#-miserable that i spent almost an entire day laying down on my couch once and sleeping through it instead of being the little ipad baby i-

[thoughts-of-kel]

gm kel!! I would usually be in school BUT I slept in bc I'm sick so now I get the whooooole day off! YIPPEE

i hope u feel better but at the same time HOORAY!!!!!

#kel story time #<- this time in the tags #one time i got so sick i ended up staying home from school for 8 days straight it was like an awful fever and i was so unbelievably- #-miserable that i spent almost an entire day laying down on my couch once and sleeping through it instead of being the little ipad baby i- #-was. see not many people beleive me when i say this but after i get a fever i grow somewhere from half an inch pr more taller. #i wish i was kidding because the last time i got a fever (A FEW MONTHS AGO) i grew half an inch and could now declare myself 5“5. #no shoes on. just bare feet on the ground. i am now 5“5 because of my fever. #anyway storytime over ty for coming to my ted talk #thoughts #thoughts of kel

[angryinternetduck]

yellow & blue

[not my pic] Hello and welcome to 2.7k words of pure angst! This doesn’t really have a purpose lol but it’s sad and angsty and features 2020 Brits Harry so why not!!! Have some depressed Harry, angelic reader, and yellow suits. Featuring Harry Styles x famous!reader. Inspired by Woman by Harry Styles, It Isn’t Right by the Platters, and When I Was Your Man by Bruno Mars (which should give you an idea of just how angsty this is lmao).

The first time he met you, Harry was wearing a yellow suit. The first thing you said to him was a compliment about it. That suit sparked a conversation, and that conversation sparked an interest, and that interest sparked the best two years of Harry’s life.

If Harry said he hadn’t thought about that suit while preparing for the 2020 Brits, he’d be lying.

The chatter of the table he’s at isn’t boring by any means, but it’s not anywhere near captivating enough to keep Harry’s attention on the conversation and off of you. He heard about your new boyfriend, of course - who hasn’t - but this is your first public appearance together and Harry is having just a little bit of trouble breathing.

It’s been four months. Four months since you broke up, three since the news went public.

As far as the public knew, the separation was mutual. As a brand new artist, you needed to take a second to find yourself as a person. As Harry Styles, the man the myth the legend, Harry needed to focus on his next album and possible future acting career. He also supported you in your decision, and knew that the two of you would, of course, remain the best of friends.

Most of that’s true. You only just released your second album - which is doing spectacularly, of course - and Harry really does need to get this next album done. But it wasn’t mutual. Harry doesn’t think any of his break ups have been truly mutual. You broke up with him. There isn’t really any getting around it. Not that the public has to know.

The problem is that Harry understands why you broke up with him. As heartbreaking as it is, he realizes what he did. He knows that he wasn’t a good boyfriend. He doesn’t really have an excuse, either; he can explain away his faults all he wants, but at the end of the day, you’re just too good for him.

Which makes it all the more depressing to watch you positively glow without him.

Part of him wants to go over and beg for your forgiveness. He wants to walk over and get on his knees and say, I love you with all my heart and I’ll never make another mistake again and I’ll love you forever and ever, please, please take me back, I’ll do anything.

Another part of him loves you too much to do that. Maybe you’re meant to be with this new guy. Maybe he’s your one, your only, the one worthy of all your love and attention. Maybe he’ll make you happy in ways Harry never did.

Because really, all Harry wants is for you to be happy. He wants you to glow like this all the time, to forget the feeling of sadness, to never cry a single tear again. He wants the only pain you ever feel to be an ache in your cheeks from all your smiling.

He just wishes he could be the one putting that smile on your face.

One thing he’s noticed is that your happiness seems to coincide directly with his. Whenever you’re happy, he’s happy. Not at the moment, actually, because you seem happy as a clam and Harry feels like his chest is caving in on itself, but whenever Harry thinks “happiness,” he thinks of moments with you. Of moments when you were happy. Moments when you were happy because of him, with him, for him.

He surprised you with a picnic one year for your birthday. He went all out, spreading a blanket down and everything, and the two of you drank wine, ate sandwiches and snacks out of a picnic basket, and talked in Harry’s back yard until after the sun came up.

Whenever Harry thinks “happiness,” that is the moment that pops into his head.

It wasn’t a loud sort of happiness, either. It wasn’t a bouncing on top of the world, adrenaline rushing through his blood, head pounding with excitement and joy and energy sort of happiness. He wasn’t breathless or wide eyed or buzzing with emotion.

No, this was a quiet happiness. It was the very definition of content. It was your head on his shoulder, your hand intertwined with his, your whispers of, “I love you,” the soft kisses exchanged as the sun set and the stars began to twinkle into the sky. It was your giggles at his jokes, your eyes brighter than the moon, softer than the wispy clouds suspended in air.

Harry’s getting a hollow ache in his chest just thinking about it. It hurts, really, because each of those memories, those days, those nights, carved a little hole in him and filled him with love and adoration and the purest happiness anyone’s ever experienced in the history of the world.

Now that you’re gone, that happiness has disappeared and all that’s left is a hollow, empty pit.

Since you’ve been gone, other memories have started creeping out of the shadows. These are different memories, memories of Harry’s failure and your disappointment and nights spent apart and tears sliding down your cheeks.

The problem with these memories is that it’s not a specific memory. It’s not one singular memory that Harry can turn over and over in his head and decide what went wrong. It’s not one thing that Harry can think about and solidify and apologize for.

It’s a whole bunch of things. It’s all the nights spent at the studio instead of with you. It’s all the last minute anniversary gifts and half hearted, distracted dinners, and all the forgetting of events and details. It’s the gradual falling away of random weeknight flowers, it’s the slow decline of hidden poems around the house he set out for you to find.

Well, maybe there is one thing. It might have been that one date night he cancelled. It was at the very end, during the knowing glances after frequent fights, after the slow, painful descent into acceptance but before the official conversation.

Dancing with the Stars had come on TV one night.

“Hey, I’m a star,” you murmured to him, curled up against him on the couch.

“Got that right,” Harry hummed, and you smiled up at him, and that smile made this night one of the good memories. “It should be just us two,” you told him, watching the pairs made up of one professional dancer and one celebrity dance on screen. “No professional.”

You giggled. “Yeah, we’re too good for them anyway.”

You took to dancing around the house after that night. Your dancing always brought a smile to Harry’s face. Funny how all you had to do was twirl, laugh, smile, breathe, and Harry would want to smother you in kisses and gift you his entire heart.

Sometimes you managed to rope him into it. Often you wouldn’t. Often, Harry would wake up to soft music playing in the kitchen, and he would walk in and see you dancing. He’d sip his coffee, and you would spin around and make up fancy footwork, and Harry would grin and blow you kisses and whisper, “I love you.”

He offered to take you dancing one night. He lay next to you in bed and traced his fingertips over your cheeks, lips, nose, and told you all about the night the two of you would have. He talked about live music and warm food and twinkling stars and dancing. You closed your eyes and smiled and hummed one of his songs, and Harry kissed you.

Then he got busy at the studio on the night you decided on. He stayed long. He called you. You didn’t pick up, because you were in the shower, getting ready for you big night. And you didn’t see the voicemail until after you were ready, until after you were sitting on the couch waiting for him, and when you saw the voicemail you jumped up because you didn’t look at the time it was sent, and you thought the voicemail was him calling because he was outside to pick you up.

You weren’t crying when he arrived at home. You just had a quiet sort of disappointment in your eyes, one that was almost more painful than tears, because this look told Harry that some part of you expected this. Harry didn’t look particularly guilty because he hadn’t realized how excited you were. He thought you probably didn’t even get ready. He thought you’d say, “Aw, well,” and move on.

He didn’t think he’d find you on the sofa, dressed in the most beautiful summer dress he’d ever seen, looking like an angel with a broken wing. He never dreamed you’d be so upset, never dreamed he’d be the reason for you being so upset.

That was the night he realized he was nothing but a mortal man in the presence of an angel.

An actual, real live angel.

An actual, real live angel who was losing her glow because of him.

Harry takes a miserable sip of his drink and tries to involve himself in the conversation happening around him. It doesn’t work. The noise level in the room is almost headache inducing, but somehow Harry can still pick out your laugh through the chatter.

He thinks, for a moment, that he’d like a shot of that laughter. He’d like to bathe in your happiness just once more. Maybe that’s all the closure he needs. A gasp of fresh air after what seems like eons of suffocating loneliness.

Then Harry thinks he sounds pathetic even in his own head and he excuses himself from his table. He walks almost blindly through the halls without even a semblance of an idea as to where he’s going. It’s quiet out here, at least, and he can clear his head, and take a breath, and maybe -

"Hey.”

Harry freezes.

For a moment, he thinks he’s imagining things. Then he turns around, and as it happens, he’s not.

There you are, in all your glory, a hesitant smile on your lips. You’re wearing a lavender dress. It fits you perfectly, makes you look like you’re floating off the ground, and Harry wants to cry because it matches his bow perfectly and that wasn’t even planned and goddammit, universe, that’s just salt in a gaping wound.

“Nice suit,” you say, and now your smile looks more sad than hesitant, and Harry feels the tears building in his throat because you remember too, of course you do, and Harry opens his mouth to reply but he can’t get his words out and now he’s on the verge of tears not only because he’s sad but also because he’s embarrassed.

“Thanks,” Harry finally chokes out.

“You’re welcome.”

The corridor suddenly feels long and empty and silent.

“Heard Feather on the radio the other day,” you say.

Feather. One word, a million memories shifting through Harry’s head faster than lightning.

A gifted necklace, filled notebooks, picked out notes, hummed melodies. Murmured lyrics in ears in early mornings. Night after night in the studio, together. Rubbish takeaway food, in the studio, together. Laughter over everything and nothing. Falling over each other in the booth, soft sighs and blissful gasps replacing giggles and shrieks of amusement. Late, late nights, together. Hearing it on the radio for the first time, together, almost driving off the road because of the excitement.

Hearing it on the radio last time, alone, almost driving off the road because of the stab of grief.

Harry’s not sure what to say to that. What do you expect him to? Oh, great, me too, fantastic song, innit? So he pauses for a moment and then replies, “We should make a sequel.” That gets a laugh out of you, and the thought strikes Harry to bottle it up and wear it in a little bottle around his neck.

“That would be something, huh?” you say.

“Call me,” Harry says. “I’ll book a studio.”

You smile. “Yeah, sure.”

“Don’t forget,” Harry tells you.

“I won’t,” you say, and there’s a beat of silence. Your smile fades as you look at him, as he looks at you, and Harry looks away because your smile’s about to disappear completely and Harry doesn’t think he could stand being the cause of your smile disappearing one more time.

You clear your throat. “Alright, well… Expect that call.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll see you around, H,” you say.

“See ya.”

You turn around and walk away. Float away. Fly away.

Again.

Flight, Harry thinks, watching you go. That’s what the sequel would be called. Feather. Flight.

You wore a white dress the first time the two of you performed it live. It’s such a love song. It’s the sappiest shit ever written by anyone in the entire world. If anyone else had written it, Harry would’ve rolled his eyes and said, Bullshit.

But it wasn’t. The song wasn’t, the love wasn’t, nothing was. It was the complete opposite. As pure and true as love could possibly be. Which makes it all the more painful that Harry couldn’t keep his shit together enough for you.

That’s another one of the Happy Memories: that first time performing together. You in your white dress, Harry in a silver, shimmering suit. The two of you did a whole choreography; you messed up every other move and Harry tripped over his own feet quite a few times, but the effort was there. The combination of the overwhelming yet familiar excitement of being on stage and the otherworldly bliss of simply being in your presence is a feeling Harry will never forget.

The air in the hallway grows heavier and heavier with each passing second.

Harry should get back to his table.

He starts to walk. He peers up at the ceiling as he does, hands locked behind his back, deep in thought. People are cheering out in the main room. Harry listens to the noise and closes his eyes, trying to shut his brain off.

The fans, he remembers, were devastated upon hearing the news of your breakup. It was kept quiet long enough that the questions and concerns weren’t particularly invasive, but it still hurt. It hurt like hell. It was ripping off the bandaid of the first month and poking and prying at the wound until Harry cried onstage and ducked out of an interview and missed a show.

Feather was taken off the setlist.

Once, during a lull in a show, the audience began to sing it. That was kind of strange. Harry looked up at the bright lights and swaying figures and heard his song, your song, being sung back to him by hundreds of strangers. It occurred to him, then, that it was not, in reality, your song. By that point, it meant something to other people as well.

That was very strange.

Harry ended up strumming out the chords for them. He smiled when the audience grew louder.

He heard later that the exact same thing happened to you. It was a few nights later, maybe the next week, and there were some technical issues. In the quiet, the fans began to sing Feather. You joined in just a second later, adding in your bit of the choreography.

Harry tried his hardest not to watch the footage, he really did, but he couldn’t help it.

He cried a lot that night.

When he finally makes it back to the main room, you’re situated under your new boyfriend’s arm, smiling brilliantly. Harry looks away as he sits down and downs the last of his drink. He grins at whoever’s talking at his table and shuts off his brain.

At the end of the night, through an alcohol- and exhaustion-muddled haze, Harry spots you by the door. He sweeps you up and plants a big messy kiss on your cheek, which you return with giggles and a kiss of your own. Harry leaves the 2020 Brits with two lipstick prints on him.

Despite the pictures splattered everywhere the next morning, Harry feels an air of contentment.

It’s done, he thinks, taking a deep breath. It’s done, and that’s good.

Because really, nothing gold can stay.

Not even the gold of a yellow suit.

***

ummm... yeah lol. hope u liked it...? lskdjf anyway there's that.

thx for reading! a reblog and some feedback would be fantastique!!!!

masterlist | ask

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

Perfect birthday plans

Prompt used- Stroking others arms soothingly | fluff | All of Draco's birthdays plans gets fucked up |

" but I am sure, please check again " Draco frustratingly said to the girl behind the counter

" sir, I've already checked thrice and I am sure there's no reservations under the name for Draco malfoy. I'm sorry sir " the girl gave him a sympathetic smile

" Draco it's fine, we'll go some place else " Harry clutched Draco's hand besides him

" no Harry it's not fine-"

" it is, we're sorry for the inconvenience. Have a lovely day " Harry gave the girl a charming smile and dragged Draco out with him.

" I swear I made the reservations " Draco threw his hands his hands in the air in annoyance

" I believe you babe, we'll find some place else " Harry gave him a smile as they walked back to the car.

" but this was the perfect place Harry, I'd been planning this for months and now it's woosh, just not there " Draco sighed as he opened the door for Harry, then walked off to his driver's seat.

" it doesn't matter Draco-"

" it does to me Harry " Draco mumbled as he turned on the car and stayed there in silence for a moment.

" you know, we'll do the next thing on my list" Draco's voice rose in little excitement. Harry gave him a contented smile and they soon drove off.

But as it turned out Draco forgot the tickets to the concert and it was all booked out.

One thing after another, most of his bigger plans failed and he was only met with disappointment until they finally decided to just retrieve back to their place and have a fine ordered dinner with some champagne and call it a night.

But for obvious reasons Draco was bummed out. It was Harry's 21st birthday and he had been planning for this for months, dinner at a nice restaurant, go to a concert, go to a late night beach walk, maybe go do swimming but one thing after another, everything had collapsed onto the ground, for one he never got the reservation at the restaurant, he forgot tickets at home and it was all sold out and they couldn't possibly go now, for it was too late, the beach was all closed down for cleaning so they couldn't even apparate inside. It was a terrible night and Draco felt helpless. Worse than helpless if so. At least the cake would still be something fine.

But it wasn't his lucky day, his cake somehow had even delivered upside down and by his mistake he hadn't even checked before and now the bakery won't take it back and above everything else,the entire block was out of lights because of some technical issues.

" this day couldn't had been more worse " Draco huffed as he threw himself onto the couch and balled into it in disappointed.

" hey " Harry consoled as he came by and sat next to him and snuggled him from behind " it doesn't matter-"

" Harry it might not matter to you but I spent so much time planning all of this, making sure everything was perfect. I even checked 3 times with the restaurant for the reservation yet somehow they didn't had a recollection and I was too fucking stupid- shit- I could've apparated back for ticket. Ugh " draco groaned, curling up more just inside him.

Harry huffed before he got up and sat down on the ground to face Draco.

" get up " harry ordered as he looked at the miserable self of Draco. Confused, Draco refused but harry dragged him up.

" we've still got 2 hours before my birthday ends and I'm sure we can make something out of it Because it surely means too much to you that you're beating yourself up for it, now think of resources at the best for you and just do something, and I'll act surprised okay ?" Harry raised his eyebrows, making sure it was okay.

Draco bit his lip thinking before he stepped away and nodded.

" okay just, go inside the bathroom for a while. And meet me at the roof in 15 minutes alright. And no peaking " Draco ordered. Chuckling Harry kissed Draco's cheeks and walked inside the bathroom and locking himself inside.

Exactly 15 minutes later Harry walked out of the bathroom to find the apartment empty. He searched for Draco to make sure he wasn't ruining his surprise and once he was sure, he carefully made his steps to the roof.

Harry reached the roof door and almost entered when he decided to make sure if Draco was done " should I come in ?"

" just-a- minute " Draco sounded out of breath. Harry heard a clap before Draco opened the door with the most charming he had ever pulled and offered Harry to take his hand. Surprised Harry took his hands and walked into the roof.

" obviously I couldn't do much with the lights all out and well- sometimes these muggle laptops can be of actual use. Also I made sure there was no insect's inside the green house so we won't need repellents " Draco explained As he walked Harry into the small date he had set up in top of their apartments in the greenhouse. With limited resources draco could only set dinner over the ground with a bunch of candle lights lingering in the air and lion king movie paused over the laptop. He had managed to get to lay a few blankets over the ground as well as have a few to cover themselves with.

" this- wow " Harry stuttered amazed at how good everything actually looked

" it's not much. It's nothing compared to whatever I had planned but this is the best I could-"

" Draco " Harry grabbed Draco's arms and forced him to look at harry " the fancy restaurant or the concert or a good beach night, all these materialistic things doesn't matter to me. Yes they would've been nice but this- this is nothing compared to what we could've done. It doesn't matter how I spend my birthday Draco, it's who I spend it with. I don't want some fancy or a extravagant things to be happy on my birthday, I'm happy with you waking up next to me on my birthday, hell everyday. I don't need all these things, it's only you who matters to me, I just need you to acknowledge the days that's all. I've never been huge fans of extravaganza, it's people who matter and as long as I have you, I'm sure all my birthdays will be great " Harry told him as a stroked his arms gently..

" you get me? I love this. This is better than anything else you had planned. And to be frank those huge restaurant serves like a spoon of food for such huge amount Money, I'd much rather have this perfect pizza and champagne. I love you Draco and i love absolutely everything that you do for me. You trying is enough for me and I hope you understand that too, okay " Harry cupped his face giving him an understanding smile. Draco looked at harry for a moment before he nodded. Harry smiled before he placed a chaste kiss over Draco's lips , intertwining their hands and walking them into the greenhouse.

When they spent the entire night over the rooftop, watching movie, drinking, eating and eventually having the best sex, they realised that it was the most perfect night they could've asked for. Draco definitely didn't need to make reservations for Harry or buy him expensive gifts, he just needed Harry to know that he'd go over and beyond for him and that's what made it all perfect. The perfect combination of things is not materialism, it's people. Besides there Can be no perfection without flaw, so someday you just have to fuck it up or let it fuck up to realise there's beauty in flaws.

" of course Harry's the flaw and I'm the beauty " Draco chuckled as the told their friend's the story. Harry sat on his laps rolled his eyes, slapping him over the chest playfully.

" I'm the beauty, he's the flaw " Harry rolled his eyes again

" could you guys be anymore cheesy ?" Pansy rolled her eyes at the cringe worth couple.

Harry pouted before he said " no " and then he deliberately sloppily kissed Draco for a good measure.

And pansy groaned, but she of course knew, love like this doesn't happen twice and she was happy for them.

Requests open

Day 24- concealment charms | Day 26- after all this time, always the same

#drarry #harry potter #drarry incorrect quotes #draco x harry #hp fandom #harry james potter #drarry prompt #draco is gay #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy #drarry incorrect posts #drarry prompts #drarry headcanon #drarry fluff #drarry fic idea #drarry ficlet #drarry fic rec #drarry fic #drarry ao3 #drarry au #drarry drabble challenge #drarry drabble #drarry ship #drarry stuff #drarry squad #drarry imagines #draco malfoy headcanon #harry potter headcanon

[chaoticpuff17]

A Dangerous Game

part 9

Masterlist

Hello darlings! I was going to wait to release this chapter, but decided to release it tonight in honor of our dearest @deepdarkdelights​. She’s an amazing writer and if you don’t know her, you should go check her out right now!

Namjoon was true to his word. She never left the rooms that were prepared for her over the next week. Jin had come and gone to check on her stitches. He’d even come again and played a card game with her, but her days were otherwise monotonous. Jin couldn’t come to keep her company every day, but the two visits she had been granted with the doctor had been the highlight of her stay. He was also the only visitor she actually enjoyed seeing.

The First two days of her imprisonment had been spent on strict bedrest. Namjoon had threatened to chain her to the bed if she continued to try to get out of it. That had stopped her protests very quickly. And true to his word, while she was trapped in bed, he had his goons come in to seal off all the windows though he was right by her side the entire time it was happening. As it turned out Jin was the only one of his men that he trusted to be alone with her. Paranoid bastard.  

His visits were the worst part of her days.  While he kept her on bedrest, he had stayed home keeping her company, ensuring she wasn’t disobeying the doctor’s orders. He brought her books to read while he would read on the sofas and fussed over her health no matter how many times she snapped at him to leave. It wasn’t like she could escape when the windows were sealed and the door was always locked when he wasn’t in the room. She knew this because she’d checked. During one of the few times Namjoon had left her alone in those first few days, she’d taken the opportunity to check the door only to find it sealed tight, just like the windows.

Once she was free to move about the room, Namjoon returned to his normal activities, whatever those were, but it gave her a little more room to breathe. But there was only so much one could do while trapped in a locked room though. There were only so many games of solitaire and so many books someone could read before they were ready to rip their hair out by the roots.

“Hello, sweet girl!” Came a cheery voice from the entry way, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“Jin!” She cheered from her spot on the floor. “Come play narts with me.” She’d introduced him to the game the last time he came to visit.

“How’s that head feeling, sweet girl?” he asked moving to take a seat across from her. “You know there are two perfectly good sofas, and you’re sitting on the floor, right?”

She shrugged getting up to retrieve another set of cards. Jin had brought her some during his visit to check on her stitches. “Sometimes the floor is the best place to sit.” She returned taking a seat across from him on the floor. “And it has the added bonus of pissing of his highness. Who shoved a stick up his ass?”

There was the windshield wiper laugh she loved so much. Namjoon had cut her off from the world, and considering that she was locked away she hadn’t been able to make any new friends. Jin however was fast becoming her favorite person in the hellhole she was being forced to call home.

“He’s not so bad.” He argued as they both set to shuffling the decks of cards. “He’ll grow on you. He’s basically your husband after all.”

She groaned shooting him a playful glare. “Don’t remind me.”

“What? You don’t like being the new Mrs. Kim?”

“I would literally rather stab myself with a fork.” She deadpanned dealing up his set of cards for him.

“Don’t let Joonie hear you say that. He’ll take away all your eating utensils. He’s very concerned about your safety, you know.”

She scoffed taking a look at the cards that Jin had dealt for her as they started a more leisurely game of narts. The game itself was supposed to be fast paced, but they tended to play it very congenially when they were talking.

“Is that what it is? I thought he was just a psycho.” She placed down an ace in the middle, Jin placing down another one shortly after. “Any chance you’re going to sneak me out of here?”

“I like you, sweet girl. I really do, but not enough to betray Namjoon like that.”

“Then what good are you? If you have a three of hearts I can play a four right after.”

“Sorry. No such luck.”

“Damn. Well, either you need to play something else, or we need to lay down another ace.”

He hummed his agreement as they both shuffled through their cards looking for something else to play. “It’ll get better, you know?”

“What will?”

“Being here.” She paused in her movements, a card hovering midair as she was reaching to place it. She stared at him trying to decide if he was being serious or not. “He won’t hurt you. He’s not that kind of a man.”

“He’s an international crime lord.” She deadpanned.

“But he’s not a bad person. I work for him, and I’m not a bad person.”

“Yeah, well you’re shitty at narts.” She threw out another card glaring at him as she did. “Good people don’t kidnap other people, Jin. I was leaving. I was going home. He could have just let me go. I wasn’t going to be a threat to his empire, not from an ocean away.”

She wanted nothing more than to be home. But she had a way out. Jackson would know by now that something was wrong. Jackson would come for her. He always did. No they’d never been romantic, but Jackson had always watched over her like the older brother she’d never had. He’d helped her get away from Marcus. He’d helped her set up a new life when she was finally free, been her shoulder to lean on as she recovered from years of beating by Marcus’ hands, but she didn’t want him coming here if he was going to get himself killed.

Namjoon was a powerful man, more so than either of them had ever had to deal with before, and she didn’t want Jackson getting hurt. He’d been through just as much shit as she had, maybe even more. He didn’t deserve to get himself killed getting her out of her own mess.

Jackson was a Hong Kong native. He’d been born to the crime syndicates there, granted he wasn’t born to the higher ups. He’d had to fight for everything he’d ever had, and eventually, he found a way out. He saved enough that he could leave, to slip away. And he did. He had no family to worry about, so he left to make a new life for himself. He never discussed the finer points of it all, or how he’d come to be a cop in the states, and she’d never pushed him for the information. But she was forever grateful that he’d come into her life when he had. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if anything happened to him because of her.

“I promise it won’t be so bad here.”  Jin reached over placing a hand over one of hers. “It could be a good life, if you’d let it be. And you have me. And we could play narts!”

She laughed placing her other hand over top of his. “You are my favorite person here. You know that, right?”

“Should I be jealous?”

Jin’s hand slipped away from hers as they both turned to face the newcomer. Namjoon stood leaned against the wall watching the both of them.

Jin turned back to her with a playful smile. “What do you say, sweet girl? Run away with me?” He asked dramatically taking her hands in his and waggling his eyebrows at her. “We can go to Paris, London, Rome.”

“I’d love to.” She laughed ignoring the sharp look Namjoon was giving them both.

It was all in good fun, but she knew full well that Namjoon wouldn’t like their playful banter paranoid bastard that he was.

“That’s enough, hyung.” He pushed off the wall moving toward where they were sat on the floor. “Why are you both on the floor? There are two very nice couches right behind you.”

“That’s what I said!” Jin yelled throwing up his hands in exasperation. “But your wifey prefers to sit on the floor.”

“I’m not his wifey!”  She shrieked reaching over to flick him in the shoulder causing the older man to whine and rub at it as though it was some sort of mortal wound. “It didn’t even hurt, you big baby.” She grumbled settling back into her spot.

“Would you be my wifey then?” He propped his elbows on the coffee table to stare at her with a mischievous smile.

“Sure. Name the date. We’ll get married right away.”

Namjoon groaned sitting himself down on the sofa behind Jin. “I never should have allowed you two to spend time together.”

“Too late now, Joonie.” Jin hummed in false sympathy. He enjoyed spending time with Y/N just as much as she enjoyed spending time with her. It was nice to have a new face in the house.

“You’re back early.” She noted giving her concentration back to the cards on the table placing down a king and flipping over the stack.

“Did you miss me?” He grinned something playful and almost hopeful lighting up his eyes.

“No.” Came the very bland reply accompanied by Jin’s snickers.

“Jagi.” He groaned leaning his head back on the sofa tiredly. “You wound me.”

“Good. Maybe you’ll get sick of me, and I can go home.”

“No.”

“It was worth a try.” She shrugged turning her attention back to Jin. “Jin, darling, do you have an eight of spades?”

He looked over his own cards. “Yes!”

“Great then I can play the nine and ten.”

“What are you two even playing?” Namjoon sighed leaning forward to look at the cards splayed across the coffee table.

“Narts.” They both replied not really paying attention to the other man as they focused on finishing the game at full speed slamming down cards in quick succession.

“Narts!” She called throwing up her hands with a smile of victory.

Jin frowned placing his cards down. “You haven’t won yet! We still have to count the cards!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You still suck at narts.” She grinned gathering up the cards in the middle and beginning to separate for counting.

Namjoon watched transfixed. He had never seen her so happy in the time he’d known her. Jin made her happy. It was the only reason why he had continued to allow Jin to visit her. He truly didn’t want her to be miserable here, but Namjoon was a smart man. He knew it was going to take time for her to adjust to her new life. Eventually she would come to be just as happy here with him as she was playing cards with Jin, once she’d settled.

“Ha!” She cried triumphantly grinning from ear to ear as she laughed at Jin’s scandalized expression. “I won!”

“You cheat!”

“No, you just suck at narts!”

Yes, she’d settle here, one way or another. He would make sure of it.

part 10

#bts #bts fic #yandere #soft yandere #namjoon #namjoon x reader #mafia namjoon #yandere namjoon #mafia #mafia au #dark romance #rm #rm x reader #fanfic

[rejectofsociety]

Summary: While drunk at a party, MJ decides to play a little “game” with Peter to see if he can guess who she’s head-over-heals for.

Rated: T

Warnings: Drinking, Cursing, I was tired when I wrote this

Word Count: 2,040

Written for @spideychelleweek with the prompts “drunk and first kiss”

Also read here on AO3

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Peter was already tipsy when he arrived at Flash’s party, as he had just been at the bar trying to get drunk. He would have gladly spent the entire night sulking at the bar but, when he got a text saying there was a party at Flash’s place, he decided it was better to get drunk around some friends with games and decent music instead of being alone with nothing but a crappy football game to keep him company. Also the bartender was beginning to look concerned as Peter downed who knows how many shots that seemed to have no effect on him, so it was only polite to save him the confusion and worry.

So, now he lounges lazily on a couch with a bottle of vodka in his hand as he watches Felicia take a body shot off Gwen who is draped across a table and giggling drunkly. The colorful lights are bright around him as the floor sways and his head spins— it almost looks like he’s trapped inside a smudged painting of blues and purples.

The only way he can really get drunk is with hard liquor that he prefers to drink from the bottle. Some think he is trying (and succeeding) to show off. But anyone who really knows Peter knows that the last thing he cares to do is show off. Therefore, if Peter is so desperate to get drunk that’d he’ll lay on the couch gulping down everything in sight, there is likely something very wrong.

Michelle is the first to notice Peter’s state, being as observant as she is. She has barely had enough drinks to be considered drunk, and that was perfect. The only way she can approach Peter is when she was a little drunk and she can let the alcohol do the talking.

“Hey, loser,” Michelle greets as she plops down next to Peter.

He looks at her with tired, half-open eyes and regards her with a nod, “‘sup, MJ,” he speaks with his words heavily slurred, “how’s it going?”

“It’s going,” she shrugs, “what about you? You seem pretty…” she looks him up and down, “pretty miserable.”

“Did you just call me pretty?” He chuckles and smiles a dopey grin.

She feels her face warm up a little then shakes her head, “Pretty miserable.”

“Ah,” he nods and takes another sip of his drink, “yeah, that’s accurate.”

Michelle leans forward, “what happened?”

He shrugs, “lost my job and uh- some shit went down with Spiderman.”

“Oh-“

“I-it’s not important though,” Peter says as quickly as his drunken mind will allow.

“I’m just surprised you know Spidey,” Michelle replies.

“Yeah,” he shrugs like it’s no big deal, “normally we’re friends, but right now…” he shakes his head and stares off, looking real empty, “I could fucking strangle that bastard.”

Michelle’s expression melts into a concerned frown then she blurts: “I thought you were Spiderman.”

Peter shrugs again, evident tears glossing over his eyes as he takes a swig of his drink. Michelle examines him for a moment as he stares at the ground, his breaths shuddering and uneven. She hates seeing him upset like this and, whatever happened, the alcohol isn’t letting him forget quite yet.

“I’m not having too great a day either,” Michelle says after a moment, wanting to steer away from the Spiderman topic.

Peter looks back at her with a worried frown, seeming to forget his own troubles just for her. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s this guy,” she explains slowly, turning her body to face Peter, “and I really, really like him.”

Peter swallows thickly and mutters a quiet, disappointed “oh” that Michelle barely hears, but takes note of anyways.

“But I don’t think he likes me back,” she continues, “and the more I think about it, the more I absolutely fucking hate it.”

“What’s this guy like?” Peter asks, finishing off the bottle in his hand.

“He’s cute. Adorable freckles—“

“I have freckles.”

“—nice smile, the sweetest brown eyes.”

“Brown eyes are the best,” Peter says, practically mumbling now as the words smash together. And as he speaks, he’s staring into the swaying image of Michelle own eyes, which are his new favorite color.

“Yeah,” Michelle hums, “he’s also kinda dumb but- like- really smart. Like stupid smart. But he acts like a dumbass. He’s sweet too—“ as she speaks she eyes Peter closely, as if afraid that she’ll leave out any details as she describes him “—when I’m upset, he notices, and always asks how I’m doing.”

“Sounds nice,” Peter grumbles.

“He is. And he thinks he’s hilarious, even though he’s not. I mean, sometimes he says something funny but it’s always just, like, a step above a dad joke,” Michelle giggles as she says this and Peter’s lips twitch into a lopsided smile. “He still makes me smile though.”

“And that’s what’s important, huh?” He grunts.

Michelle nods, a bit surprised that Peter hasn’t picked up on her little game. She really thought the dad joke comment would do it for him.

A lousy smirk rolls across her lips as she examines him. Let’s see how long it takes him, she thinks mischievously.

“We go to college together, but he misses a lot of lectures-“

“Why?”

“I dunno,” she shrugs casually and sips her drink before continuing, “probably work. But even though he is late to literally everything ever, he’s really nice to be around, y’know? He’s only got two or three friends-“

“Loser,” Peter snorts.

“Yeah,” she laughs slightly, “he’s a massive loser. But, he really loves the two friends he’s got and I just… I knowhe’d never trade them out for anything. And he likes making them smile, tries keeping them safe-“

“From what?”

“Everything. I think he’s scared— probably lost too many people and just…”

“I bet he feels like it’s all his fault,” Peter speaks up, his eyes watering in a way that makes Michelle think he’s talking about himself, “because he’s supposed to be the strong one, but what’s the use in being strong if everyone I- he loves just fucking dies. A-and so he’s trying to protect the friends he does have from everything— like, everything— ‘cause he just feels like there’s al-always something round the corner waiting to hurt them,” he goes to take a sip of his drink, only to realize it’s empty with a grunt, “I bet he can’t trust anything anymore. He’s just waiting for someone else to die.”

Michelle’s quiet for a moment, but when she finds her voice it breaks and wobbles, “y-yeah. I-I bet he um…” she clumsily wipes away a tear before it can fall.

Peter sniffs then lays down, too dizzy to keep sitting upright, “what else is he like?”

“Why’re you so curious?” Michelle narrows her eyes at him, her voice slowly evening itself out.

He gives a half-hearted shrug, “dunno. I just wanna make sure he’s not a piece of shit.”

“He’s not. I mean, he kinda is but in a lovable way. And I really like talking to him, but I can’t do it sober.”

Peter raises his head and props himself up with an elbow, “are you sober right now?”

“Yeah… no. No, I’m not,” she admits.

Curious, Peter sits up a little more, leaning against the couch for support, “we don’t talk much,” he observes.

“No, we don’t,” she agrees, “I wish we talked more though.”

“Me too,” he sighs, then returns to the topic, “anything else you like about this super perfect loser?”

“Aside from everything?” Michelle raises an eyebrow and Peter huffs dramatically, “every time I see him, I say ‘hey, loser’ and I think it’s cute that he lets me.”

“So cute,” Peter rolls his eyes, and Michelle can’t help but take note of how Peter seems to get more and more bothered as she speaks of her little crush who he can’t seem to figure out.

“Sometimes I think he might like me too,” Michelle hums.

Peter flops backwards and lays his head on the armrest, “what would you do if he did like you?”

“Probably give him a kiss.”

“I could help you practice kissing him,” Peter offers helpfully.

Michelle’s heart leaps and she looks at him with wide eyes, “what?”

“I doubt you need practice,” Peter quickly corrects, then verbally vomits without thinking once: “I’m sure you’ve kissed lots of people and all of those people are so, so lucky ‘cause you’re so cool and kind and beautiful and you just noticed I was sad and came to talk to me and I’m going to be thinking about that for- like- a really long time.”

“Why?” She prods and she can feel her face heating up and her heartbeat quickens.

“I think about you a lot,” he admits, tossing his empty bottle on the ground with a clank, “you’re just really amazing, y’know?”

She leans forward and props herself with one hand by his head, “thank you, loser.”

“We should get drunk more,” he says, wrapping his arms around her and forcing her to lay on top of him a little (she doesn’t mind none).

“Why’s that?” Michelle adjusts her arms to sit a little more comfortably.

“So we can talk more often,” Peter says and even when his face is lit up with purplish lights, Michelle can see the pink blush that decorates his cheeks. “I really like talking to you.”

“I like talking to you, too,” she hums, her face only a few inches away from his, making her heart pound rapidly.

He clumsily tucks a few of her curls behind her ear, making her lips curve into a soft smile. This is exactly the moment she’s been waiting for since realizing how much she likes the idiot below her. And as her heart races and her face grows warm, she feels a strong tug in her stomach followed by a swell in confidence. As far as she’s concerned, it’s now or never (at least until she gets drunk again).

“Can I kiss you?” Michelle asks abruptly.

“What?” Peter furrows his brow and his mind lags like an old computer.

“Can I kiss you?” She repeats, “for practice.”

He flashes a dopey grin and draws her closer to him, “yes, please.”

With Peter’s powerful arms around her neck, Michelle leans in and swiftly locks her lips with his. It’s a bit sloppy and clumsy, but they both melt into it gratefully. With one hand, Michelle strokes the side of his cheek and he exhales blithely through his nose.

Then, all too soon, Peter pulls away and when Michelle opens her eyes she sees him looking up at her with his glassy eyes and his brow scrunched up.

“Am I the loser you were talking about?” he slowly asks.

She tilts her head to the side with a smile, “took you long enough.”

His face lights up and his eyes go wide, “are- are you serious?”

“Yeah,” she chuckles.

“Oh-“ he laughs and his face grows even redder, “Em, I-“

“Feel the same?” She assumes, and he nods with a goofy grin that makes her face flush as she giggles, “yeah, I can tell.”

“What gave it away?”

“How badly you wanted to kiss me.”

“What about how badly I want to do it again?” He raises an eyebrow mischievously.

Hope and joy fluttering in her chest like a swarm of butterflies, Michelle lunges forward and embraces him in another kiss. It’s more passionate and confident then the first one, and Michelle feels her heart melt as she notices Peter stroking her hair tenderly.

“Get some, Peter!” Harry cheers from across the room.

The two jump part and Peter throws back his head with a laugh. Michelle’s face goes hot with embarrassment and she swears every set of eyes in the room turn to look at them.

But, before she can push herself away from Peter, he rests his hand on her cheek and turns her head to look at him.

“I think everyone’s too drunk to remember this tomorrow,” he assures, “it’s okay.”

She simpers sheepishly then settles into his touch and rests her head comfortably on his chest, “can we just stay like this for a while?”

He nods, “anything you want, MJ.”

#spideychelle week #spideychelle #petermj #peter parker #spiderman #michelle jones #mj #spiderman ffh #spiderman hoco #marvel #mcu #avengers #art #fanart #reject’s art

[andypantsx3]

in cinders | 4 | machinations

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 24,362 words / 9 chapters

summary: You’re just trying to fairy godmother your best friend into a happily ever after. If only the prince would stop hanging around and cooperate.

tags: cinderella AU, prince!Shouto, romance, misunderstandings, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

Kamiko was a nightmare the next morning.

She draped herself obnoxiously all over the kitchens, declaring to anyone who would listen that she had overheard a provocative rumor as she changed Countess Asui’s bedwarmer that morning. When asked, she would refuse to share, claiming it was too big to spill until everyone was gathered for the morning meal.

You let out a disinterested yawn as you rolled out the dough for Rikido’s famous morning buns. This was your favorite of your duties when you couldn’t be with Ochako, rolling out pastry crusts or--when it was for bread--shaping the dough into various knots and boules. Rikido didn’t yet trust you to mix the dough itself, but you liked kneading it and setting it into the ovens early in the morning. Leaning into the warm stone of the ovens and letting the yeasty scent of baking bread wash over you was a good way to wake up in the winter months, particularly after nights like the one before.

You hadn’t slept well, after everything. In the middle of the night you’d awoken, feeling Prince Shouto’s fingers at your sleeve. You’d sat up in bed, your blood pulsing in your ears, and stared into the darkness, listening to Ochako’s heavy breaths.

It occurred to you that you should have made her stay longer. The little time you’d spent at the ball, you’d taken too much of the prince’s attention and not nearly enough had been dedicated to her. It had been clear from the moment he’d set eyes on Ochako that he’d found her beautiful, looking her over and complimenting her necklace. Then she’d possibly run from him in shyness, and you swooped in to complicate the whole evening, sticking your foot in your mouth and almost blowing your cover.

If only you’d kept your head and forced her to stay behind, she could have asked him to a dance for real.

You gnashed your teeth, the fantasy of Princess Ochako fading before your very eyes. How were you to spend your days languishing in her chambers with a good book, calling on Kamiko for increasingly more unnecessary things now?

Finally, the swell of servants in the kitchen seemed to satisfy Kamiko’s appetite for theatrics. She stationed herself at the head of the meal table, tapping her fork on her glass to call for attention.

“I’ve heard a very interesting rumor,” she announced, and every pair of eyes snapped to her. Despite yourself, yours did too.

“Lady Asui overheard the prince last night at the ball. Apparently, he was looking high and low for a maiden who’d caught his fancy.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

Kamiko continued, unwary of your inner turmoil. “He described her as a lady of unusual tastes, and from what he could tell, quite pretty.”

“Welcome, Lady Uraraka. I must compliment you on your choice of jewelry. Your necklace is quite unique and beautiful.”

Your heart shuddered back to life, pounding heavily in your chest. A warm feeling like hope blossomed within you.

Ochako. He was looking for Ochako.

The sound of your heart pumping in your chest seemed to drown out the rest of what Kamiko was saying, and you bit your lip to hold back a smile.

This was your chance to make it up to Ochako.

As discreetly as you could, you slipped out of the kitchens, bounding down the staircase to the small room you shared with her. You let yourself in, finding the room empty, and leaned down to dig beneath her mattress. Finally, you felt what you had been looking for, pulling back with her ribbon necklace in hand.

You stowed it in your apron and made your way back to the kitchens, your plan singing in your veins. There was no way for someone like you to access the prince directly, but there was a shortcut to lead him down into the kitchens and straight to Ochako.

Kamiko was still holding forth at the table when you returned, though she spared a moment to toss you a nasty glance.

You let it roll off you and you retrieved the morning buns from the oven.

You made sure to watch Rikido carefully after he returned from his breakfast, pretending to peel carrots as you stealthily observed him plating up the prince’s breakfast. None but Rikido was allowed to touch the royal family’s trays before they were carried up to their quarters, as he trusted no one but himself to arrange the food pleasingly and deliciously. But even he couldn’t watch the trays forever.

In the spare minute between when Rikido turned his back and the servers came to call, you crept surreptitiously over to the counter, tucking Ochako’s necklace carefully out of sight beneath the large morning bun on Prince Shouto’s tray.

Then you returned to the sink, picking up your carrots to begin shucking for real.

The servers came to pick up the trays, and for the next half hour you waited excitedly, watching Ochako scrubbing out pans in the corner. In only moments, you were sure, the prince would sweep into the kitchens and take her into his arms. Then they would be married, and Ochako would live happily ever after.

Only, it wasn’t the prince who turned up in the kitchens.

The door smashed open, and a squadron of the king’s guard poured into the room. Behind them, Captain Katsuki Bakugou himself stalked into the room, blood-red gaze sweeping the occupants. He exuded raw power at close range, and you understood immediately why Kaminari had been so scared to leave his post the night before.

“Everyone who touched the prince’s food this morning, line up against the wall,” he growled. The entire room stood frozen, staring at him.

“NOW!” He yelled, and like a dam breaking, everyone rushed to obey. In mere seconds, Prince Shouto’s waiter, Rikido, and another kitchen girl were up against the wall, everyone else backing away to the other side of the room. You stood frozen at the sink, too terrified to move.

Captain Bakugou turned his crimson gaze on you. “You, girl. What do you do?”

You stammered, “I clean, and I--I help bake the pastries.”

He gestured with his sword. “Up against the wall.”

You moved to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the other kitchen maid. The king’s guardsmen stepped up to you and the other servants, and one grasped your shoulder in an unyielding hold. Then you were moving, being led out of the kitchens and up into the bright light of the castle.

Your stomach twisted like the series of halls and stairways you were ushered through.

Why had the prince sent the commander of the guard? Wasn’t he supposed to be in love with Ochako? Why hadn’t he come for her?

Before you knew it, your small group was standing before the door to the prince’s apartments. You’d never been this deep in the palace before, and everything seemed to dwarf the cramped hallways of the servants’ wing. Even the door you stood before was twice a man’s height and almost as broad across.

Captain Bakugou rapped firmly on the door and it opened inwards.

You were tugged in by the strap of your apron and thrust to your knees with the other kitchen staff.

The prince’s chambers spread out before you, so large they could fit the kitchens three times over. You looked to be in a sitting room, peppered with low tables and couches overstuffed with bright pillows. A large, ornate writing desk sat against one corner, covered in papers. On the far wall, a series of double doors lay open, leading deeper into his apartments. You caught a glance of a four postered bed deep within, covers dripping off the sides to lay crumbled on the floor like they had been kicked off in haste.

Prince Shouto himself sat on one of the couches, looking as though he’d dressed in a hurry. He was accompanied as ever by Izuku Midoriya, and at his right sat Lady Camie Utsushimi and one of her ladies-in-waiting you didn’t know.

“This is unnecessary, Bakugou,” the prince sighed in his soft tone. “It was a necklace.”

The captain snarled. “It could have just as easily been poison.”

The prince closed his gray and blue eyes. “But it wasn’t.”

Bakugou scoffed. “They try anything funny and I’ll run them straight through.”

You shivered on the floor. You felt miserably sorry to the other staff on their knees beside you, threatened with death here on the hardwood because of a stupid choice you’d made. Of course the royal guard would work themselves into a frenzy over something in the prince’s food. Why hadn’t you thought this through?

Prince Shouto turned to the four of you, holding up a familiar pink pearl necklace. “I found this on my tray this morning. I believe it belongs to a lady I met at the ball last night. I promise you no trouble if any of you come forward with information.”

If ever the time to speak up were to come, it would be now. But found yourself holding your tongue, eyeing Captain Bakugou’s sharp sword.

You looked up into the faces of the prince’s companions. Lady Utsushimi’s eyes were wandering carefully between the faces of the staff, and she seemed to stop in surprise when her gaze flicked to you.

You felt yourself stiffen under the guardsman’s hands.

“Please,” the prince continued. “She has a companion who I must find. She seemed rather insistent that I talk with the lady to whom this necklace belongs. Did she ask any of you to place this on my tray?”

Your heart leapt into your throat. He was talking about you. Dear god, he was talking about you.

What had you done to make him so keen to find you? Had it been the rough way you spoke to him or the stomping on his toes? Did he guess that you were a servant acting above your station? What was he going to do once he found you? Was Captain Bakugou here to deliver the prince’s justice upon you?

A silver ribbon appeared in the prince’s clever fingers. “Last night, she was wearing a blue dress with these about her sleeves. Camie tells me she might go by Lady Ito. Have any of you seen her?”

You looked up into his handsome face, feeling sick. Please don’t say Kamiko’s full name, please don’t say it. Not in front of the staff.

“Your highness,” Rikido’s shaky voice came from beside you, “I was the last to touch your tray. The fault of this is mine. I will accept any punishment you see befitting of my inattention.”

In the corner of your vision, Bakugou’s sword hand twitched. Rikido was going to get himself killed!

Before you could think, you had shot to your feet. “Please, it wasn’t him! It was me!"

Then the reality of your words washed over you and you quickly backpeddled, "I mean - I was the last to touch your tray. I - I sprinkled more sugar over your bun while his back was turned. But I swear, none of us were asked to add this to your tray!”

The prince’s cool gaze turned on you. You stared back, heart hammering.

If you made it through this alive, you were never trying something this stupid again.

His eyes wandered over you slowly, and you felt your face burn. You hoped your mask had covered enough of you last night that he saw nothing familiar to him. You hoped the sight of you now, covered in flour and carrot shavings, was enough to throw off any suspicions.

“Tell us, why should the prince believe you?” Lady Utsushimi’s attendant spoke up. Her tone was high and cruel. “It’s clear that one of you must have done it.”

You swallowed. You pitched your voice a little lower to hide it, now that the prince’s attentions were on you and you were thinking a little more clearly. “If I touched the tray while Rikido’s back was turned, there’s no reason why someone else couldn’t have done the same. Perhaps they were laying in wait.”

The lady sniffed, but Prince Shouto held up a hand.

“If I’m to trust your word, I’d like you all to swear to it,” he said.

You nodded, and other kitchen staff quickly did as well.

“You swear that no one asked you to add this necklace to my tray?”

Your voices blended together as you answered, “I swear it, highness.”

I wasn’t asked. I added it myself.

After that, the purpose seemed to drain from the prince’s lean form, and he waved a dismissive hand. “I’m sorry to have interrupted your morning. Captain Bakugou, please return them to the kitchens.”

Bakugou made an angry noise, but the guardsmen picked your fellow servants up off the floor to their feet and ushered you to the doorway. Your blood rushed in your veins as you stepped back through the massive doors, staring fixedly at Rikido’s back ahead of you.

As the doors closed, however, you swore you could sense a pair of eyes boring into your back.

#bnha #bnha x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #fanfic #todoroki shouto #boku no hero academia

[untaemedqueen]

Live, Laugh, Love (M)

Hoseok x Reader

WordCount: 10.9k

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Roomates to Lovers!AU, Best Friends to Lovers!AU

Warnings: Reader Has Shitty Boyfriend, Marking, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Fingering, Hair Pulling, Secretive Pining,Big Dick!Hoseok, Hoseok Has A Huge Dick, Multiple Orgasms, Body Worship, Cream Pie, Unprotected Sex, Honestly Just Super Sensual And Lovey Dovey Sex

A/N: Gotta give a shoutout to my girls @rougebangtan​​ and @unoriginal-username15432​ for being so lovely reading and editing. I spent a lot of time on this fic and it means a lot to me so I hope you all really love it.

The sea is a miserable temptress. Water flows freely, crashing along the shoreline begging to enrapture you. To take you under the comfort of her salty tears, to bring you home where you feel the most comfortable. She is raw, potent energy waiting to be appeased by the gods. The way the rocks, dry greyscale stones, wait to be blessed by her presence. Wait to be licked with her furious energy, as they sit under the cloudy skies of silver brings a sense of calm. The sea was disastrous, much like you.

You lean back, hands perched behind you as you dig your fingers into the countless golden clusters of sand underneath. Your toes hoping for the same masked feeling as your head lolls back to look at the incoming rain clouds. In the distance, a flash of lightning, spearing brightly with flashes of orange and white; draws your attention and you can't help but appreciate the way the world works. If lightning were to strike down on the sand around you right now, it would turn to glass. Just a quick simple action could completely change up the form of the small, insignificant granules right by your side. A weak fragile granule could turn into something brilliant and hard like glass. Then, it comes to mind. You wish something would change up your form. For something to change up who you are from being insignificant to something hard and strong like glass.

It wasn't always like this. You once laughed and had a spitfire personality. You could joke and jeer with your friends, finding time to go out of your way to put a smile on someone's face because they deserved it. To do small things that would light up a person's heart because you wanted them to radiate a brilliantly happy energy. You almost can't remember what it feels like, to wake up and smile. To sit wordlessly with your friends as they joke and bask in the happy atmosphere. But now there was a hole in your heart, the size of a black hole and it eats at you constantly. Growing bigger in size and waiting to swallow you whole.

The color of the sea draws your attention as your head tilts back down to the vast horizon. With the clouds overhead, they cast dark shadows upon the water, turning the ocean that is usually a brilliant cerulean to a deep viridian. The smell of sea salt and the ocean breeze breech your senses, shrouding you in a false sense of cover. You lay down, letting the sand curve around your limbs, digging them deeper into the recesses of the beach shore. Thunder cracks, a few seconds later lightning lights up the sky signifying the incoming storm. A harsh breeze rolls over your body, waves crash against the shoreline until they crawl back into the ocean leaving nothing but foam behind. Your eyes close, ears waiting for another calming wave break. 

"There's a storm coming, you know." 

Your eyelids go from a light grey to black as something, or someone, covers your form. He found you, like always. It wasn't hard for him to always know where you would be. Your eyes open, head tilting towards the tall man that towers over you. He had on light blue jeans with rips at the knees, a white long shirt with graffiti scrawled over it and a white bucket hat. He crouches down, giving you a better look at his handsome face. As he tilts his head, his brown hair highlighted with pretty blonde streaks falls into his eyes. He smiles widely, lips forming an almost heart as his cheekbones bounce up pronouncing the apples of his cheeks. There he is, the forever best friend and forever roommate coming to your rescue. He sits down on the shore, dark brown eyes with hints of mocha look up at a bolt of lightning as it ricochets through the sky. His fingers dig into the sand before looking over at you.

"Let's go home, little one." You hear the softness in his voice, it’s a gentle hush, as if he was talking to a wounded animal. He holds his hands out, one caked in small flecks of the golden sand you lay upon before giving you a gentle smile. You take his hands with the roll of your eyes before looking back to the sky. The thunderous boom in the clouds shakes your heart as you stand, before your eyes catch the bright white lightning bolt headed your way.

Your apartment is warm as you exit your room, he must have turned up the heat. The hallway is dim, pictures of you and Hoseok line the walls from when you were children. Playing in the grass, catching frogs, eating ice cream. The pictures make you stop, your back leaning against the eggshell wall as you tilt your head. Your smile is so genuine, so happy. You both stand there, small in form with ice cream cones in hand. You can still remember the cool, sticky cream running down your knuckles like a phantom memory. Your smile is wide, eyes on Hoseok’s then chubby face as he licks his ice cream cone. You pull a smile, the corners of your lips quirking up before it falters. You feel no true sense of happiness as Hoseok’s bedroom door opens to the left of the picture gallery. He steps out of his room, brown hair sodden as he hangs his towel around his neck. His hands pull at the ends before looking up at your face. He watches you silently, taking in the misery that encumbers your being before sighing and leaning against the door frame.

“Break up with him.” He whispers, you turn your head to the noise. Face falling as you clear your throat. You watch as small droplets of water languidly fall from the ends of his hair to his bare chest. His golden skin glows in the yellow hallway lighting, and you break eye contact before hearing thunder boom throughout the house. He pushes off of the door frame before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and leading you away from the pictures that once contained your happiness.

He grabs you by the arms before planting you down onto the beige couch his parents had gifted you both upon buying the apartment. He nods to himself before walking through the living room to the open kitchen and grabbing a mug. His hands work fast. Already knowing what you need before you know it. You put your ankles up on the coffee table, head tilting back to look up at the popcorn ceiling. You survey how uneven they are, every bump in the ceiling a different shape and size. There might be something symbolic about it but you can’t even begin to find the meaning as he holds the mug out in front of you. You grab it without a word, both hands cupping the white ceramic before smelling the notes of lingonberry and grapes. You hum to him, muttering a thank you before sipping on the white wine. He sits down next to you, arm wrapping around your shoulders before turning on the t.v.

This was now a daily occurrence. He would sit with you, watch you while you were in pain but never uttering a word. He once tried, tried to bring you to see reason but it ended up in a fight that broke the both of you. You didn’t talk for months after that. Avoiding each other and slamming doors noisily as if to tell the other person to fuck off. Mindlessly drifting off in your thoughts, your temple lands on his broad shoulder. You can smell his body wash, notes of vanilla and musky oak wood, a scent that is Hoseok in his entirety. He is warm like vanilla, the type of warm that coats your entire being, bathing it in comfort. He is solace, solace like an oak wood forest. He shades you from the sun, gives you cover from the rain. The eternal best friend. The ringing of your phone breaks you out of your reverie, the loud pitched ringer comes from inside your bedroom and you guzzle the alcohol before sighing.

“Gonna end up paying for another cab that he won’t get into?” You grimace at his words, eyes watching how the small amounts of alcohol slosh within the mug before finishing it off and setting it down on the table. You don’t get up from the couch, instead you stare at the television as a random cartoon plays. Watching the small characters jump off of park benches and turn into superheroes before flying off to save the day. Everyone was so brave, even cartoons and here you are. Miserable and too chicken to go answer the phone and tell him to fuck off. The phone silences before beginning to ring again and your lips press into a tight line. You close your eyes as his hand rubs comforting circles on your shoulder. 

He was probably drunk, out with his friends that you couldn't stand. Probably, no, most definitely calling you to get him a cab for him to go home either to you or to his own apartment. Although, according to your best friend he was no longer allowed to step foot into your shared apartment. And, if he did, Hoseok has stated that he will ‘end his entire existence.’ Calling cabs for your boyfriend is a waste of money and most times he doesn't get into the cab because he's too drunk to pay attention. 

“Stay with me. Let’s watch a movie.” Your best friend whispers, running his smooth thumb over the expanse of your arm before pulling back to look at you. His chocolate eyes are pleading, wanting to keep you away from your phone, keep you away from this person who has been in your life for two whole years already. “Please.”

The apartment goes quiet, maybe Allan had given up for the evening. Thunder booms again and you feel guilt beginning to encroach on your heart. If he was drunk, out with unsavory people in the pouring rain you should be there for him. You shake your head to Hoseok, who in turn frowns as you stand up. You can’t help the way that your feet move towards your bedroom knowingly you would be hurt in a few minutes. Because, you love- loved this person before and your heart feels as if you owe him. You feel indebted to him for so many reasons you couldn’t pinpoint a single one. “You don’t love him, Y/N.” You hear from the couch as you round the corner into the hallway. That may be true, you don’t love him anymore; but, you can’t just leave him on his own.

The bedsheets are cold as you slide underneath your comforter, goosebumps produce on your skin as you take a deep breath trying to calm your nerves. You sit up, legs folding as you rest yourself against the light grey headboard. Your phone sits on top of your black comforter, indenting the fabric and looking as if it weighs one hundred pounds. Your eyes drift across the room to the Live, Laugh, Love wooden plaque that has been stationed in the room since you moved in.

With one last kick you shove the box containing all of your favorite books into your new room. The room smells of paint, the scent wafting through your nose and making you light headed as you put your hands on your hips. Your tongue finds your bottom lip as you survey the all but empty room. Only your bed is stationed in the corner by the window, Hoseok so graciously helped put it together telling you to go get the rest of your things from the moving van downstairs. You look at the floor with a raised eyebrow. Your best friend is splayed out, breathing heavily as his bare upper body shines with hard working sweat. His hand pushes back his black hair before putting his hand over his heart. The way he moves has always been gracious, always enrapturing your sights. His closed eyes then opened, his irises were the color of mocha today with warm flecks of honey spread throughout them. Your heart warms, a wide smile graces your face as he sits up shaking his hair out of his eyes. He pats the spot on the wooden floor next to him and you graciously take it. His form turns towards you, crossing his legs as he puts his hands in your lap; you feel your cheeks heat up, a pink blush creeping onto your skin as you tilt your head at your forever best friend.

“I bought you a present that so perfectly represents you.” He tells you, his cheekbones jumping up as he reaches behind him to pull a cardboard box from underneath your bed. 

His hands shake with excitement, mocha eyes never leaving yours as you giggle. This is why you love him, he does things for you that you would never even think to do for yourself. He’s a heart shaking, love bubbling person that oozes this sort of sticky, sweet love that everyone becomes entranced in. He slides the box in front of you, moving himself back before nodding to it. “Open it.”

Gripping the large box, you note its heaviness. An ‘oof’ leaving your lips as you pick it up, Hoseok’s tongue rakes across his lips. His body warbles with excitement as you delicately lift the edges of the box wanting to preserve the wrapping. You take your time, gently peeling back the layer. He stops moving, mouth opening as if he’s seen a ghost before scoffing.

“It’s a box, just rip it.” He mutters, his face falling as you scour across at him. 

“I want to savor it.” Your voice comes out in a mumble as you run your thumb underneath the sealant letting the flap fly open slowly. His hand makes a fist before sliding it underneath his chin as he watches you bite your bottom lip concentrating on making sure the brown box is intact. He lets out a loud fake yawn before leaning back against your bare mattress and stretching out his legs so his feet touch your knees. You lay the box down on your lap before sliding your hand into the now open box mouth. Your fingers grip at something hard wrapped in bubble wrap before beginning to slide it out of the package. Now, you’ve got his attention. Hoseok’s body leans forward, eyes taking in your reaction as you slowly reveal the gift inside.

“Oh, my God.” He whispers before grabbing the back of the box and yanking it harshly. The bubble wrapped gift falls into your lap with a thud and you narrow your eyes at him as he begins to smile. You gently gasp, the heart shaped smile you’ve known your whole life feels so different in this apartment with just the two of you. It feels so intimate, so wholly Hoseok. Your neck heats up, your ears begin to feel hot no doubt turning pink. With a clearing of your throat you look down at the plaque of wood in your lap. The words are blurred by the clear wrapping and your heart lurches with excitement to read what is written underneath. You grip at the protective plastic before tearing it.

“That’s my girl.” You can’t help but snort at his comment, your body bows down before gripping the plastic with your teeth and yanking it open.

“So strong!” The jeer has your eyes rolling with a laugh before pulling out the wooden plank and opening your mouth. Your fingers dance over the engraved oak wood before looking up at him. He winks at you, folding his veiny arms with a smug face as you hug the plaque to your chest.

“Do you like it?” His smugness is over in a second, eyes widening with nervousness as he analyzes your face. Your nod is fervent before looking back down at the wood. ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ is burnt into the oak in scriptive writing. A shiny lacquer has been painted over top, the sheen reflecting in the sunlight that shines through the window on this summer's day. 

“I love it.” His smile says it all, a million watts and perfectly straight teeth greet you before leaning forward and kissing your forehead. An action that he has done his whole life suddenly makes you still. Your arms clutch at the wood before he stands up with a groan.

“I knew you would like it. It fits you perfectly.”

Your phone’s loud ringer breaks you out of your memory and you can’t help but sigh as your head lolls back. Here we go. You grab your phone, thumb shaking before answering the call. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot him. Standing idly in the doorway, arms crossed with furrowed eyebrows and a callous expression.

“Hello?” Timid, your voice is small as you answer.

“B-Baby! What the fuck are you doing?!” Allan sounds happy today, a happy drunk Allan is better than an angry one. Your eyes flicker to your best friend as he rolls his eyes.

“Just at home. Relaxing.” There’s a hiccup and a loud burp before voracious laughter from many voices. You feel your cheeks heating up, the coolness of the back of your hand greets your cheeks as Hoseok enters your bedroom.

“Call me a ca-cab, baby. I can’t get home.” You pick at the skin of your lip before opening up the cab app on your phone. Your bed dips with the weight of your bed friend, he crawls underneath your comforter before pulling your body to his chest as the app loads.

“Where are you?” You try to make your voice sound sweet but your chest wracks with unease as if you could feel your boyfriend shrug.

“How the fuck should I know? Call me a cab.” Hoseok’s chin hooks over your head as he closes his eyes, you can feel the muscles of his jaw tensing as you clear your throat.

“You have to tell me where you are so I can call them there for you.” Your best friend’s fingers dig into your arm as he grits his teeth. 

“Fuck you.” The line goes dead and you drop the phone carelessly before wrapping your arms around his slim waist. His lips find your hair, brushing them gently as he waits for the next phone call you know you’re going to get. This best friend of yours, your forever friend holds you down to the Earth, like a heavy stone tied to your ankle. He keeps you grounded when you want to just fly away. “You don’t have to take this. You don’t have to kee-”

His voice is cut off by the sharp ringer, the loud noise pierces your ears and you close your eyes for just a moment before answering the call. “I’m at Glory Pa-Park. Get me a cab.” 

You open the app back up before putting in the information. “I’m going to call them.” You notify your drunk boyfriend, body sitting upright as you wait for his okay. Thumb hovering over the Order Cab button. There’s whispering, laughing, someone saying something about ‘Allan you could do better’ that has your eyes going glossy as you turn away from your best friend to lay your head on the pillow. Your body slinks down, phone just a few centimetres from your face before a tear streaks down your temple to soak your hairline. 

“B-Baby! I’ll call you back!” Allan’s voice is riddled with laughter before the line goes dead. You close your eyes, lips trembling as Hoseok grunts angrily. He reaches over your body, snatching the phone from your hands. You turn your body to retrieve it and your best friend throws it behind him.

“Your phone is off.” Anxiety bubbles in your chest, raring to break free as you scramble to retrieve your phone from behind his back. His skinny but strong arms grip at your body before pinning you to the mattress. Your head gets foggy, as your senses begin to dull. “Give it to me.”

“No.” His hands find your face, smushing your cheeks to look at him. Your chest begins to shake, lungs gripping for oxygen as you gasp for breath. Your chest constricts, tightening like a belt as you grip at his arms. “Hey!” 

His hands pull your face closer to his before looking into your eyes. The concern riddled throughout his chocolate eyes makes you whimper, a strangled sound echoing off of your vocal cords as he widens his eyes. “Relax. You’re with me. You’re safe.” He pulls you into his chest, his large hand rubs at your upper back with comforting circles. There’s the smell again, the vanilla notes with the accompaniment of oak that has your lungs releasing from the tight confines of your rib cage. The cotton of his shirt brings you back to reality as he moves his body on top of your phone, as if to shield it from the world. 

“Lay with me. Just lay.” His lips connect to your forehead and your eyes flutter shut. You lay like this for a while. The both of you say nothing but feeling the others heartbeat as you lay together. Your heart begins to slow, back to a regular rate that clears your mind. His lips never leave your skin as his eyes close. Time seems to flow slowly in this big bed. Your grip on him lessens, your body falling into a secure type of comfort. It isn’t until Hoseok pulls away from your forehead that your heart lurches deep in the recesses of your chest. His eyes look at the wooden plaque on the wall before putting his chin on the top of your head. You could feel the beginnings of scratchy stubble on your scalp as you bury your face deeper into his chest. “Just lay with me.”

You hadn’t realized you had fallen asleep, when the bright sun woke you up. The light shines in your lavender painted room, highlighting the uneven streaks that make you feel nostalgic. You can remember when you and Hoseok painted the room on a whim months before you had met Allan. When you still giggled and laughed. Running to Home Depot at 6 o’clock in the morning, running on no sleep and alcohol intoxication to pick up paint after playing one too many games of Go Fish, and betting on your best friend's room or your room to get slathered in paint. He had picked the lavender color, equating it to the way you smell and how pretty it is. You had gotten back, put on old clothes and slapped the paint on the wall and each other in a fit of alcoholic giggles that could only be described as rhapsody. He had painted a heart on the wall, ‘Hoseok Loves You’ that he quickly covered up as you noticed. You raised an eyebrow at him then, asking him what that meant only to be met with paint splattering on your clothes and the tarp he had laid out underfoot. There was a messy paint fight, laughter ricocheting off of the walls until both of your sides hurt before sitting down on the drop cloth and leaning against each other. 

You’re acutely aware of Hoseok’s sleeping body next to you. Your hand finds its way under your cheek as you turn to face him. His lips are parted, shallowly breathing as he clutches your phone to his chest. Your heart pangs, guiltiness washes over you like the tide. He was always by your side, always there for you and you’re letting him down. You’re making him take care of you and you know he always would. Because he's Hoseok. It was ingrained in his being, he was a loving, kind hearted boy that turned into a benevolent man. You grab your phone, sliding it delicately away from him in hopes to not wake him up. Successfully, you take the phone before gently lifting away from him and leaving the bedroom.

The beach was littered with people today. Children run around, screaming as the waves chase them out of shoreline. Foam licking at their small ankles as they cheer and giggle. You make your way to the small outcove that he and you had found when you first moved here. It smells of wet moss and sea spray, the dark stone that encases the place wet with humidity. Moss has begun to grow higher up the walls, almost smothering all of the stone’s color. 

You look towards the horizon, cerulean blue waters ebb and flow graciously as the sun shines down upon it, the sun’s bright rays making a line coming straight for you in this damp sea cave. It fills you with wonder, something so beautiful made on it’s own. A sigh is coaxed from your lips, legs tucking underneath you as you sit down on the cool stone floor. You turn your phone on, before looking back out to the water and watching as a perfectly picturesque sailboat passes. The sail, bright blue, billows in the wind, and your hands clutch together as your phone begins to endlessly vibrate. Small shells catch your eyes as they gleam in the sunlight below the lip of the alcove. Venus combs, Hoseok once equated them to you after you began to date Allan. 

“You’ve turned all spiky and dangerous like them, did you know that a mollusk once lived in it before abandoning it. That’s like you, hollow.”

You feel a tightness in your chest before looking down at your phone.

Allan - 52 Missed Calls

Allan - 48 Text Messages

You love him? You loved him. For the first year. You grew tired of his antics after a year and a half. You wanted to be done after two years. But, something kept you tethered. The insecurities to find someone else? You wasted two years of your life. Would anyone want you after all that. You suffered so many tears, crying until your throat was raw, till the capillaries under your eyes burst. You want to prove that you’re strong. That you can make it through, maybe the darkness will pass and you’ll learn to love him again. But, that seems impossible. You want to learn to laugh again. To smile widely at everything Hoseok says. You want to be able to just watch shitty movies and giggle as the characters make horrible, horrible decisions. You want to be able to hug your best friend without having guilt wrap around you like a cocoon. You want to be at peace.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a hand as it grips the inside of the sea cave. You turn your attention to it before he appears. His face is shaded by the darkness of the sea cave but you still find that he is the brightest thing in the entire place. He could rival the sun. He enters, hands digging into the pockets of his black overalls before leaning against the rock.

“I hate waking up in your bed alone.” His voice echoes throughout the small cavern and you can’t help but cringe at his words. 

“I know.” He pushes himself off of the wall before sitting down next to you and looking down at the venus combs on the golden flecks of sand. With a simple point of his index finger, your throat clenches. Your eyes become glassy as you exhale a deep breath you didn’t even know you were holding. His hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers together and you didn’t even realize they were sweating. You turn your head to him, only to find that his eyes are already on you. You can’t tell if it’s the humidity in the cavern or his gaze but your chest becomes short of breath. His hand comes up in your vision, thumb outstretched to wipe a stray tear that has escaped in your daze. “You deserve the world. You deserve to be happy, you know. Pain and sadness doesn’t suit you. Remember when we used to laugh and have fun? Hmm? Remember that time that we pantsed Jimin in the parking lot of 7 Eleven and left him there with his jeans around his ankles?”

A giggle bubbles up in your throat and you nod closing your eyes. Hoseok delicately wipes at your wet lashes before kissing your temple. “How about the time when we threw toilet paper all over my sisters room because she told us we weren’t allowed to go out to the backyard.” Your laugh ricochets off the walls, head lolling back your body wracks with laughter. Hoseok chuckles to your left and you had almost forgotten what it sounded like. High pitched with a small gasp, he laughs next to you before wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “I haven’t heard you laugh in what feels like years.” 

The laughter is short lived as your phone begins to ring, the sharp blare pierces the air before echoing in the cavern and Hoseok’s form shrinks in size. His shoulders fall as well as his arm off of you and you swallow thickly as he frowns. His fingers card through his brown hair before looking at the phone in your lap. He curses under his breath before looking out at the horizon. You can imagine how tiresome it is to watch over someone like a hawk. Making sure they’re always okay and never questioning them even though their actions are wrong. Your eyes glance to the side, watching how he digs underneath his perfectly clean fingernails as if it’s just something to do. You’re hurt but you’re hurting him too. That’s not fair. He’s always been there to hold you, to keep you safe and calm. He’s stopped your anxiety sevenfold and you were selfish. That’s why, your brain snaps once and for all. Your fingers grab your phone before rearing back and throwing it into the ocean.

Hoseok gargles on his own spittle before scoffing. The turn of his head is sharp as the phone makes a ‘ploop’ noise before drowning. “Wh-” You turn to him before hugging him tightly. His arms stutter in movement before hugging you back. 

“What do you think you’re rich? You could have just blocked his number.” You giggle as he hooks his chin on your shoulder, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your lower back as you begin to feel a sense of relief. It washes over you in an instant, like a spring day breeze. Hoseok finds his footing before standing up and holding out his hands to you. “Come on, little one.”

Months go by, your phone has been replaced and the only calls or texts you receive are from your family or Hoseok. They way it should be. Although, there are times where you feel an immense amount of dread, wondering if you had made the right decision. Wondering if you should have waited for things to get worse just so they could get better. Your bed is a constant in the ever changing world around you. Ever changing, as in Hoseok has gotten a girlfriend. You guess when you don't have to watch over your childhood best friend every minute of the day, you could go out and experience real life. You were happy for him, happy to hear his laugh through the walls of your shared apartment. You were happy that he was happy. Probably. That’s what you want to feel. He likes her, Jillian, so even though you hide yourself away in your room whenever she comes around; you guess you like her, too. 

“I’m going out, are you going to be okay here? By yourself?” You look up from your phone at the voice. There he is, forever best friend looking like a million bucks as he fixates a beanie on top of his head. You wish for him to just let out a big yawn and throw back your comforter before laying in your bed and holding you close. Laying with you until it feels as if time itself stops short for you to have a moment of comfort with your best friend. Footsteps break you out of your thoughts. His ears fold slightly at the weight and you smile at him before nodding. 

“I’ll be fine.” He steps into your room before a small hand grips on to his black hoodie yanking him along with her. “Thanks, Jillian.” Your voice is a mere murmur as the door to the apartment slams shut. 

“You shouldn’t do shit like that. I’ve already told you that Y/N is sad.” Hoseok berates his girlfriend before yanking his arm out of her grasp and fixing his clothing. There’s an eye roll that has him stopping in the middle of the street before folding his arms. 

“She always is sad. It’s who she is. Doesn’t mean you have to always deal with it.” Hoseok gives a short laugh, his head tilting back before his hand agiley catches his beanie as it falls off. 

“I don’t always have to deal with it. But, I want to. She means the most to me in this world. You fucking know that.” He seethes to his girlfriend before stepping out of the way for a couple to walk past. “How do you think that makes me feel?! That ‘she means the most to you.’ I’m supposed to just be okay with that?!” 

Hoseok presses his lips together before putting his hands over his face and grunting gently. He takes a deep breath, forcing air into his constricting lungs before sighing. “Let’s go.” 

The bar is noisy and crowded, the smell of stale beer wafts through the air as Hoseok wrinkles his nose. If you were here, you would complain that he doesn’t really like to drink all that much and you should find a different place to go. But, that’s exactly it, isn’t it? You weren’t here, he was with his girlfriend and he still thinks of you. Even as he slides into the booth, even though her hand is intertwined with his. It isn’t your small hand that he finds beside him. It’s hers. Her voice breaks him out of his reverie, he inhales deeply through his nose before smirking at her. His eyes rake over her hair, her eyes even the way her mouth moves as she phrases words and it seems to be off putting. The corners of his mouth turn down as she orders her drink, watching the way she points at the menu, he didn’t even see her pick up. It’s stupid little things that draw his attention, you wouldn’t point your finger and the menu like that. You would tilt your head and puff out your cheeks unsurely. You would side eye him and nudge him to make a decision for you since there were too many options to choose from. You would never wink at someone before handing them a menu, there was not an overly flirtatious bone in your body. You were just you. And Hoseok misses that the most. 

His night goes on for a long time, it seems like it would never end. He misses slipping under your black duvet cover and holding you to comfort you. He misses when you would have to stretch your neck to look up at him because he would always jump up and out of the way for you to crane to look up at him. Somehow along the night Jimin had joined in, the streets have basically emptied as the town hall clock strikes letting him know another hour has gone by and he still isn’t home. “What’s with the face?” He hears Jimin ask as he stops on the street corner, his wrist is held tightly before being forced around his girlfriend's waist. 

“What face?” He grimaces at the action before looking back up at his longtime friend. “You look miserable.” It’s a faint whisper that gets caught in the wind and Hoseok can’t help but swallow before looking back at the Walk sign. He shrugs to Jimin, who in turn rolls his eyes before all three cross the street.

Conversations are short and sweet as they walk Hoseok’s girlfriend back to her apartment. There’s a tension, a man-made tension that he knows he’s created but he can’t seem to find a care in the world for it. He doesn’t care, in all honesty. He just wants to go home.

“Hey! Isn’t that Y/N’s little friend?” The voice is a mere distant memory that comes back sharp in the frontal lobe of his mind as he pulls away from Jillian to turn his body. His jaw tightens, muscles flexing and protruding as he narrows his eyes at the incoming figure. “Hyung.” 

It was a call of warning that Hoseok doesn’t heed. Anger burns through his veins like venom as he finally sets his sight on the man that ruined two years of your life. He wasted them, without even thinking about you. And, Hoseok let him. He sprints towards him, tennis shoes squeaking as he advances. Jimin calls out for Hoseok but it’s a warning he ignores. 

“Hyung!” 

His hand makes a fist as he closes the distance, his feet ache at the sudden movement before stopping and throwing his fist into Allan’s face. The man staggers, hand reaching up to nose as Hoseok shakes out his hand with gritted teeth. He knows it’ll hurt in the morning but the red he sees triumphs over everything. 

“What the fuck, dude?! Over some chick?!” He tilts his head, watching blood begin to leak from the man’s nose. 

“Some...chick?” He snaps. His hands reach out to grab Allan’s neck before arms wrap around his waist, tugging him away from the man. “She isn’t some chick! She’s a fucking angel and you ruined her life for two fucking years, you ignorant bastard! You never deserved her! She fucking cried every day because of you. You fucking asshole!” His words echo throughout the empty street as Jimin drags him down the sidewalk. The bottom of his shoes scuff up as Jimin pulls him past his girlfriend without a word.

“Some fucking chick. I’ll fucking kill him.” Hoseok mutters to himself before flailing his arms and straightening up his body. He shoves Jimin off of him before dusting off his hoodie and spitting on the floor in the direction he came from. Jimin places a solemn hand on his back before looking at Lillian, drawing his attention to her as she folds her arms with a raised eyebrow. He takes her into his sights before pressing his lips together and clearing his throat. The words fly out of his mouth so fast he has no chance to take them back.

“Let’s break up.” Her face contorts as if she’s been shot. Her mouth hangs open as a breeze wafts through the empty street. On the breeze is the smell of lavender, the smell of comfort for him and he can’t seem to find it in him to feel solemn about the words he has just spoken. He becomes entranced by the smell, eyes closing as he takes a deep breath. There’s that relief he wants to feel. It radiates through him like the sun on a cloudless day. And, before he can open his eyes a flash of pain erupts from his cheek. His eyes open wide, his hand reaches up to touch his hot licked skin as Lillian steps back. 

“You’re an idiot. Jung Hoseok.” He swallows thickly before rubbing at his sweltering cheek. Jimin steps in front of his body, blocking him as Lillian tries to advance once more. A hand finds his chest before shoving him back, “We’ll get going.”

The screech that finds his ears almost deafens him, but he can’t feel sorrow. He knows he did the right thing. “Everyone is getting battered today.” Jimin murmurs before fixing his leather jacket and putting his hand on Hoseok’s back as he holds his cheek.

The apartment is warm when he gets home, you raised the heat for him knowing how chilly it can get during the night around here. Your bedroom door opens with a squeak and you rouse at the sound. He stands in your doorway, shoulders drooping before taking off his hoodie. “Seok?” He hums in agreement before padding over the wooden floor and lifting up the comforter. His thin frame slides underneath before wrapping his arm around your waste. You blink blearily, eyes trying to adjust to see him in the dark. His brown hair falls into his eyes as he looks down at you. He grips you tighter, holding you so close as if you were going to turn to dust and disappear. Your eyes adjust, widening slightly when you see his pink, puffed cheek. “What happened to you?!”

He chuckles quietly as you place your hand on his skin. His eyes flutter shut as you rub your thumb over his pronounced cheekbone. “I broke up with Lillian and she slapped me.” You take a sharp breath through your teeth, eyes widening at his admission. You open your mouth to reply but he pulls you into his chest with force that knocks the wind out of you. “I went out tonight and I couldn’t stop thinking of you. Thinking about what you were doing and what you would have been doing if you were out with me. I kept thinking of how much I missed laying in bed with you and how much I love holding you.” 

“I missed you laying with me too.” Your confession is quiet but he hears it loud and clear, a heart smile spreading across his face before kissing the top of your head. Hoseok’s eyes search your own alight with something that makes your heartbeat faster.“This is what it should always be. I don’t want to spend my days falling asleep without you. I don’t want to constantly think about you as if you’re far away. I want you here, in my arms like always. I want to get drunk and go get paint at 6 o’clock in the morning. To wake up with you in bed laying next to me. I want-I want you to love me. Like, I love you.” 

You pull away from his chest, eyes glancing up through thick lashes at his handsome face. This is what it always should be. You and him. Until time stops and falls flat. His eyes glance at your lips before licking at his. One smooth motion that has your neck heating up with a blush. “I’m going to kiss you, and I would really like it if you didn’t pull away.” Your breathing stops, your lungs feel aflame as he closes the distance between you. 

His lips press to yours, soft and agile and time does feel as if it stops. His kiss is heartfelt and full of yearning before it turns into something more. Something needy and explosive. His tongue slips out, licking at the seam of your lips. His hands run over the expanse of your back, running his tongue over yours. A soft mewl is coaxed from your lips, only to be swallowed by him as he rolls you onto your back. His hands find purchase next to your shoulders as he straddles you. He breaks the kiss, only for a moment to utter words that leave your head nebulous, “I love you, Y/N.” 

“I love you too.” His lips are back to yours, earth shattering and heart fluttering as his hands dip beneath the cotton fabric of your sleeping shirt. With warm hands he rubs at the skin of your stomach, your body arches into his touch begging for more as your core begins to unfurl in wanting. His lips leave yours to worship at the skin of your neck, hands raising your shirt higher before looking up at you for confirmation. You wordlessly lift your arms, back bowing off of the bed to let him strip you of the material. The shirt is discarded aimlessly as he sits up to drink you in. It dawns on him, how utterly helpless you are under his stare and you wilt slightly bringing your arms to cover your chest. Hoseok clicks his teeth before leaning back down. “You’re gorgeous.”

The wanton sound of his voice gives you solace as he peppers your neck with kisses. Light as a feather before suckling at your soft skin leaving red and pink petals in his wake. You let your arms go lax, hands coming up to run through the thick locks of his brown hair. “That’s my girl.” It’s with that sentence that it all comes crashing down on you, he loves you and in turn you love him. It’s always been this way, always finding comfort in one another and never dwelling on it long enough for you both to realize just how perfect the two of you are for one another. Your chest swells with ardent tenderness as you grip at his hair. His lips trail lower, angling his body downward to be able to taste all of you. He cups your breasts, thumbs running delicately over your nipples as they harden into stiff peaks. Your core shudders, arousal begins to weep from your sex and you’re acutely aware of how your panties dampen. 

His lips shroud your nipple in the wet warmth, gently suckling as his fingers roll and pluck at your other unattended breast. Your soft moans, echo throughout the lavender painted room and earn groans from the man you’ve deemed your best friend for most of your life. His teeth softly rake against the sensitive skin, goosebumps prickling as your mouth drops open. He presses his body half flush against your thigh and you can feel how hard he is through his jeans. Your eyes open, to watch him love on you and you are met with his gaze hot and molten staring back at you. His pupils are blown, making his usual chocolate eyes almost black with lust. With each suckle, his fingers pinch harder until your writhing underneath him. Hips lifting off the bed, begging for relief. He leaves your nipple to attend to the other- but not before suckling at the skin around your areola leaving small marks claiming you as his own. 

His lips pluck teasingly at your other nipple before dipping his hand down your stomach, his hand splays rubbing at the band of your underwear with his thumb. Your moans are growing louder, chest beginning to feel breathless as he pulls away from your breasts with a loud suction noise. It’s then that he leans up to plant a kiss against your lips, so soft as if it were the wings of a hummingbird. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He does it again, sucking your life force from your lungs as he kisses down. Past the valley of your breasts, past your belly button that he gives a gentle nip to. He suckles at the skin about your panties, fingers hooking in the sides before looking up at you.

“We can stop, right now. We can stop and I can go back to my room.” You answer him by lifting your hips, with the bite of his bottom lip he is gently peeling off your underwear. Eyes  alight with wonder as he looks towards your gleaming sex. You can feel how wet you are, how you’re dripping and it’s all for him. He licks his lips, eyes flickering back to yours before throwing your underwear to the side. His hands find your thighs, taking the time to knead and kiss them before spreading your legs for him. “Look at you, baby. Dripping.” His voice is deeper, the bass in his voice encased with lust as he runs a finger down your soaked folds. The pet name has you biting your bottom lip, the corners of your mouth turning up on their own. With a gasp, you watch as he spreads your lips open. Eyes lewdly staring at you, taking you all in. “Fuck. Your pussy is nice.” A giggle escapes your lips, hand covering your eyes as he chuckles up at you. 

Your giggle dies in your throat as he sucks at your lower lips. Your hands grip tighter at his hair, pulling at the roots as your hips bow off the bed. “Taste so sweet.” His eyes are filled with this veneration that sends your walls fluttering, rippling around nothing. His tongue licks at your clit, experimentally waiting to see your reaction. When your hips buck up, begging for more, he begins to lap harder against your swollen bud. You moan his name, his mouth stills before pulling away. A smile spreads on his face before giving a flat lick that has your body sagging into the bed. “That sounds so perfect coming for you, little one.” 

Your head swims with heady pleasure, Hoseok himself seems drunk off of your taste. His eyes roll back as he prods at your entrance with his tongue. The muscle stiffens before entering you, your thighs twitch opening wider for him as you whimper out his name. His hands steady your thighs, soothing rubs of his thumbs keep you grounded as he whorls his tongue around inside you. He finds your sweet spots, where you moan louder for him, where you grip his hair tighter. “Fuck, you taste amazing, baby.”  His voice is a mumble before his mouth is encasing your clit once more. His tongue prods at the nub, licking and caressing until your moans have turned to sobs. His fingers leave the flesh of your thighs to tease your sodden entrance. "So wet for me, baby. You want me inside?"

"P-Please!" You croak out, hands pressing into his scalp as your core begins to tighten. You wanted to feel it, feel that shot of pleasure coarse through you. Your hips begin a lazy grind, rubbing against him for relief as he slips a finger inside. Your mouth opens, tongue licking at your bottom lip and he curls his finger expertly inside of you. He does it once, twice before finding the golden spot. "Right there? You like that, baby? Going to cum all over me?" You nod fervently, your bottom lip tucking between your teeth as your hips begin to buck relently on his outstretched tongue. The tightness feels stifling, your toes curl. Ears ringing with white noise as your heart lurches to feel relief. He adds a second finger, before rapidly tapping the smooth spot within you.

"Gonna...Gonna cum, Seok." He groans in agreement, lips latching back on to give harsh sucks. 

"Cum for me, baby. Show me what a good girl you can be." The tip of his tongue swirls around your clit and the tightness explodes. Like a million stars that light the galaxy, your body feels as light as air, falling boneless onto the mattress underneath as you ride out your high. Hoseok watches you come undone, his mouth detaching from you to kiss at your thighs as the shake from the pleasure. "God, you're fucking pretty when you cum." 

Your blink slowly, your chest begins to breathe normally as he crawls over you. His fingers ghost over your bottom lip, before pressing his own flush against them. Your hands raise up to touch him, fingers dancing over his clothed body before beginning to frown. He had way too many clothes on for your liking. You tug at the bottom of his shirt, his lips forming a smile before giving you a quick kiss. His arms cross, fingers curling around the hem of his shirt before lifting them to reveal his upper body. This is a sight you've seen a million times over and yet, you press your thighs together as want begins to bloom within your chest. Your fingers graze his stomach, small abs defined under his skin. Even in the darkness, his skin still sings out the color of honeyed caramel. The smell of musky oakwood draws you in as his lips find yours once more. His fingers move deftly, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants before biting gently on your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth as he pulls away. 

He rids himself of his pants before your eyes fall to his briefs. The tented fabric makes your eyes snap up to his as he trails his hands along your sides. It was an impressive sight to see, you palm your hand over his clothed erection. His eyes closing as he sucks in a short breath, tongue licking at his bottom lip. The grey fabric begins to darken with his precum leaving a quarter sized spot that has your walls throbbing, begging for more pleasure. You sit up, hair falling in rivets over your shoulders before pulling at the waistband and sliding them down. His cock springs out with a heavy slap to his abdomen. You can do nothing but marvel at his size. He’s large, two toned in length with rose colored veins that trail the long length. His thickness makes your mouth water, a slight curve is evident as you wrap your hand around him. He hisses out, head tilting forward as his brown hair falls into his eyes. The protuberant tip is blushed pink as precum begins to bead from his slit. You pump his cock in hand, feeling the heaviness of him and your arousal begins to drip once more as you hear him moan for you.

His cock is smooth and you find yourself sitting all the way forward before kissing down his length. “Oh, fuck.” You tongue peaks out to caress the warm thin skin and his hands card through your hair with ease. His body falters before falling back, his muscular thighs shake in what you know is wanting. You move with him, straddling his thighs as you lean down. His cock is beautiful and yours, which is an interesting thought that you can’t seem to dwell on for more than a second as he twitches within your palm. Kissing along his shaft, licking at the one prominent blushed vein has him moaning your name loudly. 

You lick at his weeping slit, gathering the precum he is beginning to produce mercilessly and he sighs gently in relief. The taste is musky and thick on your tongue and you can only equate it to him. It’s so perfectly him that you find yourself needing to taste more. Arousal drips down your thighs as you begin to suckle at the head. Tongue licking circles around it before dipping your mouth down his length. “Oh, baby. Fuck.” His grip tightens on your hair, you take in all that could fit in your mouth before stroking whatever is left of his long length. You lave at the smooth length, moaning as he tugs gently on your gripped hair. “Look at me, please.” Your eyes snap to his, watching how sweat begins to bead on his sideburns. The tips of his brown bangs are slick against his forehead as he opens his mouth enraptured as you bob your head on his cock. Your cheeks hollow, trying to take more of him. You gag on his cock, a sound that makes him whimper as your eyes become blurry with tears. 

“Y/N.” The word is spoken with reverence as his bottom lip is tucked between his teeth. He reaches forward sitting up on one hand that perches itself behind his back. His fingers shakily run up your thighs before meeting your apex. You moan on his cock, the vibrations making his eyes roll back as another spurt of precum coats your tongue. His fingers circle your soaked clit gently before pushing farther back to your entrance. You whimper against him, head bobbing faster as he swallows a groan. Your entrance welcomes his two fingers, coating him easily in your cum and arousal and he growls gently at the feeling. He goes knuckle deep before flicking at your sweet spot, the action making your thighs feel like jello as you grip at the sheets on either side of his body. His fingers begin to scissor inside you, stretching you for what is to come. “Gotta prep you baby, your little pussy is so tight. Fuck.” Your knuckles turn white as you pump his cock with every dip. You feel him begin to throb, his head lolls back mouth opening widely as he still continues to stretch you.

“Shit! You’re so good at that.” You feel high off of his praise, you try to take him deeper swallowing a few times until he is lifting you off of his cock as his throbbing becomes erratic. 

“Wanna cum in your sweet pussy.” He pulls his fingers from you before entering them into his mouth and moaning at your taste. He sucks them clean, before pulling them out with a gentle pop. His hands splayed across your back before laying you down. His nose brushes yours, a romantic gesture that has your heart fluttering. His eyes search yours as he knocks your legs open before settling inside them. He grips the base of his cock, running his head over your damp folds before smiling down at you.

“I love you.” The ardour in those words makes the corners of your lips quirk up into a smile as he returns it. “I love you, too Seok.” He kisses you, languidly licking at the seam of your lips before prodding at your entrance. Your mouth opens as he begins to stretch you, your hands wrapping around his neck and tucking into the base of his hairline. His hands grab at your thighs, kneading them before wrapping them around his slim hips. His tongue probes against yours moaning quietly into your mouth as he begins to fill you slowly. He inches in easily, your arousal coating his thick cock as he stretches you. It’s a delicious cocktail of pleasure mixed with the slight twinge of pain from the stretch. “You’re so tight, baby.” He whispers breathlessly, his breath tickles your cheeks before kissing down your jaw to your neck. Your walls ripple around him, feeling him fill every part of your needy cunt. His cock reaches the furthest point, burying himself to the hilt before stilling and letting your pussy relax around him.

“Feel so fucking good, baby. So perfect like you were made for me, because you were.” Your thighs tighten around him as the pain is solely replaced with pleasure. You wiggle your hips, pleading for him to move, to let you lose yourself completely into the man that was just your best friend a mere hour ago. He pulls out slowly, the bulbous head of his cock dragging delicious against your walls as plucks at your skin with his lips. He thrusts back in gently, your mouths opening in tandem. “Fuck.” The curse leaves your lips at the same time and you both can’t help but giggle with each other before moaning as he thrusts back in harder. Your fingers tug at his hair, thighs tightening as you lift your hips for more. 

Hoseok lifts up to grab your hands before intertwining them and lifting them over your head as he continues at his slow pace. “I’ve loved you since I was ten. I’ve loved you since I knew what the word love meant. It’s always been you, Y/N. Always.” Your grip on his hands tighten and you smile up at him. 

“I love you, too. Probably for a lot longer than I think.” His smile at your admission makes your heart swell, your heartbeat quickens for him. He pours his emotion into his thrusts then, hips snapping and rolling as you moan each other's names in the dark room. His lips suckle at your areolas, tongue flicking in tandem with every thrust to your stiff nipples. His grasp on your hands tighten and the moan he elicits is so pure, so raw. Full of beaming energy that has your nerve endings firing rapidly with indescribable pleasure.  

“Seok.” His cock twitches as you call his name, hearing the lust filled rapture of your voice. His hips grind harder into you, stuttering slightly as his body shivers with pleasure. His lips continue to suckle at your heated skin, bucking quicker into you as you raise your hips higher. The newfound angle has you screeching with pleasure, throat going dry with need as you begin to lose all sense of words. You’re a stuttering mess underneath him, fingernails digging into his skin as he moans over your skin. With every thrust, his bulbous head meets the rough patch within you, coaxing you towards your next high. He mutters out, over your breast how much he loves you, how beautiful you are underneath him like this. Your thighs begin to shake, head lolling back as you reach the precipice. Your walls flutter for him, gripping him for your release. 

“Yes, fuck. I can feel it,” He gasps loudly, “Cum with me, baby. I’m close to cumming for you.” Your whine is needy and your mind sears with pleasure as his cock begins to throb harshly within you. It’s all you need before you’re warning him once more you’re about to cum. “Cum on my cock. Fuck, I love you. Baby!”

Your breathing slows down for a single second before speeding up twice as fast as you careen off the edge of pleasure. Your nails dig into his skin painfully, eyes rolling back as you orgasm with him. His hot seed spills inside of you, giving deep, harsh thrusts as he curses. It sets off a second wave of pleasure, toe curling and stomach flipping as your eyes become spotty. He breathes heavily against the skin of your chest, hot breath fanning over your feverishly sweaty skin. He groans gently before flopping down on top of you and wrapping his arms around you. You giggle gently, one hand resting over your heart and the other pushing his sweat soaked bangs off of his forehead. He kisses your cheek tiredly, before closing his eyes. “Do it again.” You angle your head to look down at him before smirking.

“Do what again?” He lifts his head, chin resting on your breast before showing you his megawatt smile. “Laugh for me. I love that sound.” You snort before kissing his forehead. “Do that again, too.” With a giggle and the roll of your eyes you kiss his forehead. He sighs happily before lifting up on shaky arms and slowly pulling out of you. He wiggles his eyebrows as your pussy weeps with his cum. Frothing your lips and the sheets white. “Now that, that is hot.” You laugh at his comment before swallowing thickly as he licks his lips. Time that seems to have stopped begins to flow again in your eyes. “Let’s get you a bath, baby.”

The sun wakes you up once again this morning, but everything is already different. You can feel Hoseok’s lips against your hair as he runs his thumb over the skin on the back of your neck. You tighten your arm around his waist before burying your face into his smooth chest. “Good morning to you too, baby.” You kiss his tanned skin, eyes closing as you relish in the heat of his body. “Morning, Seok.” He hums to you before giving three quick kisses to the top of your head and pulling back. “Lips, please.”

He puckers his lips, squeezing his eyes shut and you can’t help but giggle before sitting up and pressing your lips to his. He exhales gently through his nose before kissing you deeper, hands curving around your head before pecking at your lips once and then twice more. “Have you been up for a while?” You question as you lay back down on him. He nods, “Just been thinkin’.” 

Your eyebrows quirk up at his statement, “About what?” He points at the plaque on the wall and your head turns to look at the wooden slab. “Thinking about how amazingly perfect you are and how I can make you happy for the rest of my life.” His cheekbones bounce up as he smiles before hugging you tightly to him. “I can make you ‘Live’ a great life, with me, of course. I can make you ‘Laugh’ for the rest of your life because I love that sound and it’s what you deserve. And, I can ‘Love’ you forever and ever AND ever.” You lean up, kissing his cheek as warmth spreads through your body rooting you to the ground. He was your forever weight to the Earth and forever is the only term that matters. 

The sun begins to invade the room, its rays highlighting the uneven strokes of paint on the wall and you smile fondly. His eyes follow yours before squeezing you tightly to him. “Hoseok loves you.” The memory that was burned so brightly into your brain now has a new heart shattering meaning. “And, Y/N loves you.” 

#live #laugh #love #hoseok x you #hoseok x reader #bts smut #friends to lovers au #best friends #bts story #bts imagine #btswriterscorner #btscreatorscorner #jimin #bangtan #smut #pining #bts angst #bts fluff #jung hoseok #hyungsmutsociety

[swiftlylivie]

ayyy i'm so glad you wanna write something for ifwad!!!

Can i request ⌓, ⬤, and ✈ (or whatever combination of those floats your boat) for platonic Alex and Julie? thank you!

send a whump scenario and i will write a drabble (and if you send in alex related ones before midnight in my timezone, i will write them for international fuck with alex day)

⌓: tissues ⬤: being called soft things like baby, sweetheart or honey ✈: reaching out for someone [bonus points if they mumble! their! name!]

can be found on ao3 here

Julie wasn’t sure exactly what she was expecting to see when she entered the studio after school, but it’s safe to say the sight she was met with had been far from anything she could’ve been expecting.

Alex was laying on the couch, blankets pulled all the way up to his chin, and surrounded by so many tissues they could make a whole other blanket. His eyes were glassy and red-rimmed with bags so deep under them, they looked like bruises and his cheeks were flushed, but the rest of his skin was an almost deathly pale. Plus, he was covered in a sheen of sweat that had his hair practically plastered to his skin. And Julie had never felt more concerned in her life. Ever since the boys had come back to life, she tended to worry ... a lot. A lot more than was probably necessary. But she couldn’t help it, they were in just as much danger now as any other human being and she now knew that anything could happen, life could do the unexpected at any time. They may have been given a second chance, but there was no guarantee they would have any more than that. And this was the first time any of them had been sick, or anything out of the ordinary. She was maybe a little beyond worried.  But, she told herself, she needed to stay calm. Alex was the most anxious person she’d ever met, if she start freaking out, it would only make things worse. She took in a deep breath, told herself to calm once more, before she carefully made her way into the studio and called out to him. “Alex?” She spoke gently, stopping in front of the couch and kneeling down slightly. “Hey, are you okay, love?” Alex looked to her, as if noticing her presence for the very first time, and gave a weak smile. “Oh, hey, Jules. Yeah I’m fi - ” But no sooner had the words started to leave his mouth, was he suddenly cut off by a coughing fit that had Julie quickly helping him sit up, one hand gently patting his back and trying her best to just hold him through it as there wasn’t much else to do. He sounded bad, wheezing in between coughs, and when he was finally done, his head came to rest on Julie’s shoulder and the worry she was feeling only increased. “Oh, sweetheart. I think you’re anything but fine.” She spoke, voice still gentle, and Alex made a small, non-committal noise, accompanied by a shrug. She pressed a hand to the back of Alex’s forehead and almost immediately pulled away, letting out a hiss. “Lex, baby, you’re burning up. Do you know what your temperature is?” Alex gave a shake of his head. “No, been pretty much laying here all day. Haven’t felt like getting up to check.”  Julie frowned, looking around the studio, realizing it was just her and Alex in there. “Where are the boys? Do they know you’re sick?” There were still certain legal issues to be sorted out before the boys could be enrolled in school, so they pretty much stayed at the studio all day. It felt very unlike them to just leave Alex in a state like this. “Reg w-went with your dad to that photoshoot and think Luke went busking or something. But they don’t know, haven’t been home all day.” Julie noted how hoarse Alex’s voice sound, like he’d spent the entire day coughing. She let out a sigh. “Okay, okay.” She responded quietly, trying to weigh her options. She knew the best thing to do would probably be call her dad, but she also knew that ‘shoot was three hours away and by the time she got a hold of him and he got home, Alex could be even worse. Going to look for Luke would mean leaving Alex and she really didn’t think he needed to be alone a second longer. Carlos was supposed to be going to a friend’s house after school and spending the night, plus, as much as she loved her brother, she wasn’t sure there was much a twelve year old could really do.  After a bit more thinking, she made her decision. She would do what she could for Alex and just hope it could be enough until her dad, or someone else, was home. She turned to look at Alex now and noticed his eyes had fluttered shut, she couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not, but her voice was still quiet as she carefully said his name. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes, they were still glassy and he just looked so miserable it practically broke her heart. “Hey, sweetie. We’re going to go inside the house, okay?” She gently ran a hand through his hair as she spoke, noting how he leaned into it with a look of relief on his face.  “Why?” He breathed out, his voice hardly above a whisper and if Julie hadn’t been so close to him, she wouldn’t have heard it. “The studio is too cold for you to stay in while you’re like this, it won’t help you get any better. I’d prefer to have in a house with central heating and cooling.” She explained carefully, softly. Alex did nothing more than give a nod in response, which she took as a good sign that he was at least acknowledging her answer.  “Do you think you can make it into the house?” Alex lifted his head off her shoulder now, blinking blearily as he looked around. “Uh, yeah ... think so.” Though he didn’t actually sound too sure. Gently, Julie maneuvered her way around him, standing up and offering a hand out to him. “Alright, well, I’m going to help you, okay? You can lean on me as much as you need to, I promise. Don’t be worried about squishing me or anything.” Alex just gave another nod, and the fact that he didn’t protest this any further was just a sign of how sick he must be. Once Alex was up and leaning against Julie, the two of them thankfully made it into the house with little incident, aside from another coughing fit from Alex that had been so bad he’d almost passed out. But either way, Julie was relieved once they made it throw the front door and into the safety on the house.  She carefully led Alex into the living room, as much as she would prefer to have him in her bed she knew there was no way Alex could handle the stairs right now and she wouldn’t be able to get him up there on her own, and helped him onto to one of the couches. Once he was laying down, she grabbed a blanket and tucked it around him, pulling it up to his chin like he had had in the garage. “Hey, love.” Her voice was still soft and gentle, it hadn’t been anything else since she’d first found Alex. It took a second for Alex to focus on her, and his gaze didn’t even seem that focused. “I’ll be right back okay? I’m going to go get some things for you, but I promise I’m coming back.” And just like all the other times, Alex simply gave a nod in response. Which, Julie was kind of starting to a hate. A quiet and non-responsive Alex felt weird and unnatural. While he was never quite as chatty as Luke or Reggie, one thing that could always be counted on from Alex was a sarcastic or witty response, none of which was happening now. It took for a few minutes to gather everything she needed for Alex, a thermometer so she could actually get an idea of what his temperature was, a cool washcloth for his forehead, and a glass of water and some Tylenol, and when she came back, she realized Alex had actually drifted off to sleep. The last thing she wanted to do was wake him up, but she knew it was very important he take the medicine and she got an actual idea of what his temperature was so she knew if a hospital trip was necessary. She pushed her dad’s computer chair over to where Alex’s head was, sitting down in it before gently beginning to run her hand through his hair, softly calling out his name. After a few seconds, his eyes were blinking open and it looked like he was literally fighting to stay awake and she couldn’t help the tiny sigh that escaped. “Hi, baby, I know you just want to sleep, I know. But I need you to take some medicine for me and I need to take your temperature, okay? I promise it’ll only take a few minutes and then you can go right back to sleep. Can you do this for me, baby, please?”  To her relief, Alex nodded again and she helped him sit up, passing him the Tylenol and the water. Once he swallowed the medicine down, she took the water back (after urging him to take a few more sips) and stuck the thermometer under his tongue. It only took a minute for it to beep and once it did, she breathed the tiniest sigh of relief. His temperature was 102, which was high, but not high enough that she needed to call 911 or anything. Thank god. She helped Alex settle back down, laying the wash cloth across his forehead. She then took her hand and began to run it through his hair once more, feeling him begin to relax under her touch and it was only a few minutes before his eyes were drooping shut and he was drifting off once more. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Julie wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed, when she was jolted awake by the sound of someone whimpering and calling out her name. It took her brain a few minutes to catch up, for her to realize she had fallen asleep in the chair next to Alex.  Alex, who was sitting up but his eyes were still screwed tightly shut. Alex, who was reaching out, presumably for her, and letting out small whimpers, calling out for her.  Immediately, she sat on the couch next to him, placing a hand on either side of his, noting that at the very least he didn’t feel as warm. “Hey, hey, hey, Lex. Alex, baby, love, wake up. Open your eyes, I’m here. I’m right here. Come on, baby, I just need you to open your eyes for me, okay? I’m here, honey, I’m here. I’m right here.” She was speaking softly, though there was slight hint of franticness to her tone, and she began to brush her thumbs back and forth across Alex’s cheeks. After what felt like an eternity, but in reality was only about a minute, Alex’s eyes fluttered open and he locked eyes with her. “Julie.” Was all he said, before he was practically diving into her arms and she was catching him, wrapping her arms tightly around him and holding as tight as she could without hurting him. “Hey, shhh, Lex it’s okay, baby. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I got you. I got you.” She began to move her hand in soothing circles on his back, while she angled her head enough to press a kiss to his temple, hoping to just provide as much comfort as she could.  “Do you want to try to lay back down?” She asked gently and she felt him tense in her arms. “I won’t go anywhere. I’ll lay down with you, I promise.” She then felt him nod against her chest. Carefully, she laid them both down onto the couch, and though it was a bit of a tight squeeze, she refused to let go. She wouldn’t break her promise. She continued her motions on his back, and it wasn’t long before the both of them drifted off once more, cuddled as close together on the couch as physically possible. Which was how exactly how Ray, Reggie, and Luke found them a few hours later. None of them had the heart to wake either up, so they just figured they would get the information they needed once both fully were.

#{pluto answers} #{pluto writes} #chickwiththepurpleguitar #{show: julie and the phantoms} #alex mercer #julie molina #jatp #julie and the phantoms #ifwad 2021 #{thank you sm for sending this in! hope you enjoy this!} #{will be posting this to ao3 and will rb w a link once i do}

[one-smuts]

.......ok!

What I can't Have.

Summary: Shinsou falls in love with Denki just in time for Denki to fall out of love with him.

Ships: Denki/Jiro- fluff, Denki/Shinsou- Angst.

Pov: Shinsou

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

I was happy for him at first. Honestly I was.

It was getting sad for awhile, the way he followed me around like a lost puppy. The lost lovestruck look in his eyes when he looked at me. I felt like a monster, but at the time, I didn't feel that way for Kaminari.

He was my friend, my best friend even. But my lover? I just couldn't phantom it. I remember sitting him down to tell him. He seemed somehow shocked I knew how he felt. The thing about Kaminari is, he wears his emotions on his sleeve. For better or worse.

"So...you know how I feel?" He said, a spark of hope in his voice.

"I do."

"Aaand?..." Christ. He was gonna make me say it.

"I-I'm sorry Kaminari. I just dont feel the same. You're a great guy and all, I just don't feel that way for you. I hope we can stay friends though."

I think I watched his soul shatter that day.

I didn't see Denki for a few weeks after that. Im pretty sure he was avoiding me. Not like I could blame him though. It's hard to get rid of feelings when you see that person everyday. I missed him though. I missed him so much. Looking back, that probably should have been my frist hint.

When he started texting me again, it was a relief. I had my best friend back! And we xkuld actually talk and hang out now. No more lovey eyed guilt trips he didn't even know he was taking me on. Apprently, he'd gotten really into music to process his emotions, and it really helped him heal.

We have Jiro to thank for that.

I don't hate Kyouka. I think she's actually a wonderful girl, and I nothing but thankful for her, for being there for Kaminari when I couldn't be.

That said, the moment he introduced us j saw it. He had that same love struck look in his eyes. It didn't surprise me. Kaminari had the heart of a hopeless romantic, it was made of elastic.

The difference was, she had the same eyes for him. It shocked no one when they started dating. And look, I was happy for them! Denki deserved someone who could love on his level and Jiro fit the bill. She was kind and caring, and they both loved music. I couldn't believe it, but she tought his tone deaf ass to play guitar! They have a small band together now. They make amazing music.

And they really are adorable together. I started inviting Jiro to our hangouts, so she knew she was welcome. At first, I thought I was annoyed at being a third wheel. Watching them curl into eachother on the couch, while I sat on the floor on movie night. How they would get into these feedback loops of just gushing over one another. And don't even get me started on the playlisys.

But, slowly I realized it was more. It was in the way he held her close at all times. They way he talk about her, as if she was some divine gift. It was in the way he looked at her, with those love struck puppy eyes.

Fuck, I missed those eyes being on me.

Leave it to me to only realize I want someone once I couldn't have them. My stomach would turn into knots when's I saw him. My head would feel light, and on the rare occasion it was just us, I'd get damn near giddy. I was a love struck fool.

And, maybe it really was just so I could heal and move on. Maybe it's because I'm selfish. Maybe it was because some tiny part of me hoped he'd leave her for me. But, I told him exactly how I felt.

It started out normal, we were playing Mortal Kombat, but, I guess he noticed my game was off.

"Alright, what's wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"You lost."

"I lose all the time."

"Yea, but not with noob!" His laughed was always so adorable. "Noobs your main! So what's going on?"

I got cold feet at the question. I was I was sure I wanted to tell him, but now...

"Im fine, I promise."

"Hitoshi, you know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Yea?"

"So why are you keeping secrets now?" He asked. He was right. It didn't ruin things when I rejected him, why wouldn't work out the same way in reverse? And his smiled was so warm, and inviting.

"I-..I think I love you."

"Aww, I love you too bro!"

"No, Kaminari, I mean I love you."

His smile dropped.

"What?"

"Look, I know that I said I didn't feel the same, and at the time I didn't, but I love you! Seeing you with Jiro made me realize, I-"

"Hitoshi, that's not fair." Denki said, uncharacteristically cold. I could see the tears form in his eyes. But, it wasn't the same as last time I saw them. These weren't tears of heart break.

"I waited a whole year for you. I wanted you, for so long, and you told me you didn't want me. Not the other way around. And now thG I'm happy and everything is good, and, for the first time in forever, I feel like I'm not carrying bricks on my chest, you wanna do this? Hitoshi, do you like seeing me hurt?"

"No! Kaminari, I would never do anything to hurt you!"

"Then why tell me?! What did you expect?! For me to just leave Jiro and come running into your arms? I love Jiro. And I'm pretty sure she loves me. She loves me enough not to try and crash everything I worked so hard to build." He was crying now. I wondered how over me he really was. I wondered if that was selfish to think.

"No, I don't want to break anything you built-up. I just had to get it off my own chest. I don't want you to leave Jiro, I just...I dont know."

"I-..I dont know either man. I'm sorry but, I really don't feel the same anymore. I don't know why I'm so mad about it." He confessed. He refused to make eye contact. "I guess I'm just mad that I spent months miserable over the fact that you'd never love me. And, I guess it all feels like it could have been avoided now."

"Im sorry."

"But, I don't know if I want to have avoided it." He wiped his eyes with his sleeve. He wasn't crying anymore, but his eyes still had had a sharpness.

"If I avoided it, I wouldn't have gotten so close to Jiro...but...I just.." He cut his own thoughts off with a groan, hiding his face in his hands.

"Im sorry."

"I know you are." He mumbled. He looked over at him. "I loved you Hitoshi. I really truly did."

"Its not too late, I-" that was the wrong thing to say. A scowl came across his face.

"Yes it is. I loved you. Ed. Past tense. My emotions and how I feel don't get pushed to the side because you finally came you your sense and realized how you felt. My relationship isn't going to just end because you want it to."

He grabbed his backpack and stood up. I wanted to reach out for him and make him stay. But, I knew that would be wrong.

"I-I'm sorry Hitoshi. I just dont feel the same. You're a great guy and all, I just don't feel that way for you anymore. I hope we can stay friends though." He mumbled as he walked to the door. He looked back at me.

"I'll see you later man."

"See you later."

And thats where we are now. I've been laying on my bed going over this entire situation in my head for hours. I definitely could have gone about that last interaction diffrent, but, it doesn't matter. I missed my shot.

Stupid late stage crushes.

I can't help but think about how he must have felt just like this all that time ago. And I feel almost worse knowing I put him through it.

But, I know I can't lose him. He's my best friend, I'd be devastated to lose him completely.

So, I guess I gotta just get over it.

_________________________________________

A/N: hope ya like it @firelove151! I haven't ever really written anything like this before so, as always constructive feedback is welcome!

#mha #my hero academia #jiro x kaminari #denki x shinsou #kamijirou #shinkami #denki kaminari #jirou kyouka #shinsou hitoshi #multiship #angst

[bowl-of-shortness]

Ozqrow week, day 3

Sick day/Playing hooky

@ozqrowweek

“Fucking finally.” Qrow grumbled as he threw open the door to his house. Work had been miserable today, nothing of the fun variety like usual, just stupid meetings and talking with people. “I took this job because I didn’t want to talk to people. Not the other way around.” Although being a bounty hunter was as unpredictable in relations with people as it was handling grimm. He had gotten off work way earlier than he anticipated, normally he would’ve stayed out the entire day, but today it wasn’t even close to noon yet.

He stayed in a 2 hour meeting and then was allowed to leave, probably the only good thing about going to work today. As he flopped down onto the couch he started to contemplate what to do today, as much as he wanted to visit Oz he was probably busy, same with Glynda. Qrow sat up and looked around his small house, it was dimly lit, and there were clothes and trash laying around.

Heh, Ozzy would have a fit if he ever saw this. Maybe that’s what he could do, clean the house for once.

Qrow’s scroll rang, snapping him out of his thoughts. Picking up the small blue brick, he looked to see who was calling. Qrow arched an eyebrow, “Speaking of Ozzy...”. The noirett shrugged and answered “Hey Ozzy.” The voice he was expecting didn’t answer, rather a different familiar voice. Glynda sighed “Hello Qrow, it’s not Oz but it involves him.” Qrow’s original expression of confusion morphed into one of concern. “What happened?” He questioned, “Seems Oz pushed himself too hard again and got himself sick. Unfortunately I can’t take today off to take care of him, hence why I’m calling you.” Qrow could practically hear her frustrated expression, “No problem, what’s he sick with?” “Some respiratory illness, I’m not quite sure but he’s coughing violently.”

Almost on queue, Qrow heard violent coughing in the background. Seems cleaning the house is gonna have to wait. “Aight, give me a little bit and I’ll be there.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, “Thank you.”

Qrow opened the wooden door to the decently sized house and stepped inside, instantly he heard the coughing he heard over the phone and the familiar scoldings of Glynda. Turning the corner he found Ozpin laying on the couch, ouch, he looks worse than he normally does.

Ozpin looked over at him with exhausted eyes, Glynda turning around at the action, “Oh good, you’re here. I wrote a list of things he needs, just to make your life a little easier.” Qrow skimmed the list before turning back to her “Thanks. Now go to work before you get in trouble with anyone.”. Glynda thanked him again before exiting the house, leaving the two men alone.

Ozpin coughed again, huffing in irritation before collapsing back down on the couch. Qrow cocked an eyebrow and smirked, “And this,” he walked over and crouched down to Oz’s couch bound level “Is why I keep telling you to take breaks. You look like hell.”

Ozpin rolled his eyes, “Thanks.” Oz always was a bit sassier and grumpy when he was sick, ever since he was a kid. Qrow shook his head before standing up and picking Ozpin up. “H-huh?” Ozpin questioned, confused at the action, Qrow explained nonchalantly “I’m moving you to bed, it’s more comfortable that way.”

Once Ozpin had been secured in bed he almost instantly fell asleep, almost. He shook himself awake at the last minute, an action Qrow took notice to. “Y’know, it’s ok to sleep.” “No, it really isn’t. Not for me.” Ozpin choked out, in the process of losing his voice from all the violent coughing, The noirett was on the opposite side of the room getting some cough syrup for him. “For starters, you’re trying to give me medicine. It is quite difficult to do that if I were sleeping. Secondly, the nightmares get worse.” Fucking hell. This conversation again.

Qrow turned and looked to him, “Oz—“ “I don’t want to hear it.” He snapped. Seems this was a discussion he wasn’t in the mood to have, fine. “We’re talking about this later whether you like it or not.” The shorter man internally grumbled. After giving Ozpin his cough syrup, and him promptly chugging it down, Qrow joined Ozpin on the opposite side of the bed.

The silverett immediately latched onto Qrow in a hug, “Clingy, that’s new.” He thought curiously. Of course, he didn’t mind, why would anyone turn down a hug from this man? The shorter Necromancer started rubbing circles into the taller ones back, and soon, he heard gently snoring. Qrow internally breathed a sigh of relief, “Fucking finally, I wish he wouldn’t argue with me about this stuff.”

The noirett decided that it was best to make his partner something to eat for when he woke up. There’s just one problem with that, “Holy shit he’s got an iron grip on me.” Qrow couldn’t move. So there’s a few decisions the noirett contemplated, get up and risk waking Oz out of well deserved sleep, stay there and fall asleep with, or try to maneuver his way out of Ozpin’s iron grip. “Eh, it’s a nice thought to do it before he wakes up but it’s not necessary. Plus I’m comfortable so I guess I’m succumbing to my fate.” Qrow internally chuckled.

The noirett was woken up by Ozpin moving some time later, looking up at the taller mans expression Qrow noticed how he seemed to still be asleep. Something was off though, Ozpin looked, panicked, despite being asleep. It dawned on the shorter man “Nightmares.” He gently shook the silver haired man awake, Ozpin jolting upright once he was awake, breathing hard. His heavy breathing was interrupted by a harsh coughing fit as Ozpin attempted to stumble over to the bathroom.

Qrow watched him cautiously, it seemed like Ozpin had forgotten that Qrow was even there. He stayed silent for a while until Ozpin looked up at the mirror and stumbled back, nearly hitting his head. The noirett was quick to jump out of bed, “Oz!” Ozpin’s head snapped in the direction to the sound. “Q-Qrow, I—“ “Are you alright?! What was that?” The shorter necromancer hugged Ozpin tightly.

“I—, I thought I saw something. Heh, seems I was wrong.” Ozpin made a sound at the second part of that sentence that sounded similar to a chuckle while also a wheeze. Qrow, thoroughly concerned, helped Ozpin back into bed. Where Ozpin proceeded to latch right back onto him.

They laid there for a while, Qrow whispering reassurance to Ozpin and Ozpin staying silent. The silverett didn’t want to move, if he could, he’d stay here forever. Holding Qrow, feeling safe from all those nightmares, but life is cruel and they both have lives to live. But for now, even just for a day, he’d like to stay here. Ozpin snuggled in further, Qrow laughing at the reaction.

“If you get me sick with all this cuddling I’m gonna be so pissed at you.” “Mmm” Ozpin replied, not truly caring. Mumbling into Qrow’s charcoal colored hair, Ozpin spoke “Maybe then you would finally take a day off from work like I’ve been asking you to.” “Yeah yeah yeah. Whatever Ozzy, keep dreaming.”

The rest of the day was spent in bed, one occasionally getting up to grab something, then falling back to sleep, repeat cycle until the next morning.

Ozpin woke up, feeling much better than the day before, before he could turn to look at Qrow, the sound of violent coughing came from right next to him. Qrow collapsed back down on the bed from his coughing fit.

“Seems Someone is sick.” Ozpin smirked

“No thanks to you.” The shorter man glared up at Ozpin.

Ozpin feigned confusion while tapping a finger to his chin, “Hmmm, What was that you said? “Keep dreaming” about having you take a day off?”

Qrow rolled his eyes and turned over, facing away from Ozpin “Shut up.”

“I am not sure why you’re complaining~” the silverett replied in a singsong voice.

Qrow looked over his shoulder and glared, Ozpin smiled “You’ll be taken care of by me all day, so I truly am not sure why you’re complaining. I thought you liked me taking care of you and spoiling you~”

The noirett’s face flushed. Ok, he had a point.

Maybe being sick wasn’t going to suck as much as he originally thought.

#ozqrow week 2021 #rwby necromancer au #cloqwork #ozqrow

[the-great-imagines-of-1812]

Mystery of Love~ A Jo March x fem!Reader imagine

This is for @my-morning-straightjacket , to hold her over until i publish the next part to��‘To Love Another’ :)

Song Used: Mystery of Love, by Sufjan Stevens (lyrics in italics)

Summary: Jo and Reader’s relationship, from beginning to end.

A/N: fluff, ANGST, then fluff again. happy ending. also, i highly recommend you listen to the song while reading for more effect. :)

~~~~~~

Oh, to see without my eyes The first time that you kissed me

 First Meeting: December 25, 1861.

You remember the day you met Josephine March so very well. Being a childhood friend of Laurie’s who moved to France to further your education in art, you visited your best friend as often as you could, often several times a year. He and his grandfather always welcomed you with open arms; his tutor less, as you often had a habit from distracting him from his studies to go to the music hall or some party.

Ever sine you had moved across the sea, away from your family, Laurie always kept up his letters. He had practically begged you to come visit for Christmas, staying a couple of weeks through the new year. 

You, of course, said yes. You were long overdue to visit the Laurence household, and your own family. It wasn’t your fault; this semester at the University had been a tough one, and you were glad to have a two month’s break. 

You arrived in Concord, Massachusetts, on the mid morning hours of Christmas Eve. Laurie had practically run to you, sweeping you into his arms and grabbing your luggage off the port. Both of you spent the entire day chattering, catching up on one another’s lives.

Boundless by the time I cried I built your walls around me

After you spent hours by the fire place talking about your semester at the University, it was Laurie’s turn to speak. He told you all about the March family next door, and the loveliest of the sisters, Jo March. By the way he spoke of her, he was practically in love. You could see it in his eyes. 

You will always be able to tell by someone’s eyes. 

The next morning, you talked away with Laurie’s grandfather, telling him all about Paris. 

It all happened to fast. One minute you were eating, and the next you were carrying your breakfast to the March Family’s house, since they had given up theirs to the poor Mrs. Hummel and her children. The family greeted you all as soon as you entered.

You stood in the corner, awkwardly, since you didn’t now anyone, with the exception of Laurie and his grandfather. That was until a blonde, bright-blue-eyed girl approached you, to introduce herself.

She held out her hand to you, and she was oh so welcoming and her voice sounded like home. You wanted to hear it for the rest of your life. 

“I’m Y/N Andrews, it’s nice to meet you. You must be Jo. Laurie’s told me all about you.” 

White noise, what an awful sound Fumbling by Rogue River

She grasped your hand firmly. “Oh, it so nice to meet you. I hope Laurie has said all good things. Is your family by any chance the publishing Andrews of New York?” she questioned.

You nodded. “It’s my Uncle’s business.”

She kept her gaze on you. She thought you were beautiful. “Interesting. How come I’ve never seen you before?” 

“I live and study in France, furthering my education in the art field. But Laurie’s a childhood friend of mine.”

“How intriguing! A woman with a career?”

You blushed and nodded. “Indeed. I quite enjoy it.”

The conversation between you two flowed so easily, and soon enough she introduced you to the rest of her family. You and Amy got along great, with you telling her all about your art career. You and Meg talked about your favorite dresses. And Beth was the most quiet, but shyly showed you a song on her piano. 

Feel my feet above the ground Hand of God, deliver me

You had to go back to France a few weeks into January, in order o go back for the new semester. But before you had left, you and Jo had exchanged addresses, and had sent so many letters back and forth. She would send you original poems and stories, all about - you. It was strange and new, and beautiful. She always made you blush. You couldn’t wait to see her again. 

That May, you had finished your time at the university and planned to move back to Concord to stay with your family, until you got your own job and were able to move out. 

Therefore, you and Jo were able to spend much more time together. Oh, you remember the day she kissed you in so much detail. She took you to a field of lavender, and confessed to you as you both were sitting down, enjoying the sunshine. 

She covered your hands with her own and you brought your face close to hers. You heart was beating so fast. She traced a gentle hand along your face. 

“Jo I-”

“Shh. Relax, my love. Let me try this, why don’t you?”

You nodded, and she slowly leaned in, capturing your lips with her own. It was sweet. Having someone care for you in such a pleasant way; your soul almost left your body. 

Oh, oh woe-oh-woah is me The first time that you touched me Oh, will wonders ever cease? Blessed be the mystery of love 

You had never been happier in the time you shared with Jo. The sun seemed to shine just for you, and the stars at night, too. You grew closer to her sisters, too. You and Meg gossiped often. You would teach Amy an art class, free of charge. Beth was like the little sister you never had; she would often lay on you as you read her a story. Sometimes Shakespeare, sometimes Charlotte Bronte. 

Oh, but the time spent with Jo. You two would sit in the couch in the attic when no one was home, with your head upon her chest, and every once in a while, she kissed your forehead lovingly. After the story was done, she would bring you into a deep kiss, and the sunshine shined on both of you. 

You wished for moments like these forever. 

Lord, I no longer believe Drowned in living waters Cursed by the love that I received From my brother's daughter 

Among the both of you, there was talk about the future, a future where you two could live openly, free of judgement. 

“I’d marry you, you know.” said Jo one day as she kissed the shell of your ear. Both of you were cuddled up in front of the fire place at your house. 

“But, Jo-”

She kissed your nose. “Ah ah ah. No buts. We’ll be together under the eyes of the lord, he’ll bring us into his grace for eternity. We’ll live in happiness.”

“Sounds perfect to me, love.”

Like Hephaestion, who died Alexander's lover Now my riverbed has dried Shall I find no other?

But you were both so naive. Thinking that the world was made for you. That the sun would shine for the pair of you. 

“Mother, you can’t possibly do this to me. Father, tell her!”

“No, Franklin. Don’t speak. You will marry Alexander Cores by next week. No more discussions.”

You sobbed. “I wanted to have a career!”

“You will. As a housewife. Back in Spain.”

“Helene, you can’t possibly expect her to-”

“She’ll learn to be a proper lady, Frank. No more discussions. You’ll be married next week and straight off to Spain the day after.”

You ran straight out the door, no coat or anything. You had to go see Jo. You burst into the March home, with no regard for anything. She was talking with her sisters and fell into her lap, crying.

“Y/N! What’s wrong?” Amy said, putting a hand on your back. 

“They’re-They’re-” you said, your cries cutting you off.

“It’s alright, take your time.” Said Meg. You could feel Beth wrap her arms around your waist. No words needed to be said from her. 

Once you had gathered yourself up. You were able to explain. “They- my parents are forcing me to marry.” you felt tears come up in your eyes again. “And he’s taking me off to Spain!”

Jo felt her heart clench and drop in her stomach. She couldn’t lose you, not like this. She leaned down to kiss the side of your head. “Isn't there anything you can do? There must be something!”

“No there isn’t. The wedding is scheduled for next week!”

Oh, oh woe-oh-woah is me I'm running like a plover Now I'm prone to misery The birthmark on your shoulder reminds me How much sorrow can I take? Blackbird on my shoulder And what difference does it make When this love is over?

It was the night before the wedding. The fireplace in your room crackled and popped as you stared at the room. There were no thoughts in your head. You had given up.

You heard a knocking on the window. You got up and opened it. Jo. 

And just like that, you had burst into tears. Her face dropped at this, seeing your unhappiness. “Oh my love. Oh my sweet. It’s going to be alright.”

You trembled in her arms. “No it’s not! I’ll be away from you and never see you again! And I’ll be in pain, and it will be horrible!”

“One last night.”

“Jo, what?”

She fully crawled through the window, now in front of you. “Let me spend one last night with you. We’ll make this our forever. I’ll be gone by morning.”

You had  never nodded quicker. You brought Jo into your bed, letting her wrap her arms around you. “Oh, love of my life. Rest.”

She kissed the tears running down your face, and you soon fell unconscious. 

This would be your forever, after all. 

Shall I sleep within your bed? River of unhappiness

You had been in Spain for almost seven years now. You missed Jo more than you could fathom. Sure, there were letters exchanged back back and forth nearly every day, but it was nothing like kissing her or laying your head on her chest and having her read to you while basking in the sunshine and enjoying the privacy of the attic. 

In other words, you were miserable.

And as for Alexander- you really tried with him. You tried to love him, but you couldn’t. She was always on your mind. 

As for Jo, she could possibly be worse. She fell into a depression, and she couldn’t explain to anyone why, with fear of judgement. Believe it or not, she rote some of her best work during this time. 

All artists have to go through something tragic to create their life’s work.

Hold your hands upon my head Till I breathe my last breath

It was then that you prayed for a miracle. It was as if the Good Lord has heard your cry and decided it was time to align the stars for you two.

Alexander was caught in an embezzlement fraud from work, and was charged and put into prison for 6 years. His lawyers advised that you divorce him.

And so you did. Packed your bags, and booked boat tickets for Concord. 

It was then that you received the letter from Marmee. She detailed of Beth’s sickness, an advised you to come, in case anything should happen. You were more than happy to permanently stay in Massachusetts. 

You arrived early on a cold January afternoon in 1869. On the same port that Laurie picked you up on so many years ago. It now seemed dull.

But you were here to stay, no matter how glum it may be. 

You quickly made your way to the March house, without a single thought. You set your bags down as you came in, Meg’s twins coming to greet you. “Auntie!”

“Hello, my lovelies! Where’s your mother?”

“Hello, Y/N” Meg said, with a said with a sad smile, peeking out from behind the wall. You set the twins down and went over to her. 

“She’s passed, Y/N. Beth. She’s gone.” You could see the tears running down her face, the ones she was trying to hide. 

You brought her into a hug. “It’s going to be alright, Meg. I’ve got you.”

She cried into your shoulder before puling away. “Jo’s upstairs, you know. Just be careful. She’s fragile.”

You blushed. “How’d you know?”

She gave you a wink as she wiped away the last of her tears. “I always know. You can tell by the way you looked at one another.”

With that, you gathered your skirts and made your way up the stairs. Nearly tripping over the many skirts. Jo always said you wore too much. When you reached the top floor, there she was. 

Oh, oh woe-oh-woah is me The last time that you touched me

She was hunched over Beth’s bed, crying silently. She didn’t notice you come into the room. You nearly broke down at the sight of her. 

“J-Jo?”

Her head quickly shot up, eyes fixed on you. Your dress looked expensive; Alexander must have been well off. But you were the same beautiful girl she met way back. 

She stumbled as she walked over to you. She couldn’t hold it in anymore. She collapsed at your feet, grabbing at your skirts as you got to her level.

“Please don’t leave again! I’ve been in such terrible pain! Please!”

You stroked her hair, her head now being in your lap. 

“I’m here to stay, love. I’m not leaving.”

You were here for good. 

Oh, will wonders ever cease?

A year later, you and Jo were on a carriage ride to church on a warm, spring Sunday morning.

A secret marriage. You guys’ little secret. 

You took a black wedding band out of dress pocket, putting it on her finger. “With this ring, I take thee, Josephine March, as my loving wife. I promise to love and cherish you for all eternity. In sickness and in health, as long as be both shall live.”

You whispered, so the driver couldn’t hear you. “With this ring, I take thee, Y/N Andrews, as my loving wife. I promise to love and cherish you, for all eternity; in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live.”

She pulled you into a deep kiss, her hands on your neck and yours on her waist. As you pulled up to the church she helped you out the carriage, and you two gave each other a look as you went inside the building.

That day, you took communion together, and considered each other married in secret. 

Death was the only thing that parted you, as you passed away from tuberculosis in 1900. She always held your hand, even when you passed.

She passed away two years later, in 1902. Her last wish was to be buried with a photograph of you. 

You two met again in heaven and you were both young again, with the rest of the March family. Laurie and his grandfather, too. 

On the 26th of June, 2015, gay marriage was legalized in all 50 states under the Obama administration. In all states, people of all sexualities would be able to marry their partner, without discrimination. 

You and Jo rejoiced from above, along with everyone else. All that you wished was that it happened sooner. 

But you celebrated with joy along with everyone down in the land of the living. 

Blessed be the mystery of love. 

~~~~~~

A/N: I LOVED this. feedback is appreciated! :)

- Talya

#little women #little women x reader #little women x you #little women x y/n #jo march #jo march x reader #jo march x you #jo march x fem! reader #jo march x y/n

[imaginethathaikyuu]

countdown to christmas - day 6

kuroo tetsurou - fireplace

hi friends. a bit of a warning: today’s scenario is quite sad, mainly because sad is something i’ve been feeling a lot here recently. my point with this is to show that while christmas time is happy and cheery and fun, sometimes it’s really shitty, too. and if your christmas season isn’t going well, you’re not alone. 

i promise tomorrow’s scenario will be brighter. but just in case sad isn’t your thing and you need something to read, here are some links to happier scenarios:

yesterday’s christmas prompt  some kuroo fallin in love with reader  akaashi getting a sweet birthday surprise 

potential trigger warning: mentions of (the whole thing is about) a pet passing away gender neutral reader 

- 

The festive music playing on the radio cut through the dead silence that seemed to be suffocating you. And while it would typically lift your mood and force you into a familiar jolly state of mind, right now you were sure nothing could do that. 

You couldn’t help but realize how ironic it was that such a happy song was playing, though. 

Life goes on. There were people struggling everywhere every day. Bad things will always happen. But life as you know it always continues; the world doesn’t change just because your life does. Happy songs play on the radio even when you’re miserable. The sun still comes up every morning, no matter how desperately you wish to be left in the dark. 

And nothing you said would make Tetsurou, or yourself, feel better. 

You had to drive home from the animal hospital. He tried getting in the driver’s seat like usual, but you wouldn’t let him. And you couldn’t stop glancing over at him, as if you were checking to make sure he was still there. 

He was good at holding himself together, that’s for sure. But you knew once the dam broke, it’d be broken for a long time. 

The drive was hell. It only took ten minutes but it felt like an eternity. The entire time, you just wanted to get out of that damned car - Kuroo was feeling the same. But when you pulled into the driveway, neither of you made a move to get out. 

Tetsurou was the first to speak, though. “I don’t want to go in,” he said, and his voice was breathy. He was struggling to speak. You could see the wall he’d built up starting to crack. 

You reached out and ran your hand along his slumped shoulder; he looked so small sitting in that passenger seat, and your eyes were tearing up looking at him. 

He laughed as he said, “it’s gonna be so quiet.” 

He was clutching the collar that sat in his lap; he hadn’t let it go since the vet handed it to him. 

“I know,” you whispered. 

“I knew it was going to happen,” he said, shaking his head as if that would make his all of his bad feelings go away. He was really trying to be strong, you could tell. “But… I just hoped that - that maybe…” 

“Tetsu,” you said sadly. You didn’t really know what you were supposed to say. “They did everything they could…” 

And then it was quiet again. That’s probably what he needed right now. 

But it was getting cold, and you two couldn’t sit in the car forever. You’d have to go inside some time - sooner was probably better than later. 

“We should go in, babe,” you said. “I’ll make you some tea, alright?” 

“Okay,” he sighed, and you had to reach over and give him a kiss on his cheek just to make yourself feel a little better. 

You led him inside, which was much harder to do than either of you would like to admit. 

Tetsurou hadn’t come home to a quiet house in years. He doesn’t remember the last time he didn’t have a big brown furry monster - also known as Rex - welcoming him home. A part of him still expected to see the dog running down the hallway, tail wagging and ready to jump up to give him a few welcome home licks. 

He wanted to pinch himself until he woke up from this awful dream. 

He walked into the living room alone, for some reason still nervous to look under the Christmas tree to see if there was another broken ornament, even though Rex hadn’t been home since this morning. He sat on the couch and looked over at the fireplace, which so desperately needed to be lit, but he couldn’t look past the three stockings hung there. One for him, one for you, and one for Rex. 

“Fuck.” 

Of course something as awful as this had to happen days before Christmas. This was meant to be the happiest time of the year. But money he should be spending on dog food and new toys was now being put towards a vet bill. The new treats he had bought yesterday would now just be left in the cupboard. The cute Santa costume he had always made Rex wear on Christmas was just going to keep collecting dust. 

And the collar he held was now useless. So was the name tag hooked to it. 

When you came into the room and called his name, he nearly fell off the couch; he was so lost in thought that he couldn’t even hear you coming in the room. 

You sat his tea down in front of him and went to the fireplace to start it up; it was way too cold to go without it. You turned on the Christmas tree lights, knowing Tetsurou liked when they were on, and then you flicked on the TV and let the random Christmas movie playing fill the silent room. 

“Tetsu, baby,” you started as you sat down on the floor in front of the heat of the fireplace. “Will you come sit with me?” 

He felt like a zombie as he forced himself to slide off the couch and onto the floor so he could scoot over to you slowly. He was sure his eyes were hollow looking and his cheeks were tear stained - he didn’t know how you weren’t laughing at his appearance, and honestly he wouldn’t blame you for it. 

When he was in your reach you didn’t hesitate to kiss his cheek again - twice, actually, just for good measure. And he let his head fall onto your shoulder as he felt his eyes filling up with more tears. 

“I love you,” you told him, because you didn’t want to say anything else. 

“I know,” he whispered. 

“So did he,” you said. “He loved you so much, Tetsu… you were the best he could’ve had.” 

He didn’t know how to feel. He didn’t know whether to be sad or pissed or a weird combination of both; he didn’t know if he should be proud of himself or just feel sorry. But his confusing feelings did nothing to stop his cries; in fact, he’s sure that’s partly what he’s crying about. 

Rex was old. Kuroo had gotten him at age 12 - he was 25 now and he knew he was lucky Rex had lived for as long as he did. And he saw it coming, he really did. But that didn’t make it hurt any less. 

He still managed to laugh at himself, though. He must’ve looked like a kid, sitting there crying in your arms; it was almost pathetic, but he couldn’t care. 

“I just hope,” he started, crying and hiccuping his way through the words, “I just hope I made him as happy as he made me, you know?” 

“You did,” you replied, laughing at the memories your words brought up. “You did, Tetsu. Couldn’t you tell? He was so attached to you.” 

He laughed with you. “I know,” he replied. 

He was going to have more room in his bed now. But he was really regretting all the times he complained about Rex taking up so much space. He never thought he’d miss being forced out of his own bed by that near bear sized dog. 

He’d give anything for one more night like that. One more chewed up shoe. One more broken Christmas ornament. Hell, even one more puddle of piss to mop up. 

But as he sat there in your arms, listening to the crackling fireplace, he forced himself to come to terms with it. This was his life now - he wasn’t a dog owner anymore. And he should be grateful that Rex was in a better place - god, he hoped he was in a better place. At the very least, he wasn’t hurting anymore. Tetsurou would choose this pain over what Rex had been feeling recently any day. 

“Tetsu…” 

You had been wanting to say something since the car ride home, but you didn’t know when the right time was. You weren’t sure there would ever be a right time, but right now seemed good enough. 

“I know we got him a lot of treats and toys for Christmas…” 

Kuroo nodded, unsure what you would say next. 

“What if we took all that and donated it to the shelter?” 

Even though the thought only made him cry more, Tetsurou really liked the idea of that. If he couldn’t give it all to Rex, he wanted to give it all to the dozens of dogs who deserved it. 

“I’ll pick up some food, too,” he mumbled. “Maybe tomorrow.” 

“There’s no rush,” you said, but Kuroo disagreed. 

“We have to take it before Christmas,” he insisted. “I usually give Rex his treats early, anyway…” 

You couldn’t help but smile at that. This was the saddest you had ever seen Tetsurou, and the worst thing you had witnessed him go through. But somehow, he was still thinking of others. He was still so giving and generous, even though you knew he was running on empty. 

You knew donating the supplies would make him feel better. That’s why you had brought it up, after all. You admired him for that. 

“I love you,” you told him again. “So much.” 

He nodded and mumbled, “I love you, too,” before wiping his eyes and pulling his head away from you. He glanced at the fireplace, then over at the TV, and then at the Christmas tree. Just last night, Rex was laying underneath it. Now, the floor was empty. 

But at least he had those years with him. And at least he had you here now, holding him up when all he could think about doing was falling down. 

He didn’t know why, but more than anything, he felt grateful. He was probably going to cry more, he’d be upset for awhile, and he’d miss Rex forever. But Tetsurou was grateful. For time spent, for years of happiness, for you. Maybe this Christmas wasn’t going to be very happy, but that’s okay. There’s always next year.

#uhhhhh i know this is weird to write about lmao #but as always i am portraying my own current struggles/feelings through fanfiction #i hope u enjoy it anyway #thank u tetsurou for suffering for the sake of my fanfic <3 #christmas countdown 2019 #Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader #Kuroo Tetsurou #kuroo x reader #haikyuu imagines #angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu one shot

[strawberrysoup]

Let’s Review || Chapter 2

Peter Parker knew that his big sister would do anything for him to be safe and happy. She’d given up everything for him twice over already and would do it again in a heartbeat. And that’s why, when the criminal mastermind Tony Stark started inextricably following him around, he didn’t say a word. Because he knew without a doubt Penny would do whatever she had to if it meant keeping Peter safe. He had to protect her, just like she always protected him. He never considered what would happen if Stark decided both Parker siblings were worth taking. Never considered who else in Stark’s inner circle would agree. He just wanted to protect her and yet somehow, they both ended up with needles in their necks.

relationship: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character/Bucky Barnes, background Peter Parker/Tony Stark rating: Explicit warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Dark Tony Stark, Dark Avengers, kidnapping, non-con/dub-con elements, underage Peter Parker, emotional and psychological abuse, very dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

 Penny Parker worked, on average, 108 hours a week between three jobs to make ends meet for herself and Peter. His high school, a stupidly expensive private science academy, sucked the majority of her income up each month despite a scholarship. Rent was $1,200 a month, not including utilities. Peter ate like a quintessential teenage boy, which meant a pound of cereal every morning before school and the equivalent in the evenings when he got home from his clubs.

She didn’t sleep much and only had one rotating day off each week. After learning of Peter’s situation with Tony Stark, she slept even less and spent her days off doing any and all research she could into the man and her options for getting Peter away from him. By the time a month had passed since the revelation that her baby brother was being stalked by a super powerful, criminal mastermind pedophile piece of shit, Penny was a wreck of a human being. Even Peter, who was understandably wrapped up in his own head most of the month, had noticed the bags under his sister’s eyes and the harried look she carried about her at all times.

They joked that Penny had taken every bit of chaos from her parents combined genes, somehow managing to leave behind every ounce of intelligence for Peter. She was a walking, talking disaster on the best of days. He’d seen her stick a fork in a toaster, try to mix bleach and vinegar, hell one time she’d come home from work with a sprained wrist because she’d fallen off a ladder stocking some shelves despite the fact someone had been actively holding the ladder to spot her. But this was an entirely new level of disarray from his sister.

Peter could tell that she wasn’t coming up with any solutions that she was happy with. Despite their inside jokes, Penny had a weird sort of intuitive intelligence. She couldn’t do basic math in her head and forget anything to do with science, hell basic reading comprehension could be a trial at times.

What she knew was that Tony Stark had every police department in New York on his payroll, despite the act they put on that “they were doing everything in their power” to gather evidence on the 87 open investigations into him and his company. She knew that he had several politicians under the same thumb, not because it was public knowledge, but because somehow every bill that was put to vote that could be useful to Tony Stark passed into law (or however that sort of thing worked—Penny didn’t understand bills and laws and the senate or whatever, but who really did?).

She knew that the surrounding states were similarly within his range of power. That his companies’ holdings in California meant he had too much control there too. He had holdings in Alaska, Hawaii, and Puerto Rico as well. It wasn’t public knowledge, but Penny could read between the lines when things seemed too good to be true. Or, too good to be true for one Tony Stark. Everything aligned in a way that was so suspicious, she couldn’t figure out why the FBI or CIA or NSA weren’t on to him too.

In the end, all it meant was that nothing Penny did would really matter in the long run. Tony Stark was infinitely powerful in a multitude of states, rich and influential in a way that one person shouldn’t ever have the ability to be. And Penny Parker had $3,000 to her name and a shitty apartment and an even shittier car. Compared to Tony Stark, she wasn’t even good enough to be dirt.

It meant that she had to be more creative. Penny wasn’t smart, but thinking outside of the usually accepted parameters was kind of her specialty. There was no good way to get Peter away from Tony’s sphere of influence, but there were some ways. Maybe just a single way. A very unpleasant, single way that would rip her heart to shreds. But Penny had decided as a 13 year old that she would do everything she could to keep Peter safe and happy and fuck if she was willing to stop now.

***

“Are you still stalking the webcam feed?” Tony wondered if it was possible to push anymore exasperation into his voice as he walked into the main living room only to find Clint once again watching Peter’s empty apartment on the massive TV.

“Something might happen,” it was the same defense the assassin always used when caught in the act, but Tony knew that the blond actually just wanted to catch a glimpse of Penelope Parker.

In all fairness, even Tony could admit that the young woman was rather beautiful. Where Peter’s skin was milky white and freckled, Penelope had a tan that betrayed her father’s Israeli heritage. She was shorter than Peter, held more weight than her lanky but growing brother. Her hair was long and held a natural wave, the same colour as Peter’s. They had the same eye colour as well, but Penelope’s were more narrow and slanted. It wasn’t Tony’s cup of tea, but he could objectively understand the appeal.

In all honestly, Penelope Parker wasn’t his cup of tea as a person. Every time her name popped into his head, he felt a seething rage begin to build in his chest. Penelope fucking Parker, responsible enough to be deemed guardian of the most precious boy in New York but not responsible enough to actually take care of him.

Back when he thought Peter lived alone off his meager inheritance, the living situation had bothered Tony but not enraged him. After all, sure a teenage boy would be fine living in a shit hole if it fit his budget. But no, his sister was the one who made him live in that rat’s nest. His sister, who worked so often it left poor Peter neglected and alone, was the reason he had to walk through dangerous streets to get home at night. His sister.

His fucking sister.

No wonder Peter hadn’t told him he had a sister. She was probably a fucking monster, as selfish and miserable as the goddamn evil stepsister from Cinderella.

He’d caught enough glimpses of Penelope Goddamn Parker in the last month to last him a life time. She and Peter hardly interacted where the webcam could pick up, although sometimes they caught snippets of audio. Mostly, they witnessed just how addicted to the internet she was. She spent more time on her fucking laptop than she did talking to her own brother.

It drove Tony insane, knowing that the longer he left Peter in her care, the more neglected he would be. His baby boy was trapped in an apartment with an uncaring bitch who spent 90% of her time working and the other 10% ignoring him for whatever bullshit Instagram, Facebook nonsense she was so obsessed with. Tony didn’t even bother keeping a record of her internet history, after the first two days of monitoring had revealed she spent the entire time on Youtube.

“Yeah? And has anything happened in the last, oh, 6 hours since she left for work?”

“No but she should be getting home soon—” Clint winced, having walked directly into the trap Tony set like a dumbass.

“Stop watching the bitch on my TV, all you do is stare down her fucking shirt anyway.”

“The bitch would make a pretty decent lay if you’d give a guy a break.”

Tony Stark did not roll his eyes. Tony Stark was a genius, ran a weapons engineering empire, had the most important politicians in the United States in his back pocket. Tony Stark did not roll his eyes.

So Tony Stark Did Not Roll His Eyes at the blond parked out on his couch with a bowl of popcorn and a beer. No doubt there was a cheap ass pizza on it’s way up the elevator, despite the fact Tony employed some of the best chefs in New York for his private kitchen. Clint Barton was the worst sort of best friend Tony had, but he’d still kill for the dumbass.

“What has Penelope Goddamn Motherfucking Parker done now?” Sam Wilson questioned absently as he walked into the living room from the kitchen, quoting Tony’s general tone of voice when talking about the woman.

“She hasn’t even taken her shirt off where I can see it, can you believe that? Fucking ridiculous. With a rack like that she should be shaking her tits on camera for money daily,” Clint whined in response, gesturing to the empty room on the TV, “I swear she sleeps on that fucking couch almost every night and not once has she undressed in front of the computer.”

“You’re a freak, my dude,” Sam smacked the blond upside the head as he walked past towards the elevator, “Time table still on track, Stark?”

“Steady as she goes,” Tony replied, pulling his phone out of his back pocket, “Where are you going? Movie night starts in 20 minutes?”

Movie night was almost the most ridiculous thing Tony participated in on any given day. His inner circle was made up of the only people in the world he trusted, was made of up assassins and ex-military super soldiers and all sorts of genetically altered freaks, and somehow movie night had become a staple of their existence. To miss a movie night without a doctor’s note or a mission was a crime punishable by near exile in the form of a group silent treatment. Pepper, Happy and Pietro were currently exempt, away on a business trip as executive, body guard, and assistant.

“Just going to change,” Wilson gestured to his workout clothes and shrugged, “need to shower.”

“Now if only we could make you realize that needs to happen more than once a month,” Clint muttered quietly, only to have a dirty shoe nail him in the face a moment later.

The blond fell off the couch with a shout, popcorn flying everywhere as the bowl escaped his grip. Sam, who’s aim was almost as impeccable as Clint’s own, gave the man the finger as the elevator doors closed dramatically.

“You are a disaster of a human being,” Tony commented absently, still watching his phone as the little dot that was his baby boy moved through the city.

He ignored Clint’s protests, flopping onto the couch and making himself comfortable while the rest of the tower’s residents slowly ambled into the communal living room. Bucky and Steve were parked out on the recliner, disgustingly cute and cuddly even from a distance. They, like Clint, had a stupid fascination with fucking Penelope and were watching the webcam feed while they waited for everyone to arrive.

Natasha and Wanda wandered in while chatting, each already having a drink in their hand. Thor, Loki and Bruce all came out of the elevator at the same time, Bruce having come from the labs and the two brothers from the coffee shop on the ground floor of the tower. Sam and Rhodey entered at the same time from the stairwell, both having freshly showered after a long day.

“What are we watching tonight?”

The following argument generally lasted a solid 20 minutes, but Wanda and Natasha won out with a comedy horror they’d all already seen before. It left plenty of room for conversation while the movie played in the background, a deck of cards finding their way onto the coffee table as well.

“So what’s the plan for your boy’s sister, Tones?” Rhodey questioned as Sam dealt cards for their third game of poker of the night.

“I’m sure he’ll be ecstatic to get away from the bitch,” the man grumbled in response as he adjusted his hand, “He’d probably walk right out the front door and leave her in the dust if I asked. I figure I’ll give her an ultimatum: Peter comes with me and she shuts the fuck up, or Peter comes with me and she finds herself in a shallow grave.”

“I think I could draw her tits from memory from how often she’s on her computer and ignoring her brother,” Clint stated, because despite the fact he thought Penelope god awful Parker was hot as all Hell, he knew how much it hurt to have the person who was supposed to care for you most ignore you completely.

Rhodey hummed in agreement, “Maybe we should off her, just in case. I bet she gets some sort of welfare from the state for him and she shouldn’t get to keep raking that in.”

“She shouldn’t get it even while she’s got him,” Natasha stated from over her wine, spread out and lounging on the loveseat closest to the couch, “probably uses it for drugs. It definitely isn’t used for groceries to feed to the poor kid, he looks half starved.”

“Nah, that’s just teenage boy syndrome,” Bucky added a couple of bills to the pot on the coffee table, “Not that I think she’s winning any care taker of the year awards, but I’ve seen that him eat while doing surveillance. Kid could take down a whole ass McDonalds by himself if given the chance.”

“He’s been putting on some weight actually,” Tony felt the corners of his lips tip up in a small smirk, “Muscle mass, one of his friends started dragging him to lift weights on Thursdays.”

“Careful Stark, you get too excited by the thought and you’re gonna pop off in your jeans,” a round of snorts sounded at Rhodey’s words and Tony Stark, Who Did Not Roll His Eyes, gave his friend the finger.

“I say we just go ahead and kill her,” Bruce was focused more on his laptop and the reports there in than the movie, but made sure he always paid attention to the conversation during movie nights, “she’s a liability. It might help Peter adjust too, knowing that she’s gone.”

“And that he has nothing left and nothing to go back to,” Clint added, not mean spiritedly but pointedly and with an exaggerated head tilt.

“He won’t have anything left or anything to go back to,” it was pragmatic and a bit cold, but Steve never pulled his punches, “its best to cut all ties. The more he relies on Tony, the faster he’ll adapt to his new situation. Maybe its manipulative, but this is a weird situation and we might have to get our hands dirty to get him to a good place, mentally and physically.”

“By weird you mean kidnapping a kid?”

“For his own good!”

“Its only kidnapping until he turns eighteen, right?”

“I don’t think that’s how the concept of kidnapping works, Clint.”

“Excuse me, sir,” JARVIS suddenly interrupted, turning on the lights and turning off the movie, “I believe it is important that you watch the webcam footage I’ve been monitoring. The recording begins as of five minutes ago and is still ongoing.”

“Pull it up, J,” Tony ordered quickly, sitting forward on the couch.

Everyone in the room watched in confusion as the TV began to roll on Peter and stupid fucking Penelope sitting in front of the laptop, most likely at the kitchen table. Peter was slightly off to the side, the computer centered more on his sister.

“Penny, please just tell me what you’ve decided on? I’ve been watching you lose your mind for weeks, I know you came up with something last night.”

“You’re… not going to like it Peter,” fucking Penelope’s voice was soft, the laptop microphone too shitty to pick up the quiet cadence well, “If you can think of something better, we’ll go with that. But… I don’t think there’s another choice. I’ve gone through everything I can think of. Try to let me get through this without yelling at me, okay?”

They’d never really seen Peter and fucking Penelope interact before. Most of the time it was just her, on the laptop, all the fucking time. Peter came and went in the background, to and from school and clubs and his friend’s houses, but most of the time she closed the laptop when he was around. They were all a bit surprised by how much affection was in her expression as she looked at her brother. Peter nodded at her, lips already pursed in frustration.

“I’ve been doing as much research as I can on Tony Stark. He’s… God, he’s got more influence than the fucking president. There are entire states in his pocket, Pete. Can you believe that? From what I can figure out, he’s got just about every New York senator on his payroll and don’t even get me started on the police—”

“How’d she figure that out?” Rhodey’s frown was a mixture of concern and irritation, “There’s never been any sort of reporting on your dealings with politicians.”

“I don’t know.”

“The good news is, I don’t think he has any business in Oregon. I’ve looked through as much of the gossip as I can, he’s never spent any significant amount of time there and if I’ve been understanding the weird ass insinuations correctly, his businesses don’t operate in the area.”

“Oregon? Are we gonna go there?” Peter reached out and grabbed his sister’s hands, “I promise, I’m not upset over us having to move Penny, I—”

“Peter, I’m… I’m not moving babe, you are.”

The teenager seemed to draw back slightly, his eyebrows furrowing and his mouth dropping open as he searched for words but was unable to come up with any.

“I don’t think you remember them, the last time we saw them was before mom and dad died, but we have second cousins in Oregon, Paul and Olivia. They’re about ten years older than me, with one kid. When I got custody of you, I contacted them. I wanted to make sure that if something happened to me, I had a sure thing lined up for you. It was years ago, but they promised they’d take you in a heartbeat if I couldn’t care for you anymore, for any reason.”

“You… you wanted to give me to them?” Peter’s eyes were full of tears and they watched as Penelope reacted in horror.

“Peter, no! Never! I would never willingly let you go. I was worried, everyone around us was dropping like flies in freak accidents and I couldn’t let you go into foster care if I died. I just wanted to make sure you would have someone if something happened to me.”

“You thought you were gonna die?”

“My birth father died, and then mom and dad died, then uncle Ben, then aunt May. I didn’t want to leave you alone with no one. I didn’t think I was gonna die, I just… wanted to be prepared. Just in case.”

“Why are you bringing them up? And Oregon? What do you mean that I’m moving? Alone?”

Penelope What the Fuck is Happening Parker’s lips pursed, eyes filling with tears. There was a level of sheer pain on her face that was startling for them all to see, especially considering they’d managed to work her up as an unfeeling monster in their heads for fucking weeks now.

“I’ve tried a thousand ways for us both to go, but I just… I don’t have the money saved for us to move. We’d have to break the lease and even if we left with the clothes on our backs, we wouldn’t be able to afford getting to Oregon. The car won’t make it, I can’t afford plane tickets. I wouldn’t be able to afford to get to Oregon. But I’ve figured out a way to get you there.”

“How Penny?” Peter’s was obviously trying to sound stern, but his voice cracked slightly.

“Not tomorrow, but the day after, we’re going to put in an anonymous call to Child Protective Services and claim that I’m abusing you. Neglecting you. They’ll take you out of my custody and send you to Olivia and Paul, since they’re our ‘closest’ living relatives.” Penelope Oh Fuck Parker’s voice was cracking too, tears running down her face as she explained her batshit crazy plan to her baby brother, who they were quickly realizing was far from neglected or abused.

Tony felt his chest tightening at the sight of the siblings, both with tears streaming down their cheeks. He wasn’t sure how he’d managed to get it so incredibly wrong. Maybe he’d seen what he wanted to see, that his baby boy was easy pickings. That no one really cared for him so it would be easy to sweep him off his feet and spirit him away.

“You’ve never abused me! You’ve never neglected me! How could you even say that, Penny!? Everything you’ve ever done—”

“Peter please, listen,” Penny was nearly sobbing, grasping Peter’s hands tightly with her entire body angled downwards over them, “We have to pretend, okay? We have to pretend because they’ll send you somewhere safe.”

“You’ll go to jail!”

“That’s fine! That’s okay, Peter! As long as you’re safe, I don’t care—”

“You can’t ask me to do this, you can’t ask me to send you to jail, to send you away when you haven’t done anything wrong, ever! I wouldn’t even be able to visit you! I’d be a million miles away and you’d be rotting away in jail because I was too stupid to mind my own business!”

“Peter none of this is your fault,” the tone was so stern and determined as Penny sat straighter in her chair, squeezing her brother’s hands reassuringly even as her chest heaved with grief, “it’s that fucking pedophile, piece of shit Tony Goddamn Stark’s fault, don’t you ever think that you are at all to blame for any of this—”

“I probably deserve at least half of that rage,” Tony stated absently, almost guilty at the word ‘pedophile’.

“Half? Hah!” It was an absent response, more instinct than intention but got the point across even as the entire group was absorbed by the pain playing out on the TV.

“I went to that stupid tower!” Peter wailed suddenly, making Penny go stiff, “After you got that note telling you not to report the assault, I went to the tower because I knew he worked there and I wanted him to suffer. You wouldn’t go to the police because they threatened your family but I thought… It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I was stupid and I went to fucking Stark Tower and that’s where he saw me. It’s all my fault.” Peter’s sobbing was viscerally painful to hear, even through the shitty microphone.

“What assault? A note? JARVIS, figure out what he’s talking about!” Tony barked, already on his feet and pulling out his phone, “Give me the surveillance footage from that day, who was my boy here looking for?!”

“As the conversation is roughly five minutes delayed, I took the liberty of deciphering Mr. Parker’s statements already, sir,” the AI stated calmly, “six months ago, Mr. Brock Rumlow of level six security sexually assaulted Ms. Penelope Parker in a club in Queens. In order to prevent any bad press upon the company, a persuasive letter was sent from the Tower’s security to Ms. Parker to ensure her silence on the matter. I assume the day you came across Mr. Parker was the day he arrived to confront Mr. Rumlow over the assault and threat.”

“Find him,” Tony snarled towards Rhodey, who was already on his feet and typing away at his phone, heading towards the elevator, “Alive, Rhodey!”

“I’ll see what I can manage,” the man muttered darkly as the doors shut and he began descending towards level six, leaving the rest of them in the living room.

“He… he saw you… there? Oh, god… Oh god he saw you because you went to the tower, oh my God you went there because of me and he saw you— Oh my God!” Penny’s reaction was so emotionally brutal that it verged on physically violent. Her entire body seemed to lock up for a solid thirty seconds before she threw herself out of the chair and they could hear retching in the background a moment later. Peter was still sitting on the far side of the screen, sobbing into his hands.

Almost five minutes later, Penny ambled back into view. Her face was so pale compared to her usually tan complexion that she looked like a ghost. A fine tremble ran through her entire body, goosebumps visible on her exposed arms.

“I’m so sorry,” Peter’s voice broke through his sobs, bone achingly sad, “I’m so sorry I did this to us.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, bud,” Penny’s eyes were almost blank, the pain so overwhelming that she couldn’t force any other expression, “I set all of this in motion. I made a mistake and I’m so sorry you’re having to pay for it. I should’ve protected you better, you never should’ve even known what happened, let alone who— it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. Everything is going to be okay Peter. We have a plan and everything is going to be alright.”

“You’re going to go to jail, Penny! For a horrible crime that you’d never, ever commit! Because I was stupid and immature and—”

“Stop Peter,” Tony’s eyes watered as Penny gently ran her fingers through Peter’s hair and left it to rest on his cheek, “don’t blame yourself for this. No matter what you did, no matter what choices you made, you didn’t deserve to be frightened and stalked. What’s happening is happening because there’s a man out there with a sick mind, who thinks he can take whatever and whoever he wants for whatever he wants. That’s not on you, babe. That’s on him. And everyone who built him up and let him get to this point.”

She let Peter cry for several minutes and the group in the living room found themselves left to digest the situation to the sound of his sobs. Discomfort ran through all of them, for different reasons. Because they’d judged Penelope Too Good for This World Parker so wrong. Because they were the ones enabling Tony to do something terrible. Because they didn’t actually feel guilty for enabling Tony but they did feel guilty for the pain it was causing the Parker siblings.

“You’ll take such good care of him, Tony,” Natasha said quietly after a moment, seeing the pain in the man’s face, “He’s never going to want for anything ever again. He’s going to live in comfort and luxury for the rest of his life and that’s because of you.”

“He’s scared right now, Tones,” Clint jumped in quickly when it looked like Tony might protest, “They both are and we can’t blame them for that. But once they’re—he’s here, he’ll realize that it’s not a bad thing and that he has nothing to be afraid of. That we’re going to take care of them—him, all of us.”

Mind running at a million times per hour, Tony considered their words. Actually, he considered Clint’s words. Clint’s misspoken statements that implied both Parker siblings would be in the tower. Both of them would be safe and cared for. Both.

“They’ll never want for anything ever again,” Tony repeated quietly, all eyes in the room locked carefully on him, “Peter and Penny shouldn’t be separated.”

“You’ve given up everything for me, Penny,” Peter whispered after his cries calmed, “You dropped out of high school, dropped out of college, started working three jobs so I could go to that stupid school, you don’t sleep, you hardly eat, and I know it’s all for me. I can’t let you give up your freedom, I can’t let you give up anything else for me.”

“Oh my God no wonder she’s so skinny,” Wanda suddenly gasped, tears pouring down her cheeks in continuous rivers, “we thought Peter was skinny, but look at her, look at her collar bones! JARVIS, give me a record of all credit and debit card transactions she’s made in the last month and—” The redhead cut herself off when Penny began speaking again.

“All I want is for you to be happy Peter,” Penny whispered, the blank look in her eyes fading into grief again, “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy. You’re everything to me, you’re my baby brother. I’ll do anything to keep you safe, bud, anything.”

“I won’t do it, Penny, I won’t—”

“Yes, you will, Peter,” resolve hardened Penny’s voice and she squeezed her brother’s hands, “You’re going to do as I say. Tomorrow you’re going to go to school and I’m going to call out of work. I’m going to throw most of your clothes away, all of the food in the house. I’m going to switch my stuff for yours, so it looks like I make you sleep on the couch while I take the bedroom.”

“Oh God she does sleep on the couch every night,” Professional Perfect Person Penelope Parker Stalker Clint Barton gasped in horror as he recalled his earlier comment on her sleeping habits and her undressing habits oh no.

“I’m going to trash the place as authentically as I can and I’m… God I’m going to destroy some of your stuff, Pete,” Penny looked pained at the thought, scraping a hand down her face, “But I’m going to transfer all of my savings into your name, so you’ll only be without your stuff for a little while. You can rebuy everything you need once this is over.”

“I can’t take your money, Pen—”

“Hush Peter. I don’t have much saved up, but I’ll put it under your name tomorrow. Now, when I turn 25 in a few months I’ll be able to use my portion of the money mom and dad left us. I’m going to transfer that to you as soon as I can, it should be enough for you to live off of once you turn 18 as long as you use it wisely.”

“Penny, please, you can’t expect—”

“I expect you to do as I say, Peter!” She cut him off with all the flare of a bossy big sister, “I want you to apply to universities outside of the United States. Focus on places like Norway, Australia and New Zealand. Avoid Mexico, Canada and the UK because I think he has business dealings in those countries and I don’t know how long he’ll be willing to search for you, so don’t risk it.”

“How does she know about our business in those places?” Tony threw his hands up in confusion.

“Sir, from what I can gather from Ms. Parker’s search history, she has done her best to track yours and your staff’s movements around the world for the last five or so years by means of social media and gossip blogs—”

“Well holy fuck, who would’ve thought to do that?” Sam’s eyebrows were raised nearly to his hairline, “that’s ridiculous, no wonder she was on the laptop constantly.”

“Once you turn 25 you’ll come into your inheritance too. By that time I’ll probably be out of jail but… Peter I want you to leave me alone, okay? We don’t know… we don’t know if Stark will let this go, if he loses you. He might use my location and contacts to find you and I can’t let that happen.”

“You want me to just cut you out of my life forever? Like you’re some horrible monster I never want to see again? I can’t—”

“We don’t have a choice bud,” Penny was quiet, soothing as she ran her fingers over his wrists and hands, “Tony Stark is a dangerous man and he has more connections and money than we could ever hope to fight. The police won’t help us, the law won’t help us. All we have is this plan and I need you to follow it. I need to be able to trust that you’ll follow the plan, so that you’ll be safe.”

“What about you, Penny!? You won’t be safe! You’re always so worried about, about me being safe and happy that you forget about yourself! Do you understand that you’re telling me you want to go to jail? That you want me to abandon you forever?”

Penny seemed to waiver for just a second, as if she might actually let some tiny ounce of selfishness set in and change her mind, before her resolve hardened once again and she stood, putting herself nearly out of frame, “This is happening, Peter. This is the plan. This is what we’re doing. Because I won’t let him hurt you. I will literally do anything to keep you safe Peter, this doesn’t even make a wave in the pool of batshit crazy I’m willing to go if I need to. I love you. Now go to bed, you have school in the morning.”

#steve rogers x oc x bucky barnes #steve rogers x oc #bucky barnes x oc #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #dark!tony stark #dark!mcu #let's review #let's review chapter 2

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

A Valentine’s Day to Forget - Harry Styles One Shot

Normally, you weren’t a huge fan of Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t because you had been single for most of your adult life, but because you thought if you truly loved someone you should want to show them/tell them/do something nice for them any day of the week, month, or year and not just a specific day that everyone was going to be doing the same. 

However, ever since you’ve been in a relationship with your current boyfriend for almost two years, you’ve enjoyed spending Valentine’s Day together. The past two Valentine’s Day dates had been simple ones. The first one you two had only been dating for a few weeks prior, so you two had done a nice dinner out before heading back to his place for ice cream and a movie. That was almost the night he officially asked you to be his girlfriend. 

The next year, you and Harry had decided on a night in, eating Chinese food and watching Rom Coms the entire night while you cuddled on the couch. For this year, you had suggested maybe doing something a little more formal. You had tried talking with Harry about ideas, but he said he would have everything taken care of. He wanted the night to be special and a surprise. 

Part of you wondered if he had something up his sleeve, perhaps a marriage proposal, but you shook that thought out of your mind. One neither of you had really brought up the topic of marriage and two, you really hoped he wouldn’t ask on a day like Valentine’s Day. But anyway, you were currently getting ready for your big date with Harry. 

You had purchased the most gorgeous blood red velvet floor lengthen dress that fit you perfectly. Again you weren’t sure about the color red because it was known for every one to wear a shade of red on Valentine’s Day, but you fell in love with it as soon as you put on it. You paired it with a simple diamond necklace Harry had bought you on your first anniversary and a pair of diamond stud earrings he had bought for your birthday. 

You found a thick sliver heels in your closet and slipped your feet into them. You  also picked out a black coat to wear and one of your small handbags to put your things in. You still had no idea what Harry had in store for your date night, but you do remember him saying he would be there to pick you by seven. 

While it was technically the night before Valentine’s Day, you both had agreed on going out before the actual day and then maybe doing something simple on the night of, so that way you weren’t stuck with the huge crowd of people. Once you were all ready to go, you did a double check in the mirror. You were a bundle of excitement and you weren’t sure why. It was amazing that you still felt like this whenever you were with him or going out with him. 

When you were satisfied with your look, you grabbed your coat and bag before heading down to the living room to wait for Harry. You weren’t sure if he would need to freshen up or change before leaving, so you poured yourself a glass of wine to sip on while you waited for him to arrive. Six forty-five rolled around and you still hadn’t heard from him. Now, that you thought about it, you hadn’t really heard from him all day. 

You knew he was going in for some meetings regarding the tour and rehearsing for his upcoming Brit’s performance, but surely he would have checked in at last once. When six forty-five turned into seven thirty, you probably should have been more worried than you were. You also probably should have sent him a text or phoned him to see if everything was okay. 

However, during your wait you had gotten infested in the Law and Order SVU marathon that was on and a few glasses of wine. It wasn’t until you started feeling a little tipsy that you realized just how late it had gotten. It was well after nine o’clock and you had yet to hear from Harry. You grabbed your phone, double checking for any missed calls or texts. 

Nothing. 

You were really starting to worry now wondering where he could be. It was never like him to be over two hours later without letting you know. You called him first, but it ended up going to voicemail. You sighed typing a quick little message and pressing send. 

Hey, Babe, Just checking in to see where you are. It’s a bit late and I’m worried.

Twenty minutes pass and there’s still no response, so you try again. 

Still no answer. Just a voicemail. 

So, you try your next option. You text Mitch and Adam, who you knew would have been at the rehearsals to see if they knew where Harry might be. It only took about ten minutes before Adam responded. 

Pretty sure Harry, Mitch, Sarah, and a few others went out to grab dinner and some drinks.

Your mouth opened in shock as you read the text from Adam. Not only were you shocked in knowing Harry’s whereabouts, but also that you didn’t drop or throw your phone after finding out. Going out for dinner and drinks with his band was something he did quite often when it came to being at the studio or rehearsals, especially when they ran late. But the fact that he went that night, when you two were supposed to have a special night out, that he was supposed to plan, really hurt you. 

It also pissed you the hell off. You weren’t sure when Harry would finally decide to make his presence home, so you went upstairs taking off the dress you had been so excited to wear, but would now only hold the memory of the night your boyfriend forgot about you. You put on sweats and a large t shirt before going into the bathroom and wiping off the makeup you had spent quite a bit of time to apply. 

And finally you pulled up the hair that you had perfectly curled up into a messy bun. You really wanted to climb into bed and forget about this whole thing, but you knew with the amount of wine you had that night, you needed to put something in your stomach. Of course, due to your annoyance level, you really weren’t that hungry, but your body would hate you in the morning if you for went eating dinner. 

By the time you went to the kitchen, grabbed things out to make a quick sandwich, you heard the front door unlock. 

Well. Well. Well, look finally decided to show the fuck up you thought. 

While you were spreading the hummus onto your slice of bread, Harry walked through the door. 

“Hey, baby, I’m home,” he said. “So sorry It’s late. The mates and I went out for drinks.”

No shit. You rolled your eyes. 

“Baby?” Harry said walking into the kitchen. “Oh, there you are. Hm. That looks delicious, can you make me one?” 

You really wanted to tell him off right then and there, but you bit your tongue and continued to ignore him. 

“Or not,” he said when you started putting everything up. “Look, I’m sorry, I didn't call or respond to your texts. My phone died and I didn’t realize you had called me until I plugged my phone into the car.” 

You poured yourself some water into a glass before picking up your plate and going into the living room. You sat yourself down on the couch and picked up where you left off on the marathon, turning up the volume. Harry sighed, it was obvious that you were upset with him, but he didn’t really understand why. 

Yes, he should have called you to let you know where he was, but he went out to dinner after rehearsals all the time, so he didn’t really see what the problem was. He decided to give you some space while you ate your sandwich and he went to the bedroom to change out of his t shirt and trousers and into something more comfortable. 

It wasn’t until he went into the bathroom when he saw all of the discarded makeup wipes in the trash bin that he realized something wasn’t quite right. He went back into bedroom and saw your coat and handbag laying on the chair. 

Did you go somewhere tonight? He thought to himself. 

He went back into the living room where you were still on the couch. You were curled up in a blanket and the empty plate was on the coffee table in front of you. 

“So, what did you do tonight?” He asked sitting next to you. 

You moved away from him to the other side of the couch and he sighed. 

“Y/N, please talk to me,” he pleaded. “If I fucked up, just tell me so I can make it right.” 

You glared at him, “The fact that you don’t even know that you did fuck up tonight is the real problem.” 

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t call. I didn’t think I’d be out that late,” he said. 

“I don’t give a shit about that Harry!” You snapped. “Okay, maybe I do a little bit, but the real issue is something else entirely.” 

“Like what?” He sighed. 

“Like I don’t know this super special date that you were supposed to be planning for us? You know the one that we had talked about a few weeks ago and you said that you had everything under control. But no, apparently you fucking forgot because you went out with your mates while I sat here all dressed up with nowhere to go,” you snapped. “I sat here drinking an entire bottle of wine because my own boyfriend stood me the fuck up on Valentine’s Day! So, yeah, you did fuck up and I don’t know which is worse the fact that you stood me up or the fact that you didn’t know that you stood me up!” 

Before Harry could answer you threw the blanket off of you and went into the bedroom, slamming the door behind you. 

The second Harry heard the door slam he knew there was no resolving this tonight. He couldn’t believe he forgot about the date, that he forgot about Valentine’s Day in general. His schedule was super busy at the moment, not that it was an excuse, but it was. He never even made plans for the date. He had written ideas down, but he never called to make them happen. 

Fuck, he really fucked up. Now, the makeup wipes in the trash bin made sense. You had gotten ready and then took everything off before he got home. God, he felt miserable. He felt horrible, knowing that he hurt you. He knew he needed to fix this, but he wasn’t sure how. He could stay up all night planning the perfect date for tomorrow, but he knew it wouldn’t make things right. 

He knew it was late, but there was only one person he could go to for advice, so he grabbed his phone and called his mother. 

**

When you woke up the next morning, you were alone in your bed. At first you were confused, but then the previous nights events flooded back into your memory. You got out of bed and went into the bathroom. Harry must have slept in the guest bedroom, which you were a little annoyed that he didn’t even try to make things right. But it was a new day and his ass better be groveling or else it would be another night spent in the guest room. 

You opened the door walking out to the smell of cinnamon and powdered sugar filling the air. You rolled your eyes at the thought he was trying to make this right by make you breakfast. Weak! Anyway, you made your way into the kitchen to see Harry making french toast with a cheesy little pink and red, heart apron. Three huge Bouquets of Roses of a red, pink, and white were sat on top of the bar. 

Now you were smelling the roses and the french toast. You weren’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. When Harry noticed you, he gave a small smile. 

“Morning,” he said. 

You nodded, “Morning.” 

“I uh. I made breakfast,” he said pointing to the spread in front of him. “I tried making them in heart shapes, but honestly they look a bit more like an ass.” 

Oh my god, someone never let this man cook again, you thought. 

“Um, thank you, I guess,” you said walking over to the cabinet to get two glasses to pour some drinks into. 

Harry carried two plates over to the kitchen where yet another huge ass bouquet of roses sat. 

“Did you buy out an entire flower shop?” You asked sitting down. 

“Uh, no,” he laughed awkwardly. 

“Hm,” you said sitting down and pouring syrup onto your toast and taking a bite. 

Neither of you had said anything until finally Harry couldn't’ take the silence anymore. 

“Y/N, baby,” he sighed. “I’m sorry about last night. I know that does change what happened or make things better, but I need you to know I am sorry. I did forget to make plans for us, and I can’t believe that I did that. It’s just with the tour coming up and this single getting ready to drop and filming and all this other shit, it just really fell through the cracks. I know it’s no excuse and I never should have let myself forget about a night about you.” 

Next thing you know it pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, “Now, I know this won’t change what happened, but I did have all this amazing ideas for our date night. I just... forgot to actually make them happen. I did put a lot of thought into this, I just didn’t execute it. I want to make this up to you, I really, really do, we don’t have to do it tonight, but I want to do all of these things with you if you’ll give me the chance.” 

You looked over at him before taking the piece of paper and looking over it. There were a lot of great ideas and things you two had talked about doing before. 

“All of these would have been great, had you remembered last night,” you mumbled. 

Harry sighed looking down at his plate. 

“And I understand that you’ve been under a lot of stress and work has been crazy, but you’re about to go on tour for basically the rest of the year. I’m only going to see you for a few weeks at a time throughout, so I thought maybe you’d want to spend as much time with me as you could before then,” you whispered. 

Harry took your hand, “And I do. Of course, I do. You’re my girlfriend and I love you. I want nothing more than to spend time with you.” 

“But not last night,” you said. “Harry it’s not just that you forgot to plan this special date, it’s the fact that you just plain forgot. Had you come home after rehearsal last night and didn’t even mention going out, I would have been a little disappointed, but at least we would have been together. It wasn’t just about going out for Valentine’s Day, it was about spending time with one another.” 

“I know, I know,” he whispered. “God, I want to make this right. I hate seeing you upset and I hate being the cause of it. Please, tell me how to make this right.” 

You sighed looking over at him, “Next time, choose me,” you whispered before getting up and taking your plate into the kitchen before going back into the bedroom, leaving Harry at the table with his thoughts. 

**

First Valentine’s Day One Shot! Thoughts??? 

#One Direction Imagines #Harry Styles Imagines #Harry Styles One Shots

[98prilla]

Hidden Shapes

Previous

AO3

...

“Maybe I should-“

 “No. You shouldn’t.” Remus cuts off Roman’s sentence before he even finishes, watching him pace from his spot upside down on the couch, Janus watching with equal amusement, Logan with a hint of concern.

 “But-“

 “Roman. They will be fine. Tabitha loves him like her own, she would never in a million years allow anything to endanger Virgil, and by extension, Patton, since he is with him.”

 “why did I not know that? That my nemesis has practically adopted Virgil?”

 “Because he never told you. He never told any of us, it is personal information, Roman, why would you have known?” Logan asks, trying to decipher what Roman is upset about.

 “Because we’re supposed to be his friends! His family! And there’s a whole other half of his life that I know absolutely nothing about and it’s fine, if he doesn’t want to tell me about it, but I never even asked! So what kind of friend, does that make me?” He asks, miserably flopping into a chair, rubbing his face.

 “I wouldn’t. If you’d asked, I wouldn’t have told you much of anything, if that helps.” He jolts back upright, at Virgil’s so soft voice, not having heard him and Patton rise up. “It’s… still a little hard, to talk about.” His gaze flickers to Janus and Remus, something a bit sad, a bit pained, a bit angry, there, before flicking away to the floor.

“Virgil I-“

 “It’s fine, Jan, really. Not like you meant to, and it… worked out, anyway.” He waves away Janus’s concern, shooting him a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just glad you’re okay, too. You’d think the embodiment of self preservation would have a little more of it.”

 “He’s got ya there, Jannie.”

 “Oh, hush, no one asked you.” He scowls, playfully swatting Remus’s arm, who retaliates by draping himself across the entire couch, his head in Janus’s lap.

 “Perish the thought of me, speaking out of turn. Surely now I deserve some punishment.” He waggles his eyebrows, licking his lips suggestively, grinning as Janus rolls his eyes and Virgil snorts.

 “How are you doing, Virgil?” Logan asks, and he shrugs, flipping up his hood, missing the concerned exchange of glances that follows the action. Everyone knows that hood up means extra anxious.

 “Better, I guess. Not… as scared, I suppose. But, um, it’s been kind of a long day, so I’m gonna go unwind for a bit. You know where to find me, if you need me.” With that and his little salute, Virgil is gone, sunk out to his room.

 “So, how is he doing, Pat?” Roman asks, looking up at Patton, who’s fiddling with his cat paws.

 “He’s… having a hard time.” He meets Janus’s eyes, who nods minutely, absently running his hand through Remus’s hair, much to his vibrating delight.

 “I’ll speak to him, once he’s had some time. I’m… not surprised.”

…

He’s lying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. One arm is flung behind him, over his head, the other holding a pillow across his chest. He’s not really sad, or upset, just… numb.

 He’s dwelling, he knows he is, but he can’t stop, thinking about his conversation with Patton. He knows, Patton really believes it’ll work this time, everything’ll be fine. But all the same problems are still there, all the same dynamics, just waiting to implode. Everyone’s trying, everyone’s listening more, but still.

 Still, he’s always been the one caught in the middle. And now… he has so much more to lose.

 Janus and Remus were his first family, they’re the ones that looked after him, that spent time easing his fears, that he tussled with, fought with, explored with, Janus is the one he turned to after nightmares or during panic attacks, Remus was the one who broke through his bad days and forced him to do something, anything, even if it was fighting him tooth and claw for some time alone. And as angry as he was, at them, as much as they hurt him, he still… missed them.

 Things weren’t better, or smoother, at first, with the light sides, either, but Patton was always accepting, always trying to understand, and help, and support him. Logan always talks him down from his fears, walks him through his cognitive distortions, counts out his breathing. Roman and him bicker and fight, but it’s not mean spirited, anymore, it’s more out of habit, for fun, and they’re both careful not to cross any lines, Roman whisking him away to the imagination to relax, when he can tell he’s super stressed, or just sitting quietly with him, humming.

 He rolls over onto his side, hugging the pillow with all his might, face pressed into it. He doesn’t want to lose Janus and Remus again. He doesn’t want to leave Patton, Logan and Roman. He can’t choose, he can’t, it rips him in half, just thinking about it, it tears him apart, and he can’t do it again, he’ll just linger in no man’s land in the mind, wishing for both and belonging to neither, until Thomas’s brain makes the choice for him, but it won’t matter because he’ll be changed, part of him missing, either way.

 He doesn’t move at the soft knock on his door, just curls tighter into his pillow, letting it absorb the silent tears tracking down his face, as he hears the door crack open.

 “Vee? May I come in?” Janus, and he doesn’t reply, knowing that will be all the permission the scaled side needs, proven correct at the sound of soft footsteps across the floor, a soft breath, upon seeing him, the soft resettling of the mattress, as he sits down on the edge. Janus doesn’t say anything more, either, just rests a hand on his leg, to remind him he’s there, and waits.

 “I wish I still hated you. I wish I was still so hurt by what you did, that I could have that rage back, that determination to hurt you just as badly as you’d hurt me, the pure anger shoving me onwards, until I didn’t remember we’d ever had anything else. It would be so much easier, if I could just still hate you, instead of forgive you, because it still hurts, so much of it still hurts, but I get it. I just… I don’t…”

 “Shh, slow down, shadowling. What’s this all about?” He uncurls a bit at that, enough his eyes are peeking out from the pillow, and Janus can see the tear streaks.

 “it’s all going to fall apart. I-it’s going to fall apart and I don’t think I can do it again, Jan, no matter which side I end up on. I can’t get shoved back into the dark, I can’t, not after being here for so long, I won’t be able to handle it, it’ll tear me apart, but if I stay on this side, I’ll be losing you and Ree all over again, and either way I lose, and I’m so sick of losing. I wish it would just happen already, so it could be over, and at least then I’d know how my heart would shatter, instead of anticipating it at every second. At least then I’d be broken for… for a reason, instead of because of some stupid thoughts about stuff that hasn’t even happened yet!”

 “It won’t-“

 “Don’t. Don’t lie to me, Jan.”

 “Alright. Tell me, why are you so sure, that this is inevitable?” Janus asks softly, rubbing circles against his leg.

 “because it always does.” He sighs, shifting to lay down, spooning Virgil from behind. “the peace never lasts. It’s only a matter of time, and it wasn’t on purpose, the first time, so why would it be any different now? Every argument or disagreement or discussion, it’s going to happen and I’m so sick of waiting for it to happen.”

 “It won’t. Look at me, Vee, it won’t. I’m not lying. I will not let it happen again, Thomas won’t let it happen again, we’ve all grown and changed and we all know better, now. We know that only hurt everything, it didn’t fix anything, it just made it all worse. We are never going back to that. I swear it. I know it’s not that easy, to make yourself believe it, but it’s true. Just let yourself remember that, ok? No matter what, it’s true.” He’s only half surprised when Virgil rolls over, curling into his chest, clinging to his shirt and crying. He brings his arms around him, holding him close, running a hand up and down his back. “it’s alright, shadowling. It’s alright.” He murmurs, and for once, Virgil almost finds it in himself to believe it.

#sanders sides #tss #virgil sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #sympathetic virgil #sympathetic janus #sympathetic remus #sympathetic logan #sympathetic roman #sympathetic patton #angst #fluff #anxiety #hurt/comfort

[elisaphoenix13]

Papa Bear Mode

Valerie had two stuffed animals she absolutely had to have with her at all times. One was the teddy bear that Peter got when he was turned into a baby for a third time, and passed it down to her. The other was a little stuffed cow that Harley won for her at the state fair. The teddy bear was almost as big as her so she slept against it a lot, but the cow was smaller and much easier to carry around.

At the moment, the toddler was cocooned in a large blanket with her cow in her arms and her teddy bear next to her, and lying on the couch with her head on one of Stephen's legs. When the sorcerer went into her room to wake her for the day, she had whined miserably and Stephen soon discovered the fever she was running. So he took her down to the kitchen to give her something to eat that would be easy on her stomach, gave her some medicine, and then bundled her up on the couch. He put on her favorite cartoon and she promptly laid her head in his lap and stuck her thumb in her mouth.

Athena saw the sick baby in her master's lap, so instead of nudging the little girl so she can have some space in Stephen's lap, the wolf laid at the doctor's feet. That was how most of the morning was spent. At one point, the alarms went off for some kind of Avenger level emergency, and it had startled Valerie out of her light doze so badly that she cried. Stephen stayed behind to soothe her and because someone needed to be home to look after the baby anyway.

Stephen eventually took to gently petting his youngest daughter's hair as he read his book and tuned out the cartoons playing on the tv, but that was cut short when the Avengers got back from their fight. Harley was looking a little sheepish and Stephen soon found out why when Bucky stepped into view.

The man was covered in glitter. From head to toe.

Stephen immediately points in the direction of the elevator. "Get off of my floor with that abominable stuff on you."

"It was Harley." The soldier says after spitting out a few flecks of glitter.

After Bucky carefully shuffles back to the elevator, the sorcerer wrinkles his nose at the small trails and spots of sparkly dust left behind on the carpet. "Harley--"

"Dad asked me to distract the enemy!" Harley immediately defends and Tony pinches the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh.

"I didn't expect you to use a glitter bomb! How did you manage to sneak that into your suit anyway?"

The rest of the Avengers roll their eyes and walk into the kitchen to raid the fridge for a well-deserved snack, and Natasha walks back into the living room with a bag of baby carrots and some ranch. She sits in front of Valerie on the floor after gently cooing to the baby in Russian, and everyone else either files in to suffer through Valerie's cartoons or remain in the kitchen to have their own conversations. Sam was one of the few that braved the living room, and according to him, Bucky was in firing range of the glitter bomb, so not only had Harley showered the enemy in endless amounts of glitter, but poor Bucky had been caught in the crossfire. That man would be shaking glitter off for the next month.

The upside was that it successfully distracted the enemy. What villain expected a glitter bomb in the middle of a fight?

Stephen sighs. "I don't care if you use glitter bombs in battle...just as long as you don't hit anyone else that can bring it home!" He emphasizes.

"It was an accident!" Harley defends again with a huff.

"Clean the carpet." Stephen orders and the teen groans as he walks away in search of the vacuum cleaner.

Like that would really help.

Tibbs wanders out of Peter's bedroom and down to the living room, jumping over Athena so he can get to the part of the couch Valerie is taking up. He stands in his hind legs, holding himself up with his front paws on the couch and meows curiously at the two year old on the couch. Valerie pries her thumb out of her mouth to reach out and pet the feline, and Tibbs purrs happily just before hopping up onto the couch to lay next to the sick toddler. When Valerie doesn't protest her new companion, Stephen returns his attention to his book.

About half an hour later, Scott and Quill step onto the family floor, each holding one of the twins, and both toddlers looking miserable. Stephen smiles gently and sets up a little nest of blankets and pillows with Natasha's help on the floor after Sam moves the coffee table, and the twins are gently laid on the floor. Valerie willingly moves to join Hunter and Hailey, and both Athena and Tibbs curl up with her as Scott and Quill collapse on the couch where Valerie had previously been.

"Have you given them any medicine?" Stephen asks quietly.

"I couldn't find any." Scott answers and the sorcerer nods and disappears into the kitchen.

"The poor babies." Natasha croons. "Something must be going around."

Stephen walks in with a bottle of medicine for the kids and gives each of them a dose so they can try and go to sleep. Valerie was due for another dose anyway, so they took their medicine without much of a fuss and Stephen changed the cartoons into a Disney movie. Hunter whines for Quill quietly ten minutes into the movie, and the celestial sighs before crawling onto the floor and settling next to his son, grumbling softly when Hunter curls as close as possible to him.

"Get some sleep kiddo."

Natasha smiles. "I'm sure they'll sleep if Papa Bear purrs."

"Give me thirty seconds and I will. I just got off my graveyard shift at the station." Quill responds with a yawn.

Stephen chuckles when the god does indeed fall asleep not even thirty seconds later, his purring snores soothing all three kids into at least a light doze.

"Thanks Stephen." Scott rubs his eyes. "They were fine this morning. It hit them pretty hard and fast."

"It's no problem. It will be easier to keep an eye on them when they're all together anyway." Stephen replies.

Harley comes back with the vacuum cleaner and groans again when he sees the three two-year-olds and Quill all sleeping. "What now?!"

Stephen hushes his oldest and cleans up the glitter with some of his magic. "I'll let you off this once since your sister and the twins are sick. Go put the vacuum back."

Harley grumbles under his breath as he tows the vacuum away. Even at nineteen he was causing trouble. He was responsible when it counted, like going to college...and he always babysat one or both of his sister without much of a fuss. If there was any. He still pulled stupid stunts like the glitter bomb and shooting Quill with his potato gun though.

Stephen was still waiting for the celestial to lose his shit and snap Harley's neck. He was convinced the possibility was on the horizon. Then again, that chance could have passed by after the twins were born. Hunter and Hailey were a whole different breed of troll. They were good kids but always seemed to have some sort of mission to make their father's life difficult. Just yesterday, Stephen went down to see if the twins wanted to watch a movie with Valerie, and found Quill passed out on the couch with both kids sitting on his chest and eating poptarts. Scott was quietly tapping away on his laptop in the kitchen and looked up at Stephen with an amused smirk before explaining that Quill had only been awake for an hour before his impromptu nap. Hunter had taken to streaking across the floor and Hailey tried to pour herself some cereal.

When Stephen asked where the younger man was during all of the chaos, Scott laughed and said…

"Asleep."

Thankfully the twins had been cleaned and dressed before the god tapped out. He was covered in crumbs when he woke up though.

Stephen glances up from his book when he sees Levi fluttering around the two year olds and huffs when the cloak finally settles on laying over the three of them. Levi always acted as a bit of a nursemaid whenever the kids were sick. If a child was part of Mama Bear's collection of cubs, the cloak fussed over them just like Stephen did. Keeping the sick kid warm, getting glasses of water, or in the occasional disgusting moment, as a tissue. Stephen always threw Levi in the wash immediately after. He refused to wear the cloak after having snot and mucus rubbed onto it one way or another.

"Mom, Quill's being too loud." Sam jokes and Stephen waves a hand at him lazily.

"Then go find something else to do."

"Hell no. I wanna watch Finding Nemo."

Natasha snickers. "Come on Mom. Make him stop. We can't hear the tv."

Stephen turns a page in his book. "Scott, do something about your husband's snoring."

"No thanks. You can all deal with it. If he moves, Hunter will wake up and whine."

Nat and Sam smirk and stop with their feigned complaining and the rest of the Avengers remaining on the floor join them in the living room. Stephen and Scott stretch out on the couch they're sitting on, both smirking at the dirty look Tony gives them before he smacks Scott's legs down. The younger grumbles as the engineer sits, and sets Stephen's legs back over his lap while Steve, Rhodey, Wanda, and Vision occupy the other couches.

"Mommmmm...Tony hit me!" Scott whines and Stephen rolls his eyes.

"You know, I'm starting to hate the Mama Bear title again."

Valerie stirs underneath Levi and whimpers. "Mama."

Okay, he was starting to hate it to an extent. He still loved hearing his kids call him some form of it, and he immediately answered to his youngest's plea by closing his book and laying next to her on the floor after getting Athena to make room. Tibbs just sprawled out on top of Levi over Hailey, and Athena laid her head on the sorcerer's side once he settled next to Valerie. Usually an entire team/family pile might have happened, but there were sick babies and they didn't want to suffocate them anymore.

Sam was already using his shirt as a makeshift fan. "Damn tic-tac. How do you sleep in the same bed as Quill? I'm a couple feet away and I can feel the heat he gives off!"

Scott shrugs. "Guess I got used to it."

"I'm concerned your kids are going to be turned into puddles."

"They're used to it too. They'll sweat out the fever faster anyway." Scott answers.

Sam starts poking at Quill's back and shoulders, making the celestial grumble in his sleep.

"Is there a button to turn it off or at least turn it down?"

The darker male continues to poke and prod at the god and Scott snickers when Sam pulls his finger away with a hiss. The last place he poked burning with a small white ember.

"I think he burned me!"

"Guess you found the defense mechanism." Stephen jests and everyone snickers.

#mama bear stephen strange #mama bear au #stephen strange #tony stark #ironstrange #harley keener #peter quill #scott lang #antlord #celestial quill #avengers #valerie stark strange (oc) #hunter harris quill (oc) #hailey meredith quill (oc)