#i like oversized sweaters sue me

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> kang yeosang x reader warning(s) -> mentions of prostitution, mentions of sex toys, mentions of non-conscensual sex, spiked drinks, abuse/neglect, etc. words -> 3.2K

abstract -> "...let me see the angel without her wings. At least... one last time."

yeosang's pov

I was dressed in a beige uniform. I was in the orange-coded kennels. I didn’t see anyone in front of me or beside me. I was completely alone…

Was she gonna come get me… pay them off, maybe? I wondered about that girl… Did she go home to her hybrids safely? I hope she’s okay…

“Be careful… there's a possibility he won’t say anything either. Kun is only letting you be on your own because he trusts in you” I heard and I saw the curtain open from my kennel and I saw an employee and the girl from yesterday. 

She wasn’t in a pretty little dress all dolled up anymore. She had a mask covering her face and an oversized sweater. “Thank you, Renjun,” she said as he left me alone with her. 

“Hello, my name is y/n.” she introduced and I nodded acknowledging her and waiting as to why she was here. “I wanted to ask what happened when I was with you?” she asked me and I debated it. She’d be another blackmail victim…

I shook my head. I couldn’t let another innocent person go down… especially one with hybrids she takes care of. 

“Please… I know rumors are going around against your owner. Those bandages on your neck also tell me that you’re hurt. She was abusive, right?” she asked and I didn’t know what to say. 

“I just want to know what happened? If you talk to the employees she won't ever cause you any more trouble” she said and I wanted so badly to believe her. 

“This is the Seoul Hybrid Rehabilitation Center, they have enough funds that no one here can be paid off. I also have friends investigating the Seoul Police Department” she said and I was shocked. 

“Not to mention lawyers if it gets even more messy. I just need the truth” she asked and I sighed. “I don’t want you to get into trouble. You seem like a genuine person” I confessed and I noticed how the corner of her eyes lifted as if she was smiling under that mask. 

“Which is why I need your help. I promise, if you want to be free I can make that happen”

She left after making that promise. I was still on edge if I should help her. 

The daughter of a CEO… of course, she’d have a connection but how was I a hundred percent sure she wouldn’t be faking it? 

“Come on, Yeosang we need to do a check-up”

y/n’s perspective

I left hoping he’d think about my deal. The nice thing about having the reputation that I do is that people offer their help to me without thinking twice. 

Taeyong was personally investigating, Jaehyun offered to be my lawyer if it got messy, and Kun was letting me see Yeosang. 

“Everyone is talking about it! Twitter is suspecting her abuser allegations!” Wonyoung said while showing me her phone to see social media completely eat her up. 

“She still hasn't made a statement but I wouldn't be surprised if she ended up lying to save herself,” NingNing said. “Yah! You’re so lucky to have him” Winter said as she ate Wooyoung’s cooking. I chuckled… I'm glad they get along with my hybrids even if San does keep his distance. Wooyoung loves having the attention and praise of others which was cute to see his big smile and tail wag. 

“There's a possibility that you might be in her statement,” Wonyoung said and I sighed. “If that's the case, she’ll get an email from Jaehyun that I'm gonna sue her,” I said and they nodded. 

“y/n-nnie!! Your phone is ringing!!” I heard Wooyoung say as he handed me my phone. “Kun?” I said while answering. “Can you come by? Yeosang is demanding to speak with you, he’s causing Doyoung some trouble” he said with a tired voice. 

“Sure,” I said and the girls looked at me expectantly. “Yeosang has something to say to me?” I said and they nodded. “Come on, I'll have the driver take you!” Wonyoung said as the girls packed up. 

“When will you come back?” I heard Wooyoung ask as I now saw San by his side having his chin on his shoulder. “I don’t know but it shouldn't be long. I'll call if I come back late” I said and they nodded. 

“Wooyoung!! Your cooking is amazing as always! y/n is lucky!!” Winter said and he thanked her with a grin. “You’ll get her back soon boys, don’t look so grumpy~,” Wonyoung said as San looked away dismissively. 

“I’ll be back soon!”

“Hello,” I said as I approached the kennel. I knew the day I spoke to him he was scared… and hesitant. He also had bandages wrapped around his neck from what I assumed to be from his collar. 

“Is she going to get me?” he asked me with his voice trying to stay strong… but even then I heard his shaky tone. “Not legally… she did come apparently trying to get you. It's like I said though… they can't be paid off” I said and he nodded. 

“And you?” he asked and I was confused at what he was implying. “Can you be paid off?” he asked and I smiled. “No, I can run this whole city if I wanted to. I can buy everything she owns too, so no I can’t be paid off” I answered and I swear I saw his tail wag slightly. 

“Adopt me,” he said and I was shocked. Did I hear wrong? “If you adopt me I'll tell you everything, '' he said and I scoffed. “It doesn’t work that way… I don’t if you're doing this for her but I can make sure you're safe” I promised and he sighed. 

“Can I ask why you'd adopt hybrids?” he asked me and I smiled softly. “Well, I don’t know, I never wanted one. But I met a hybrid that immediately fell for me. He then found a companion, despite not being good with others and now they’re with me” I explained and I didn’t notice how he was giving me a sad look. Almost like a look of sad jealousy. He smiled softly like he was happy… but also bitter. 

“I’m sorry,” he said and I was confused. “Why?” I asked and he sighed. 

“I’m not telling you anything, not until you adopt me” 

“Who does he think he is?! Does he think he can just replace us?!” I heard San yell at Wooyoung. I told them about his request. I noticed San’s annoyance spike and Wooyoung seemed insecure but neither expressed it. 

Hearing San yell his frustration made me chuckle. It made me realize just how much he’s grown and accepted me. “She wouldn’t take his proposition. She loves us” Wooyoung said and I heard San take a deep breath. “It's not about that. I know she’d never… but it's about another hybrid challenging us Wooyoung. Trying to take her from us” he said with possession. “It sounds like he wants it for protection. Not because he wants a second life” Wooyoung said and I agreed. He wanted to be free from her abuse. 

“I guess… who does he think he is tho. I hate how she’s still looking for evidence because of what that girl did. Spiked her drink to gain blackmail…” he muttered and I finally decided to step out.

“Don’t worry about that” I said and he sighed as he looked at me with a softer expression and a smile. “What's the hybrid’s name?” Wooyoung asked me and I would have answered– “Who cares?” San muttered grumpier than usual. 

“y/nnie his attitude is insufferable!!” Wooyoung said as he tackled me in a hug which I reciprocated. “Do you have to go back today?” San asked and I sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. I have a lawsuit that needs to get out rather quickly for athletes before she uploads a video twisting my situation” I said and they nodded. 

“At least eat breakfast,” Wooyoung said and I nodded. 

He fixed up a plate for me whilst they talked about a new comeback they saw on the TV. San has grown to really enjoy watching TV with Wooyoung which is sweet. Wooyoung with his perverted habit of sneaking into my room reads my books or at least the newest draft which I named circus. 

It was nice to know they had hobbies other than hanging out with me. It was reassuring when I left the apartment. I just hated how he wished to join me outside but he couldn't because of his hatred of crowded areas or even around other hybrids. Wooyoung also said how he didn’t want to cause unnecessary attention and opted out joining me despite sometimes going with me when it comes to common everyday things like grocery shopping. 

They lived comfortably. 

The opposite of the hybrid is now in front of me. 

Yeosang… a doberman hybrid, victim of abuse. And one who has refused to speak to me unless it's about me adopting him. One who also caused a lot of issues to the staff that he’s been considered to go up to red code territory. 

“Change your mind?” he asked and I shook my head. “Yeosang, you have to understand I have two hybrids already. One of them… well he’s previously a red code hybrid. He’s still considered the lowest to be on yellow. He isn’t good with other hybrids” I said and he scoffed. 

“Then why adopt such a troublesome hybrid?” he asked and I smiled. “Cause he deserved a chance–” “Are you saying I don't?” He cut me off and I shook my head. “You do. Yeosang you have a better chance of getting adopted, you’re a very pretty hybrid and well-behaved. You do have some behavior training that needs to be fixed but someone will adopt you” I explained and he sighed. 

“Just so what? I get abused again? Used for my reputation, used for sex, used! That's all I'm good for?!” he asked and I shook my head at his sudden outburst. He was angry but I saw his eyes turn glassy before he turned away and faced the corner of his kennel. 

“Yeosang… I’m sorry” was all I could say to the hybrid whose shoulders were now shaking and his ears faced flat on his ears. “You can’t tell me what to do! He’s mine, understand?!” I heard as I saw Renjun trying to stop a girl my age from stomping her heels over. 

“You! How dare you?! Abuse?! Me, abuse him? Never, and you little bitch tried your way with him. Disgusting really!” she said with her princess attitude. I noticed Yeosang hide further into a corner almost like he was hoping to disappear. 

“Yeosang~,” she said in a fake ‘soothing’ voice. “I’ll get you out of here, and we'll be together my precious boy,” she said and he now looked back almost like he wanted to believe her. 

Kun told me how he showed signs of a deprived hybrid. Meaning if she said the right things he’ll go back to her without any other words. 

“You won’t win the lawsuit. I’ll take you to court and I'll make sure the judge knows how you aren’t responsible enough to take care of your hybrid let alone two” she threatened and I glared. 

“You’re trespassing on private property, so you can either relieve yourself with your last warning or the police will be involved” I heard as I saw Kun. She scoffed and smiled her sweetly fake grin. 

“I’ll be back for you, Yeosang” 

yeosang’s pov

When she left, they asked y/n to leave as well. 

She adopted a troublesome hybrid… an abused hybrid. That was her excuse for not adopting me. Maybe she was lying? Everyone lies to get what they want… It's what my owner does. 

It was stupid to try… the punishment I get when I go back to the stupid suite will be the worst yet. 

“Yeosang, unresponsive” I heard as I didn’t move from my corner anymore. Everything was pointless. I’ll also be the reason for her losing her hybrids. Troubled hybrid who got a better second chance… Why did I have to be selfish?

I looked back to see two employees and the doctor with protective gloves to handle me.

“I’ll talk…  but only to her,” I said, one more time. 

Please let me see the angel without her wings. At least... one last time.

The doctor rolled his eyes. “Then, behave for now,” he said as I complied with them as they did their check-up and for once. I didn’t cause him trouble…

They left me in the doctor’s room when the door finally opened after some time. 

“Hello,” she said with a worried expression. “You don’t have to worry about me,” I said and she sighed, not shaking her worry.

“She’s been doing it for years. Blackmail, she would sometimes have people pay for ‘services’-”

it disgusted me that I had to explain but I had to fix what I did to her

“-or she’d spike them and have them go to an apartment she rents. It's filled with sex toys and even accommodates several kinks. She explained to me that she wanted you in her spider web of networking. So she spiked you and asked me to comply. The thing is… every person is disgusting. Drunk or sober they always go through with it… but not you? Why?” I asked curious and she sighed. 

“I don’t know. People say that when you’re drunk you do or say things your conscious thinks of. I have a happy life, Yeosang” she said and I chuckled. 

“Unfortunately, it doesn't end there. She’s abusive, physically and mentally. The medical records show it… and I think the other doctor has been analyzing me” I confessed and she smiled. 

“Thank you,” she said and I nodded. “I’m jealous of your hybrids. Even if I do go back to her, I'm glad I got to meet an angel like you” I said and she sighed. 

“Yeosang, even if it's not with me. I promise you’ll live a happier life without her” she said and as much as I wished to believe her. 

But… I at least knew even angels lied. 

y/n’s perspective

'It's all over Twitter!' Wonyoung texted through kakaotalk. The lawsuit was now public… there was hate between both sides. Mine and hers…

Mainly hers, with Yeosang’s statement but I felt guilty that he was now living in a cage when he asked me several times to take him in. 

“It's over!” Wooyoung said as the final statements were all over the news. “Do you regret telling him no?” San asked me and I shook my head. “I’m too much of an empathetic person, that's why I'm sad about it… but I could never choose Yeosang over you guys” I confessed and I noticed Wooyoung’s ears stand up. He had a horrified expression. 

“Yeosang? His name was Yeosang?!” he asked and I nodded. “You’re reacting like you knew him personally,” San said, confused at the fox’s sudden temper. 

“He was my friend! I was in the same adoption center as him. He’s a doberman hybrid that I met…” he said with a sad expression. I was gonna comfort him when I got a text…

Doyoung SOS !! Yeosang’s owner is demanding custody of him. Paparazzi are everywhere, please help !! 

I sighed and grabbed a coat. “What happened?” San asked and I sighed. “Yeosang’s owner is bringing her statement to the rehabilitation center” I explained and Wooyoung put his shoes on and coat hurriedly. “I’m coming with you!” he demanded and San scoffed while following us. 

I didn’t want to argue with them, not when what she could do could ruin my reputation but also get Yeosang back. 

After running like madmen in the streets of Seoul we got here to the front of the hybrid center where I bullied my way through the paparazzi and reporters. “Jeno!” I said and he recognized my voice as he hurdley let me in despite the protests of the media trying to get in. 

“I would never abuse a hybrid!” I heard as I noticed she was even filming. “I won’t leave, it's my right, he's my hybrid!!” she said and I scoffed at her demanding attitude. 

“You!” she said as she spotted me and started recording me. “How does it feel that you ruined my life and Yeosang's!” she demanded and I scoffed.

“Medical records prove to be different” I muttered and she scoffed. “Forged everything you did! You bought your way through this with daddy’s money!” she yelled and I would’ve fought her on it if I didn’t see the scared doberman now come out with Kun.

"Oh my poor baby!” she said and he shook his head while trying to hide behind Kun. “He’s scared of you,” I said and she scoffed. “Are these your alleged hybrids? The ones who should be euthanized for the illegal hybrid rings?” she asked and I glared. 

“That's none of your business, not when you're no better than the people who operate that cruel organization,” I said and she glared.

“It's my word versus yours–” “You’re a horrible person. I hate you when all I wanted was a fraction of what she gives her hybrids–" "Cut the tapes!” she yelled while Yeosang yelled at her. “-I never want to be in that situation again!” he yelled with tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“How much money do I have to pay you?” she now said while looking around the room. She now looked at me. “How much, name a price?” she asked almost desperate now and I smiled. 

“I don’t want your filthy money, I’d rather see your face in a courtroom,” I said and she scoffed and ran out of the building.

“Yeosang!” I heard Wooyoung now tackled the doberman.

“Wooyoung?” he asked, clearly shocked at the sudden hug from the fox hybrid. “Go back to the kennels, y/n you can talk to him there,” Kun said as Renjun led us to his kennel. 

“Thank you,” Yeosang said to me. “For what?” I asked and he sighed. “For not putting a price on me” he muttered and I smiled a sad smile. Wooyoung was crouched and leaning against the glass wall separating him from his friend. 

San had made his way to grip my arm in security. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, '' Wooyoung said softly and he nodded. “I’m happy that you got out of here. I remember the day you got sent to the adoption center only to be taken by your previous owners and taken here I presume?” he asked and Wooyoung confirmed. 

“Maybe I will be given a second chance. But thank you y/n, if it wasn't for you I’d still be in hell” he said and I sighed. “Maybe in another life, we could be adopted together,” Wooyoung said, making Yeosang smile softly. “Maybe in this life you can?” San said and I looked at him to already meet my eyes. 

“I don’t like him. But… I didn’t like Wooyoung when I first met him either” he said, making me laugh and Wooyoung let out a “Hey!” in response. 

“You mean it?” I asked and he nodded. I’m guessing he must’ve seen himself in the doberman hybrid. “You’ll adopt me?” he asked and I smiled “Only if you’d let me?” I asked and he chuckled.

“I could never say no to an angel”

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[goldenfigtree]

Operation: Pamper Condor One

Summary: It’s your one year anniversary and you decide to make it your mission to give Leon the treatment he deserves.

Pairing: Leon Kennedy (any Leon of your choice tbh) x Fem!Reader

Warning: toothrotting fluff

Note: yeah I know, I know it’s spooky season but I’m a lover for the aesthetic of Valentine’s Day and thought it’d make this Drabble even more romantic. Sue me! Either way I hope you enjoy! This one is one of my longer ones.

February 14th was a day you despised with every fiber of your being. The hearts, roses, and the sickly shades of red and pink never swooned you. Any mention of the holiday earned a gag and an eye roll from you in return. Mainly because it reminded you how single you were, but you never said that aloud. Instead you went with the more indirect reasonings when questioned,

“Valentine’s day is just another unnecessary commercial exploitation” was your favorite one to use. But deep down, you envied those who got to celebrate having a significant other, wishing you could join in all of the fun. That is, until Leon Kennedy came along. Being the cliche and cheesy guy that he is deep down, he decided it’d be romantic to ask you to be his girlfriend on Valentine’s Day at your doorstep with an oversized bouquet of roses. One year later and your perception of this romantic holiday had completely been redefined. That’s what love does to you, you guess.

And now here you were, a week before Valentine’s day secretly planning the most romantic evening you have ever planned in your life. To be fair, it was the first romantic evening you ever planned, making it the most romantic thus far. It being the first romantic date you had planned made you all the more excited and anxious to make sure everything was absolutely perfect. Not one candle or balloon was out of place. Despite all the chatter from your friends, saying that it should be the boyfriend planning these sort of dates on this holiday, you didn’t care how you may look putting this together. More important matters were at hand, specifically Leon not really being the same since his last mission.

You remembered clearly how exhausted he looked when you picked him up from the airport, how he practically fell into your arms, how permanent his frown has been since then. You hated seeing him like that. You wish you could take his pain and exhaustion away, but you couldn’t, and that you hated more. So, in hopes to lift his spirits, you thought of Valentine’s day being the perfect opportunity to give him the treatment he deserves, especially on a day that the both of you held dear to your hearts. Screw the tradition, the expectations, all you cared about was getting your Leon back. The Leon who was serious to some but especially giddy and happy with you. The Leon who always had a twinkle in his eye when explaining something he was passionate about. You were getting him back if it was the last thing you did.

The week flew out the window with the fiercely cold winds of winter, and the time had finally come to execute Operation: Pamper Condor One. Wearing a lipstick red chain knit sweater and a pair of jeans, you pull your hair up into a bun at the top of your head and wrap it with a white scrunchy with tiny hearts. Looking in the mirror you didn’t expect to come to this point in your life. You didn’t think you’d ever enjoy today like this, much less with someone who made life worth perceiving at a different, more positive angle. But, you weren’t complaining, you liked this new you and you sincerely hoped that you could bring the old Leon back tonight.

Looking around your apartment with brows furrowed, you murmured your checklist to yourself to ensure everything was in place. It was safe to say that you went all out with this one. Heart shaped pillows replaced your usual everyday pillows on the couch, candles were lit everywhere in the house to the point where it was almost a safety hazard, and most importantly, rose petals scattered on the sheets of your bed. Nibbling on your thumbnail, your mind spirals in a panic as you wait for him to arrive.

Is this too much? Will he hate it?

You thought to yourself looking around the apartment from your couch, your legs crossed and your one heart patterned sock covered foot bouncing anxiously. So deep in thought, you jump at the sound of Leon’s familiar knock, one he came up with so you knew it was him at your door. Standing up so fast, you begin to almost see stars as you clumsily make your way to your front door and swing it open.

“Hey beautiful” Leon greets, his voice soft, sentimental, yet so very exhausted. With an oversized bouquet of your favorite type of flower in his arms, he has to tilt his head to the side to look at you.

“Awe you shouldn’t have!” you gush happily as you tug his arms toward you to lead him inside.

“You didn’t think I’d forget our one year did you?” He grunts as he places the bouquet down on your kitchen counter.

“Never” You reply with a giggle as you watched him lean back to stretch his back,

“Jesus, those are heavy” He groans to himself, “you also have something coming in later tonight”

You couldn’t help but snicker at his obliviousness towards his surroundings, as he continued to speak,

“I also got us a reservation at your favorite restaurant, we’re supposed to be there in… wait what’s all this?” he asks softly, turning around and taking notice of the romantic ambience of your apartment.

“I’d cancel that reservation if I were you, because we’re not going” you say leaning against the kitchen counter, crossing your arms,

“We aren’t?” He asks cautiously, turning back to you. You smile smugly and shake your head,

“Nope, tonight we’re going to be focusing on you” turning him to face you and wrapping your arms around his neck, you place a soft peck on his lips as his eyes turn up in thought,

“Me?” He murmurs against your lips, earning an agreeing hum from you in return,

“Go sit at the dining table, I’ll be there in a minute okay?” still a bit unsure of how this evening was going to turn out, he eventually nods and makes his way to your circle dining table. Noticing a wrapped box leaning against his chair, wondering what it could be.

Not long after, you walk out with a pizza box in your hand, Leon’s eyes immediately light up noticing the emblem on the top lid,

“Is that–”

“Your favorite? Of course” you triumphantly respond, placing the box on the table and opening the lid. The savory aroma of melted cheese and pepperoni filled the air which filled Leon’s eyes with excitement. Something you hadn’t seen in a while, seeing it now made your heart soar. So far, your plan was going swimmingly. Serving him a slice, you place a kiss on his forehead and sit across from him. While taking a bite of his pizza, he looks around at all your hard work and attention to detail in awe,

“Babe, you did all of this…for me?” You look up from your plate and reach out to take his hand with a loving smile,

“Well, you’re always taking care of me, I thought maybe I could do it for a change” You explain, a bashful grin growing on your lips as you squeeze his hand. His eyebrows furrow as his mouth falls slightly, something told him it was because of how he’d been acting since he came home. Guilt washed over him, he thought he had hid it so well. But this extravagant gesture showed him the opposite of what he thought was reality. You had often asked him what happened and if he was feeling okay and in return, he just shrugged it off. Telling you not to worry about him, that he could take care of himself. Little did he know how much that isolated the both of you back then. But he saw it now,

“Baby, I’m sorry for being so off lately and shutting you out. I thought I was protecting you but I think I did the opposite” your eyes softened at his words as you stood from your chair. Kneeling down you take him in your arms and kiss his forehead,

“I know” your breath brushed against his skin, causing his shoulders to drop slightly, “You were trying to tough it out right?”

With a soft exhale through his nose, he nods his head slightly, “You know you don’t have to carry this weight on your own right? That’s what I’m here for” you continue brushing some his hair away from his face,

“I guess, I don’t exactly know how to do that” resting your forehead against his own, you rest your hands behind his neck, the pads of your fingers making his eyes flutter slightly in bliss,

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it easier for you, starting tonight”

A small smile grows on his face, your soft voice always being music to his ears, and knowing you cared this much, to do all this for him. Since you two had intertwined your lives, you continued to show him what he had been missing. What he yearned without knowing. Nodding his head, he leans in to press his lips to yours. His hands gently lifted you closer to him and before you knew it, you were sitting on his lap, legs dangling over his right thigh as your lips failed to pull away. Every kiss rebukes all anxieties and fears from both of your minds. After one last peck, his lashes flutter down as he notices the wrapped present against his chair again. You notice and with a chuckle you reach down and place it on the table,

“Happy One Year my love” you coo nuzzling your head against the side of his. You wished you could take a photo of the look on his face as he eyed the carefully wrapped box. He looked like a little boy on Christmas Day,

“go on, open it” you urge. With a quiet laugh he makes the first tear of the paper and then another tear. With your legs swinging, you watch him open the box and pull out a T-Shirt and read the words. His smile widens as he reads it and out comes a laugh you missed so dearly, like a dream that flees from you the moment you awake.

“My Girlfriend Is Hotter Than You” he reads it aloud and places a smooch on your cheek, “that she is, that she is”

“That’s not all” you say with a smirk, earning an eyebrow raise from him,

“Is there something else in the box?”

“Nope” your hands leave his neck and reach the hem of your sweater, beginning to lift it from your body. A motion, you noticed, made Leon’s cheeks redden. You lift it over your head and drop it to the floor to reveal your matching t-shirt,

“My Boyfriend Is Hotter Than You” in bold black letters matching him. He practically gasps and tightens his arms around you peppering kisses along your neck, making you giggle from his excitement,

“And you said you hated these type of shirts” he points out smugly,

“What can I say? You’re a bad influence on me” you retort back, standing up from his lap and extending your hand,

“C’mon the night isn’t over” Leon’s ears redden from your words, as he takes your hand and lets you lead him into the bedroom. Sitting him on the bed, you grab his shirt and lift it from the bottom, with a shy yet excited twinkle in his eyes, he lets you. Placing it neatly on your dresser, you sit behind him on the bed,

“What are you doing?” Leon asks with a look of intrigue on his face,

“Giving you a massage, duh” you tease,

“Oh, I thought we were gonna…” he clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish chuckle, “right” he adds, sounding a tad disappointed. Pressing a kiss on the back of his neck, sending shivers down the man’s spine, you ruffle his hair and whisper in his ear,

“Maybe later” you almost saw his ears perk up from your words as your hands stroked along the scars littering his back. You remembered the first time you saw those scars. Wanting to kiss every single one of them away, knowing how much of a burden they casted on your lovely boyfriend. Resting your hands on his shoulders, your thumbs knead the area beneath, feeling the pent up tension,

“Does this hurt?” You ask with uncertainty,

“No, feels good” he murmurs, his eyes gently closed. With a sigh of relief you begin to rub down and knead every area of his back. Sighs and grunts escape his lips as he feels his body tense and relax from your touch. You smiled softly, glad to see him receiving the attention and care he deserved. You couldn’t imagine how tense he must have felt using his body so brutally to survive and play hero. You could feel the exhaustion, pain, and stress leave with every manipulation of muscle, “I love you” he murmurs again, his eyes half lidded and a dreamy smile on his lips.

“I love you, too” you softly respond, hugging him from behind, “how do you feel now?”

“Amazing” he mutters under his breath, “Thank you”

You can’t help but gush at his words, always so sweet, so polite. Getting up from the bed you run to the bathroom and take one of your clay masks and place it on your dresser,

“You’re really spoiling me here” he comments bashfully as you also come back with the leftover pizza in the pizza box, his gift and turn on the tv.

You chuckle and begin opening the clay mask and walk over to him. He widens his eyes and holds his hands up, “Wait, lemme do something first” he says, causing you to lift your brows curiously. Grabbing the t-shirt you gifted him, he slips it on and admires the letters spreading across his chest, “Okay now you can continue”

“So you like the shirt huh?” You tease smearing the teal paste onto his forehead,

“I thought I made it obvious” he retorts back sassily, closing his eyes. You roll your eyes and continue smearing the mask on his face,

“There all done, now just relax” you reassure, pressing him farther onto the bed,

“Wait, you’re not wearing a mask” he points out taking the paste from you, “c’mere”

“Leon, this is about you remember” you protest,

“Last I checked, it’s our one year anniversary, not mine. Now come here, I’m not doing this alone” he adds the last part sternly, making you sigh in defeat and scoot over to him so he can apply the paste onto your face. You can’t help but smile as you watch him carefully apply the paste on your face as neatly as possible. After he finishes, he kisses your lips earning a sound in protest,

“Babe, you’re going to make the mask crack” you say sheepishly,

“Tuff” he remarks, hovering his body over yours to kiss you more deeply.

The doorbell rings making Leon pull away, his eyes filled with excitement,

“It’s here” he whispers to himself, hopping off the bed and making his way to the door. Coming back he holds a gigantic teddy bear, the exact one you were eyeing while the two of you were running errands together,

“You didn’t!” You gasp,

“I did” effortlessly, lifting the teddy bear that was half the size of him, he places it next to you, “like it?”

“I love it! Thank you” you gush hugging the bear tightly.

“Alright alright, I’m right here you don’t need to cuddle it now” he adds, a tinge of jealousy in his tone, pushing the bear aside and collapsing onto you earning an,

“Oof” from you as you wrapped your arms around him,

“I think I’m ready to talk about it all now” he says as he lays his head against your chest, looking up at you with puppy eyes. You feel all your worries of this plan being a disaster fall away from his words,

“Well go on, I’m listening” with a long, tired sigh he begins to explain everything. The horrors, the betrayals, the losses he endured to make it home. You kept quiet and let him talk about it. Your hands massaging his scalp to comfort him. Once he was done, he lifted himself up from you to look into your eyes,

“I really am sorry for shutting you out. I was just.. afraid of burdening you”

“What you go through, I want to go through it with you. I wish you understood that, that’s what I mean when I say I love you”

“I understand that now.” He begins to say, “we’re a team right?”

“Exactly, you’re so smart” your compliment causes him to blush and smile,

“What was it you said about doing something later?” He says endearingly,

“I said maybe”

“Is it more of a yes than a no kind of maybe or…” he responds suggestively, pressing himself against you making you blush slightly, “Because I think I owe you something in return for all of this, princess”

“If it frees your conscience, sure” wrapping your arms around his neck you lean forward and share a kiss with your lover. Feeling his smile curve against your own, it was safe to say Operation: Pamper Condor One was a success.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil drabble #resident evil imagines #leon resident evil #heart day #so this is love #mwuah mwuah mwuah #Spotify

[kawaii-queen-kaiju]

🎵I have died in your arms tonight🎵

Angel of Death/Jason Todd AU

(Prev. Chapter)

All throughout the lecture Jason and Lea passed notes back and forth, like giggling teenagers in high school, and Jason was not embarrassed in the slightest. Who cares if he's blushing like a schoolboy, heart going a mile a minute just talking with a pretty girl? A pretty, smart girl, who laughed at his macabre jokes and made her own. Sue him. When the class finished, she smirked and passed him one last note, before slipping out the door. He was disappointed for a moment, before he realized what was on the small strip of paper. Her phone number.

(No, he did not do a little dance, you have no proof.)

He programmed the number into his phone, flip-flopping on the name. He eventually decided on just 'Lea'. He'd change it later, after their coffee date. Holy shit, he had a date! Take that, Dickface.

He quickly changed out of the plain getup he had on for sitting in the dim college classroom, and into something more presentable, yet still casual… a t-shirt and jeans would be fine, right? Across the room, on his nightstand, his phone dinged. It would have to be. She sent him the address for an overpriced little coffee shop on the Gotham U campus. Perfect.

He walked into the small cafe, noting the absence of a certain angel woman. So, he ordered his drink and sat in an easily visible booth, trying to keep his bat-paranoia in check. She wouldn't stand him up, would she? She seemed interested in class… what if it was an act?

The bell above the door rang and he looked up on instinct. His mind stopped in its tracks, frozen on the sight in front of him. Lea seemed to have had the same idea he did, now wearing something different than an hour before. Her oversized, black sweater came to her knees, over top of fishnets and Doc Martins. She had a pile of necklaces around her neck, and her braids were pulled back, revealing heavily pierced ears. The rare Gotham sunlight came in behind her, shrouding her in a halo of light.

She spotted him and smiled, only adding to the divine comparison in his head. "Just Jason!"

He chuckled a little, the sound dying in his throat as she approached. "You look beautiful." He blurted out, embarrassed but not dissuaded. "Like an angel."

Her eyes twinkled with mirth. "Why, thank you. You're not so bad yourself, handsome."

Yes, his face was on fire. So what? He cleared his throat. "So, what do you want to drink?"

Her face brightened, like a kid on Christmas. "Coffee. One of my siblings brought me some once and I've been dying to have it again." He raised an eyebrow, laughing a little. "Right."

She repeated her order to the barista at the counter, who looked at Lea with less amusement than Jason. The barista rolled her hand, beckoning Lea to continue. "Yes, but what do you want?"

Lea frowned, confused. "I want coffee. Jason, I'm speaking English, right?"

The barista's eyebrows shot into her hairline, and Jason muffled his laugh in his hand. He glanced down at Lea, expecting literally any other emotion to be present on her face. She was looking at him, concerned and confused, hand hovering over his back. Jason straightened up, turning back to the offended woman behind the counter. "She'll have a black coffee. Sorry about that." He slid a hundred to her and quickly walked Lea back to their table.

"What was that?" He asked, huffing a small laugh. She frowned (still looking gorgeous while doing so). "She was misunderstanding me, and I was worried I was speaking the wrong language."

Jason nodded, remembering some of Damian's moments like that. More often than not, it was insulting, but sometimes…

"English isn't your first language." He realized, looking on the encounter from moments prior differently. She shook her head. "No. Far from it actually."

"I get it. My little brother's first language isn't English either."

She looked at him with wide eyes. "You have siblings?"

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Hundreds of 'em." He joked. She blinded smiled at him. "Me too!"

"Older or younger?"

"Both." She groaned. "They're so annoying, and only one of them has visited me in thousands of years!" He's never heard that metaphor before. Maybe a phrase in her language? "Can't relate. I wish mine would just leave me alone."

She looked at him with sad eyes, looking ages older than she actually was (then again, so did he sometimes). "No, you don't." He blinked at the tone shift, but the moment was ruined by the barista calling Lea's coffee order. He got up and grabbed the cup, coming back to her looking herself again. "Here." He handed her the drink and she stared at it with hearts in her eyes (no, he was not jealous of a coffee cup, that's ridiculous).

She took a sip and her face scrunched up, looking like Tim when Jason managed to catch him in a sleep-deprived state and trick him into biting a lemon. "Ugh! What is that?!"

He stifled a laugh, disguising it as a cough. "Coffee." She shook her head, glaring at the cardboard cup like it had personally offended her. "No, coffee is delicious. That is infernal." She growled.

He let himself laugh this time, offering her his cooling cup. "Why don't you try this?"

She peered into it warily, comparing the contents of both. "They look the same…" She glanced at him, and slowly brought the drink to her lips. She took a sip and her eyes widened, sips turning into gulps. She tipped back the whole cup, impressing Jason.

When she brought it away from her mouth, she wasn't even panting, licking her lips. "That was better. Not quite what Gabriel brought, but definitely better than," She glared at her own cup, "that."

Jason leaned back in his seat, amused by her reaction. "If you think that's good, wait 'til you try it with chocolate."

(Next Chapter)

#so many words #batman fanfiction #batman #jason todd #angel of death #Angel of Death/Jason Todd #college student jason todd #coffee date #anyone who drinks plain black coffee for the taste is psychotic #tags suck

[newshirtonlines-blog]

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#SueBirdLegendBasketballSignatureVintageRetro80sshirt

[maemusicmelody]

you're such a lovely person and it's amazing that despite all the bad in the world, you're still out there radiating positivity. keep being unstoppable

IM CRY THANK YOU SO MUCH THIS MADE MY DAY. Everyone has bad days, including myself, but I just hope everyone finds that reason to smile everyday   Ganbaruby everyone!!!

#Anonymous #doodles #marcy #here is a doodle of myself very very sketchy #i like oversized sweaters sue me #anime #asq

[anxious-logic]

The Sides of a Haunting

Inspired by that one post on here that’s like “what if Nico thinks Thomas is haunted but it’s actually just the sides”

I ended up changing it a little bit from the post because I liked my version better

Warnings: Ghost mention, haunting mention, Virgil swears a little, Janus and Remus aren’t unsympathetic but they’re not really sympathetic either, they’re just hanging out

Word count: 2832 (this is what happens when I don’t set arbitrary deadlines for myself)

Summary:  Nico’s pretty sure Thomas is haunted. Weird things keep happening around him - things that can’t be explained in this realm of existence. But does Nico really want to deal with another existential crisis?

Something was going on with Thomas.

The first time Nico had come over to Thomas’s house, he’d noticed a few weird things; Thomas kept whispering to himself (what Nico could hear sounded like one side of a conversation) and he would look at something, blink, and then it’d move. Originally, he’d just put it down to nervousness; both of them were tense at the situation, so his mind must have been playing tricks on him.

But then as they had gotten to know each other better and spending more time together, he’d noticed more… weird things.

He’d see some items float in front of him for a minute, before Thomas would hiss something, and then the floating thing would either drop suddenly or vanish altogether. Nico would knock on Thomas’s bathroom door because he’d been in there for a long time, and he would hear Thomas shushing somebody.

Then there would be the times when Thomas’s hair or clothes would move, when they were inside without any significant air flow. His hair would ruffle itself, sometimes, or his shirt would straighten. Sometimes his collar would turn the right way out, or his pants would even out.

Even weirder, he’d occasionally see something out of the corner of his eye. A flash of purple, usually, although sometimes it was red. Once he’d seen light blue, and then yellow right after that.

And then there were the reflections.

He’d be walking with Thomas outside, and he’d notice their reflection in one of the windows of the shops. Except it wasn’t just him and Thomas – there were other people, too, who looked almost identical to Thomas except for very small differences. But then he’d look again, and they’d disappear. It happened in mirrors, windows, he even could have sworn he saw something in his phone camera once.

And then!

There were six people that Thomas kept mentioning – Virgil, Roman, Patton, Logan, Janus, and Remus. He barely mentioned Janus, and Remus even less than that, but he’d say something about how “Patton said” this, and “Logan would say” that, and “Virgil would love” something that Nico had said, and “Roman thinks” Disney is the ultimate franchise.

The thing was… he mentioned them almost more than he mentioned some of his other friends, and Nico had never met them. Thomas hadn’t mentioned anything about them living far away; there had been no FaceTimes that Nico was aware of; and yet, Thomas would bring up something that one of them had said “yesterday” or “last week” or even “earlier today”.

So, yeah, something was going on.

If he didn’t know better, he’d say that Thomas was… haunted, maybe. Except that Thomas seemed to be very familiar with these… ghosts, for lack of a better term; from what Nico could figure, when Thomas was in the bathroom, he was talking to them. He didn’t sound scared (at least not most of the time).

So yeah, Nico was confused. And he wasn’t sure if he… wanted to bring this up with Thomas. It would be nice, sure, to know what was going on with him, but he didn’t want to deal with an existential crisis if the explanation was something… otherworldly.

Sue him, he’d had an existential crisis when he figured out he was gay. One was enough to tide him over until he was at least fifty.

Nico rocked back and forth on his feet as he waited for Thomas to open the door. They were going to hang out for a bit today – Nico had suggested going on a picnic, but Thomas said he wasn’t sure if he was up for a more formal outing, so they might just be staying in and watching movies together.

Suddenly, he heard voices from inside. He perked up, absentmindedly checking that his hair and clothes were in order.

“We’re going to scare him away,” Nico heard, muffled through the door. The voice was deep and forceful.

“No we won’t, kiddo!” another voice said. This one was lighter, more bubbly.

“We can’t continue leading him on,” a loud voice added. Well, louder than the rest of them.

“Falsehood.”

Nico was surprised by how close this voice was. He stepped back from where his ear was pressed up to the door, whirling his arms to try to avoid falling down the steps.

It didn’t work.

The voices inside the house went silent as Nico crashed down the steps, rattling the railing on the steps and groaning as he hit the bottom. There was a second when everything went quiet, and then someone opened the door.

Even though he looked identical to Thomas, something about him just felt… different. He was wearing glasses, for one thing, which Nico had never seen before. He was wearing a black polo shirt, and a blue necktie (which… well, Nico was pretty sure Thomas would only put on a necktie if there was a reason, and a date with him was not something that would fall under that category).

“Are you injured?” the stranger asked. Nico blinked as his brain short-circuited as another person appeared behind the stranger. This one was also identical to Thomas and also wearing glasses, but had on a light blue polo and a gray cardigan tied around his shoulders.

“Oh, kiddo, are you okay? Is anything broken?”

Nico shook his head slowly, propping himself up on his forearms. “…Nothing’s broken, no.”

The man in the tie nodded. “Optimal. Thomas?”

Then Thomas pushed past the two men in the doorway, his face panicked. He ran down the front steps, crouching in front of Nico.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” he asked, his hands fluttering over Nico.

“I’m fine,” Nico said. He could feel a soft smile spreading across his face – they’d been dating for three whole months, and he still couldn’t help turning into a smitten preteen around Thomas.

“Here,” Thomas said, offering a hand to help Nico up. Nico took it, lacing his fingers with Thomas’s when they stood up.

He was interrupted by a squealing noise coming from the doorway. Another man was standing there, this time without glasses. He was wearing a white jacket with gold braiding, with a red sash laying diagonally across his chest. He was the source of the noise, and was bouncing up and down and flapping his hands.

Thomas’s eyes widened, and he gave panicked glances to Nico and the men in the doorway. “Um,” he said. His breathing increased.

“Fuck,” came from the doorway. Nico looked up to see a man in an oversized hoodie and black eyeshadow under his eyes breathing quickly, his hands shaking.

Sweater turned around to face Eyeshadow. “Oh, c’mon kiddo, it’ll be okay,” he said. “Let’s all go inside, and get this figured out, okay?” He hustled Tie, Sash, and Eyeshadow inside. “We’ll be inside when you’re ready, okay Thomas?” he called behind him.

“…Okay,” Thomas said, his voice quiet. He was staring at the sidewalk, his free hand fidgeting with the material of his pants.

“You wanna introduce me to those people?” Nico asked, squeezing Thomas’s hand. He tried to make the question not too accusatory or nosey – just… an opening, if Thomas wanted.

Thomas blew out a breath, nodding to himself once. “Sure,” he said. He seemed to be steeling himself, or planning something.

He walked Nico up the steps, opening the door for him. Nico stepped in, putting his bag down next to the door. As he turned around, he was surprised to see the four people standing in Thomas’s living room.

Tie was standing just a few feet away from where Nico was right now, his hands clasped behind him. Sweater was standing in front of the back window, his hands on his hips. Sash was in front of the TV, his arms crossed and a pouty look on his face. Nico could barely see another person – Eyeshadow, maybe? – sitting on the stairs, sprawled out.

Thomas gently tugged Nico to the couch, where they sat down. The other four men looked at Thomas attentively.

“How would you like to approach this, Thomas?” Tie asked expectantly. Sash rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything.

“Just- let me handle it, for now,” Thomas said, taking a shaky breath. He closed his eyes, then shifted to face Nico, holding both of his hands.

“So… Nico…” he started, his voice hesitant. Nico nodded encouragingly. “So, this is kinda weird. But… this is Patton,” Sweater waved, “Roman,” Sash bowed to Nico, “Virgil,” Eyeshadow gave a two-fingered salute, “and Logan,” Tie gave a polite nod. “They’re… aspects of my personality. That I can manifest. Into people. That can affect the real world.”

Nico blinked, thinking about it. He looked up at the other four people. Sweater – Patton – had a… hopeful look on his face. Roman looked like he was preparing for ultimate failure, and Virgil had a look in his eyes like he was ready to run. Logan was simply staring at Nico, his face impassive.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Aspects of your personality – who’s what, then?”

All of the others immediately brightened – although Nico noticed that Logan seemed to tamp down his excitement quickly, returning to a neutral expression.

“I’m Thomas’s Morality!” Patton exclaimed happily. “I help him figure out what’s right and wrong, I tell dad jokes, and I try to keep the spirits up!”

“I’m his Creativity,” Roman said, then paused. A strange expression crossed his face, before he shook his head quickly and continued. “I help Thomas think of video ideas and help him with his parts in acting productions. I’m also a… manifestation of the ego, and am a part of his romantic feelings-”

“I’m his Anxiety,” Virgil interrupted. “’Nuff said.”

Logan adjusted his tie. “I am a manifestation of his Logic,” he said. “I am in possession of a majority of his knowledge, as well as the one in charge of monitoring his diet, water intake, and sleep schedule.”

Nico nodded at the introductions, mentally taking notes on all of them. Then he remembered.

“Oh – I remember, you talked about… Janus? And Remus? Are they… the same thing? Or, um. Types of people? I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s offensive.”

Thomas gave a little smile, then sighed. “Uh… yeah. I don’t… really… talk to them as much as these four, but yeah.”

“Would you like to meet them?” Logan asked.

“Why?!” Roman exclaimed. “It doesn’t- If Thomas doesn’t talk to them much, then why should Nico meet them…?” He trailed off as Logan raised his eyebrows at him.

“They are parts of Thomas, and Nico wants to know Thomas better. Is that correct?” Logan turned to Nico for confirmation.

“Yeah, I’d say that,” Nico said slowly.

“Perfect. Therefore, it makes the most sense that Nico meets Janus and Remus now, rather than putting it off.”

Thomas bit his lip. “Okay, I think- I think I’m going to say that Janus is my Deceit, he’s in charge of… basically, when I lie and what I do to lie? And Remus is… the other side of Creativity. He has… the thoughts I don’t like to think about. And the creative things that I just… generally don’t like.”

Nico nodded, squeezing Thomas’s hand sympathetically. “Okay,” he said. “I mean- you don’t have to introduce me, if you don’t want, but I’d love to if you’re open to it.”

Thomas took a deep breath, and nodded. He gestured with his hand twice, once towards Roman and once towards Logan. A person suddenly appeared next to each of them. Roman’s neighbor was dressed in a sparkly black shirt with a green sash – almost the exact opposite of Roman’s outfit. Logan’s was dressed in a dramatic overcoat and a half-cape, with yellow gloves and a hat.

“This is Remus,” Thomas introduced, wincing as he gestured at Roman’s partner, “and this is Janus.” He gestured at the dramatic-looking man next to Logan.

“Hello,” Janus said smoothly. “It is… wonderful to meet Thomas’s new… infatuation.”

Nico frowned a little bit, but Roman jumped in before he could think about that sentence too hard. “He is not an infatuation! He is Thomas’s wonderful, incredible, talented boyfriend, and we-”

Roman cut himself off, looking at Thomas. They were both blushing immensely.

“We care for him very much,” he concluded, looking down and away from everyone else. It seemed like there was more that he wanted to say, but he didn’t continue.

“I certainly care for him one way…” Remus put in, wiggling his eyebrows and shimmying his shoulders. Nico saw Virgil wince, and Roman gave Remus an offended look.

“As much fun as this was, Thomas, Remus and I have… things to go back to,” Janus said suddenly. He sunk into the floor to disappear, allowing Logan to step back into his place.

“I’ll see you later tonight, Thomas!” Remus giggled, wiggling his fingers at Thomas before sinking down as well.

Thomas winced. “Well, that was… an experience,” he said. He looked up nervously to meet Nico’s eyes. “Are you… okay…? With this?”

Nico nodded. “Of course,” he said. “I can’t say I… completely understand it, yet. But I’m not going to… break up with you, or something, over this.”

Virgil let out a deep breath from his spot on the stairs, surprising Nico a little bit. “Okay, now that that’s been determined, I’m going to go back to my room. Bye.” He sunk through the stairs and disappeared, leaving Nico blinking at the place he had been sitting.

“Sorry about that, kiddo,” Patton said, drawing Nico’s attention. “He’s a little… high-strung, sometimes – not that that’s a bad thing! – so he needs some… relaxing time, sometimes.”

Nico gave Patton a tiny smile. “I understand,” he said.

“I am going to check up on Virgil,” Logan announced. “Thomas, I hope this has helped your inner dilemma. Roman, I will talk to you in,” he checked his watch, “three hours and twenty-seven minutes.”

He sunk out as well, leaving Nico and Thomas with only Roman and Patton.

“I… very much enjoyed the chance to meet you,” Roman said, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I am going to prepare for my meeting with Logan now.”

“Bye,” Nico said, giving Roman a tiny wave.

“Sounds good,” Thomas said, giving Roman a smile.

Roman went away as the others had, his hands positioned dramatically.

“It was really nice to meet you in person, kiddo,” Patton said, looking towards Nico. “I liked seeing you hang out with Thomas when I was invisible, but it’s not quite the same, is it? Anyway, I’m going to leave you two alone, and let you talk for a little bit. See you later!”

Nico blinked rapidly as Patton sunk down, processing what he said.

“Wait,” he said, meeting Thomas’s eyes. “Were they- following us? On our dates?”

Thomas rubbed the back of his neck (just like Roman had, Nico noticed). “Um… yeah, I don’t… I don’t know what to say. They like to come out and see things in their body instead of just… in my head, I guess?” He laughed uncomfortably. “They’d… follow behind, sometimes. Give me… advice, on what to do.”

Nico leaned forward, intrigued. “Did you… follow it?”

Thomas tilted his head back and forth. “That… depends on the situation and who was out. Roman? Usually not. Logan? Usually yes, unless it was… very directly asking you to copulate with me, in which case I didn’t.”

Nico let out an embarrassingly high-pitched giggle. “Copulate?”

“Uhhh… yeah. He’s not the best with social interaction, but I love him anyway.”

Nico smiled, squeezing Thomas’s hands. They sat in silence for a few moments, before Nico had a realization.

“You’re not haunted!”

Thomas looked at him like he had grown two extra heads, a spare foot, and half an arm. “What?”

“Well, I kept seeing things in mirrors and reflections. And then there were floating things that just… disappeared, or things that moved by themselves. Or sometimes I’d hear you shushing people or talking to someone in the bathroom, or your hair and clothes would move when there wasn’t a breeze.”

Thomas’s eyes widened, before he threw his head back to laugh. “Oh, that’s hilarious,” he said. “I never thought about that, gosh!”

Nico found himself unable to stop the grin spreading across his face at Thomas’s laugh.

“Really, though,” Thomas said once he had calmed down a little. “Thank you for… being so okay with the whole thing.”

“Of course,” Nico said, leaning forward just a little to get his point across. “I don’t care.”

“It’s just- I’ve thought through a lot of different scenarios, and none of them turn out very well, and it was… honestly really nice to have someone respond positively to the sides.”

“Sides?”

“Oh, it’s – it’s what we call them. They’re sides of my personality. Sanders Sides?”

Nico gave a little giggle. “That’s clever,” he said.

Thomas perked up, with a tiny, hopeful smile on his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Nico squeezed his hand. “I like that.”

#ts spoilers #ts fanfic #ts thomas #ts nico #karrot kings #ts roman #ts virgil #ts patton #ts logan #i can write sometimes

[k-llama-llama]

Madame

BTS AU: 8th member

Sumi x BTS

Despite how well they know her, Sumi still manages to surprise BTS

A/N: sorry this is so late! Check out my PATREON (patreon.com/kllamallama) for exclusive content. This post was available a month ago for those on my patreon.

Requests are OPEN.Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!

“Do we have the rights to that song?” Sumi asked, leaning back in her chair.

“We’re working on it.” Namjoon told her.

“But we still have a lot of our own songs to work on in the meantime.” Yoongi pointed out. “So we don’t need to stress about it.”

“I’m not stressed. Who’s stressed?” Sumi smiled.

Namjoon turned back to the screen. They were in the middle of their big planning meeting for their upcoming album, trying to finalize the songs that were going to make the cut. Sumi hadn’t been very active in writing for the past few comebacks, so she was mostly just giving her two cents every few minutes and waiting until they moved onto the concept portion. 

“Are we going to order lunch?” Jin asked.

“Yes, please.” Jimin sighed. “I’m starving.”

“Do we want noodles?” Jin pulled out his phone.

“Salad for me, thanks.” Sumi winked. “I’m on a diet.”

“Really?” Taehyung looked her up and down. “You ate a whole pizza at movie night on Monday.”

“Your point?” Sumi rolled her eyes.

“Can we get back to the actual point of this meeting?” Namjoon asked.

“Right, sure.” Sumi gestured to the screen. “Songs. Let’s go.”

“You’re bored, aren’t you?” He sighed.

“Maybe.” She glanced at the maknae. “Kookie, grape me.”

Jungkook tossed the grape with expert precision, and Sumi caught it in her mouth, giving him a wink.

“You’re being especially childish today.” Hobi shook his head.

“I learned from the best.” She grinned. “But seriously, Oppa, order lunch. Keep going with the meeting.”

She managed to keep herself mostly focused for the rest of the meeting, only breaking her concentration to catch the grapes Jungkook tossed her way behind Namjoon’s back. Even though she hadn’t participated in writing any of the songs, she was really excited for what was on the album. There were vocal parts that she was really excited about, and she was looking forward to a change in sound.

“Is that my sweater?” Taehyung asked.

Sumi glanced down at her outfit. She’d stolen the oversized cardigan from his closet when she’d visited the apartment, and paired it with a tight corduroy skirt. “Yeah? Look cute, right?”

“I think that’s a sign that we need a break.” Namjoon closed his laptop screen.

“Hyung, did you order lunch?” Jungkook asked Jin.

“It says twenty minutes until delivery.” Jin answered. “They probably had to go pick the vegetables because only a psychopath orders a salad from a noodle place.”

“You need to back off.” Sumi shook her head. “I just want to-“

A knock sounded at the door.

“Food’s early?” Hobi exclaimed.

“They wouldn’t come all the way up to this floor.” Namjoon pointed out. “Come in!”

A familiar face opened the door, hurrying right for Sumi.

“I’m so sorry for interrupting!” She exclaimed, holding out a phone. “It’s an emergency.”

“Is that one of our managers?” Jin whispered to Yoongi.

“Min-ji, Sumi’s assistant.” Yoongi replied.

“What’s wrong?” Sumi asked, sitting up in her chair.

Min-ji covered the receiver, speaking quickly. “The online retailer is saying that they’re owed 30% of the proceeds.”

“Bullshit.” Sumi exclaimed. “We signed a contract.”

“They’re saying that it wasn’t clear and so that-“

“Give me that.” Sumi snatched the phone. “Hello?”

“Hello. Who am I speaking to?”

“Lee Sumi. The CEO of the company you’re trying to scam.” She hissed into the receiver.

“Look ma’am, the contract didn’t explicitly state that –“

“It did. Do you have the contract in front of you?” She stood up.

“No, do you?”

“I’m about to.” She gestured at Namjoon’s laptop.

He slid the computer over and Min-ji started typing quickly, going through Sumi’s email.

“All we’re asking for is our fair share of-“

“You’re getting payed for your contribution to this launch, as stated on the contract we both signed. And then I’m sueing you, and then I’m never working with you again.”

“Sumi, this has been incredibly profitable for the both of us. It would be a shame to-“

“It’s about to be a lot less profitable for you, and it’s Miss Lee. We’re not friends.” She leaned close to look at the contract, and then glanced at Min-ji.

“Is this being recorded?” She mouthed.

Min-ji nodded.

Sumi smirked. “Alright. Well, I have the contract here and we’ve recorded this entire conversation where you attempted to violate our contract. You’ll be hearing from our lawyers.”

“Miss Lee!”

“Have a nice day.” Sumi hung up the phone.

“What a dick.” She rolled her eyes.

“They seemed sketch when we signed with them.” Min-ji sighed.

“But Bighit recommended them.” Sumi shook her head. “Start figuring out new retailers and get a statement on my desk as soon as possible. I’ll come by when I finish up here.”

“Alright, see you then.” Min-ji bowed, already holding her phone back up to her ear as she walked out of the room.

Sumi logged out of her email, closing the screen as she looked up.

The boys were all staring at her.

“What?” She asked.

“Miss Lee?” Jimin looked like he was trying not to laugh.

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

“You have lawyers?” Namjoon asked.

“I’m about to.” She pulled out her phone. “That idiot should know better than to try and back out of a contract with me.”

“You’re actually going to sue him?” Jungkook asked, looking unsure.

Sumi shrugged. “If I have to. Urgh..30%, who is he kidding?”

“Is 30% a lot of money?” Yoongi asked.

“The original deal gave them 10.” Sumi explained. “Even I’m not making 30%. There’s production, marketing, I have to pay my employees…and I can’t do that if people are trying to cheat me out of my earnings.”

“Did your launch do well?” Hobi asked. “I mean…we know it was well-received, but did it do well in sales?”

Sumi nodded. “Sold out. And we’re working on a restock. And in the meantime we’re working on our next collection and some other stuff.”

“Other stuff?” Jimin asked.

Sumi tilted her head. “Clothes. Perfume. Nothing’s set in stone yet but we’re looking at lots of options.”

“This is really turning into a serious company, isn’t it?” Jungkook seemed surprised.

“Of course.” Sumi slid Namjoon’s laptop back across the table. “I’m building something that’s going to last. It’s not just a spur of the moment thing.”

“Noona,” Taehyung playfully leaned his head onto her shoulder. “Can I collab with your company?”

“Don’t call me Noona.” She shoved him away. “And sure. Maybe. But no one is collabing with anyone until I get my lunch.”

“It’s a salad, it’s not lunch.” Jin shook his head. “It’s going beyond a diet, clearly I failed to raise you right if you’re eating salad by choice.”

Sumi crossed her arms. “I run my own company and I’m a global bestselling artist but you failed to raise me?”

“The food is more important.” Jin sighed. “When I come over for dinner next I’m making you something fatty and unhealthy.”

“Fine. But you get to deal with my mood swings after I eat it.”

“Nah, I leave that to your boyfriend.”

#bts #bts imagines #bts au #bts 8th member #female kpop #female member kpop #female!kpop #requests open #au #kpop #imagines #imagine #kpop au #kpop imagines #kpop imagine

[fastbreakpoints]

JAYLEN BROWN'S TOP 10 OUTFITS OF THE 2020-21 SEASON, according to me (again lol)

i am BACK on my bullshit, but this time ranking jaylen's outfits of the season -- which is basically me analyzing sweatpants for 10 pics because the man sure does like to be cozy. again, nothing abt this post is based on true fashion knowledge. i'm just here for the vibes lol

you can see jayson's top 10 here!

10. at brooklyn, game 1

something abt the oversized sweatshirt w the rolled up sleeves and the oversized t-shirt underneath and the oversized sweatpants really, truly speaks to me. iconic depression outfit but make it celtics green instead lol

--

9. vs dallas

i'm not gonna lie, there were at least 7 variations of this same outfit in the JB 2021 outfits folder lol this one won out bc i like the black and green color combination and the lightning on his thigh and the way these sweatpants are like, slightly more fitted but still very cozy <3

--

8. at golden state

where 2 cop the t-shirt bestie!!! i love this outfit bc it epitomizes something that @swinginsportscutebasketball has very wisely pointed out to me and in the tags of a post that i can't find right now, which is that jaylen is the "i Do Not wish to be perceived" to jayson's "i have to be the most fuckable person on the grocery store basketball team" fashion style lol

--

7. at milwaukee

birb sweater birb sweater!!!! i feel like this outfit was like, THE staple jaylen brown fit for the season: a very soft sweatshirt and very cozy sweatpants, majorly composed by earth/neutral tones. in the words of @knicksknacks​, “the man likes to be cozy, sue him!!!!!!!”

--

6. at new orleans

again, where 2 cop the shirt (and the bucket hat) bestie!!!! this is another fit for the "i Do Not wish to be perceived" category. like literally. u can't even see his face. strong summer goth bf vibes on this one

--

5. at san antonio

this one DESTROYS ME every time i see it because GRAD STUDENT JAYLEN VIBES!!!!!!!! on his way 2 class!!!!!!! i LOVE his plain beige boring oversized sweater AND his slim fitted dark green pants that are NOT sweatpants for ONCE!!!! cute. I love u my king

--

4. vs lakers

this one is a 4 on the "i Do Not wish to be perceived" scale but only because the jacket is literally. royal blue and yellow. it would be a solid 10 otherwise probably. i love how cozy he looks in his beanie and his cal varsity jacket :(((( also, the way his pants are so long that the fabric is all?? bunched up around his ankles??? why are ur pants so wrongly sized jaylen lol

--

3. vs brooklyn (i think?)

the PEARLS!!!!! the SALMON PINK kicks!!!!!! the sweater!!!! his usual oversized sweatpants!!!!! the golden bears cap!!!!! he LOVES being cozy!!! I love him :(

--

2. at brooklyn, game 5

picture THIS: jaylen and his SWEATER PAWS on the BENCH. trying not to feel sorry for himself and BE THERE for his teammates. devastatingly handsome and UNABLE to HELP. god I truly am the worst. anyway here's what I love abt this fit: the hoodie, which manages to be both colorful and still right up his slightly goth emo bf alley somehow, and his yellow converse kicks???? who ARE YOU. I love him

--

1. all-star game

baby's first all-star game!!!! this outfit got #1 mostly bc of the Emotional Significance it has but also because of how cozy and like, put together he looks at same time, if that makes sense? like, the combination of the beige sweatpants and beige socks and slightly oversized shirt with the structured lines of the cropped (!) blazer is very Good to me? i don't know??? it just occurred me that this is basically. jaylen's take on jayson's turtleneck/sweatpants fit. like literally the earth toned, shorter coat version of it. prove me wrong. u Can't lol

#this is completely deranged oh my god I'm so sorry lol #his outfits were way easier to rank tbh it just took me a while because i couldn't bring myself to write uhh anything #but it's here now!!! i did it #honorable mentions: the butterfly pants (jayson wore them better lol sorry jaylen but not really) and the big orange red coat w the beige #oversized sweatsuit he wore to one of the philly games #sorry again if i missed any personal favorites!!! #the jays top 10 outfits of the season #* #jaylen brown #league fits

[babytsum]

wanna be - m. atsumu

friends to lovers atsumu fluff because i said so.

warnings: none, just unedited so might be a lil sloppy lol, mention of konoha x reader (they go on like one date)

word count: 3.5k

wanna be by the internet (2018)

he remembers you from onigiri miya.

your baggy jeans, loose t shirt, eyebags. he remembers it all down to the way you stuffed your face with onigiris to the neon lights the shined outside. you were pretty, but he was indifferent. after all, he was miya atsumu, a player both on and off the court.

to you, he was miya atsumu, osamu's brother. and miya osamu was simply a friend who owned a restaurant and understood the crushing pressure of being a student with a part time job that struggled to pay rent. besides, one day you'd pay him back because you were one smart cookie, though he didn't know in what way. however, he did notice how atsumu made an effort to avoid eye contact while you introduced yourself. he didn't miss the color that made its way to his cheeks when you held your hand out for him to shake.

and he sees you again waiting outside his team's gym after practice.

that day, your hair was tied back. you wore a long coat that went down to your calves and loose black clothing under it. did you always wear loose clothes? you smiled and waved in his direction and his heart skipped a beat. he waved back excitedly until he turned around and saw hinata jumping up and down at the sight of your happy self. turns out, you were karasuno's manager in high school. atsumu, usually confident and cheerful, now sunk into his sweater while his teammate introduced you to the rest of the group.

"i know atsumu. i met him at onigiri miya a few weeks ago."

he nodded as you spoke. he barely knew you, but your presence had a significant effect on him, one that was beyond what he can describe.

so maybe he goes over to his brother's restaurant more, once or twice a week.

"so, how do you know hinata?" stupid question. hinata literally told everyone like a week ago.

"i went to karasuno and became the team manager for their volleyball team," you answered anyways, how sweet of you, "i actually got to see you and osamu play at nationals. that's where i first met him."

all of the sudden, atsumu wishes that he paid more attention to the pretty managers of the opposing teams. although, he does thank whatever higher power is out there that he got to meet you at some point and curses osamu for not telling him about you at all.

"i didn't know you knew (y/n) in high school."

"what do you mean?"

"i just didn't know that she was a team manager and all that, you know? i feel kind of bad for not knowing she existed."

"oh she definitely existed. who do you think i made extra bento boxes for when we went to tokyo?"

"those weren't mine?"

hinata invites you to watch him practice and he doesn't know if its a curse or a blessing.

on the one hand, you can see all of his talented sets and gameplay. on the other, he usually reached peak idiot during practices, at least that's what sakusa would tell him.

that's not going to stop you from sitting down and letting out a cheer for hinata's, and even bokuto's, spikes. you knew that shoyo and kotaro loved the support they got. it gave them motivation, made them perform better. of course, the team wouldn't mind that.

atsumu just wishes he got a few cheers or smiles from you.

the next time you see him, he's sucking face with some hot model with a drink in hand at a party that shoyo brought you to. you weren't surprised. you were close enough to osamu to hear him rant about his brothers antics, so you brush it off like usual when seeing two people getting a little busy. after all, you were here to take a break from studying

by the middle of the party, you're tipsy and cheering on bokuto who was shaking ass to hot girl summer. hinata is passed out on the couch in a fetal position while kageyama sits down and stuffs his face with rice. osamu joins him and witnesses the mess that is you and bokuto. atsumu looks disheveled and everyone already knows why, all of you just hope that the room he went to earlier was not the master bedroom.

"tsumuuuuu," you slurred as you spoke, a happy smile plastered on your face, "you're a manwhoreeeeee."

"what?"

"i'm joking, but also not," you kissed the tip of his nose, "you're a very nice boy."

he didn't know whether to be offended or flustered, especially with the combination of your little antics and the alcohol in his system, which only resulted in a strong of incoherent words that entertained osamu.

"man, i really wish you met her in high school. she was way worse." kageyama added, memories of you blatantly flirting with your close friends for fun.

"she really was. i believe the first thing she ever said to suna was 'holy fuck, how do you look so fucking hot while shoving those jelly sticks in your mouth?'" osamu laughed, the image of his teammate's red face playing in his mind, "the (y/n) you know is more tame, a stressed college student with a low alcohol tolerance."

you gave bokuto's ass another smack as you giggled at the way his ass jiggled. having athletic friends is fun, especially when the stress from your graduate studies needs to be relieved and their pro player money literally prevents you from paying for your own food. you were lucky.

the day after, you drive to the gym you knew they would be practicing at. of course, sakusa had the common sense to not drink the night before practice. his other three teammates did not.

atsumu is the first one to spot you, a big bag in hand, your hair tied back, another pair of loose jeans and a plain t shirt. it's more different from the flattering plants and small top you wore last night, but he wonders how you can look like this after a night of drunken fun. it was almost like you were glowing.

hinata greeted you first, taking your bag and thanking you for the food.

"are your heads okay?"

"i think i died last night."

"you die every time there's alcohol at a party, shoyo."

"hey!"

sakusa snickered while the rest tried their best to hide their laughs. you weren't wrong, though. shoyo does end up passing out on someone's couch after some energetic dancing.

"what about you, tsumu?"

"i don't remember anything that happened except for bo's ass."

"not even the hot blonde girl?"

"the what?" again, everyone failed to contain their laughs.

"you manwhore!" you chuckled, handing him his bento box.

"you should have seen how red he got when you kissed his nose!" bokuto chimed in.

"i did that?" your smile faded, "sorry, if i made you uncomfortable, tsumu."

"it's okay, i don't remember it." he lied.

the memory replayed in his mind again and a foreign feeling came over him. it was warm.

the next time he sees you, you're at osamu's house to taste test his new food. it's osamu's classic duo, his dear brother that loves to freeload off of him and his stressed grad student friend who also likes free food.

when atsumu walks in, you motion for him to sit next to you while stuffing your face. you're wearing baggy clothes again and he's pretty sure that you slept with your makeup still on from the night before.

"osamu, if you keep cooking like this, i think i might marry you."

"gross."

"what's gross about marrying the hotter twin?" you turned to atsumu, a smirk on your face.

"we look exactly alike."

"yeah, but he cooks."

atsumu couldn't argue with that. you were funny. you were always funny and warm even when talking down to him like this. and it made his heart beat faster, his face a little redder, his smile a little brighter.

fuck.

"i can cook."

"yeah, a pack of cup noodles." osamu responded while you chuckled in agreement.

"they're some fire ass cup noodles."

"yeah okay, playboy."

"playboy?"

"do you prefer manwhore?"

"no."

you throw your head back, laughing again at atsumu's expression. for someone who fucks around, he was easy to fluster. and you enjoyed it every time. the way he would look down in an attempt to hide his crimson cheeks, the slight smile that would rest in his face. he was pretty.

it all confirmed osamu's suspicions.

"you guys want to make every sunday a taste test day?"

"yes!" you responded excitedly. more free food? you're there.

"sure."

after osamu packed up some food for the two of you, both of you walked out. the early afternoon sun was scorching and your baggy jeans and oversized hoodie were not helping.

"you wanna get some coffee? i'll pay."

"what are you doing? trying to woo me or something, manwhore?"

"you look like shit and i think it's because you're tired."

"fair. but you have to drive me home first. i need to change and i do not want to walk to the bus stop."

"you didn't drive here?"

"i wanted to take a nap on public transport, sue me."

after a ten minute drive filled with food critiques, you finally made it to your house, quickly changing into some shorts and a t shirt that was actually your size. your raccoon eyes were fixed and you were back in atsumu's car in no time.

"i had no idea you existed up until a few weeks ago."

"nice way to start a conversation, tsumu."

"sorry-"

"you know, when i was karasuno's manager, i thought you were terrifying."

"how?"

"it was after one of your serves, you had this scary look on your face, but i forgot what you were looking at. you scored an ace, though."

"the fangirls."

"huh?"

"it was those squealin pigs that almost messed it up. i remember."

"you call your fangirls pigs?" you scoffed, "you're a whole manwhore." "yeah whatever, (y/n)."

you both went on to reminisce about high school memories, him mostly talking volleyball while you talked about shoyo and tobio being absolute dumbasses. he was interesting, really. his voice was smooth and his tone was always lively, always showing some emotion.

the cafe was mostly empty, a few people scattered around. the bitter taste of coffee met your lips as you hummed with delight.

"what are you looking at?"

"how are you drinking that shit? didn't you order extra espresso shots?"

"yeah, and? i see a ridiculous amount of condensed milk in yours, but i'm not saying anything."

"whatever." he chuckled.

everything was natural, both easing into friendly teasing comfortably. there was always some sort of glint in his eyes, a sly smile whenever he wasn't talking, reddened cheeks whenever you caught him staring.

being friends with miya atsumu was easy.

every sunday was easy. talking to him was easy. thinking about him was easy. a little too easy. and summer becomes fall. and fall becomes winter. and every sunday, there's a new source of energy you find despite your sleep deprived state.

"bo's sending me on a blind date." you tell the twins excitedly.

it's been awhile since you've gone on a proper date. you really haven't had the time for anything except for fooling around at a party once in a while. even if it went nowhere, at least you had something to distract you from the blonde manwhore who's constantly on your mind.

"oh, really?" osamu grinned, "i would have gone a date with you."

"liar. we both remember what happened while you were in school."

"yuck."

atsumu looked between the two of you, the gears turning in his head until it finally clicked.

"you guys went on a date?"

"sadly, yes," you chuckled, "we became closer friends, but that was not the move."

"agreed."

atsumu had already accepted that he had feelings for you. which he suppressed out of embarrassment. he had already accepted that you would have rejected him anyways. you called him a manwhore after all.

"when is it?" he finally asked, jaw clenching. his harsh tone wasn't intentional, but it was there nonetheless.

"next saturday. i'll tell you two about it when we taste test, again."

"you wanna get some milk tea after?"

"no. i have to buy a dress."

"oh."

atsumu watched you walk out the door, a cheerful smile on your face. he felt sick.

and when next sunday comes, you're an hour late.

you looked like you were up all night studying for exams. he recognizes the smudged mascara, the eyebags, the messy hair. except instead of your usual baggy clothes, it's a dress that loosely hugs your figure. he doesn't miss the way your nipples peaked through or the marks on your neck. nasty.

"samu, i'm gonna need more food than usual."

"you got it boss."

the sounds of the kitchen fill the room as you lay your head down. you turn to atsumu, eyes droopy and exhausted.

"you look like you had fun. who did bo hook you up with?"

"his name's konoha. he played for fukurodani back in high school. bo's such a sneaky lil shit."

"how?"

"i may have had a small crush on him in high school when i saw him at a training camp. i told bo and he probably remembered it and thought it was funny."

"nice," he replied, running his fingers through your hair, "are you guys going on another date?"

you closed your eyes, relishing in the feeling of his touch, "i don't think so. it was fun, but i don't think i like him that much anymore."

"ah."

he internally celebrated while osamu rolled his eyes.

and winter turns to spring in atsumu's apartment.

soft white walls, light brown cabinets, a fridge filled with his brother's food. a few photo frames hung around, the most notable once being a photo of osamu stuffing his face when they were kids. the best part was that osamu hated that photo, yet it was also the centerpiece of his table.

you set down the vase of flowers that you were asked to bring. something about making the party feel more "springy" or whatever atsumu said. you were expecting a nice apartment, atsumu was a pro volleyball player of course. but you weren't expecting it to be this nice.

it almost makes you sad. the fact you were constantly exhausted, studying, and stressed while atsumu was the same age having fun and being a playboy. god, this kind of sucks. why the hell was this man friends with you anyways?

"your dress looks so cute!" always count on shoyo to immediately make you feel better.

"you look good even in your big jeans, but you look even cooler?" bo added on, making your cheeks heat up.

while you and sakusa exchanged a small wave, atsumu came out of his room. an unbuttoned short sleeve, white shirt underneath, jeans. wow. god. fuck. and seeing you in the pink dress that flowed around your body, the sleeves being a little puffed, the same train of thoughts ran through his head.

"you needed help setting up?"

"uhm, yeah. can you guys get the plates out and shit?"

"you want us to shit on the plates?"

"shoyo-" you cackled at the confused tangerine headed boy.

it's a good thing you figured it all out before the guests arrived.

seeing kuroo and kenma after so long was refreshing. and the fact akaashi also had a caffeine addiction was comforting. and yachi? she was so grown now. your conversation with the two was interrupted by a tap on your shoulder.

"hey, stranger."

"konoha?"

you gave him a short hug. both of you caught up on the last few months, the situation being less awkward than you expected. it's not like he was trying to get in your pants again, what was the harm in talking? there's nothing wrong with two tired college students having a conversation, right?

suna's voice became distant to atsumu as he observed the blonde across the room. should he go there and save you? his question was quickly answered when you greeted the man with a hug.

"dude? can you hear me?" suna waved his hand in front of his face.

"don't mind he's just being a simp." osamu responded, a smirk on his face.

"am not!"

"for who?"

"(y/n) (y/l/n)."

"that cute manager from karasuno?"

"yep."

"you go, dude!" suna patted him on the back.

"i don't like her like that, we're just friends."

"why is your face red?"

"it's not red!"

"ooo! is atsumu afraid of (y/n)'s cooties?"

"suna, we're twenty three."

"and you act like you're sixteen with this lil crush, atsumu."

atsumu sighed in response. it was too late. you were going to go home with konoha, or maybe you two would go to his many spare rooms. and you would go on another date. fall in love with him. marry him. have his kids.

"she calls me a manwhore a lot."

"she's not wrong."

"aren't you two supposed to be supportive?"

"no." they both said in unison.

"look just offer to give her a house tour or something," suna advised nonchalantly, "works every time."

"good idea."

feeling a presence behind you, you turned around only to be met with a scary looking blonde towering over you. konoha kissed your cheek and bid you a farewell once he realized another figure grabbing your attention.

"house tour?"

"thought you'd never ask, manwhore."

after a tour of a guest room, a bathroom, and a washing machine, the two of you finally made it to his master bedroom. of course, the pillows on his bed were thrown around and there were a few shirts thrown on the floor.

"i may have forgotten to, uh, put those away."

"how are you gonna give me a house tour and forget to clean your house."

"i remembered to fold my blanket!"

"you don't fold your blanket when you wake up? do you even make your bed in the morning?"

"shut up."

you chuckled as he looked away, a poor attempt to hide his face. judging by the mess of clothing, the setter probably had no idea what to wear for his party. the one that was being hosted by him, in his own apartment, right now.

"i see you had a little fashion show this morning."

"i didn't know what to wear!"

"you're the host!"

"what if i looked bad?"

"who cares?"

he looked at you, a confused expression on his face. his eyebrows were furrowed, mouth slightly parted open. your eyes landed on his lips before you immediately turned away. you couldn't get distracted, but he looked so pretty. instead, you sat down on the bed, finding a pillow to rest your head against.

"if it makes you feel better, you look really nice today, tsumu."

"i did it! you finally didn't call me a manwhore!"

"you're still a manwhore."

he pouted while you threw your head back in laughter once again. atsumu took this as an opportunity to sit next to you on his bed, readjusting your head onto his lap. you looked up at his face, eyes boring deep into yours.

"what are you thinking about?"

"you."

"do i have something on my face?"

"no."

his fingers made its way onto your scalp, slowly massaging your head. a moan left your lips at the satisfying feeling. the past few weeks have only stressed you out, but atsumu's presence cushioned you when necessary.

"how's konoha?"

"he's okay, i'd honestly become friends with him if he wanted to."

"didn't he give you a kiss?"

"it was just a cheek kiss."

"you wouldn't mind if i gave you one, right?"

"who cares? i think everyone should give their homies a kiss."

and with that, his lips met yours. his were soft and warm, and though you were caught by surprised, you kissed back. you two melded together until you sat back up.

"i meant a cheek kiss, but whatever."

"you kissed back!"

"no, i didn't."

"did to."

"i don't want your cooties."

"are you five?"

you rolled your eyes, laying back down on the bed. he ended up giving you a kiss on the cheek, then slowly traveled to your ear, then your neck, then dangerously close to your chest. he laid down next to you, arms around your waist, head resting on the crook of your neck. you acted as if you were indifferent, but of course your cheeks still heated up and your heart was beating faster than usual.

"do you wanna be my girl?"

"no."

"rude."

he chuckled into your neck while you grinned, turning your head to look at the pretty setter. it only resulted in more kisses on your face which you happily received.

"is osamu still single?"

"don't even joke about that."

#atsumu miya #miya atsumu #inarazaki #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu fluff #miya atsumu fluff #atsumu miya fluff #hq fluff #hq fic #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fics #miya atsumu scenario #miya atsumu scenarios #miya atsumu imagine #atsumu miya imagine #🍓.writes

[smol-and-grumpy]

Something Just Like This - CH36

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester, mobster boss. He’s a little cocky, a lot ruthless and more often than not, short tempered. But he’s also, Dean Winchester, a war veteran and hero who suffers under a shit ton of PTS. He met her in a bar and thinks it’s fate that brought her to him. Little does he know why she’s really here.

Warnings: Fluff, a dash of angst

WC: 3386

SERIES MASTERLIST

Dean never thought they could talk things out in such a short time. He thought it might take days but all it took was some cuddles and a warm bath. He should have known though, because Y/N ticks the same way he does. She’s simple, says what’s on her mind, asks the hard questions even if she doesn’t really want to know the answer. 

She’s shaking as he dries her off and carries her to the bed to help her dress in a fresh pair of pj pants, a shirt and one of his oversized sweater before he tucks her in. He threw a shirt over his own head, wears some fresh underwear and walks out to get her pills. He comes in, asks if she’s hungry but she wasn’t. It’s still a couple of hours until dinner time anyway. He slips into bed with her after, can’t really spoon her because of her ankle but he gets as close as possible, lays his head on her good shoulder and noses at her neck. 

He breathes in her scent and whispers, “You smell good again.”

Y/N laughs at that, “Thanks?”

He has to laugh too because he didn’t mean for it to come out like it did. “No, I mean, you smell like you again. I missed that.”

She has her hand in his hair, scratches his head and he can hear her steady heartbeat. 

“There’s something I want you to see.” He says, rolls on the bed and gets his phone off the charger, hands it to her wordlessly.

She takes it, a frown on her face.

“Look at it.” He urges her and she pushes at the button, making the phone light up in the dark.

It’s still the picture of her and Cuddles on his home screen. 

“Dean,” She whispers, “I—”

“0502” He says simply and she looks at him perplexed, frowns when she realizes what the numbers are for. 

She thumbs over the digits, punches in the code and when she unlocks it, she sees a picture of her which he once took while she was still sleeping. Hair a mess, mouth open. He thinks it’s cute but she wouldn’t agree. She doesn’t say anything though. 

“Open my call activities.” He whispers and she does, opens it and looks through it, he doesn’t have a lot of callers on there, so it’s not hard to see that there are 3,212 calls he made to her old number. 

Y/N has tears in her eyes and Dean brushes his thumb against her cheek before he goes on. He’s not going to stop now, wants to get it over with because he wants her to know. 

“Look at my messages.”

She thumbs around on his phone, and opens the texting app. Her hands fly to her mouth, covering it.

He nuzzles his nose against her shoulder as she looks through it. There are messages he sent to her old number, and it starts from the moment she walked out. She can’t possibly go through them all because the last one was only sent three days ago. He never stopped texting her, if sometimes only for him to say hi and that he’s missing her. 

She opens her mouth, “I’m—”

“—it’s okay.” He interrupts her.

He’s told her everything she wanted to know. Everything he thought was important anyway. And everything he told her was the truth either. He wished he knew about the FBI thing sooner though, but what good would that have been? If he could go back, he wouldn’t have changed a thing. Would still have loved her. Would have wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. 

Dean takes his phone from her hands and moves up a little, lays his head next to hers on the pillow instead, rests his forehead on her temple. “Are you staying?” His heart is beating fast as he asks the question, and is kind of prepared if she’d say no, although it would kill him but he’s not the one who wouldn’t let her go if that’s what she really wants. 

“If you want me to?” She asks, and it’s like music to his ears.

“Yeah,” He smiles, “I’d like that.”

 ***

 Dean’s in the living room making breakfast when Sam knocks at his door. 

Dean let’s Sam in and immediately Sam senses that something’s different, because he grins so fucking idiotic and it makes Dean nauseous. That big ass sasquatch always knows when something’s up.

“How did your night go, huh? Wink wink nudge nudge.”

“Sammy, stop being so fucking creepy.”

“I see a pair of women's shoes at the door that’s obviously not your size, Dean, of course I have to be creepy!”

Sam walks in further and takes the cup of coffee out of Dean’s hand before he steals a strip of bacon from a plate. “You’re making breakfast for two, too! Guess she performed really well, that you let her stay.”

“Sam,” Dean growls, it’s a warning.

“I hope you used protection.” Sam’s taking another mouthful of bacon and washes it down with the coffee, “I don’t think you shouldn’t let people sue you for child support.”

“Sammy!” Dean didn’t mean to be so loud, placing his fingers to his lips as a way to warn himself. And then, softer, he says, “Y/N’s here.”

“What?” Sam shouts.

“You’re being loud!” Dean hisses.

“Sorry, okay,” Sam says and then he hisses too, “What? Where did you find her?”

“She was in a car accident. Messed up her ankle real bad. Long story short—”

“—Too late.”

“Oh, haha — shut up.” Dean mocks grumpily and goes on, “I was still her emergency contact on her phone and that leads us here.”

“Okay, fine, she’s here but have you talked it through? I hate to see you sad again, man.”

Dean smirks, “Don’t worry we talked plenty. She explained everything and I had my closure. I feel good. Haven’t felt this good in what?”

“A year.” Sam says drily.

“Yeah. She needs a lawyer to sue that son of a bitch who crashed into her car. You in?”

“Sure, send me the details because I gotta go now,” Sam knocks at the counter twice, “Was only on the way to the office, wanted to see how you’re doing. Is Y/N staying?”

“I think so, why?”

“Bring her around for dinner?”

Dean grins, “Sure.”

“Oh, that Lambo? Yours?”

“Cas. You wanna drive it?” Dean lifts his eyebrows in question.

Sam’s sending him a bitchface. “Nah, my dick’s way too big.”

 ***

 A couple of days later, Dean got Sergei to check up on Y/N. The doctor still lives in one of his apartments, even though he too, got more money than he probably will need in his life. But Sergei’s always been a one weird creature of habit, maybe that’s why he didn’t want to move. And maybe it’s also because Dean lets him live here rent free. It’s the least he can do since Sergei helped save Y/N’s life.

She’s doing much better and they can now lower her pain meds intake. Which probably also means that she’s gonna be awake more and Dean considers that a win. It’s still going to be a little over five weeks until she can take her cast off, though.

Y/N’s workplace had called in to lay her off. She was a little sad about that. It’s not really like she needed the money because Dean has plenty. He could give her half and would still have more than enough left to last him a whole lifetime. He thinks it’s more because she really likes to work, likes to have a purpose in life and he gets that. He tried to cheer her up, telling her that if she wants, she can pick up drawing again and he can fund her own art gallery. His idea wasn’t well received. And by mentioning the art, she suddenly remembers the drawing she left on her bedside table and asked him where it was. He said it’s in a safe place because he doesn’t want to tell her yet, but the truth is, that he framed it and took it to the new house, hung it up right at the entrance so every time he would go in there, he’d see and be reminded what he’s doing it for. Never actually gave up on the idea of finding her again one day and showing her the house, even if at that time he wouldn’t be in the picture of her new future anymore.

One day, he’d tell her. But it’s still too early now.

Cas came by last night to exchange his Baby against the hideous Lamborghini. Thank fucking god because Dean was starting to feel very awkward driving a Lambo around town to do the simplest of things. Cas had asked to see Y/N but she was already sleeping. He promised to take her around once she’s better. Maybe Dean should start to make a list of all the people who want to see Y/N to keep track and not to miss anyone. 

Gabe called too, Sam had been talking, like the gossip girl he is, and Gabe is overly excited that she’s found. Gabe was the one who helped Dean search for her because he hated to see Dean in the state he was in. He said to Dean that it’s worse than after the time their camp had been destroyed in Afghanistan. Dean owes Gabe a lot and Gabe’s also the only one who still lives nearby. He never needed much and only took enough money from Dean to tie him over until he can find another job. More than money, Gabe needs distraction, he once told Dean. He doesn’t need money because money would bring him back to the habit that he wants to shake off. So, now, if Dean needs anything, he’ll contact Gabe. Gabe actually insists on it. 

Y/N comes out of the bedroom, wearing one of his shirts. Dean doesn’t know why she raids his side of the closet when she has enough clothes herself. But he doesn’t really mind. She’s wearing a skirt because it’s easier to get it over the cast. Dean absolutely hates how cute she looks with the oversized shirt and the frilly skirt. Hates it because it makes him want her in a way he doesn’t allow himself to want her. Not yet.

“I’m ready.” 

“Good.” Dean says and it came out grumpy but he’s really not. It’s just that her outfit does things to him and he absolutely hates that he likes it.

He takes the key and gives her a hand to walk to the door. She clutches one crutch on the other side. 

“Jesus, this will take forever.” He mutters under his breath and sweeps her off her feel, carries her over his shoulder while she’s holding the crutch.

“Dean!”

“I’m sorry, it’s just, I’d like to get back by tonight and not still be here by then.”

She’s still over his shoulder when they get into the elevator and he sees their reflection in the mirror. He has his hand on her thigh and her skirt almost rides up to her ass. He turns his gaze down, doesn’t look. He carries her over to his car and they get in.

They’re driving to her apartment, moving things back to his place. Because it’s final. She’s staying. She really fucking stays.

Yesterday morning when he brought her a coffee to bed she looked at him and just smiled. Nothing else, just a smile. And her smile lasted an awful long while until he had to ask what’s wrong.

“I’m staying.” She said. Nothing less, nothing more. But it’s enough for him to sit down and kiss her. He wanted to ask if she really meant it. If she really thought it through because if she stays this time, there’s no running away and he had made it clear that he’s not letting her go anyway. He didn’t ask though, didn’t feel the need to because he’s sure that she knows.

She lived in a rundown building. It's a studio apartment and it’s nothing like her last one. The staircase smells of piss and he’s sure that he saw some kids selling drugs at the corner of the street. It’s surely not a nice neighborhood. Her apartment is small, cozy and it’s a stark contrast to the outside world around the building. Still, it makes Dean mad. He’s angry that she had to live here for so long without him knowing. But he guesses that if the circumstances would have been different, if Dean would have come knocking, she wouldn’t have wanted to come home with him anyway. 

Sometimes, things need time to fall into place and letting her come back on her own might have been the best for the both of them.

He brought a big duffel because she said that there’s not a lot to take back anyway. There’s notebooks where she keeps her drawings. Some books, a laptop. She packs only the clothes she really likes and that’s it. It doesn’t even fill the whole duffel he brought with him. Gabe is going to come around to clear and throw things out sometimes later in the week.

Dean carries her and the duffel down the stairs, breathes relief that his Baby was still standing and waiting for him at the curb where he left her.

She rolls her eyes when she sees him talking to the car, telling Baby how happy he was to see her still here and ready to roll. 

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad around here.” 

“Yeah, right. I saw someone exchanging his own grandma for drugs. It’s clearly not that bad.” Dean snorts and tells her to get in. 

They get home in time for dinner and pills. It’s only one pill now and it doesn’t make her mind as foggy as the ones before. She can even stay around and watch TV with him. He has his legs propped up on the coffee table, she’s leaning into him on the side and he wraps his arm around her. 

It’s easy, Dean thinks. He welcomes the good feeling back into his heart. 

One step at a time. 

She falls asleep against him, so Dean scoops her up and walks her to the bed. He tucks her in and slips in next to her. And he’s able to spoon her now, her ankle isn’t hurting as much anymore. He breathes in, the familiar scent makes him light headed. 

“Thank you.” She whispers.

“You’re welcome?” He replies but doesn’t really know for what. Not that it matters.

She chuckles at that and Dean listens as her breathing evens out.

 ***

 They’re almost at half time now and the skin underneath her cast starts to itch. She’s on the couch drawing when Dean walks in after he went out for errands. He looks over to see her poking around inside of her cast with a pencil.

“Stop that!” He shouts with his boss voice. It’s low and loud and she jumps up, almost dropping the pencil into the cast.

“It itches!” She whines and fucking pouts at him.

Dean unpacks the groceries, “I know but you’re gonna make it worse.”

Y/N lets out a frustrating groan and lets herself fall back on the sofa, her back hitting the leather with a thud. “This is ridiculous! This stupid cast is driving me nuts!”

“You’re driving me nuts!” Dean’s laughing. It’s easy how quick things progress with the two of them. How quickly they become comfortable with each other again. As if there was not a whole fucking year which separated them. He really missed that. Miss the silly arguments, the petty fights, miss someone who understands his humor.  

He pulls out a container of ice cream he just bought, gets out a spoon and walks over to where she's lying with her arm thrown dramatically over her face.

Dean sits down, digs into the ice cream — chocolate chip cookie dough, because it’s the one they both like and can compromise on. He’d rather have anything with peanut butter in it and she’s more of a coconut girl — and holds out a spoonful of ice cream out, waves it in front of her face. She still doesn’t see anything because of her arm.

“Y/N, come on, open your mouth.”

She doesn’t stir, “This better not be your dick, Dean, I’m angry.”

“What’s wrong with my dick?”

“It just doesn’t really make me feel better.”

Dean frowns and shoves the spoon into his own mouth, smacks his lips loudly as he eats it. “You contradict yourself because you used to say, and I quote, your dick always makes me feel so good.”

He actually wouldn’t know if it would still make her feel good because they haven’t done anything yet since she’s back. Just little kisses here and there and a lot of cuddling. Dean’s quite okay with that but it’s fucking hard to really stay away and he anticipates the day the cast will be off because maybe then she’ll be in the mood. He waited one year, what’s a couple of weeks longer, really. He just knows that it’ll be worth it and besides, he enjoys the thing they have as it is. It’s not just about sex, he once told Sam, and it’s still true.

She opens her eyes when Dean takes another spoonful. “What are you? Oh my god I want ice cream!” She sits up, and moves closer, pushing her head through his arm that’s holding the container, so she basically headlocks herself. 

“What? I just told you to open your mouth but you didn’t want to.”

“Please?”

“Yeah, beg for it.” Dean smirks, digs into the container, scoops up a spoonful.

She pouts then and it’s not fair that it still manages to make him weak. He feeds her the ice cream and she smirks around the spoon.

They’re sitting and eating together when she suddenly asks, “Can I ask you something? I need advice from a friend.”

He smiles because he likes that. “Sure.”

“So, you remember my ex-boyfriend?” She starts and the mention of the word ex hits him.

“Yeah, faintly.” He plays along.

“Yeah, do you think if I would try to get together with him again it would work out?”

Dean’s heart is racing stupidly fast. “I don’t know. Do you wanna?”

“I kind of do.”

“Does he want to?”

“I think so. He’s been taking care of me since my accident.”

Dean takes a spoonful of ice cream, an attempt to cool down his face. “Do you still love him?”

“I do.” It comes out fast. She didn’t even have to think about it. 

Okay, now his heart is doing the weird flip thing.

And then she adds, “I just don’t know if he still loves me like he used to. Or if he’ll be able to love me like that again. He’s been a great friend the last couple of weeks, though. I just don’t really know where we stand yet. I wanna try it again. Maybe if we try we could make it work? Taking one day at a time?”

Dean sets the ice cream down, pulls her against his chest, he’s sure she can feel how fast his heart is beating but he doesn’t even care. 

He kisses the top of her head, “Baby, I never stopped loving you. I would love you in any shape, any form, with any past and present, never doubt that.”

It’s the first time he dares to say baby in front of her so she’d hear it, didn’t feel like it’s his place when they still haven’t figured out what’s next. But being able to say it again feels good. It actually feels great. Like it’s a word only fitting for her, apart from his car, obviously.

She cries into his chest, and it’s good, apart from the crying of course. It’s good to feel her close again. It’s good to be able to work towards what they were. It’s good to work towards what they will be.

CH37

#something just like this #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #dean x reader #dean x you #nathalie writes

[personasintro]

My Tiny Secret | 03; Audacity

𝑴𝒚 𝑻𝒊𝒏𝒚 𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆 | 03; Audacity

⏤𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; Pretty face doesn’t make it up for an ugly personality. And Kim Seokjin is the perfect proof of that.

⏤𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: seokjin x reader

⏤𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: angst, smut

⏤𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: toxic relationship, smut, mistress au, mentions of sex

⏤> 𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒙

It’s one of those days when you’re alone in Hoseok’s apartment, eating olives which are your daily essential due to your pregnancy cravings. Unfortunately, as much as you don’t want to be alone, you know Hoseok still needs to pay the bills. The guilt is creeping out again, knowing you’re not helping to him and as many times he says you’re not, you know you’re just being a burden.

So most of the week you feel lonely, besides the occasional calls from your mother or Hoseok’s messages checking up on you.

You’re six months pregnant and you already feel big, despite of the small bump hidden behind your, or Hoseok’s, large t-shirts he borrowed you. Or more like gave you, since you can’t find yourself wearing anything else, other than the amazing stretchy material that is so soft against your skin.

Insecurity comes very easily with pregnancy, especially with your body changing and adjusting to the baby growing up in your womb. The hormones are huge part of it as well, making you overreact and overthink everything that’s not even that big of a deal. You can’t help it.

You really hoped your hormones would act differently, but you ended up being a huge cry baby that cries against Hoseok’s shoulder every night. Maybe that’s why you’ve taken an early maternity leave, due all the stress you feel. Even now, you feel like you’ve no right to say or even think that. Stress? Hoseok takes care of everything. Your mother is trying to help as much as she can, but it’s hard when she leaves further away and can’t not be there with you. Maybe you should just leave from Seoul, go back to your small hometown and be the center of a gossip about a woman who got knocked up.

Just as a small tear is ready to escape from your watery eyes, there’s a faint knock coming from the front door.

Has Hoseok ordered something again?

You lost the count of how many times he ordered some new shoes and clothes, but you don’t mind picking it up that often. It means he still has some money to spend on himself, instead of taking care of you and your unborn baby.

Mindlessly, which is a stupid thing of you to do, you open the door without checking who’s standing behind it. And you so damn wish it’d be just one of the delivery guys, but your jaw drops once you look at the tall man. He hasn't changed a bit, and you wouldn’t even find a single wrinkle if you tried to. He wears his dress shirt with black slacks and you know he must be working today.

So why the hell is Kim Seokjin standing in front of your, Hoseok’s, front door?

The last time you saw him was in the shop, where he found out about your secret that you were hiding from him. Luckily, he never contacted you again and you thought, you’ll be able to forget he even existed. Until now.

He gifted you with his presence, eyes staring at you which causes your breath to hitch and you hate how much reaction he’s getting. His eyes follow to your stomach, almost as if questioning you before he looks back.

“Can we talk?”

He’s the first one that speaks up, your shock swallowing you whole as you dryly gulp, gripping the doorknob harder.

“I’ve nothing to talk to you about.” you tell him sassily, straightening yourself to show your confidence which you’re desperately trying to find.

One of the things you wish the most, is to be confident in front of him since the beginning. You showed him your weakness, welcoming him with opened arms when you knew he’s never going to treat you like he should or how you wanted to. You were just a fling to him, someone who can fill the cravings of pleasure for him.

His dark eyes drops to your belly, that’s peeking underneath Hoseok’s oversized t-shirt and you wish you would put at least some kind of sweater. But you know even then, he’d be able to make out the baby bump. It’s not like you can hide it anymore.

“I don’t think that’s quite the truth.” he tells you, his velvety and raspy voice echoing in the hall and you quickly peek your head out to check, if someone hears you.

You don’t need any gossips going around. It’s already enough that the old lady next door thinks, you and Hoseok are together. You never told her the truth, partly because you were ashamed for being pregnant and that you live with your best friend who’s taking care of you. But just when you were about to kindly correct her, Hoseok stopped you. He told you it’s fine and you don’t have to explain anyone anything.

“Get out.” you glare at him, trying to intimidate him but instead of an amused grin, like he always used to react, he stares at you so blankly with emptiness in his eyes.

It makes your stomach uncomfortably shiver because that’s how he looks like. He looks empty. Emotionless even.

“No,” he says simply, acting as if he owns this place. Gosh, you hope he doesn’t. “I want to talk to you about... the baby.” he mutters, his tone dangerously dropping at the mention of the small bundle in your womb.

You don’t know why though. Maybe it’s his secret as well and he doesn’t want anyone to find out about his slip, or he just doesn’t want to upset you talking about the baby. Knowing him, it’s probably the first. There’s no way he takes your feelings into any consideration, since he stands in front of you, not leaving you or the baby alone.

“What baby?” you ask dumbfounded, blinking at him as he only raises a brow in response. “You don’t have any baby.”

He doesn’t like that. The way he frowns, his plump lips in a straight line is enough to tell you that he feel irritated.

There you go. Pointing that it’s only your baby again. You’re being defensive again. It’s not like you don’t have a reason to be like that.

“Don’t do this,” he breathes, an exhausted sigh pushing past his plushy and juicy lips that shimmer with the lip balm he likes to use. You give him questioning look, despite of the glare you send him. “Don’t act like this baby is only yours.”

“Because it is.” you tell him simply with a light shrug, protectively touching your belly.

As on cue, the baby boy inside your womb decides to kick and you scrunch your face for a few seconds, before it goes back to glaring at the man in front of you.

“No, it’s not and you know it. I’m so sick of this bullshit. You act like it’s only your kid and I’ve my own rights.” he frowns, his tone raising to an octave higher and you pray no one is earsdropping your conversation.

“You do,” you tell him and by the sudden raise of his thick brows, you know you caught him off guard. “But I’m doing what’s best for him. And I’m sorry, but you’re just a piece of an asshole who can’t treat anyone with respect. I don’t want my baby’s father to be like that.”

He doesn’t seem to be taken back by your insults, almost as if he was expecting it anyway. It’s hard to tell. This is Kim Seokjin we’re talking about.

“You don’t even know what kind of father I’d be. You didn’t give me a chance.” he speaks with low tone.

Is that a accusation you hear in his voice?

“You—“

“Before you curse at me, can we discuss this in private? I don’t really want anyone to interfere into our business.” he cuts you off, head turning to the left before he looks back at you.

You want to curse at him, but you hear footsteps of one of the neighbors who lives next door. “Pff, our business,” you scoff, arms crossing over your chest as you bitterly chuckle at him, “Fine. I’m giving you five minutes. Then you’re out.” you snap.

He doesn’t seem to be nowhere near surprised by your attitude, so he nods. “Fine by me.” he mutters bitterly before he steps inside of Hoseok’s home.

Closing the door, you quickly greet curious neighbor which is a older lady in her forties, who seems to be captivated by Seokjin. Well, you’re not surprised. Seokjin has a weird aura around him, captivating others’ eyes without even trying. She probably wonders what a man like him, is doing here.

Turning around, you see him looking around, probably judging the modesty Hoseok’s home holds. The apartment is nice, definitely too small for a family with a kid, but it’s enough. It’s modern and clean. For a moment, Seokjin just looks around while puzzled look is plastered on his face and you wonder what he’s thinking.

This is nothing compared to his fancy house. He’s probably thinking that.

“So? Clock is ticking.” you speak out, your voice holding distance and distaste which he doesn’t fail to notice.

He chuckles, looking down at his black boots. “I forgot how sharp your tongue can be.”

You’re not sure whether it was aimed at you, or he’s just talking to himself since his eyes are focused downwards. But you don’t react because there is no reason to. You’d just tell him something bitterly and you both would end up fighting. You just want him gone. You hate how weak you feel in his presence. It’s like you’re just dirt next to him.

“How far along are you?” he asks, eyes scanning Hoseok’s frames on the wall.

There are couple of pictures with you, way before you even met Seokjin. Probably the best stage in your life; when you didn’t know who Kim Seokjin is.

“You probably know that, so why are you asking?” you scoff, knowing he has his special ways of getting private informations.

It’s illegal and you could easily sue whoever got him that information, but he could literally heard it from anywhere. There is no proof and you’re not the type to go to court and deal with another drama.

“Because Y/N, I want to hear it from you.” he says your name with added edge to it.

You’ve the urge to tell him to fuck off for many reasons and you want nothing more than actually do it, but you stop yourself. If you answer him, it’s possible he’ll leave sooner.

“Seven months,” you dryly answer him. “Now, what the fuck are you doing here?”

Once again, he’s not surprised by your explicit language and your attitude. Back in the day, he’d put you in your place, letting you know he doesn’t appreciate your bratty attitude. But it’s all history now. You’re not his to touch anymore, but you never were his to begin with.

“You never change,” he tsks with his tongue, bitterly chuckling as your patience is running low. He can’t get it through his thick skull that you don’t want him here. “Can’t we just talk like two civil adults?”

He’s making you seem like you’re the one who’s acting irrationally, mentally laughing at you and it makes you feel so small.

“Now you want to be a civil adult? Weird, I thought you’re just fucking liar and nowhere near civil.” you bitterly laugh, even though your heart cracks.

This is not good for you, or your baby but you can’t help it. This is your defensive mechanism, insulting him for all the hurt he caused you.

“Y/N...” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looks almost disappointed.

What was he expecting? That you’d welcome him with opened arms? Or spread your legs? That’s what you all were to him anyway.

“How’s your wife, Seokjin?” you ask him, his eyes snapping to yours.

He still looks cold, intimidating even as he simply just stares at you. His jaw clenches, a warning for you to shut up but you won’t.

“Does she know you’ve been fucking a different woman in your bed? Or more women that aren’t here?” you ask him, your tone laced with hatred you feel towards him.

Who knows how many women he had, when the two of you were intimate.

“It was only you, you know that.”

If you knew him better, you’d say he actually sounds defeated. And for the first time, you see his cold face crack and there is a hidden emotion on his face, you can’t point your finger at.

“No, actually I don’t. Because I don’t trust you and you’re the biggest liar I’ve ever met. May I remind you the fact, that you never mentioned that you’re married? If I haven’t found out about it completely randomly, you’d lie to me to till this day.”

Your voice grows stronger every minute, you don’t know what it causes it but you’re not complaining.

You remember that night when he forgot to hide his wedding ring from you, not even denying it once you asked him about it.

‘So what? Does it matter? We’re only fucking anyway.’

That’s what he told you back then, hurting you for the hundredth time.

“Does she know, you knocked up some slut?”

You’d never call yourself that, no matter how much you felt like it every time you came back home from his place. Scrubbing your skin as if you were dirty, but you always came back to him. Because even with his personality, you still found something to like about him. You don’t know what, you just know you always liked him more than he did. Because despite of the kisses, a simple act of pleasure, he never showed you any kind of love.

He frowns for some reason and you don’t think about it, not anymore. You don’t know him.

“She knew,” he speaks with confidence, despite of your previous words which don’t affect him. “She knows.” It’s all he says, your mouth drops open with dumbfounded look.

“What?”

“She knew I had someone. We had an open relationship. She had someone as well.” he simply explains, revealing something from his life for the first time. Something deeper and more personal.

She knew? An open relationship?

“Gosh, you’re both fucked up.” you tell him with disgust in your voice. You feel like you’re going to throw up any second.

“Aren’t we all?” he asks simply causing you to shoot him a glare.

He’s definitely fucked up.

“She knows you’re pregnant.” he continues, speaking freely which surprises you but you only frown.

“Did she know who I was when we met--“

“No, she didn’t,” he cuts you off, knowing what you’re asking.

Gosh, if she knew, God knows what would she do. Well, since they’re in opened relationship she wouldn’t hurt you. Right? Technically, she’s fine with it.

“It doesn’t matter. She knows now, I told her.”

You don’t know how to react to that. She knows you’re having a baby with Seokjin. That probably wasn’t a part of their deal about opened relationship. She probably hates you right now.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. She doesn’t need to be afraid. You’re not going to be a father.” you tell him, silently aiming about him not being in the baby’s life.

By the frown, he most likely knows what you’re talking about.

“That’s why I’m here,” he coughs into his fist, before he gently swipes his dark hair away from his forehead. “You see, me and my wife are married for seven years and for the past seven years, we had no luck. So naturally, we went to see a couple of professional doctors to know where’s the problem. They found out, one of us is most likely infertile. At first, for some reason I thought it’s me but then they found out, it’s my wife who can’t get pregnant. I need an heir,” your breath hitches.

Why is he telling you this? Where is he going with this? Maybe, just maybe he’s desperate to be a father since he can’t be with his own wife. But then he mentioned about him needing an heir and you’re sure, he wants a baby just so someone could take over the huge company his father has built. But is it really like that? You don’t see inside of his head and you grow more confused every second he talks.

“We thought about adopting, but, it never will be my blood.”

And the second he ends his small talk, you feel like you’re going to throw up all the olives you ate. You can feel it in your throat as you’re forced to swallow it, your legs shaking.

“A-are you trying to, you, you want this baby to yourself?” you stutter, your voice shaking.

Not from shock, but from anger and shock. You always knew he’s a piece of shit, but you never knew he’s this big of an asshole.

“Just say how much.”

Your body reacts on its own, surprising you as well once your palm meets the soft skin of his cheek. His head snaps to the right, his jaw flexing as he deadly stares into the space.

“Get the fuck out.” you tell him through your clenched teeth, your arms shaking because fuck, you just slapped him.

He deserves it.

He slowly meets your eyes, his cheek slightly red from your hand but even now, you don’t feel and satisfaction. Maybe you should’ve punched him with your fist.

“You’ve barely any money to live on your own. How are you going to take care of a child?”

There he goes again. Reminding you that you’re no one with no money.

“You don’t have to care about that. I’ll care about him just fine.” you hiss at him but he remains to look unfazed.

“It’s my child as well.” he reminds you causing you to scoff.

“Like the hell it is!” you exclaim, your voice loudly booms between the walls of Hoseok’s home. “You’ve the audacity to come here and ask me to leave my unborn baby, just so you could have an heir. Gosh, you’re so fucking disgusting!” you yell at him, tears pooling in your already red eyes as you punch his chest.

He doesn’t shield himself from your arms, hitting his hard chest, while he stands tall and takes it. A loud sob escapes your lips and you wonder what have you done wrong in your previous life, to deserve this.

“I know I’m an asshole, but I don’t want this baby in my life just to have an heir. I’m pretty aware that you won’t raise a kid with me,”

He’s damn right about that.

“I thought considering your financial problem, I could help you. And me and my wife--“

You don’t even bring yourself to scoff, your blurry vision making it hard as you already threw your confidence away.

“You and your wife can go fuck yourselves,” you bark, his brows dangerously drops down as he glares at you. “I don’t--“

A gasp leaves your mouth, your hands automatically holding your swollen belly as your face scrunches in hurt. The baby is kicking and the high pressure you must be having right now, isn’t helping. Your vision gets blurry for a split second, your head spinning as you almost stumble on your shaky legs. Surprisingly, Seokjin is there to hold you, arms securely wrapping around your petite frame.

“Fuck, are you okay?” he breathes out, your nose digging into his dress shirt that smells just like you remember. It’s muscular but sweet and light scent.

“I’m fine, he’s just kicking.” you murmur, your eyes shutting as you feel the movements in your womb.

You’re taken back by the fact, that you actually answered him with no hatred in your voice, your attention solely focused on the baby inside of you.

He gently pulls you away, his eyes searching your face as stare at him with doe eyes. It’s weird, because you never really had a moment like this. His deep brown eyes gaze at you, before he looks down.

“Can I?” he asks, eyes purposely not meeting yourself as they stay on your bump.

It’s a simple question, but you can hear a different emotion in his voice. You can’t put your finger on it, but you’ve never heard him talking like that. He was always emotionless. And maybe that’s what you mean, that he’s just not so emotionless right now.

“Will you leave after that?”

You can’t believe you’re considering it in the first place, but you need him to leave. And by arguing with him, he’s just not going to leave so easily. And as much as you try to distance yourself and the baby from him, there’s so little you can do. Because he’s right. He has his own right as a father. You’re doing this for your son, knowing his father is not capable of loving you. But that’s the thing. Loving you. What if he’s capable of loving your son?

Your mind is already racing and you find yourself in the same cycle of uncontrollable thinking. You just need to assure yourself, that you’re doing the right thing.

“Yes.” he answers lowly, eyes meeting yours again while you anxiously bite the inside of your cheek.

“Fine.” you mutter in annoyance, but you’re just a nervous wreck inside.

And with that, the permission you give him, he drops to his knees onto the wooden floor. Your mouth slightly open at him because he looks so vulnerable. He still owns the same intense glare but he’s on his knees right now, which can be mistaken as an act of giving up.

You watch his hand hesitantly lift up to your swollen baby, almost as if he’s complementing if this is the right thing. But then he touches you, the material of a t-shirt being the only barrier between the two of you. And as on cue, the baby kicks and you softly groan. It’s one of the lightest kicks, so it doesn’t hurt that much but it still makes you feel weird. It’s still something you need to get used to.

His hands drops to the hem of your t-shirt, eyes glancing up at you as he plays with it. You know what he wants and with a defeated sigh, you nod. The sooner he get what he wants, the sooner he leaves.

He carefully lifts up the stretchy material, your hands holding it up for him as he’s met with your skin and baby bump. It’s not too big, but still eye catching. His fingertips are the first thing that touch your skin, a shiver running at the back of your neck. The touch leaves a tickle feeling, bringing you back to all the times you’ve felt it. Obviously, the situation and circumstances were far too different than they’re now, but still. A part of you hates yourself for still feeling that way, despite of your hatred towards him.

But nobody could prepared you what’s next, your eyes experiencing a different side of the cold Kim Seokjin.

His brings his face closer to the peeking bump, his breath fanning your skin as he starts to palm it. “Hey, little one. It’s your daddy.”

Your other hand slaps over your mouth, an automatic reaction you couldn’t stopped, as you bite your lower lip harshly. Fucking hormones. They make you emotional, the atmosphere in the room changing as Seokjin’s velvety voice rings your ears.

Your eyes are watery again, your other hand gripping the material so tight that your knuckles turns white. And when baby kicks, which could’ve been completely random and it’s not because he just heard his father, you completely loose it. A sob escapes your lips, followed with a sniffle and you’re glad Seokjin doesn’t pay any attention to you.

You and Hoseok have been trying to get him to kick for a long time, trying everything. Hoseok talking to him, singing with his not so singing skills and voice cracking or reading a story he found on his phone. He barely reacted. The fact he reacted so easily right now is hurting you way more than it probably should. And you try to convice yourself, that this is just coincidence. Maybe it has something to do with your stress, which got higher by Seokjin’s presence.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts, that you barely make out Seokjin’s soft lips pressing gently against the bump before he stands up. His eyes doesn’t meet yours as he coughs, straightening his posture. It’s like the man you just saw a few seconds ago is gone.

“Don’t worry, I’ll see myself out.”

It’s the last thing he tells you before he walks out of Hoseok’s apartment, closing the front door behind him as you’re a sobbing mess. Your hand falls, the t-shirt covering your exposed belly before you quickly go to sit down. Your heart is racing so fast that you need to take a deep breaths.

Once you calm down, noticing the awful silence letting you know that you’re alone again, a droplets of sweat appear on your forehead.

Something’s telling you that this is not the last time you see him.

#bts smut #bts angst #seokjin smut #seokjin angst #seokjin drabble #seokjin x reader #seokjin scenarios #seokjin fanfic #personasintro #my tiny secret

[whatwashernameagain]

Keep him safe - Chapter 34

You can read the previous Chapters here: Ch 1, Ch 5, Ch 10, Ch 15, Ch 20, Ch 25, Ch 30, previous chapter, Ao3 Link, Lo’s, Pat’s and Virgil’s aesthetics, You are Magical, I’m dying to be with you, The Dreamer

Pairings: Logan/Patton, Roman/Virgil

Words: 9.007

Warnings: Roman and Virgil’s horny thoughts (not explicit), slight mention of cross dressing, scratches, political criticism, cursing – let me know if I forgot one!                 

Summary: Detective  Logan Sanders and his best friend and dorky partner Roman Prince have  made a dear friend in the lovely pattisier Patton. Logan however, feels a  lot more than friendship for the sweet man, even though he knows he  cannot possibly have him. Their routine is broken abruptly when Logan  finds bruises on Patton’s fair skin and slender wrists he could hardly  have received from his costumary clumsiness.   Meanwhile his partner  Roman has his own demon to fight, which comes in the form of a little  delinquent who seemed to have been pulled into a street gang quite  against his will. Roman is determined to help the strange young man. It  would be so much easier though if he just stopped hissing at him!

Notes: Thanks to @sebthesnipe​ for proof reading even though she is the busiest person in the world and to @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2​ for being amazing and running the KHS Discord server for two amazing years now.

Chapter 34

“Hey asshole, pick your shit up! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Virgil screeched at the unsuspecting dog walker from his spot at the front door of their apartment building, already seething with anger. He’d just gotten back from his early morning training at Talyn’s place and had been looking forward to finishing it with Logan, who was currently on his run. And now this dirtbag was getting all up in this shit – or… Virgil was getting up in the dude’s shit. Well sue him!

The man startled, looking down at the cigarette butt he’d tossed to the ground carelessly.

“What’s wrong with me? You can’t just call me an asshole over nothing! Who do you think you are? Where I throw my fags is none of your business.”

Oh, that had been a mistake.

Virgil abandoned his attempt to unlock the door and got right into the man’s face, ignoring the bulldog happily yaping around his heels. He was so ready for this.

“Over NoThInG? Listen up, you hollow walnut!”

Before he could start ranting properly, a familiar tall man wearing a band tee with a ripped collar, no shoes and wild eyes materialized next to him.

“Oohh yay, are we throwing away our stuff???” He cheered, immediately emptying his pockets and throwing everything on the ground with glee. Bloody tissues, clothespins, a folding knife, crumbling dog treats (immediately slobbered away by enthusiastic dog) and a worn, tiny bible. Papers immediately started spilling out of it – some filled with scribbled thoughts or to do lists, others with faded printouts. In his back pockets he found a bunch of candy wrappers he immediately threw up to rain around himself, unintentionally tossing a pocket Quran along with it which he hastily fumbled with so not to drop it.

Virgil ducked out of the radius of his debris, as usual weirded out and awed in equal parts by professor Duke. The dog-walker looked at him like he’d just bitten off his own foot.

“The hell? Fags aren’t the same as your garbage, you crazy freak!” The man exclaimed, thoroughly disturbed.

“No, dude. They’re much worse!” Virgil growled, ignoring Remus trying to free his fingers from a distressed looking worm on a string he’d gotten tangled in. Quite a few people had stopped to watch them, yet with the professor cheerfully making a scene next to him, Virgil managed to keep his head high despite the heat and anxiety making his heart race.

“Cigarette butts contain over 4000 toxic substances and are virtually indestructible.” The young delinquent hissed. “The filters are made of a plastic called cellulose acetate and they take 10 years to decompose completely- just one of those fucks poisons one cubic meter of water and kills all the fucking fish in it.”

“You should pick it up, friend. Before I get ideas about where to put it out.” Remus cooed sweetly, before ruining the elegant subtly of his threat by becoming way too graphic.

“In your face!” He screeched, flailing grandly and wiggling his fingers, the bulldog distracting him by nosing at his pockets, hoping for more treats. Its owner used the chance to sullenly grab his cigarette stub and get away.

“You shouldn’t have a doggy-dog if you can’t handle being a clean boy!” Remus hollered after him, way too loud and shameless. “Do you not wipe your ass after you take a shit either? You naughty, dirty boy? Is it a sex thing? That is the one sex thing you keep in your bedroom!”

Virgil was blushing thoroughly, not enjoying the attention despite the righteous fire still fueling his anger. What the fuck was wrong with people throwing their garbage on the ground? What were they thinking? Not only did somebody else have to pick it up, it also fell apart to become microplastic and the nicotine, tar and heavy metals – all 4.5 trillion of them that were thrown away each year. Fuck smokers who did that! They were what was wrong with the word! Seriously, could you be any more of a useless human if they were not even able to throw their trash away properly? Full offense, Virgil wanted to kick them in the face.

People were staring and murmuring around them and though he didn’t feel bad about his reaction, his heart was still in his throat at all the attention.

“What? Are you not entertained enough, you mindless sheep?” Remus roared brightly, spreading his arms and bouncing up and down on his toes, placing himself in front of the younger man. “Would you like me to sing you a song about the misfortunes of little Jimmy who doesn’t pick up his litter? Spoilers – he gets eaten by an octoshaaaark!”

He struck a dramatic pose and drew a deep breath. People started fleeing.

“Aw dang.” Remus pouted.

Virgil chuckled, feeling surprising affection well up in him. Remus was scary, yeah, definitely, but he was also an ally to his cause, and that meant a lot to him.

Crouching down and using the opportunity to let his hair fall over his face, he started picking up the non-bloody articles Logan’s neighbor had scattered on the ground.

“Why do you have a bible and a copy of the constitution?” He asked, trying to shake the paper from his fingers and finding it disconcertingly sticky. Was that a cough drop? Ugh, he’d have to disinfect his whole body.

“For arguments with conservatives!” Remus answered happily. “I like slapping them in the face with the dick that is my arguments every time they go all bibly-christiany on me! They don’t love the fact that Jesus was a sandal wearing liberal that much – a lot like I am, actually! Not that facts work well with them – I found that barking and bending over backwards with your tongue lolling out works best. Makes an impression!”

He’d settled down next to Virgil cross-legged, bouncing his knees, and started munching on the dry little cookie thingies the bulldog had missed. “Dog treat?” He asked generously, holding one out.

“Why?” Virgil asked, completely bewildered. They were, indeed, little bone shaped dog treats.

“I like the way they crunch!”

“…okay.”  

Virgil still tried to make sense of the interaction he was currently having and found that using facts was indeed a lost cause with many republicans – which in this case was a generous euphemism for racists and Nazis, so one could just as well try what the crazy man did. Not everyone deserved to have a stage, after all.

Quietly, he examined the other. The ripped T-shirt made the wide collar slip down one of his skinny shoulders and the jeans he wore had definitely seen better days. His dark skin didn’t do much to hide the bluish shadows under his eyes. And also his naked, dirty feet were disgusting.

Dumping the stuff he’d picked up into the professor’s lap, he stood up. “Take a shower and come up at twelve, I’m making veggie burgers.”

There would be so much complaining once Roman found out he’d invited Remus.

***

Logan ran a hand through his sweaty hair, pulling the damp, raven locks out of his face. His muscles were burning pleasantly from his run and he was looking forward to his post workout stretch with Virgil. It would be illogical not to use the knowledge of an experienced gymnast for advice, after all. Though his little delinquent was still shy about it, the detective found he appeared to enjoy exercising together, as long as they were doing it in the safety of Virgil’s room where he could comfortably hide in his oversized sweaters.

His thoughts amusedly circled back to the way Virgil had to shake his hands free from his overly long sleeves whenever he reached for his feet while he fumbled his keys free from the little pocket sewn into his close-fitting trousers. As usual, Logan fetched the mail on his way up, sighing as a stack of colorful envelopes fell into his hands. Glitter rained down from one of them. With more gentleness than he felt inclined to, he beat the stack of bulging papers against the side of the building to loosen the shimmering plastic particles. Did this action constitute a case of littering, he wondered. He resolved to bring down his vacuum cleaner to deal with the mess after his shower.

On his way up, the detective separated the pile into his and Roman’s mail, ending up with sensibly sized, white envelopes in one hand, and a bunch of offensively colored, suspiciously rattling, sticker covered, perfumed fan mail his partner was greedily waiting for. He kicked the professor’s apartment door closed as he passed it, satisfied to hear him mumbling over the running shower in the also open bathroom.  

Roman was already lurking in the opened door to Logan’s own apartment like a silk-clad dragon looking to expand his hoard, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. Logan rolled his eyes. Despite having received letters for a week already, he was still overly enthusiastic about them every day. And he still refused to get them himself, instead he let Logan hand them to him exasperatedly like some strange ceremony.

The young detective snatched the pile eagerly, pouting as Logan held back two of them, not liking the powdery, sandy sound they were making when he tilted them. It was likely more beads or glitter, yet they still went into the box by the door to be checked in the lab (as they all should). He had ordered the post office whose address the fan-mail was sent to, to be extra vigilant before delivering the mail to his apartment, but he would most certainly not put the safety of his family at risk. He wondered, once again, whether he ought to borrow a service dog to check the mail for – preferably the rest of their lives actually.

“Look, Patton fairest, what the wind has blown in!” Roman sang cheerfully, twirling around the baker gracefully and then taking him for a spin and dip.

Patton giggled, stumbling and holding on to the tall detective, getting his lovely curls all tangled up in the frame of his glasses.

Smiling contently, Logan slunk into Virgil’s room to engage in what he hoped to turn into a routine. The young man was already waiting for him – playing on his phone curled up on the dresser between the planet lights he had kept, hair curling slightly with dampness from his private routine in Talyn’s gym he was slowly taking up again.

Meanwhile, Roman flopped onto the couch and yanked Patton into his arms enthusiastically, wanting to share his happiness and also maybe trying to distract him a little bit from his preparations for his return to the café. He wanted to support his friend, he really did, but he couldn’t help trying to put off unpleasant tasks for as long as possible instead of facing them. It was an issue he’d always had – one that had driven Logan half-crazy before he’d started to deal with many of those tasks himself and handed over others to Roman instead. They were making it work.

Roman didn’t actually have to do anything for the café, but the plan to reopen it, no matter how much Patton needed it, still made him antsy. Trevor-the-villainous-fiend could be lurking there. Who knew what could happen? After all, they had neatly avoided any contact, despite how often he had secretly talked the little baker out of calling him in the night when he’d been frightened and guilty. Which had been a lot of times. Better not tell Logan about that.

Well, distracting himself until the problem went away or got horribly unavoidable was a strategy that had gotten him through life just fine (now that he had Logan to read his paperworky-mail which he had an almost insurmountable aversion against dealing with), so he cuddled the baker close and settled in for some pleasant distractions.

Patton probably knew what he was doing, considering the way he pushed their cheeks together and hummed sweetly. Ugh, Roman felt so loved, it was too much for words. He squeezed Patton’s little body at his side closer to himself, just needing to hold on so suddenly. He loved him so much his heart was pounding with it. Feeling giddy with it, Roman jiggled and rocked them happily, delighting in the laugh he elicited.

“Alrighty, my most precious Patton, shall we discover the adoration of my beloved fans together?” The young man cheered, bright with eagerness.

“Yes! Now that I’m enveloped in a hug letters begin!”

Pulling his legs close to curl comfortably into Roman’s hug, and lean against his warm, broad chest, Patton selected the first envelope – a loudly patterned lilac one. Roman ripped it open with childish pleasure.

“Ohhhhhhhh!” He cooed, the sound almost too high for a man this large. “Isn’t this the most delightful thing you have ever seen, my fairest friend?!”

He was unfolding a drawing of himself in full superhero regalia, cape and sash and all, clearly drawn by a little child. Picture Roman was holding hands with a little kid each – a dark skinned girl in a princess dress and a blonde child of indeterminable gender due to the quality of the drawing. They were wearing a knight’s armor with a lightsaber as much as he could tell. It was adorable and Patton was putting it on the fridge. His eyes were watering at how cute it was.

“Oh.my.god. Virgil, my starry night, come here and see this!” Roman howled, very close to Patton’s ear.

The grumbling from next door indicated the delinquent’s feeling about the nickname as well as the interruption.

Roman waved the letter around with so much enthusiasm it nearly dislodged Patton. With a squeak, the baker held on to the tall man’s neck, even though the strong arm around his waist held him safely where he was almost pulled into Roman’s lap entirely.

Virgil, dressed in a mix of his old gymnastics’ clothes and his newer, oversized hoodie that hid as much as possible and fell all the way over his hips, didn’t really feel like being seen by the attractive detective right now. He didn’t mind Logan seeing him in his pants that fit his toned, long legs like a second skin, but with Roman, he felt a little more self-conscious. Especially about the combination with the ratty, overly long hoodie.

He used to wear tight fitting shirts that he now knew could look quite enticing when they slipped up his middle as he stretched or exposed his shoulders, but he didn’t feel confident enough to pick them out himself anymore. He wanted to look pretty for Roman more with every day, but considering the way the man had seen him in the past, he didn’t know if he could pull it off. Maybe Roman would feel like he was dressing up like a whore again - wearing a costume to seduce him. He didn’t know what made him so reluctant to dress better, it was just – such a big step and he didn’t know how to go about it anymore. So he wrapped his arms around his middle and hoped not to look too annoyed and uncomfortable. Especially considering how happy Roman appeared. So bright and innocent.

He was radiant.

And he was reading fan mail.

Virgil didn’t love the fan mail. Not at all. Remy had been forced to listen about it for a long time. He just hated the thought of those dirty minded, thirsty bitches getting to tell his man about all of the horny things they came up with while they drooled over his pictures. The fuck was wrong with them, trying to steal his- his- argh Virgil hated them with a passion, okay?! Who knew what ideas they were putting into that beautiful idiot’s head?

Remy was still patient with him thought, however the fuck he managed to do it. Virgil had the feeling he was being indulgently laughed at when he raged about the letters over the phone. So what if he hadn’t actually read any of them?! Roman kept singing their praise to anyone who would listen, why would he need to look at them himself? He was sure they were every bit as awful as he imagined.

Roman looked too happy with them. Fuck that.

He really looked quite happy, actually.

Virgil slowed his steps suspiciously.

Giggling, Roman flattened the paper before his eyes to read to Virgil. He even tried to do the voice. A voice Virgil immediately recognized.

‘Tell my anxious doll to, like, not to be such a moody diva and come look at some cute fan mail with his eye-candy detective.’ Roman took a break to preen. ‘I promise you don’t have to be scared, babe. Y’all are just making tasks bigger and scarier by avoiding confrontation with unpleasant chores and then they, like, build up in your messy little minds and that is not cool cause it makes me work for my not-money. So have a letter written by my precious little baby girl angels as a treat, okay girlfriend?’

“Awwwww so sweet!” Patton sighed.

Roman looked thoughtful for a moment as he pulled out the third sheet of paper written with a rainbow pencil, probably by Emile since the girls were too little to write themselves. The words were all enthusiastic little girl, though.

“How would you feel about looking at just one or two letters with us before returning to my dearest partner?” Roman asked sweetly. “They truly are quite entertaining. Just yesterday I received one from the utterly ravishing miss Van der Beek. All her other friends promised to write as well. It turns out I am quite popular with distinguished ladies with more experience enjoying the finer things in life!”

“What he means to say, kiddo, is that old ladies just love our dashing prince. Most of those are sent by the cutest grannies from retirement homes.” Patton explained with a warm smile that was just a little mischievous. “That doesn’t mean they’re all innocent, though.” He added cheerfully. Truthfully, he was already itching to get his hands on the hilarious letters. Those ladies really weren’t shy and Patton secretly wanted to be just like them someday. Enjoying the good life and making the best puns about butts.

Roman didn’t mind the fact that most of his paper-mail was written by children and elderly women (and grandpas, sometimes). He received emails and even digital art from younger fans as well, and he adored them, so, so much, but since he couldn’t keep them in a box with the pictures and drawings and ribbons and whatnot he enjoyed the letters even more. He just loved how creative they were. They really made him feel special. He should have known they’d make his dearest raven anxious, though. He really hoped to put him at ease with this gentle introduction Remy had created for him. And it worked! Of course it did – Remy’s children were the most precious things in the world! He could barely wait for their play date next weekend!

He was a little relieved to find the other letters they opened to be just as fun and cute. They usually were. Patton had a talent for selecting the nice ones from looking at the envelope alone. Not all letters were super sweet of course, but that was why he rarely opened his fan-mail alone. Both Patton and Logan made the creepy ones disappear quite quickly. Virgil could handle those, Roman was sure, but there was one person whose letters would just upset his dear wildcat.

They’d come in fine, yellow envelopes with pressed yellow roses inside and were written in the most beautiful calligraphy he’d ever seen. Recognizing the handwriting on the outside, Roman had squirrelled them away quietly. He hadn’t been able to stop running his fingers over the gracefully curved ink and flowing, tender words for a long time. Guiltily, Roman kept them in a separate box. He didn’t know how to contact his nemesis/admirer and wanted to let them down gently, after all. Before he caught them to lock them away, of course. He just wasn’t entirely ready to give up this feeling. He’d never been courted this way before and it had softened him towards his nemesis.

Virgil returned to Logan more relieved than he had been before, especially since Miss Van der Beek’s friends had come through and had written the most outrageous fan-mail. Roman huddled up comfortably, opening one last letter with Patton before lunch. It was a square, heavy envelope made from cream colored thick, expensive paper. The card inside was heavy and decorated with ornate, delicate gold finishing on the curved corners. It opened in the middle and admitted a view of a beautifully printed card. It read

Invitation

to the Morgan’s annual charity ball 2020

at the Ritz Carlton

 All the air seemed to have left the room. The paper tilted in front of Roman’s eyes and slipped from his numb fingers.

*

“I just don’t understand – after all those years…” Roman stared at the invitation, almost vibrating with nervous energy. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw his father’s face turn to stone as he refused to change his ways after nana’s burial. Even after such a long time, it was still crystal clear in his mind.

He wanted to jump up and pace frantically, yet he couldn’t bear to lose the grounding touch of the men gathered around him. Patton had pressed himself against his side as tightly as possible while Logan stood over him, tall and solid, keeping a firm hand on the back of his neck. Only Virgil was sitting with some distance between them since he was clearly too upset to soothe anyone. The golden embossed paper seemed to cause his fury to boil over almost entirely by itself. He looked pale and angry and… he snatched Roman’s sleeve with a thin hand, holding on tightly. His eyes were dark and so hurt on Roman’s behalf.

“They chased me away. Why would they want me there now?” He asked softy, looking at his family with a lost, helpless gaze.

The young detective agonized over the invitation for most of the day, carrying it around and reading it over and over again. Even the presence of Remus during lunch didn’t manage to get a rise out of him in this distraction, which clearly made the professor sulk. Especially since he had a few words to say about those republicans! Thankfully, Virgil and Logan made him some calming herbal tea after lunch (leaf piss, in his opinion but okay), and spent some time debating the advantages of actually murdering and eating the rich while nesting on Logan’s cozy balcony. Patton took Roman’s hand to go on a walk to help him clear his head. It helped.

“A Prince doesn’t shy away from a challenge. I owe it to my pride to go. I can and will do this with my head held high!” He proclaimed proudly at the dinner table the same night. Patton squeezed his hand in support, smiling at him warmly.

*

“I can’t do this! What was I thinking???” Roman wheezed, trying to calm his racing heart the next morning. “This is the height of hubris – I have fallen victim to the folly of man! There is no way I’m going!” He howled, pulling on his hair and staring at the letter like it would explode. What had he been thinking???

*

By midday, Roman proudly projected his voice through the entire flat from his perch on the coffee table. “I will be proud and gallant and dazzle everyone with my charming compliments and dashing appearance and my family shall be devastated to see what they missed when they threw away their most glittery offspring!”

His figure was bathed in the brightest sunlight. His fears forgotten, Roman was ready to take on anything!

*

“What if it was a mistake? Is this a mistake?” Roman wailed, flailing around with the mangled invitation in hand only an hour later. His eyes were wild. He’d been carrying the expensive paper everywhere with him, swinging erratically between nervous episodes of self-doubt and fear of his father and loud and boisterous assertions of confidence. His hair had become an utter mess from running his hands through it during dramatic monologues and moments of insecurity alike. The others were trying to allow him to come to a decision himself, but the lovely detective appeared to be coping poorly with the freedom.

Half an hour later, he was once again standing on the couch, posing heroically.

“Finally they shall see what a marvelous protector their son has become! A shining knight! A handsome hero dressed in blue!” He boasted, wide eyed and clearly trying to convince himself of his own worth – even as he was asserting his superiority, he was slipping into a pit of self-hate.

Virgil wanted to kill someone.

Seeing this beautiful, confident man spiral so deeply into mental instability because of a letter was ripping him open inside with nowhere for the blood and fear to go but the boiling maelstrom that was his protective fury.

That wasn’t what Roman needed now, though. Taking a deep breath, the barista reached for his man.

Virgil grabbed a hold of Roman’s surprisingly trim waist and pulled his heavy body down next to him. His mood swings between elation and terror were wearing the young man thin. Resigned and too tired to overthink, he yanked the already slightly worn invitation from the tan hands, chucked it on the coffee table, and folded his body onto the large detective’s lap in the wild, desperate hope to pin him down finally. He seemed to love when Patton did it.

The bold move made him sweat with anxiety, yet it was a much more comfortable form of comfort than talking about the issue and ending up insulting Roman’s family as he so desperately wanted. Physical contact had helped calm Roman down most so far, but Logan wasn’t here to grab his partner in a silent, firm hug that squished him against his chest until he grew quiet and Patton was on the phone with his staff, so no tangling his soft limbs with Roman’s now either.

Virgil had tried to keep his distance from the issue after Remy had explained that Roman needed to make his own decision. He probably hadn’t meant brooding in silent fury (while telling Patton what he was angry about and awkwardly reminding him that he loved him all the time).

He couldn’t help hating that republican trash that was Roman’s parents even more than before, though. He wasn’t confused about their motivations for a second. Those filthy pieces of shit were sensing an opportunity to improve their reputation with millennials who were rallying against billionaires who exploited the world – the environment as much as their workers – without even paying fucking taxes. Seriously, fuck Trump, fuck Jeff Bezos, fuck the Morgans! They would try to use Roman’s fame and honesty to claim him as a token to show off to liberals, to make themselves look tolerant and likeable with their beautiful, gay hero son. He was acceptable when it was useful to have a diversity card they could pull in debates, now that their homophobia and racism wasn’t as accepted as it used to be. Fuck them with a broken chair.

He couldn’t say all that, though. He’d just make Roman defensive in this terrible way that left Virgil nothing to work with. The taller man was never aggressive with him. Instead he grew quiet and sad and tried to make Virgil feel safe by being submissive and gentle and letting him have his way as he swallowed all of his pain and fear for everyone else’s sake. Roman didn’t need his anger. Logan had already gently told him about all of the fears he and Virgil shared and had offered his support, he didn’t need a reality check Virgil was desperately holding back. Roman knew they were using him – intellectually at least. Yet, his heart was probably hoping they were finally willing to love him.

So Virgil pulled himself together and silently leaned his lithe body against Roman’s broad chest and tried to gather the courage to say yes to the lovely man’s unspoken question.

The invitation contained a plus one.

Virgil had seen the way Roman’s gaze had sought him out hopefully. He wanted him there, which was astonishingly sweet, since Virgil was… well. Virgil. The fact that Roman, who was beautiful and elegant and charming to a dazzling degree wanted to show Virgil on his arm when he knew how judgmental this fucking crowd was, when he knew what they would think…

Yes, it was also completely and utterly terrifying.

Seriously. A charity ball. At the fucking Ritz? Even young and not so messed up Virgil would have hated the thought with the passion of any idealistic, liberal activist. Fucking corrupt money bags trying to look like they cared while they marinated in their arrogance and wealth while kids in America couldn’t pay for their school lunch and went hungry. While they supported putting fricking kids in actual fucking cages seriously what the fuck this really was the cursed time-line.

Also was there a person alive on this planet who fit the aesthetic of the fucking Ritz less than he did? He didn’t think so. Fuck he needed Remy now. He’d promised to help, thank Tesla. Virgil was clinging to that voice in his memory that had told him to ‘breathe, doll. Daddy has fixed lots of tiny girl hair and fashion disasters in his time. We’ve got this, okay, babe?’

Sure. Dressing a feral bat like Virgil for a FUCKING BALL was a piece of cake.

Well, first he needed to see if Roman actually wanted him to come or if that had all been in his head and Virgil was about to humiliate himself so badly, he would have to move out and change his name. Maybe Roman hadn’t asked yet because he wanted to avoid pressuring him with something he knew he was anxious about. OR he had recognized how badly Virgil would look on his arm.

Virgil felt like he couldn’t breathe for a terrifying moment. He used his position in Roman’s lap he’d chosen in a moment of courage to hide his face against the tan, smooth skin of the detective’s neck.

A deep breath left the taller man as Virgil curled close. He wrapped his arms around the thin body and sunk against him gratefully. The purple mane was so soft against his cheek. All thoughts drifted away – invitations as much as sunflower-yellow letters – leaving only the sensation of warm breaths against his skin and a gracefully curved back under his palms. Everything seemed to quiet, to slow down.

Virgil’s body moved slightly with every breath. He was so warm and alive, such a grounding weight in his lap. He arched against his chest willingly to press himself closer, letting Roman feel the way his ribs expanded on every inhale. The darkness behind the young detective’s closed eyes felt soft and safe. He gently moved his palm over the prominent spine, between wing-like shoulder blades. Stress flowed from his body like water. Slowly, their embrace lost its purpose and became lazy and comfortable, a hug for no other purpose than allowing them to exist so close to each other.  

After what felt like a long time of soft tenderness, Roman felt Virgil tense again, knowing he had to get it over with. He couldn’t keep hiding in a cute cop’s arms for the rest of his life because he was embarrassed.

“Listen, man…” He murmured quietly, pulling back slightly. Despite Roman’s hands still resting loosely on his hips, now that he wasn’t curled up and hidden anymore, he felt silly and out of place, suddenly. He really had just sat down in Roman’s lap, huh? What the fuck, Virgil? Heat rose to his cheeks and that just made things a lot worse. He pushed his head down and braced his palms on that hard chest and barreled on.

“Uhm, about- about that invitation. I know you’re anxious about it, and I’m really not good with that shit – I mean – that’s obvious, considering-” He gestured to – all of himself self consciously. “I really don’t know anything about your, eh, your social class and those fancy parties and shit. We’re from pretty, pretty extremely different backgrounds after all, and-”

Roman’s large hand rose to tip Virgil’s blushing face up in order to reassure him (and because it made him feel like a chivalrous knight). His fingers found the pale delinquent’s throat instead. Feeling the racing pulse, he curled his hand around the slender neck right under the jawbone with utter gentleness and brushed it upwards, pushing his chin up slowly.

Virgil’s breath hitched upon feeling the intimate hold he was captured in. It would be easy for the grip to turn punishing, yet he only brushed his thumb over the edge of his jaw and that felt very, very good. Vulnerable in all the right ways.

“What are you trying to say, dearest?” Roman rumbled softly, catching the younger man’s attention from where it had wandered to inappropriate places.

“Uh…” Virgil needed a moment. Roman’s eyes were so vividly green, like sunlight filtered through freshly grown, thin leaves. His mascara made his lashes so long and dramatic and so pretty.

I, uh…” He stuttered again. Roman was biting his lip in amusement, so pleased to have muddled Virgil’s brilliant mind and the barista felt like a useless, horny teenager for the first time in too many years.

A chuckle escaped the detective that was deep and rumbled under Virgil’s palms. He looked at the young man in his lap like he was the sweetest thing.

Feeling his blush flare up, Virgil ducked his head, allowing Roman’s palm to slip onto his cheek. He didn’t force his chin up as he was composing himself. Instead, the manicured hand moved across pale skin and scratched lightly across his scalp. A shiver broke out and raced over the delinquent’s entire back. His mouth fell open in a pleased sigh as he leaned into the caress.

Hell yeah, he could just keep doing that forever, please and thank you. His large palm rested on the pronounced bones of his hip, gripping gently, safely. Virgil could feel the detective’s intense gaze on him like a physical touch. He felt very warm as he leaned closer to that powerful hand in his hair that gave him so much pleasure.

His flush was still hot on his cheeks, yet the heat rising under his clothes wasn’t caused by embarrassment despite the intimacy of the moment. He’d never thought he would be able to let his guard down and be looked at this intimately when Roman made him feel this way. The detective’s other hand moved slowly, brushing up and down his back in the lightest of touches.

Virgil couldn’t help the breathy moan that escaped him. It was totally justified, okay? He felt those muscular thighs shift underneath him, adjusting their positions just a bit, so he was brought more securely into the hold of those strong arms and felt a warm breath on the side of his face.

Suddenly, Roman yanked his hand back as if Virgil had electrocuted him, yelping like a frightened dog. His whole body jumped, jostling Virgil.

“The fuck- Cat, what the actual fuck?” The younger man screeched at the ball of gray fur that had wedged itself between them and was furiously hissing and biting at Roman’s hand. The detective flailed and squirmed, unbucking Virgil in the process and dumping him on the cushions as he tried to escape over the back of the couch from the vicious raccoon. He landed face first with a ‘thump’ and an unmanly whimper.

Patton peeked in from the kitchen, phone between his cheek and shoulder, kitten purring in his big cardigan pocket and mixing bowl in hand. Finding Roman trying to twist into a sitting position while his legs were still sticking over the back of the couch and Virgil being slobbered over by an overly affectionate, possessive raccoon, he shrugged and closed the door behind himself. He and Nugget were not getting involved in that particular jealousy triangle. His kiddos would just need to make do.

“Oh shit, Roman, are you okay, dude?” Virgil asked and he knew, he knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help the laugh bubbling up his chest.

Cat was squishing her fat butt all over his lap, pawing at his shirt and lovingly gnawing on his fingers, looking fucking pleased, fricking narcissistic levels of proud and awed at her prowess, like she’d owned the biggest, baddest villain of the kingdom, like she’d saved the princess and gotten the whole cake. While Roman – well…

The young detective/tragic victim heaved himself up on the backrest and was immediately hissed at fiercely. He snatched his hands to his chest to protect them from more scratches. Peeking over the couch just enough to look over it, his precious hair a mess and his lovely hands badly wounded, donning his best, hurt puppy dog eyes, he found no sympathy from his beautiful wildcat.

Virgil snorted helplessly.

“I’m sorry-” The barista gasped, really, seriously feeling sorry and knowing he shouldn’t be rewarding Cat, he was creating a monster here, but Roman looked so messed up. All of that magnificent hair that usually made him look like a prince falling over his face in messy, fluffy tufts – that betrayed, gorgeous, hilarious face-

He doubled over, snickering turning to wheezing laughter the more he tried to suppress it, and felt Cat purring up a storm from where she was throned on his lap, Queen of the couch, breaker of horny cuddle sessions, bane of Roman’s existence.

Since the purring somehow seamlessly turned to spitting, frothing hissing whenever Roman got too close, the poor, beaten hero had to settle into the armchair facing the love of his life (stolen by a villainous adversary), where he tried not to mope too much. He felt a very justifiable pout coming up.

However, tears were now streaming down Virgil’s face while he made himself lightheaded trying to scold Cat and repress his laughter. He only succeeded in making himself hiccup and devolve into a new peal of giggles.  

Roman melted into the armchair.

*

They were quietly folding blankets and putting away pillows, comfortable with each other even though Cat was still sitting in Virgil’s hoody, occasionally touching the back of his head and neck and gurgling threateningly.

It was alright.

Roman wasn’t a malicious man.

And he would get her back for this…

Glaring secretly at the bristly beast whenever Virgil wasn’t looking, the young detective finally remembered that they had started a conversation before their mutual attraction had overwhelmed them like swooning lovers in a romantic novel.

Giddy at the memory, he briefly amused himself with imagining them on a paperback cover – his own shirt open halfway over his gleaming, muscular chest, even longer hair flying in the breeze, Virgil fainting in his arms, pale and lovely in a Victorian dress – oh my lord. A flush rose hotly to his cheeks, especially as he imagined that trim waist encased in lace and possibly even a corset.

This time, he felt Cat was justified in hissing at him while she reached for him with sharp little paws, trying to take a swipe, craving destruction.

Thankfully, Virgil took his blush as a sigh of anger as he twisted around and saved the enthusiastically violent racoon from tumbling out of his hood in its quest for blood.

“Sorry, Dude. I’ll figure something out.” He promised.

Roman thought he didn’t look nearly alarmed enough. However… his little bird deserved all the valiant defenders he could get. The beast might make him feel safe while Roman wasn’t there to watch over him like the tireless defender he was. In principle, the young detective would not mind prospective rivals to be scared off. Just not himself, did this beast not have any taste?

Perhaps he’d just have to invest more effort in his quest to win over the scraggly protector of his dashing not-damsel’s honor! That he could surely do!

Filled with a new sense of determination, he maturely stuck his tongue out to the raccoon.

Virgil snorted. He was happy.

Roman liked that a lot.

“Before I forget…” He started casually, remembering how important the question had seemed to Virgil. “You wanted to ask me something before we were torn apart so viciously?”

The barista startled, his heart missing a beat with nervousness. Right. That.

“Um, yeah. Yeah, I was just- you don’t have to say yes – obviously! It’s just if you don’t want to go alone- though you probably have plenty of people to go with- I know you have friends and coworkers and… fans… and Logan could go too so you really don’t need me to be in the way but if you want, I – uh…”

“Virgil,” Roman interrupted him gently, hoping with a fluttering heart he wasn’t misinterpreting the stuttering proposition. “Are you offering to go to the ball with me?” He asked gently, quickly adding for his lovely raven’s nerves benefit, “Because while I don’t want to pressure you in any way, going with you on my arm would make me the bravest and happiest man in the world.”

His words were very, very honest. Having Virgil there, as his date, as his to hold in his arm and show off, showing that the gay failure of the family had captured the most beautiful, smartest and strongest creature in the whole word – he would feel like the king in his castle. Nothing could make him feel like he’d succeeded despite being ashamed of his sexuality for so long than to show Virgil as his beautiful prize. Having him would validate all his struggles and make all the suffering worth it.

So no pressure to say yes. Roman was cool with whatever.

Virgil flushed brightly, ducking his head in a familiar gesture to hide under his hair. His heart beat a mile a minute, filling him with awed elation.

And a little bit of terror.

Looks like he was going to the ball after all.

*************************************************

AAAAnd it looks like Virgil will finally need an outfit for the ball. I wonder who will help him???

As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated! If you want to support me, here is my Ko-fi page. Love you guys! Take care and treat yourself to something nice <3

Next Chapter

#Keep him safe #Detective AU #Sanders Sides #my writing #Prinxiety #Logicality #Roman Sanders #Logan Sander #Virgil Sanders #Patton Sanders #Remus Sanders

[hateswifi]

Rising from the Ashes: Of Field Trips and Apologies

So this is Part Fourteen here is to my Master List and Part Thirteen.

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

The next day Tim waiting in the lobby of Wayne Enterprises because he is leading the tour of WE to a graduating French class. He hated leading tours, but the tour guide had been sick and would not be able to lead. All of his siblings were busy along with the tour guides so he was stuck in the lobby waiting for the group to arrive. As the group, he assumed he was leading arrived, he noticed immediately how a small group of three hung back from the rest and they were constantly looking around.

"Hello, are you guys the group from Dupont high school?" Tim asked he received mumbles as confirmation. "Welcome to Wayne Enterprises, I am your tour guide, you may refer to me as Mr. Drake. Follow me now."

The group followed mostly silent, besides an obnoxious group near the front one of the girls, probably the leader, spewing lies none stop. "So ya after the tour I'm going to see my dear Damiboo I've missed him so much! He's been dying to see me again,"  She said the people around her eating up the lies, everyone except for the three in the back.

"Can I get an interview with him? After Ladybug retired and Chat along with the rest of the heroes disowned my blog, I could use a pick me up," The girl with glasses pleaded. Tim scoffed, he would make sure to contact his lawyers during lunch.

"Excuse me, Mr. Drake?" The purple-haired girl asked from the back, she was part of the second, smaller, group. "When will we be going to the Nette factory?"

"We'll be heading there after lunch," Tim stated before continuing to talk about everything about WE.

"So of course Jason Grayson, Tim Todd, and Dick Drake love me, ya know, Damian's brothers," the Italian girl said. 

Tim paused looked her up and down with an eye roll and a scoff said. "You couldn't even get our names right? Who the hell is Jason Grayson, Tim Todd, and Dick Drake? You come to Gotham spewing lies about the richest people in the world and expect not to get caught?"

"What.. What do you... you mean?" the girl started crying while the glasses girl patted her back.

"You know what? Whatever the old man will have a field day, later on, please follow and refrain from speaking. After this testing area we're heading to the cafeteria for lunch," Tim said with a smirk, he couldn't wait for the gala. The last bit of the tour before lunch was uneventful. 

"As you all probably know, you all signed an NDA that was built into your permission slips," people nodded along with what he said. "We're going to be heading into Nette's factories, you are not allowed to speak to any employees, take a picture, or record anything behind this door. We will find out and we here at Wayne Enterprises will sue your as--" he paused not wanting to anger the teacher. "We will sue you and your family for everything and your great-grandchildren will still be paying. Does everyone understand? Perfect!" He then opened the door leading to the factor. Everyone gaped as they looked at the workers. 

"I've known Nette for the longest time I mean we are practically sisters," came from the same girl and her squad had moved further to the back. The trio had moved to the front and was now frantically looking around. 

"You may look from up here, do not touch anything our distract anyone, you have fifteen minutes," Tim said before letting the students disperse. The trio from before approach Tim once the rest of the students had spread out. "How can I help you?"

"Do you know where Marinette is?" the boy whispers.

"We want to apologize," the pink-haired girl whispers as well.

"And we want to know why she faked her death. We're her old friends. I'm Juleka, Luka's younger sister," the purple-haired girl, Juleka, whispers.

"Why are you all whispering and I don't have any idea what you are talking about," Tim says firmly.

"They don't know she is alive and I--- um we don't want them to know. I'm Alix," the pink-haired girl says.

"I'm Kim and the Italian girl, the one who you've obviously noticed is a notorious liar, would say she faked her death for attention," Kim says."Her name is Lila Rossi and she deserves whatever is coming for her."

Tim was about to respond when he heard doors bang open on the floor. Marinette walks in on the phone with Luka, Kagami, Chloe, and a now awake Adrien following.

"Come to lunch, Nette!" Adrien complains trying to grab her arm. "Come on we've been here for almost a day and I feel like I haven't seen you at all."

"We all had dinner last night, we had a game night with Uncle Jagged, and I did your fittings. I'm trying to run a company near a deadline. We'll all go to the Italian place after I finish this phone call and check on the floor," Marinette said, continuing her conversation. She was wearing a white sweater, black jeans, black heels, and red movie star lipstick. Jagged had been so happy when she had called him and told him that she was, in fact, alive, but had just moved. She also told him that she couldn’t be revealed as alive. She explained everything to her Uncle Jagged and he frankly pissed by what had pushed her to stay 'dead'.

"We can't let them see her," Juleka says pleadingly.

"Ok everyone Nette has official business here and everyone must be moving. Which concludes our tour, now please follow me," Tim says trying to get everyone moving.

"But Mr. Drake I'm sure Nette wouldn't mind if her best friend was here," Alya called, trying to get Nette's attention and trying to get a good look at her, but her back was to the group. All they saw was long dark hair, surrounded by familiar heads. "Wait! Those are our friends down there." She screamed as the door was closed. That concluded the tour.

"Did you guys hear something?" Marinette asked as she hung up.

"Maybe some dreams shattering, but nothing else," Chloe snickered, looking to where the group had been.

"Okay then... I'm going to talk to floor manager then we'll meet Dami for lunch," she said, walking away from her friends her heels-clicking as she walked.

After a couple of minutes, they headed out the front of Wayne Enterprises as a group slowly loaded themselves onto a bus.

"Hey, Tim!" Marinette greeted as the student, with an almost familiar-looking outfit, got onto the bus. "You finish a tour?"

"Ya and we gotta talk as soon as possible, you guys heading to lunch?" he asked as he watched the bus drive away. 

"Ya, we're meeting up with Damian, do you want to join us?" Marinette asks, heading towards the Outlaw's limo following her friends. 

"Sounds great and I can tell you what happened," Tim said, getting in the limo after Marinette and her friends.

At the restaurant, Damian had already been waiting. "Sorry it took so long my Prince, I got held up in the factory," Marinette explained giving him a peck on the cheek.

"Ewww get a room," Adrien whined, earning himself an elbow from Gami, as he sat down.

"It's fine Angel," Damian said, pulling out Mari's chair.

"So Luka I met your sister today," Tim said nonchalantly, looking over the menu.

"I was afraid that was going to happen," Luka sighed.

"Your sister is in Gotham and you, Tim, somehow just so happened to meet her," Marinette deadpanned then gasped. "Your tour. Our field trip."

"Explain, Drake," Damian demanded, rubbing his Angel's shoulder.

"They had a tour of Wayne Enterprises today," Tim started but Marinette cut in.

"That I had planned while I was still class president. I thought they were just going to throw out the plan altogether," Marinette said, putting her head on the table.

"We weren't going to say anything when we saw them yesterday because we didn't want to stress you out anymore," Adrien said.

"By the way, we're suing Lila and the glasses girl. I looked into 'Alya' on the way over here and it looks like she could be sued for defamation," Tim said, sipping his water. "There were three who wanted to apologize, Juleka, Alix, and Kim, but we left so the rest wouldn't see you."

"I'm sorry this is too much to take in, whatever you want it's on me. I'm going to clear my head," Marinette said, getting up.

"Angel at least take my jacket it’s windy out today," Damian said, standing as well. 

"Thank you, Damian," She said, putting it on. She then kissed him before leaving.

She transformed into Ladybug and sat on top of a smaller building, closer to the outskirts of Gotham. She dropped down in an alley and detransformed back into Marinette to give Tikki a break. She walks while wearing Damian's oversized jacket that covered most of her form. She is now regretting that she wore heels.

"Marinette?" came a soft, recognizable, murmur. She froze.

"Juleka?" she asks, turning to see the purple-haired girl.

"Can we talk?" she asks, slowly moving closer to Marinette.

"You won't tell anyone, right?" Marinette asks, looking there girl up and down.

"No, but can I bring Kim and Alix. They miss you," Juleka asks, looking at her feet.

"Yes, I'll meet you at that cafe in ten minutes," Marinette says, pointing at a building down the street.

"Thank you so much, Mari, see you soon," Juleka says running to get her friends. Marinette shakes her head and walks to the cafe. Since she left before she could order and eat lunch she ordered a salad and latte. After she had gotten her drink, her old friends walked in and out of breath.

"Dudette... ten minutes... was not... enough time," Alix said, trying to catch her breath.

"Sorry, I forgot you guys would have to run," Marinette said, hailing over the waitress. "Please four water and three menus. Please take a seat."

After the three had caught their breath and ordered, they just stared at her. "We went to your funeral," Alix said slowly in disbelief.

"I know, I was there," Marinette said, taking a bite of her food.

"You were there!? We thought you were dead. How'd we not see you?"

In perfect Mandarian she responded, "I was in disguise as Bridgette." Then translated what she had said.

"That actually makes a lot of sense," Kim says.

"But what doesn't make sense is why? Why all of this in general?" Alix asks, gulping down more water.

"I had no one left in Paris," Marinette explains, waiting for more questions and accusations, she had prepared for this though.

"What about us and everyone else?" Kim asks, looking hurt.

"I was abandoned by everyone I thought cared about me. With my parents gone I didn't need to be in Paris anymore. I was free of everything holding me back," Marinette explains.

"That's fair. I'm sorry, we shouldn't have turned our backs on you," Kim apologizes sincerely.

"We should have known that you wouldn't have done any of that," Alix agrees.

"That wasn't fair of us to accuse of that. We should have trusted our 'Everyday Ladybug'," Juleka said with a sad smile.

"I'm happy you have come to senses, and I forgive you. You went way out of your way to make amends and I learned from people I care deeply about that people are not supposed to hold onto troubles of the past. I forgive you three, I may be able to forgive Alya too, maybe I don't know, but everyone else is going to be a no go," Marinette says, sipping her water.

"Why would you forgive Alya of all people?" Alix asks with a scoff.

"I'll have to explain another story, I was also in Paris as Chloe's childhood friend, Ann, you might have met me. I was visiting my parents' graves, and I guess my own grave when Alya found me there it was before Christmas. She said how she lost sight of how nice I had been and how'd she lost me as a friend," Marinette sighed. "I don't know how she's been, but I might forgive her if she apologizes. Enjoy Lunch-- Dinner? Well, whatever it is, it's on me." she finished, paid the tab then she was gone.

"Everyone is going to see her tomorrow at the fashion show and they will all know the truth, will she be able to explain her actions," Kim asks.

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

Tag list (Open):

@northernbluetongue @melhuney @ladysblackcat @sturchling @otaku4312 @g-arya @smolplantmum @bluefyoto94 @echpr @moonlightstar64 @thesunanditsangel @cutechip @heaven428 @elmokingkong @kass-is-weird @niza13149 @urbanpineapplefarmer @ginamarie1512 @chocolatecatstheron @iggy-of-fans @crazylittlemunchkin @komatsuna-yuki @weird-pale-blonde-person @ellerahs @sinnamonroill @daminett4life @queenmj10 @indecisive-mess-named-me @reyna-avila-ramirez-alreanaldo @lizziejay @etheralentity @sassakitty @f0xylegs @gwennex @miukiiu

#ml New Life AU #ml x dc #ml salt fic #marinette x damian #damimari #damian x marinette #damianette #damian wayne #maribat #marinette x batfam #batfam #lila salt #alya salt #class salt #miraculous ladybug au #miraculous salt #wifiwrites

[the-sword-lesbian]

This War of Mine

Kate sat on the couch in the living room gently thumbing through a new book she’d picked up today. One of the joys of working on her own schedule was that she had plenty of free time to check out a tea shop or a new bookstore if she wanted. This one had caught her eye on the discount shelf, some sort of alternate retelling of Alice in Wonderland. She had to admit, she was enjoying it so far. She heard the garage door close and looked up to see her wife walking in looking tired.

She smiled at Victoria, “Hey Tori. Long day?” 

Instead of answering, the tall woman just dropped her purse and coat on the floor before kicking off her heels and crawling onto the couch to rest her head in Kate’s lap.

Kate started to sense something was wrong so she closed her book and started carding her fingers through her wife’s hair. “Honey are you okay? Rough day at work?”

Victoria just sighed “I haven't been at work.”

“Well then whe-”

“I just spent the last five hours at my lawyer’s office.” she interrupted.

“Wait what?” Kate was now very concerned. “Tori what’s wrong? What happened?”

She didn’t respond for a moment then after a while she exhaled a long sigh and said, “My parents are suing me.”

“WHAT?!” Kate already deeply disliked her inlaws, for numerous justifiable reasons. But the fact that they were still trying to control their daughter's life even at the age of forty-two just made her blood boil. “Why?? For what possible rea-” a terrifying thought struck her and she turned her wife’s head to look her in the eyes. “Tori… it's not…”

“It’s not about the girls.” she said, beleaguered green eyes staring up at her.

Kate breathed a sigh of relief, thinking back to the heart-wrenching six weeks they spent five years ago when Victoria’s parents tried to take custody of her children under some deeply misguided notion of ‘protecting their legacy’. That she and Victoria were somehow corrupting their children by supporting Maddie and letting her be her truest self. She looked back down at her wife. “So then… what do they want?”

Victoria looked up at Kate staring deep into those loving hazel eyes. “They’re trying to sue me for licensing of the name ‘Chase’… Because of the galleries.”

Kate just stared down at her wife in disbelief. “That’s… completely ridiculous.”

“I know”

“Then why are they doing it?” Kate asked, still stunned at the absolute shamelessness of Victoria’s parents that they would try to take her to court over her name of all things. “They can’t seriously think they’ll win can they?”

The taller woman closed her eyes and curled further into her wife’s lap. “Jealousy probably? I've been doing leagues better than them for a while now.” Victoria sighed again as Kate continued running her fingers through her wife's short blonde hair. “And as far as if they think they can win? At this point I think they’re just grasping at straws.”

“Are you worried?” Kate asked

“A little. I think.” her voice came out so small, none of that haughty self-assuredness that she wore like armor everyday. “But John and the others assure me they can’t win. That their entire campaign boils down to baseless attacks and money-grubbing. He said any judge will see right through them.”

Kate opened her mouth to respond but Victoria continued.

“Still though…” She paused for a bit in thought and Kate could tell she was nearing tears. “I thought I was done with them. After last time and the restraining order, I thought I wouldn’t have to deal with them anymore.”

“Shhh Tori.” She reached down and wrapped her arms around her wife despite the awkward angle. “We’ll keep fighting them as long as we have to. And I’ll be there to support you every step of the way.”

Victoria squeezed her eyes shut to fight back the tears and wrapped her arms around the shorter woman’s waist. “I love you so much Katie.”

Kate pressed a kiss to Victoria’s head. “I love you too Tori.”

After a while Victoria reached up to wipe her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater “Sorry for missing dinner.”

Kate chuckled. “You didn’t miss much. It was just me and Ellie. She’s out in the hammock doing some reading for school.”

Victoria raised an eyebrow and snickered. “She’s outside? It’s raining.”

She shrugged. “She’s under the porch, plus she likes the rain.”

“I guess.” Victoria conceded, then after a moment. “But then wait, where’s Maddie?”

Kate grinned conspiratorially, like she was reveling in a secret she wanted to hide. “She’s on a date.”

Victoria narrowed her eyes. “What’s his name? Where did she meet him?”

“Her name is Ameera.” She tried not to laugh at the deer in the headlights look her wife was giving to her. “And she’s on the soccer team with Ellie.”

The taller woman just laid there stunned looking up at her wife, blinking occasionally. “O-kay…” after a bit more blinking she spoke again. “Katie you’re going to have to clarify for me how our daughter Madeline, the most boy-crazy person I have ever met, is on a date, with a girl.”

This time Kate did laugh. “Apparently she made a very compelling case for herself, or so I’m told.”

“...and?”

Kate laughed again. “Oh I don’t know Tori, I found out second hand from Ellie. Something about she thought Maddie was very pretty and talented, and she new she’d only ever dated boys but she wanted to ask her anyway to see what Maddie thought, and if at the end of it she decided she wasn’t interested then no hard feelings and they could be friends instead.”

Victoria sat there for a minute, processing all that. “Huh… Well, I have to admire the girl for trying. I wonder how it’s going.”

“Well I don’t think you’ll have to wait long to ask.” Kate said, looking up. “I see headlights in the driveway.”

Victoria joined her wife in staring at the front door. While they watched a pair of silhouettes walk up the stairs, stand there for a second, lean in together, and then one leave and the headlights drive away before the front door unlocked and their daughter walked in with a smile on and noticed the both of them staring.

“Uhh…” She started after a second. “Hi moms?”

They both responded at once.

“Soooo?” “How was your date?”

The teen giggled. “Nosey much?”

Victoria scoffed, “We’re your mothers, it’s our job.” 

Maddie rolled her eyes. “Well if you haaaaaaave to know. It was a perfectly nice date, we walked in the park for a bit until it started raining and then she took me to dinner at this greek place then drove me home.”

Kate replied. “So? What do you think? Potential for a second date?”

The young girl sat on the seat across from them, eyes in her lap, and thought to herself for a moment before responding. “I don’t think so. It was a good time, and she’s really sweet, but I don’t think I’m interested in girls in that way.”

Victoria narrowed her eyes and grinned, “But you did kiss her...”

Maddie looked up at her mother, wide-eyed with a blush cascading down her cheeks. “Oh my gosh. Mama!”

Victoria snickered at that. “That isn’t a ‘no’ Madeline Chase. Plus the front door is glass, kind of hard to miss that.”

The teen was well and truly flustered, stuttering out a reply. “I-I gave her a goodnight kiss. On the CHEEK. Because she deserved it for taking me out on a wonderful date.”

Her mother smiled at her. “I’m sorry Maddie, I’m just teasing you. I’m glad you had a nice night.”

Maddie crossed her arms and turned her head away in a faux pout before seeing Victoria’s coat and bag on the floor and not hung up and put away as she was normally so fastidious about doing. “Mama?” She looked back towards her mother with concern. “Is everything okay?

Victoria gave her a soft smile. “Everything’s fine honey. Just a long day at work.” She hoped it sounded more convincing than it felt.

“Okay.” she said seemingly appeased. “Is Ellie home?”

Kate nodded towards the porch. “She’s out back.”

Maddie smiled at her mothers before she hopped up and practically skipped over to the back door, going to join her sister in the oversized hammock.

Kate looked down at her wife. “You’re not going to tell her?”

Victoria exhaled a long breath. “No. My parents have caused her enough stress to last a lifetime. I can handle this without her or Ellie having to worry.” She reached her hand up to softly touch Kate’s cheek. “Plus… I know I can lean on you when things get hard.”

Kate smiled at her before leaning down to press their lips together. “Always.”

#life is strange #lis #victoria chase #Kate marsh #Maddie Chase #chasemarsh #chasemarsh kids #The Family Chase

[minervahopebeyond]

Blood Daffodils.

Hello!! OMG, I can’t believe I’m finally posting this chapter ✨ I’m so so nervous but I just wish that you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it 💕 Let me know what you thought in the comments! 🙌🏻 Ps. I’ve checked but I’m sorry if you find any errors in this one.

Chapter 15: You Take My Breath Away.

Draco knew that running away, bargaining with death, having your best-friend/ex-boyfriend (if he could call Theo that) turn himself into a Death Eater, and being currently hunting horcruxes, could change a person and their perspective of life. That was why his first reaction to him noticing the Golden Trio’s behavior was: maybe I’m just paranoid.

Yeah, right.

They were hiding. They were keeping secrets. They were lying to his face about it, saying that absolutely nothing was going on. Draco was starting to get really pissed off about it.

He was climbing up the stairs when he heard the love quarrel that actually wasn’t one.

“He has to tell him before that, Mione” Weasley whispered rather loudly. It was weird that the muffliato wasn’t in place, most of the times Ron was the one who reminded everyone about it.

“I’m not talking this with you, Ronald. You heard him loud and clear yesterday.”

Wild guess: they were talking about Potter. It was a pretty heavy assumption because yesterday the two of them almost didn’t talk to Draco nor James and Sirius.

“He is lying. How can you not see it? You’re supposed to be the brightest witch our age!”

“Okay, so you want to risk it then? Go on. Do it yourself. I don’t want that on my conscience.”

The flowers in his lungs started to scratch him. He was just hoping that they weren’t talking about the Hanahaki... There were little things that Granger wasn’t willing to do, and telling Harry the truth about Draco’s condition was one of them. Weasley had held it in for longer than he expected, he guessed that it was only because he couldn’t be a hundred percent sure that Potter loved him back. The only thing that everyone in the house knew for sure was that Potter fancied Draco, and Draco fancied Potter. There was this grey area where Sirius and Mr. Potter looked at him funny whenever he was with Harry and, occasionally, he wondered if actually everyone knew that Potter fancied Draco, and that Draco was hopelessly in love with Potter.

He walked toward Granger’s room and knocked.

“...Yes?” She said.

“Can I come in?” Draco asked gently.

Soon enough, the door was being opened and Weasley was looking at him worriedly. He couldn’t blame him, Draco only was this gentle when something was wrong.

“I’m bored.” He stated in a lame attempt of getting them to stop talking about whatever nonsense they were talking about.

“Well, I’m going to take a shower.” Replied Granger as she grabbed her change of clothes and walked off her room. Weasley followed with her eyes and then turned to look at Draco.

“I’m going to start cockblocking you and Harry if you interrupt me and Mione one more time, ferret.”

“Does it really count as cockbloking if I interrupted when you were sitting two meters away from each other? And fighting?”

“Considering that you and Harry had like five and a half years of fighting as flirting then yes”

Draco blushed and pulled a face.

“We weren’t flirting.”

“Maybe he wasn’t (which I doubt) but you were.” Weasley said as it was the most obvious thing in the world before asking him to play chess with him.

———————

Dear Theodore:

You would know if someone were planning to stab you behind your back, right? Because sometimes I feel like this disgrace to Salazar’s name for trusting people too much. I trusted you to choose to run away with me, for instance... Okay, low shot, sorry.

I’m panicking. Potter, Granger and Weasley are acting weird and my flowers are hurting me more than usual, like a warning maybe? And I don’t know what the hell to do. I don’t have a clue about why they are hiding things. I asked James and Sirius about it and the only one who has the same feeling as I have is my cousin. Mr. Potter says that it’s just because we have trust issues. If I’m lucky enough James is right and this is all in my head.

It would be so much help to have you around, you’d wouldn’t be afraid to call this fuckers out in their stupidity. I try not to be afraid to say what I think but I fear that I can’t afford having another fight with Harry after the last one, i coughed enough flowers as it is.

Please be safe and don’t be stupid,

Draco.

———————————

He was finishing his make up. It felt weird to care for something so banal and shallow in the middle of a war... But it was his first date with Potter in his entire life so sue him for acting as it were the only thing in the world that mattered right now.

When Harry has asked him out the flowers almost tried to jump off his lungs to get to the boy. Their awful timing was something truly remarkable. Potter watched the petals fall from Draco’s mouth and his face darkened. Before he could take back the offer, he responded enthusiastically:

“Yes, I would love to.” With a smile to match his happiness. Potter nodded and smiled right back at him and Draco thought that he was going to pass out from the tickles alone.

Now, as he was finishing applying the soft silver eyeshadow, he begged for the flowers to behave tonight. Coughs made Potter sad and nervous, so they needed to be kept at bay.

He looked at his reflection, taking in the image. Maybe it was too grey? He thought as he added some glittering white in the inner part of his eyelid, giving him a little more light in his look. As far as he knew, Potter liked when he used make up, he always got nervous and his cheeks turned red. The only logic assumption was that, yes, Harry liked him with make up.

What he didn’t know was whether if Potter liked his muggle clothes or his posh robes more... Draco always felt more attractive in muggles clothes, though. He guessed that remembering Theodore taking one look at him in muggle’s jeans and pushing him up against the door of the room of requirement to snog his face off had something to do with that. And Theo was a lot of things, but he truly had taste (aesthetically speaking) so Draco was going to trust him on this one.

He took one last look in the mirror. The black jeans hugged his legs leaving little to the imagination... They were Sirius’ actually, they just didn’t fit him anymore so he gave them to Draco as well as a lot of other stuff. The black combat boots were the only ‘not formal’ shoes he had and giving that he was wearing jeans he chose to wear them with the outfit. A tight black T-shirt and his favorite green oversized sweater too. He looked good, he just wished that Potter would think the same.

He left the bedroom and started to walk down to the kitchen. Harry had asked for him to meet him there, and he had absolutely no idea what the boy had in mind to achieve have a date in a house full of people. As he got closer the voices in the kitchen became clearer.

“I’m going to cry, Padfoot! Look at our boy.” Mr. Potter’s voice sounded so fond and sweet.

“Dad stop it!”

“I can’t believe that you actually matched your clothes, Harry. You didn’t even try when you dated Cho or Ginny.”

The daffodils started to dance when they heard Granger say those words. ‘WE ARE SPECIAL. WE ARE SPECIAL. WE ARE SPECIAL.’ He smiled softly and stopped himself from entering just so he could hear a little bit more.

“Do you remember the charms, Prongslet? If at some point you need them and you can’t remember just knock on our door, alright? Better safe than sorry-“ Sirius said and the flowers started to tickling him to death, his face was blushing. Good thing that Potter interrupted him.

“Shut up, Padfoot! As if you don’t remember making me take notes of the whole bloody talk.”

“Hey, don’t forget the silencing charms, mate” Weasley said playfully and Draco decided that Potter was tortured enough for one evening. He turned the knob and entered the kitchen.

As soon as he crossed the door, his eyes went directly to Potter who was standing right across of the room. He looked gorgeous, his jeans weren’t as baggy as they normally were, maybe someone tried to transfigure them for him. His flannel blue shirt contrasted with his beautiful green eyes. His hair wasn’t fixed, Draco guessed that Harry was aware that he liked it just as the bird’s nest that it was. And lastly but not less important: Potter’s cheap cologne was all over the room, it was the only thing that he was capable of smelling.

Harry was looking at him, frozen in place. The blush in his cheeks was quickly invading his entire face. Weasley pushed him in Draco’s direction, gaining a glare from Potter before the beautiful green eyes locked with his grey ones.

“Yo-You look n-nice, Malfoy.” The stuttering was so cute that the daffodils started to scream to kiss him senseless. Patience, you stupid flowers.

“Nice? He looks hot!” Weasley said with and indignant tone in his voice, Draco couldn’t help but to chuckle. He saw Granger punching the redhead in the arm and his friend let out a pained noise. “What? I don’t like blokes and even I see it.”

Potter was getting pretty annoyed with his friend so Draco decided to change the subject.

“You are not that bad yourself, Potty” He said smirking and Harry offered him a gorgeous smile.

The rest of them where whispering like children and Draco contains his urge to snort and tell them to fuck off.

The boy gestured to follow him and they went up the stairs. When he asked why he had suggested to meet in the kitchen, Potter responded that it was actually Sirius’ and Mr. Potter’s request; they had mentioned not being able to help Harry to choose his robes for the Yule ball or to give him dating advise in general, so maybe watching him go (even though they were staying in) to his date was like a symbolic thing for them.

They were standing in the hallway then, right in the middle of it. Harry took out his wand and mumbled an incantation as he pointed it to the ceiling. A wooden trap door manifested itself. Draco frowned.

“It’s the attic. I wanted to go somewhere but we can’t leave... Dad mentioned this to me.” He clarified before waving his wand and making the door open to reveal a wooden set of thin stairs that leaded to said attic. Potter made a playful bow and said: “After you, Sir”

Draco raised his eyebrows with an amused face and started to climb up the stairs, trying to hold on tight to the railing because the bloody thing was too steep. The flowers were dancing so happy that he felt dizzy.

“A true gentleman then.” The blond boy replied as he was four steps higher than the boy.

“Actually, I just wanted to look at your arse.” He said with that sassy and playful tone that Draco loved so much. He almost chocked with the petals as he snorted.

As soon as he saw it, he gasped. It was beautiful. There were shining color lights hanging above them, the only illumination that the room had... But there were hundreds, at least it seem so, the entire ceiling was covered up with them.

“Did you do this...?” He asked, his eyes still fixed in the beautiful lights.

“Yeah... Found them up here. Sirius used to be obsessed with Christmas lights... He charmed them to work without electricity, says that it took him about four months.” The boy walked towards where he was and looked up as well. “My grandparents used to hang them around the house for the holidays, Dad told me that they didn’t like them much, but Padfoot was so happy when my Grandmother offered the first time that they started to hang them every year.”

“Euphemia sounds like an angel.” And when he turned to look at him, the boy was smiling warmly and nodding.

The date was wonderful. Harry had prepared a picnic, they ate on the floor with a blanket and cushions that were a whole more prettier than the ones that were at the living room. Draco suspected that the boy had transfigured them himself.

They ate and talked and laid over the blanket to watch the lights above them. Draco was fascinated with them and Harry apparently was fascinated with Draco, because he could feel his eyes on him... All the time. The flowers couldn’t stop tickling him.

“Draco.” The green eyed boy called for him.

Something in him shifted. When he turned his head to look at those marvelous green eyes, he was hit with unimaginable want. The Daffodils, him, it was all the same now. Because Potter did this for him. He worked so hard to give Draco this, to show that he cared... Even if it never got to love, how could he keep avoiding this?

“Harry.” He responded, almost like a whisper.

The dark-haired boy ran his fingers through his hair and Draco shivered, closing his eyes.

“I’m so glad that you saved me in fifth year.” Potter said, so honest and kind. Draco could have cried of happiness just from those words alone. The flowers twirled inside of him. “I’m so happy that you are here.” He wanted to kiss him, it felt like it was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“I’m happy to be here too. With you” Draco added softly before leaning, closing the short distance that was between them, and pressing his lips over Harry’s.

The unbearable need to be with him, to be as close to him as it was physically possible, felt like fire... It felt like a fire that came from deep within him, bright and hot, burning everything in its path... Somehow it felt like the flowers were part of it too, like they were dancing around Draco’s heart, in the middle of the fire and they were enjoying every second of it.

Everything felt so new... The way that Harry was grabbing his sweater, the noises he made, his gorgeous green eyes reflecting the colorful lights that shone above them... It felt so new, so perfect... And he felt so utterly, irrevocably, in love with this boy... No, this man. Because that was what Harry had become, that was who he was kissing senseless, the man he was in love with: Harry James Potter.

And he couldn’t find it in him to hold back anymore. Maybe the flowers would get even more clingy and needy after this, but who cared? It didn’t matter. It was meaningless compared to Harry. Everything was meaningless compared to him.

Being so close to him was perfect, it felt like their bodies were made for each other... That their paths were meant to cross, to give them this. Even with all the fights, the banter, their different values and opinions..

They were made to learn from each other. They were meant to know the other so well that, even without speaking a kind word for five years, they could still understand each other. They were meant to slowly accept the other, with every flaw and every strength... They were meant to learn how the other smiled, cried and kissed.

And Draco gave Harry a part of his heart with every touch, with every single kiss and praise that he whispered into his ear. He gave him whatever he could, feeling like the luckiest person in the world...

Even with the Hanahaki, even if this was just temporary... He didn’t regret a single thing.

Later that night, in Potter’s bedroom, after they climbed down the stairs of the attic, still kissing as they smiled, trying not to fall, Draco found himself with Harry sleeping soundly on his chest. The Daffodils were so drugged that he could barely feel them. The smell of Potter was different, mixed with his smell...

As he closed his eyes, the lyrics of the song just appeared in his head. It was weird because he never particularly felt attached to that song... Not like with the others... But he just kept singing it in his head until he fell asleep.

Look into my eyes and you'll see

I'm the only one

You've captured my love

Stolen my heart

Changed my life

Every time you make a move

You destroy my mind

And the way you touch

I lose control and shiver deep inside

You take my breath away

You can reduce me to tears

With a single sigh

(Please don't cry anymore)

Every breath that you take

Any sound that you make

Is a whisper in my ear

I could give up all my life for just one kiss

I would surely die

If you dismiss me from your love

You take my breath away

So please don't go

Don't leave me here all by myself

I get ever so lonely from time to time

I will find you

Anywhere you go, I'll be right behind you

Right until the ends of the Earth

I'll get no sleep till I find you to tell you

That you just take my breath away

I will find you

Anywhere you go

Right until the ends of the Earth

I'll get no sleep till I find you to

Tell you when I've found you -

I love you

#drarry #fanfic #fanfiction #prongsfoot

[mhaccunoval]

@pacificrimdyke it’s no fic but,,, it’s Something,,,,,,,,

It was four in the afternoon on a calm day, one with relatively nice weather for once, when the first knock came on the door. Unfortunate for the person behind it, he was too fixated with his task at hand to even register the sound, occupied with making sure his stitching was even and not stabbing his fingers like he had done a thousand times before. Even if he had processing the noise, he wouldn’t have wanted to get up to answer anyway, partly because he had finally gotten comfortable on the raggedy old couch he called a seat and a bed, partly because he was sat in only his boxers and a t-shirt, having expected to have another hour or two before anyone would bother him. But, the person behind the door was persistent, knocking again and making it loud enough that he shuddered and inevitably poked the pad of his index finger, cursing under his breath and sucking at the wound at the first sign of blood.

“Charlie, let me in!” a shrill voice called, prompting him to roll his eyes.

“The door’s unlocked, Dee.” He shouted back, wiping his hand on his thigh as he listened to the door creak open.

“You gotta stop leaving the door unlocked. Someone’s going to-- What are you doing?” Dee questioned as she stopped dead in her tracks when she noticed what he was in the middle of.

“What’s it look like? I’m fixing a hole in my pants,” Charlie retorted, thinking it was obvious, “If anything, I should be asking the questions and my first one is what the hell are you wearing?”

Dee glanced down at her outfit as if she had forgotten what it consisted of and looking back at him with a slight scowl. She was wearing an oversized pastel sweater that was showing off one of her bra straps and white cut-off shorts that accentuated her long legs, completed by yellow low-top converse with no visible socks. Her hair was drawn into a haphazard bun, likely thrown up when she walked over and her neck began to heat up, reminding her that she was in Philly not anywhere where the weather was already cooling off. She shook her head and maneuvered around the coffee table to sit beside him, drawing one leg up to her chest and resting her other foot on the table, ready to promptly ignore any protests that could come up.

“So sue me, I thought it was cute. You wouldn’t get it, you’re not a lesbian.” She scoffed, picking at the fringe on her shorts.

“Thank God for that.” Charlie muttered, eyes flicking back to his project as he tried to resume working.

“I gotta say, I’m surprised you’re finally fixing that rip.” She confessed, trying to deter from his quip and change the subject.

“Well, when we all decided to go to Guigino’s for dinner, I realized that these were my best jeans and I didn’t want to look even more stupid next to Emory just because I had a hole in my best jeans.” He sighed, biting his lip in concentration and awkwardness.

Emory. The scientist-turned-boyfriend that Charlie had wrapped around his finger-- or more so, Emory had Charlie wrapped around his. They utterly adored each other, especially because going into therapy had given Charlie the resources to work on himself and Emory had begun to learn about the goodness in his heart that had been clouded by less pleasant traits and memories. Admittedly, Dee was pretty happy for them but not as happy as she was in her own relationship, having come to terms with her sexuality and recognized her repressed feelings for a certain coffee shop blonde. At first, she thought Charlie would be mad when she told him that she bagged the waitress, but instead, he congratulated them and told her of his blossoming relationship, giving her whiplash from the unexpected support. In fact, the aforementioned “we all” was in regards to the four of them, who had gotten quite close since Dee and Charlie took to therapy and the relationships began, actively doing things together and enjoying each other’s company. It was actually quite fun to spend that time together and it made for good opportunities to bond.

Of course, their newfound happiness didn’t stop Charlie from constantly worrying about appearances and making the wrong move. Emory was a very poised and articulate man, which sometimes unintentionally made Charlie feel slightly inferior, often unable to keep up with his class and fancy manners. Emory constantly assured him that it was far from being a flaw but the reassurance never fully dampened his fears. And in the moment, Dee could tell how badly he was overthinking with the way the green of his eyes became tinged with blue-grey at the edges, something she could tell even from where she was sitting. Something about watching the hidden vulnerability reminded her of her own frail thoughts she had been having lately, thinking of past wrongdoings where insecurities and vulnerability had intervened only to amplify the situation in a way that was disastrous for both parties involved.

“Hey, Charlie, We’re good, right?” She swallowed thickly, one thought in particular re-emerging and attempting to bubble over.

“Uh, yeah? I mean we’re going on a double date in a few hours with our partners so I don’t know why we wouldn’t be.” Charlie paused to look over at her with a cocked brow.

“It’s just… Lately, I’ve been thinking about how much therapy is helping the both of us and how we’re better than we’ve ever been,” Dee explained, “And I just… Keeping thinking about the whole missing the boat incident and then the sexual harassment seminar and--”

“Listen, Dee,” He interrupted her, “I’m… I’m not over it by any means because it was shitty of you and uncomfortable for me. But therapy and Em have helped me accept that it happened and there’s nothing I can do to change that. And at least you finally see how awful it was.”

She met his eye as he said that, causing him to shrug as if it was nothing. They both knew it was much more than just nothing but perhaps it wasn't the right time to sit and have a full conversation about it, like they sparingly had at the seminar. Conceding with that wordless logic, she simply nodded and scrambled to think of what to say next. As she did, Charlie basked in the moment of silence to put in the last few stitches and turn the jeans right side out again to admire the fruits of his labor, the denim looking as good as new-- or close to it, given the natural fading and wear. Picking up on his small smile, a semblance of a response was sparked in Dee’s mind, just needing to be adjusted slightly so that it would actually sound like a compliment.

“As much as me and the guys shit on you, you really are a good friend, you know that right?” She told him softly, living up to her nickname for once in her life.

“Oh, I know.” Charlie’s smile curled into a full grin and his eyes lit up devilishly, making her regret having said anything.

“Asshole.” She half-growled as she punched him in the arm, though not entirely meaning any of it.

“Bitch.” He chuckled, using all his willpower to make his returning punch as light as possible and not snap her arm like the twig that it was.

Satisfied with what he had accomplished, he stood up and stretched, Dee playfully gagging at being subjected to look at his ass despite it being covered by his boxers. The display reminded her why she was glad she had finally acknowledged she had no attraction to men because they were far from flattering, especially when they were Charlie goddamn Kelly. Charlie ignored her disdain, slipping the jeans on and beginning to dig through his closet for a button-up, blazer, and tie so that his top half was lavish in the least. Dee just went back to picking at her shorts while he rifled, mentally going through her own wardrobe to decide what to wear that night, wondering what Rosemary (yes, that was the waitress’s real name) was going to wear and if they should match. Once he had grabbed everything, Charlie resurfaced and snickered to himself as he watched the cogs turn in her head and the way she traced shapes onto her thigh.

“Please tell me you’re changing before dinner.” He joked, still trying to keep his composure.

Her head snapped up to glare at him before she barked, “Har, har, har, asshat. Of course I am.”

His cackle turned a full body laugh, which made it impossible to not laugh along, even with her feigned anger. He was an asshole but he was usually a funny one and a good one to keep around. All she could hope for were more laughs like this in their brightening futures.

#pant rambles #mhac writes #iasip #charlie kelly #dee reynolds #implied -> #charbitch #deetress #ficlet #drabble #¯\_(ツ)_/¯