I should ask if you wanted a milk replacement because we have Soya, Almond and Coconut milk and...” He was talking a lot. Logan was wondering if there’s a socially acceptable, or kinder way, to say shut up before he stops.

“I just like my coffee black,” His tone sounds a lot harsher than intended but the waiter only smiles in return, Logan supposes he’s had ruder patrons in this cafe.

“That’s also fine! I just wanted to make sure,” The ebony haired man finds the name tag that reads ‘Roman’ and decides to make up for his rudeness.

“Thank you...Roman, I appreciate your willingness to make your customers feel comfortable,” He offers a tight smile before looking down at his book, with every intention to continue reading. Roman, however, seems to have other ideas.

“What’re you reading?” It’s rare that anyone willingly talks to Logan, even (especially) people who know him, even Patton, the happy go lucky owner of the sho understood that the man was not one for bounds of conversation. It seemed that Roman had not quite grasped this yet but Logan was sure in due time he would.

“It’s a study of how psychological effects of the mind can cause illness in the body, IE why people who are mentally ill can be more prone to physical illness, the short answer is stress lowers the immune system, but I’m a Doctor so I find everything behind it more fascinating,”

“You’re a Doctor? Woah that’s so cool,” The blue-eyed man blinks, having never quite received that response as the man looks like overly excited by the information. “I’m a student, a little late on the uptake but I study Performing Arts, that’s not quite as important as what you do though,” Logan takes a moment to consider the other’s words before he decides he does actually have something to say about that.

“I think you’re undermining the value of Performing Arts if you think that, whilst yes I train people who will go on to save lives, art as a medium can do more than perhaps you realize, in my line of work I had met many people who have been through times that medication could not save them, but art had,” He takes a breath as Roman waits patiently for him to continue “In fact it’s something mentioned in this book, mental illness, and art is quite often linked, many people who pursue art as a career or hobby find it greatly improves their mental health to have an outlet, plus a world without performance would be rather drab, don’t you think?”

“I...uh...yeah,” Roman replies quietly, looking down at his hands before turning his head towards the counter “I’d love to talk some more but I should probably get back to my work,” He pulls on his bright smile again, “Enjoy your coffee!” Logan watches him walk away and he would be lying to himself if Roman, albeit initially irritating, hadn’t intrigued him a little.

By the end of the day he’d forgotten all about him, however.

“Mind if I join you?” Logan peers over his book to the newcomer, who was dusting flour off his apron “This ones on the house,” A cup of coffee was placed in front of him with a caramel cookie “Consider it a peace offering for interrupting your reading but I’ve got a break and you’re...handsome,” He wonders if he physically recoiled from the statement as he lowers the book because Roman smirks at him. Oh, he’s blushing, that’s why he’s smirking. Logan internally groans but accepts the cookie.

“Be my guest, it doesn't look like I’ve much say in the matter,” It would, after all, be rude after he’s just bought him a coffee and a cookie. Roman isn’t that irritating after all, he looks permanently like a lost puppy but his voice isn’t unpleasant to listen too (By the end of the hour-long break, Logan might have something else to say on the matter).

He absently listens to the other talk which is mostly complaining, but Logan finds himself chuckling as the other man talks, despite his concentration being predominantly on his book. He doesn’t reply, but Roman can tell he’s listening with the small half-smiles and nods of his head, and honestly, that was enough for him.

It becomes a habit, Logan’s reading time interrupted with Roman collapsing in the chair opposite with a cup of coffee and a cookie. Somewhere along the line, Patton had simply put a cookie aside for Roman to gift the other man, with a shake of his head and a wide smile (”Roman you’re not wasting two dollars a day for a cookie I’m happy to give you for free,”).

Somewhere along the line, Logan actually stopped being mildly irritated by the other’s presence. He wondered absently if this is what friendship felt like.

“It’s raining, in August!” Roman doesn’t even ask anymore as he places down the coffee and the cookie and flops into the chair opposite him “It’s Summer Logan! It shouldn’t be raining, what’s worse is that it’s still unbelievably humid,” Logan snorts and lowers the book.

“Nice to see you too Roman,” He reaches over for his coffee and takes a sip before he looks out the window. It was indeed raining, it pattered against the window gently like a wave ‘hello’ from a stranger. Logan’s attention turns to the rain as he watches it slide down the windows and turn into silver by the sunlight that hits the streets. “It’s hardly unsurprising, currently climates all around the world are displaying unusual and worrying habits, however, a little bit of rain on a Friday evening will not do you any harm,”

“It’ll do my flawless hair some harm,” The other mutters before pulling the bobble out of his hair and letting it unravel from where it had been held captive. He runs a hand through it before pushing it to one side. “My hair gets so frizzy in wet weather it’s not even remotely funny,” He sighs dramatically, letting out a ‘humph’ as he rests his elbow on the arm of the chair.

“Your reaction is certainly amusing,” Despite himself, Roman smiles. The elder takes a moment to look at the man, sporting a white shirt rolled up and tucked into black skinny jeans, a pastel pink apron tied around his waist. Logan catches himself smiling just a little as the other falls into quiet and watches the summer rain, hair falling over his shoulders and sunlight highlighting his tanned skin.

It’s scary how Logan actually acknowledges this man is attractive. He’s scared, he doesn’t like that situation, he doesn’t particularly like that unbeknownst to himself he’d started to enjoy Roman’s company and genuinely look forward to him plopping down on the chair opposite him and ranting about how clumsy Declan is. He doesn’t like it because it’s new and scary but he’s also not the sort of person who's ever let fear stop him from doing completely irrational things. “Roman?” The other looks up and meets cerulean eyes with a tired smile “What time does your shift finish?”

Logan’s idea of a date is not something Roman has ever recieved. For one he didn’t think he’d ever enjoy sitting in a museum until Logan starts talking. And then he doesn’t stop talking. In fact, Roman is 100% sure he’d never heard the blue-eyed man talk so much and so fast and so...alive. It’s like he held in the keys to the Universe and now he was spilling them out. Roman understood that this was important to him.

So he listened to him talk about the things there, about the history and interesting, Logan talked about the impact of these machines and how they worked, with the art industry. It dawned on Roman that Logan had brought him here to learn more about his own craft and it’s history, as well as showcasing just how much Logan loved how things worked.

They were both treading on new territories here. Logan, having never really experienced a need to move into a more romantic area of his life was for one, finding this all very disorientating but exciting. Roman, who’d never met a man actually willing to try and ‘woo’ him so to speak, was completely enthralled and hanging off every word that left the elder man’s mouth.

Logan gave him flowers.

Roman hugged him.

Then they parted ways at the end of the night, knowing that Roman would be interrupting Logan’s Friday morning reading before he goes off to work. (Logan had noticed that Roman’s breaks were not consistent anymore, they weren’t at the same time, he was literally taking these breaks at those times so that he could interrupt his reading. He can’t tell if he’s endeared or whether he should be reprimanding the other for not being more sensible)

Logan is invited, along with Patton, Virgil and Declan to attend Roman’s performance at the end of year showcase for the University he attends. He spends an hour trying to understand what he’s supposed to where and even goes as far as Googling “What do you wear to attend performances?” In the end, he settles on a dark blue shirt and black slacks, hoping for the best. He meets the other three in the most awkward and longest amount of time they’ve spent together. Virgil is wearing the hoodie he constantly refuses to take off, but has exchanged his usual black t-shirt for a black dress shirt, with his eyeliner a little bit neater than usual.

Declan was wearing green, in a variety of shades and Logan is no Art Historian, but he was sure the industry didn't go through centuries of adaptation for Declan to wear that. He decides to bites his tongue on the matter however as the boy is already pre-occupied trying to balance two large drink cartons and the biggest bucket of popcorn any of them had ever seen.

Patton was the only one that seemed to have tried to dress up for the occasion, wearing a blue dress that fanned out around his knees and his curly brown hair pinned back from his face. Logan wondered how he managed to get the confidence to wear it, and honestly, he’s a little bit jealous even if in day to day life it wasn’t really a practical garment that he would wear. “Hey, Logan!” Patton exclaims “Are you excited? I’m excited!”

“Thrilled,” Virgil mutters under his breath “I’m mostly here for the food, not gonna lie,” Logan bites back a smirk, well aware from the constant bickering he hears between the two that Roman and Virgil do not often get along. Patton pouts and Virgil sighs “Fine! I’m a little excited to see tall dark and annoying perform,”

Declan is eating popcorn straight from the bucket and simply looking between the three of them “D! Are you eating the popcorn,?” The bubbly young man finally frowns and the atrociously dressed young man blinks like a deer caught in the headlights, mouth full of popcorn.

“...No?”

The three of them bicker a little and Logan simply sips his drink and watches with an amused smirk. Despite being colleagues they appeared more like a slightly mismatched family or strays that Patton had picked up off the street.

“Come on guys, we’re gonna miss it!” Virgil finally says exasperatedly. “And now I have a migraine, I’ve not even seen him perform yet,” (It turns out, Virgil had actually bought aspirin along, and somehow this act of pre-meditated annoyance, amused Logan more than anything else thus far in the evening).

Logan’s glad he didn’t miss it.

Roman as a person was enigmatic, full of life, he followed his heart and his dreams and these were all things Logan didn’t particularly understand but he admired anyway. Roman on stage? Performing? It wasn’t often that the elder man came across situations where he was emotionally charged, but he almost forgot how to breathe the moment Roman opened his mouth and sang.

Patton had noticed the other’s expression, lips parted in shock and eyebrows furrowed, but it wasn’t until Roman had reached a song so full of sadness and Logan’s eyes welled up with tears that he reached over to place a comforting hand on the other’s arm. “He’s really good isn’t he?” The elder nods and wipes his eyes, wondering why he’d never heard Roman sing before. He wishes he could listen to him sing all day every day.

(One day he might get that wish)

After the performance, Roman greets them and Patton hugs him, tells him he was wonderful but he really has to go now because his husband has just got home. Virgil tells Roman he “Did alright, I guess,” but smiles before he’s dragging Declan out (Who still hasn’t finished his popcorn). Which left the two of them.

“Have you been crying?” Roman asks, a worried look on his face as his hands come up to Logan’s face and slides his glasses up slowly. It’s a strange form of intimacy that the ebony haired man is unsure he’s ever experienced before. He nods anyway and his hand comes up to Roman’s as it’s falling.

“Don’t ever give up Roman, you’re so unbelievably talented,” And the younger has heard those words so many times from so many different people with when Logan says it, it sounds real. Maybe it’s the way his eyes are so full of emotion, or the way he’s holding his hand but his words make Roman feel stronger than ever.

“I won’t,”

They leave together, stood outside. “It’s raining again,” Roman sighs, pulling his hair up into a bun, Logan watches and feels for the first time perhaps why people had so deeply wished for him to open his heart up a little. Oh god, I’m falling in love. Roman smiles as the rain patters against his skin, washing glitter against his cheek, under the streetlights he sparkles more than a thousand spotlights. “My flat’s just around the corner? I don’t know how far you have to go...” Logan’s panicking, for the first time in his life he’s truly scared and it shouldn’t be so scary but he doesn’t know what to do. He isn’t sure if he’s supposed to read between the lines or if there’s more Roman’s asking of him, he wished he’d paid more attention to how people react in social situations. “Hey you don’t have to...come, you look like I’ve just murdered your mother,” Roman’s hand is in his and there’s a smile so warm on his lips.

His brain quiets a little.

“I’m not well-advised in these situations Roman, I’ve never...done this before, I've never even really had a friend before,” He pauses “I’ve never courted another man, never been in a relationship and I’m confused, because I’m unsure if you’re asking me to come back to your flat because I live on the other side of town and it’s late, or if there’s something more you’re asking of me,”

Roman goes very red when the message finally drops “Oh! No! I mean, not that I wouldn’t like too!” He lets out a squeak as he tries to organize his words “One day, it’s just right now I’d prefer to just...not, I was offering for a place for you to sleep, nothing more or less,” A sigh of relief escapes Logan and he nods.

“Then yes, I would like to go home with you,” Roman smiles, their hands stay interlocked. Logan stays the night in an apartment filled with certificates and medals and strange costumes that are all in a mysterious wooden box. It feels cozy, but he sleeps on the couch. There are some things he needs more time before exploring.

Logan and Roman are apparently built out of patience for each other. Most men, six months into flirting with another guy would probably have given up on a prospective relationship by now. Luckily, Roman understood that Logan needed his time and headspace to explore his feelings. Logan’s patience came from the fact sometimes Roman would not stop talking and at this point, he’s just learned to accept that this is the way he is, and honestly, he’d only be annoyed if it were anyone else.

Patton, who is becoming their number one stan, is perpetually gossiping about the two and saying “He can’t wait for the day for his children to fall in love,” Virgil points out that that’s probably something you shouldn’t say in public around people who aren’t going to understand, and also Logan is five years older than him. Patton gives Virgil a cookie and tells him he’s smart.

Logan comes back after work to see Roman, as the cafe is closing up he leans against the window with his book open and begins to read absently whilst waiting for the other to finish cleaning up. He feels a tap on his hand and looks up to see the long-haired man beaming at him as he allows himself to be pulled into a hug. Folding the corner of the page and sliding the book into his bag the two began to walk. And Roman talks. Logan listens.

The two come to a stop outside the cinema after about fifteen minutes of meandering the city streets “So what film do you want to see?” And Roman is right in front of him, blinking up with wide brown eyes with a stray piece of hair falling loosely from its clip. Not for the first time, Logan’s brain short circuits but his hand moves of its own accord as it tucks the stray piece of hair behind Roman’s ears. The younger smiles the warm and soft smile that’s generally reserved for the other man.

“I’m not sure,” he finally responds “Whatever you’d like, Roman,” They end up watching a rom-com and Logan hadn’t expected less from his friend at all. WHen they leave the cinema though, Logan thinks back to all of the similar movies he’s watched and never understood, then he looks at Roman and thinks that he finally does. The evening is well on its way as stars litter the sky and the summer rain makes it’s uses in the night time warmth. Logan meets Roman’s eyes. I am so in love.

He kisses him. Gently, holding his hands and feelings his fingertips intertwined with his own. He kisses him like he has no idea what he’s doing but at the same time, like he’s just discovered a secret he’d hidden from himself. Roman kisses him back with a smile on his lips and his skin soft under the other man’s hands. It’s a gentle kiss, it’s quick but it does say what Logan’s extensive vocabularly could not have done.

“I love you,”

“I love you too, Logan,”

((This fic took me an entire day to write I shit you not))

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