#( which seems almost impossible right now but you guys are going to surpass the impossible!! )

[itsamejin]

easy || jungkook angst/fluff

Summary: Date you, win a bet, get his rent paid off. Sounds promising enough, right? Jungkook should’ve known that his ambitions would end in disaster, but even if he did, that still wouldn’t have stopped him from pursuing you.

Warning: cursing, crude humor, fuckboy talk

Genre: college!au, fuckboy!au, bet!trope, angst, fluff

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Premise: In which Jungkook accepts a bet from Taehyung to date the first girl that walks into the lecture hall and realizes that he bit off more than he could chew when starts to catch feelings. Now, he has to suffer the consequences of being an idiot.

Commission Request: @altus-gens​

Word Count: 9,203 words

—

It's not like Jungkook planned to be one of the most sought after person in Yonsei University, but it somehow turned out to be that way. Truthfully, he basks in it, loves that so many people idolize him for doing the bare minimum. He was handsome after all and had a level of charm that surpassed the need to have a good personality. 

He got into such a prestigious school through an athletic scholarship for Taekwondo, managed to convince his professors to pass him when he put in minimal effort, and there was no shortage of girls to call when he was feeling lonely for a night. He was the stereotypical 'it' boy on campus and maybe if he was a little bit smarter, he'd have a better choice of friends than the six idiots he always hangs around with.

"How about this," Taehyung starts, gum in his mouth, "the first girl who walks in, you have to successfully get in her pants."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. They were in a damn lecture hall and yet Taehyung had no shame bringing up sex. Typical.

“This again, bro?” Hoseok sighed. “Aren’t you sick of bribing us to do weird shit for you?”

Taehyung smirked.

“Not at all, actually.”

"For how much?" Namjoon cut in, probably curious for the price point Taehyung would arrange this time. He was fired from his job just a week ago and could really use the money. "I'll do it if it’s enough to pay for my rent this month."

Taehyung scoffs, although knowing full well he could pay for all of the boys’ tuitions combined if he wanted to. He was the resident rich bachelor on campus after all.

"I'll pay it for a full year and your utility bills too if you're really down," Taehyung flaunts. "You just gotta have proof you actually managed to do it."

"Dude that's gross," Seokjin chimes in, "No one wants to send you proof of us doing it with a random girl."

Taehyung shakes his head.

"No, no, no," he says, clicking his tongue. "I phrased it incorrectly. I’m not a fucking pervert."

“You got us fooled,” Jimin mutters. 

Taehyung leans in closer to the six boys and even Jungkook finds himself getting intrigued. Admittedly, he was a little curious considering he hasn't had a proper meal in weeks. He could really use having some extra cash for food without worrying about rent.

"You have to date the girl for like three months," Taehyung says seriously, "and I'll consider that as enough proof that you managed to actually do it since I know you guys are too horny to wait any longer than that to fuck."

They all look at Taehyung in disgust, Jimin even opting to hit him in the back of the head for being so vulgar. To be fair, they were all thinking of accepting Taehyung's bet regardless. It's not like they were new to leading girls on anyway.

"You gotta pay me more than that to fuck just any girl," Yoongi says, yawning in the process. He seemed the least likely to take up Taehyung's offer, but he was still game depending on the person.

"Then how would you feel," Taehyung starts, "if I told you guys that I could get you priority registration for next quarter."

The boys, even the ones who weren't interested, were now listening to Taehyung's every word.

"You mean," Hoseok gulps, "I could finally get that fucking Organic Chemistry class I need to get out of this hell hole?!"

Taehyung shrugs, an ominous smile on his face.

"Just the perk of having parents who have connections," Taehyung replies. “I’ll only accept one of you guys to do it though. I don’t wanna have you all fucking the same girl- that’d be weird.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what’s weird about this,” he grumbles.

“So are you guys in or not?” Taehyung asks, his patience growing thin.

He lays back on his chair, a smoldering look on his face when they all nod. They were desperate for money after all.

"The next girl that walks in will be the subject of this bet and whoever calls dibs on her first will be the one to woo her,” he says with a stretch of his arms. “Good luck boys.”

They all turned to look at the door and Jungkook watches silently as guy after guy walks into the lecture hall. No girl yet. 

Jungkook was hoping, from the bottom of his heart, that no familiar faces would walk in. If he had to deal with a past fling, he’d have to back out immediately. He never dealt with exes very well.

The guys are at the edge of their seats, praying for a cute girl to walk through that didn’t already know about their horrible reputation. They were looking for an easy target, someone that could fall for their charms almost immediately.

And then, you walk in. You were clad in sweats with earphones on, rushing toward the front row seats of the lecture hall. You were chatting with your friends, yawning several times throughout your conversation with them. Jungkook couldn’t help but smirk. There was nothing special about you to point out, in fact, you were just like everyone else. Strangely enough, he found that the most intriguing part about you.

"Nope, nope, nope," Jimin shakes his head repeatedly. "Can't, won't, never will. Sorry, Tae."

They all stare at him in confusion.

"What the fuck, what's wrong with her?" Yoongi asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Jimin faces away from you, not wanting to look at you any longer.

"No, nothing," there seems to be a blush forming on his face. He was hiding something.

“Bullshit,” Taehyung furrows his brows. “Bro, if she’s crazy and one of us gets our dick bitten off, we’re all blaming you, so spit it out.”

Jimin just sighs.

"She's been giving me Professor Kwon’s notes for the past few weeks,” he starts, much to the confusion of his friends. “Her name is [Y/N]. It'll be really mean if I go after her, especially since she and I are kind of friends. Plus, I really need to pass this class. I failed last quarter..."

The boys groan. Jimin was no fun.

"She's not my type so I don't think I could really get into it either," Seokjin states, no longer interested in the prize after Jimin’s confession. He’s been banking off of your notes from him too. 

"Aren’t we all old enough to know not to mess with people’s feelings?" Hoseok sighs.

They roll their eyes at Hoseok’s statement. Who was he trying to fool with the nice guy act? He probably fooled around with girls just as much as the other guys did.

"Yeah, I’m backing out," Yoongi agrees, "and she hates me so there's that."

They all look at him questioningly and he puts his hands up in the air from their gazes.

"What? I just realized who she’s talking to down there.”

He pointed at a girl discreetly, but no one seemed to recognize her.

“Her friend and I dated,” Yoongi continues, “and I broke up with her over text and blocked her without letting her respond. That whole friend group is pretty much pissed at me. I'd rather not have to deal with them again."

The guys look disapprovingly at him. Breaking up over text was harsh, but probably not the worst thing Yoongi has done to his exes.

"You're actually a piece of shit," Namjoon sighs. "I really do need my rent paid though..."

Jungkook nods in agreement. It's been almost impossible to balance Taekwondo practices, college papers, and working a part-time job all at once. If he could somehow find a way to quit his job for a while and get priority registration for classes, then he doesn't mind getting his hands a little dirty in the process. Plus, you were cute enough and he's sure you weren't too difficult to befriend as long as he doesn't mention Yoongi in any conversations.

"I'm in," Jungkook chides, finally saying something after such a long period of silence.

They all look at him with disbelief in their eyes. Jungkook was never the one to partake in Taehyung's bets. In fact, he was the one usually ridiculing them for participating. He must have been really desperate if he was willing to do it.

"I mean, it's all yours if you want," Namjoon replies, "I don't wanna turn it into a competition.”

“Don’t worry dude,” Jungkook fist bumps Namjoon, “I’ll quit my job and refer you for it.”

They nod at each other as if they were on the same wavelength. 

“I knew I could rely on you,” Namjoon says, faking tears from his eyes. The boys groan in response.

“Alright,” Taehyung claps his hands. “In exchange for providing me some mindless entertainment and going out with [Y/N], you will get your rent paid for the rest of the year and get early registration for next quarter. Sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me.”

Jimin shakes his head.

“I don’t know about this, guys...”

Jungkook doesn’t hear him and instead takes one last look at you. You catch him in the corner of your eye and you can’t help but feel flustered at his serious expression. 

“Should be easy enough,” he mutters to himself and turns his gaze back onto his friend.

“So we have a deal?” Taehyung asks.

He smirks, shaking the outreached hand Taehyung held out for him. He steals another glance at you and he finds you staring right back. He gives you a wink.

“Deal.”

—

Jungkook slid into the seat next to yours in the campus canteen, his eyes filled with determination. His posture was laid-back, but it was a little too obvious that he was trying to act like he didn’t care.

“Hi,” he greets you in a breathy tone- girls loved it when he spoke with his breathy tone.

“Hi?”

You’d been sensing that someone was staring at you during the lecture, but you thought that was just the paranoia that came from being near such an intimidating group of guys. Turns out, you should always trust your instincts.

Jungkook had a boyish grin on his face that made you want to smile back but also stare at him in disgust.

“I heard you help Jimin with Professor Kwon’s notes,” he whispers mischievously. “I’m struggling myself, actually...”

Not really, but you know. This was the easiest tactic to approach you- tackle your similarities. You nod understandingly at his words, not quite getting that he was flirting with you.

“Yeah I can send you the Google Drive folder,” you comply, taking your phone out. “But you can’t let Professor Kwon know or else he’ll flip out. He doesn’t want people to have the notes for some odd reason...”

You trail off but Jungkook just scoffs. You seemed clueless.

“That’s not what I necessarily meant,” he says, a little shy this time. “I need a tutor.”

You furrow your brows at him.

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to pay me for that,” you say seriously. The last time you offered to tutor someone for free, they ended up blaming you for their failing grade and screaming about it all over social media. You needed money to compensate for that emotional trauma. “Microeconomics is hard to teach.”

“Well thankfully I’m a good student,” Jungkook teases. You stare at him with a deadpan face.

“You wouldn’t need my help if you were a good student,” you say blankly, standing up from your seat. “My hourly rate is 20,000 Won. Take it or leave it.”

Jungkook’s eye twitched. He had to spend his money to get Taehyung’s money? Well, the payout would be worth it in the end anyway. He reaches out a hand to you.

“If you’d have me,” he says cheekily, looking up at you. You take his hand in yours and maybe for a second you felt your heart skip a beat, but that was soon over when you let go of him.

“You have sweaty hands,” you say straightforwardly. You wipe your hand on your shirt and he coughs awkwardly at how unresponsive you truly were. Didn’t Jimin say you were a nice person? 

You take your barely-touched lunch tray and walk away from his pensive figure.

“Wait, can I get your number?” he yells. You don’t look back.

“Alright, whatever,” he mumbles to himself. “I’ll just ask Jimin, I guess.”

Without even a second glance, you disappear from his sight. He sits back on his chair, heaving out a deep sigh. Sure, this wasn’t the first girl that didn’t care much for his advances, but you didn’t even crack a smile or anything. This is going to be harder than he thought...

—

“She hates me,” Jungkook whines to Seokjin as they walked down the university halls to their next shared class. “Yesterday, I went up to her to get her number and I left with a fucking debt. Does that make any sense?”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have taken on the bet,” Seokjin yawned. “Namjoon would have wooed her with his poetry by now or some shit.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure she’s interested in a dude who can’t even put on a hat without causing an earthquake.”

Seokjin smacked him on the back.

“At least he’d have the guts to say no to having a fucking tutor,” Seokjin replies. “You dug your own grave, man. Now roll around in it.”

“Do you want me to succeed or not?” 

“I want you to not be a fucking dumbass, Jungkook,” Seokjin sighs. “Do you really wanna make your reputation worse than it already is?”

Just as Jungkook was about to reply, he catches a glimpse of you walking farther ahead in the university courtyard. You were a bit far but he’s sure he could make it if he hurries. He smacks the binder he held in his right hand onto Seokjin’s chest.

“Yo, can you cover for me,” he asks hastily and Seokjin stares at him with a concerned gaze. He watches as Jungkook takes off his backpack and leaves it on the ground. Jungkook looked about ready to break out in a sprint.

“What the fuck, why?” Seokjin questions.

“Just tell the TA I’m out for a bit,” he says in response, already running ahead to catch up to you. “I’m winning this fucking bet or I’ll die trying.”

Jin stands still, mouth agape. Jungkook really left him with his backpack and binder just to talk to you. He shakes his head. ‘I need to make new friends,’ he thought to himself, picking up the discarded backpack and walking in the direction of the class Jungkook was planning to be late to.

You were walking with your earphones on, not noticing someone sprinting at you in record speed. You only turn your music off when Jungkook stops in front of you, his hands on his knees. He was panting heavily.

“Hey,” he says through deep breaths. You nod at him awkwardly.

“Why are you running?”

“I wanted to... catch up to you... and I thought... you were closer... but the run here... took... fucking... forever,” he says breathlessly. “Water. I need water.”

You take out a bottle from your tote bag hastily, handing it to him. He took it into his hands, grazing your fingers a bit. As he was about to start chugging it, you halted him.

“Waterfall,” you say curtly- you were still planning to drink out of it later after all. 

He nods in response, a drop of sweat cascading the side of his neck. After he was done, there was practically no water left anyway. ‘I’m gonna have to refill it myself,’ you thought begrudgingly. You stuff it back into your bag and wait until his breaths become more even.

“A bit out of shape, huh?”

He scoffs and gives you a glare, clearly offended.

“I actually have a Taekwondo scholarship, you know that? I just wasn’t warmed up and I’m naturally sweaty so it’s not like-”

You laugh a little.

“I’m joking,” you say, a smile adorning your face. He feels his face turn red and he can’t help but purse his lips out of embarrassment. Jeon Jungkook couldn’t take a fucking joke.

“O-oh,” he says shyly, avoiding your gaze. Why was he acting more like an idiot than usual? You hear the chiming bells of the university tower and stare at your phone to check the time.

“Don’t you have a class?” you ask him. His eyes widen and soon he was dashing off again. He turns around mid-run, jogging backward to face you.

“My number is 06-1313-9197,” he yells, loud enough for the other late students in the courtyard to hear. Most of them roll their eyes, knowing that Jungkook was flirting with another girl yet again. You’re embarrassed by the amount of attention he’s getting, but punch his number on your phone anyway.

“Text me,” he shouts. “I’ll always respond to you.”

Now it was your turn to be flustered.

—

"That’s wrong,” you say, reaching over to Jungkook’s notebook and marking a large ‘X’ on his paper. “You’re not supposed to apply that function for this problem...”

Jungkook stared at you with a tired face. He didn’t think he was too bad at the mathematical aspect of Microeconomics, but it seemed like it was your life’s mission to make him look like an idiot. Of course, you caught every mistake that he made- even the ones he made on purpose just to see if you were really paying attention to his work and not bamboozling him.

“My bad,” he mutters, copying down the same problem on a different sheet of paper. He didn’t even get a chance to make a move on you today- not like he could make any big developments in the campus library anyway.

“Is it like this?” he asks, tilting his notebook to face you. You take a hard look at it and nod.

“Yeah, just make sure you know the difference between these two formulas, or else you’ll mess up on the midterm,” you say thoughtfully.

This was your fourth or fifth tutoring session by now? Truth be told he wasn’t really counting. Each moment he spent with you kind of blended together and he didn’t quite know if that was a bad thing or not.

“You know you’re not even struggling,” you say, your nose buried deep in your textbook. “It’s not like you’re completely clueless like Jimin. It seems like you’re wasting money on stuff you already know.”

Jungkook laughs heartily, getting shushed by the people around him. He really was stupid, wasn’t he?

“Yeah, well, it was just an excuse to hang out with the pretty girl in class, you know?” he says as nonchalantly as he could. You stare at him for a second and he swears he feels his body freeze over. If looks could kill...

You just shook your head with a click of your tongue and got back to reading.

“The pretty girl in class is most definitely not me,” you grumble. “If you wanted, I could’ve given you Soobin’s number without all the added hassle of you trying to come talk to me-”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Jungkook stops you from saying anything else. He looked worriedly at your face. “I don’t even know who the hell Soobin is, why would I want her number?”

You look at him and finally, you chuckle. ‘She really does have a nice smile,’ Jungkook thought to himself. It would be nice if he could make you laugh more often and not just on rare occasions like this.

“You’re saying you don’t know Yoongi’s ex?” you tease slightly. You were finally letting your guard down with him and Jungkook smirked. One wall down, another million more to go.

“Bold of you to assume that I know any of Yoongi’s exes,” he says and you scoff. “He’s an asshole when it comes to dating.”

You roll your eyes.

“Isn’t that your whole friend group?”

He pouts. You knew of his reputation after all. Jungkook thought he could get away playing a nice boy act, but it didn't seem possible considering your knowledge of him. A little white lie couldn’t hurt in the end.

“Not me,” he replies. “I choose my relationships pretty carefully.”

You take a glance at him before jotting down a few more words in your notebook.

“Well,” you start off, a little shy to admit what you were about to say, “I guess we both have that in common.”

He tilts his head rather cutely out of confusion.

“What do you mean?”

You cough awkwardly, adjusting yourself on one of the library’s notoriously squeaky seats.

“I’ve never really had a boyfriend before,” you say quietly. His eyes bulge out from their sockets.

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” you say, a hint of amusement in your voice.

“Like, you’ve never been on a date or what?”

“I have,” you say hesitantly. “I’ve been on a few but they just never led into anything serious. I was pretty focused on studying in high school so there weren’t really any opportunities to get involved with someone. Plus, the guys who pursued me weren’t very... attractive.”

Jungkook laughs loudly again, much to the dismay of the other students in the library. He liked that you didn’t beat around the bush- it was easier to talk to you that way.

“And me?” he asks teasingly, laying his head on his arm that was atop the desk. He looks up at you with that boyish grin of his that gave you small butterflies in your stomach. You stare back at him, but only for a second. You ignore his watchful gaze and continue to flip through your textbook, trying to find the passage you last read. He keeps his eyes locked on you and you just couldn’t resist.

“What about you?” you ask, feigning ignorance.

“Am I attractive?” he replies as bluntly as he could. You stop your movements and he chuckles.

“You’re... cute,” you settle on that word. Cute. It was safe enough to not be misinterpreted too much. He sits up straight with a satisfied smirk. He takes his pen and draws a heart on the side of your notebook. He winks at you when you stare back at him, puzzled by his actions.

“You are too.”

—

“Tell me you’re lying,” Soobin whines disappointingly, shaking your shoulders. You were trying to eat lunch undisturbed in one of the campus cafes but your two friends seem hell-bent on making you suffer. “There’s no way you’re friends with Jungkook.”

You sigh, attempting to rid yourself of Soobin’s grasp but to no avail.

“He’s an asshole, [Y/N],” Gaeun sighs disappointingly. “I thought you were a feminist, why the fuck do you even tolerate him?”

You glare at her for a split second before going back to prying Soobin off you.

“Jungkook has no respect for women or himself. It shows in how many shitty friends he has,” Soobin chants, still clearly bitter that Yoongi dumped her.

You shake your head, rolling your shoulders back when she finally lets go of you.

“Jungkook’s not even as bad as you guys describe him,” you reply. “He’s actually been really sweet.”

The girls take a glance at each other and burst in a fit of laughter.

“You must be out of your damn mind,” Gaeun cries. You cower slightly at their words. It’s not like you said anything that controversial, did you?

Soobin slaps Gaeun on the shoulder when she realizes how your face had soured. It wasn’t right to judge you for your choice of friends so harshly, no matter how horrid said person was.

“As long as it doesn’t go past friends,” she says soothingly, but that only made you feel worse.

“Why?” you ask a little hesitantly. “Does Jungkook sleep around?”

Gaeun nods, a worrying glimpse in her eyes.

“He's not exactly the type to kiss and stay...”

You nod understandingly. You weren’t too clueless to believe Jungkook when he said he was “careful” on who he dated. As long as you knew the boundaries that came with being his tutor, everything should be fine... right?

“Don’t worry guys,” you say with determination. “I’m not the type to get played-”

“Of course you are!” Gaeun sighed. “Guys gravitate towards girls like you who lack experience. Jungkook’s a fucking weirdo, of course, he’s gonna try and-”

“[Y/N]!” a shout from across the cafe screams. That distracted you from the various insults Gaeun was spewing from her mouth. You get that she was being critical of Jungkook, but did she have to speak ill of you too?

You look around and catch Jungkook waving frantically at you. He stops at your table and takes a mere glance at your friends before setting his focus on you. 

“Do you have time to help me out today? One of the papers for my writing class-”

“You tutor him in writing now, too?!” Soobin exclaimed, mouth agape. “[Y/N], what the fuck.”

You try to ignore your friend’s overreaction, a little disheartened when Jungkook looked hurt at their words. He had started to shy away from them as if he didn’t feel welcomed.

“Nevermind, I’ll just ask you later-”

“Actually,” you say standing up. “I’m free now.”

The two girls look back and forth between you and Jungkook, noticing the stars in your eyes when you looked at him. They did not like the thought of you two together at all.

“But [Y/N]-” 

You ignored their words and start to walk away, hoping Jungkook would come catch up to you. You didn’t quite know why their insistence on him being a bad person had made your blood boil. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware of his flirtatious tendencies, but hearing from your friends that you shouldn’t pursue a guy that you liked-

You stopped in your tracks and feel heat climb up your face. Like.

No way you admitted that just now. There’s no possible way you actually like-

“Hey, wait up,” Jungkook pants, his hand touching your shoulder. “Why do you walk so fast for-”

He sees your shocked face and turns you towards him, his hands on your shoulder similar to how Soobin had shaken you just earlier. Except this time, it felt comforting. It made your whole body feel warm as if you were coated with a weighted blanket. Was he always this gorgeous?

“What’s wrong?” he asks, inspecting your face closely. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“N-nothing,” you swipe his hands away and rush out the door of the cafe. He smirks at how flustered you look, maybe he did have an effect on you after all.

Jungkook takes a last glimpse at the two girls who sat in their seats, staring at him disapprovingly. He raised an eyebrow at them and shoved his hands in the pocket of his jeans, following after you. ‘They’ll try to get in the way,’ Jungkook thought to himself, ‘but they’re already too late.’

The girls clenched their fist out of annoyance. He was definitely trying to get on their nerves.

“There’s something strange about what’s happening,” Gaeun mutters.

“They’re up to something,” Soobin agrees. “I don’t trust him at all.”

—

It’s been a week since you last spoke to your friends, not really wanting to read the messages they bombarded you with about how you should stay for away from Jungkook. It was hard to take any of their advice seriously when they were just badmouthing him without reason. They based all their opinions on him from rumors around the school and Soobin always felt the need to compare him to Yoongi even though they both had very different personalities. Well, at least to you they seemed very different.

Frankly, you were sick of their nagging and just turned off notifications from that group chat altogether. Instead of sitting next to them during Microeconomics, you opted to sit with Jungkook in the back of the lecture hall instead of at the front with them. Jungkook had abandoned his own rowdy friend group to sit with you and flashed them quick smirks and winks whenever they’d stare at him. 

Slowly, Jungkook had started to become a constant in your day to day life. You walked to class with him, ate with him, played video games with him. It was sort of strange how used to you were of his presence, like you had known him your whole life. Jungkook snaps you out of your thoughts when he starts humming a little tune.

He draws a heart in the corner of your notes- which you find he has a habit of doing whenever he wanted to say something stupid.

“I don’t get what he’s saying,” he pouts cutely. “It’s like he’s speaking a foreign language.”

You shake your head, not paying him any mind.

“Well maybe if you actually paid attention,” you mutter softly. He scoots closer to you and you feel yourself stiffen.

“But you’re tutoring me later on anyway,” he says teasingly. “I get more bang for my buck if I know less.”

“Bang for my buck,” you scoff. “Who even says that anymore?”

He points at himself nonchalantly and you can’t help but crack a smile as you continue to focus on the professor’s words. You don’t even cower under his gaze like you usually do when he stares at you with those puppy dog eyes.

“What do you want?” you ask, finally caving when Professor Kwon adjusted something in his PowerPoint slides. He smiles.

“I want to hold your hand,” Jungkook replies and you could feel your palms clam up. His flirtatious comments increased as time passed and you didn’t really quite know whether he was just teasing you or if he was genuinely interested in you. You weren’t very good at taking a hint.

“I’m writing right now...” you reply, slightly skipping a beat in your note-taking. He really was the ultimate distraction, wasn’t he?

Jungkook pouts sadly, but you can tell an idea pops up in his mind when his eyes start to glimmer. He sits his hand on your thigh and you jolt back from the touch of his hand on the material of your jeans. He pulls away slightly, scared that he had made you uncomfortable.

“I just want to put my arm around you,” he asks innocently. “Are you okay with that?”

You calm yourself down and nod. For goodness sake, you weren’t a child- why did a hand on your thigh make you so nervous for?!

“Yeah,” you say, a little more confident despite your nerves. “Go ahead.”

He smiles softly at you and connects his hand to your waist, pulling you a little closer to him. It was comforting, not at all meant to be more than just a public display of affection. He finds himself getting lost in the lecture along with you, his hand playing with a loose thread on your shirt through it all. He didn’t even look at his friends who were teasing him on the other side of the class or your own friends shooting daggers into his being.

At that moment, it was you, him, and Professor Kwon giving out a lecture that had half of the students already asleep. He smiled at how diligently you worked and how your breath would quicken when Professor Kwon switched the slides without a warning. It was the little idiosyncrasies like this that caught his attention, the kind of things that made him wonder where you’d been all his life.

The smile on Jungkook’s face disappeared when he came to that realization.

Fuck.

—

Jungkook rolls around the grass while you sit on the picnic blanket you two had set up. Midterms were over and grades would soon be announced. He wanted a much-needed distraction from the monotony of constant studying and you had suggested a small picnic in a nearby park. Of course, he agreed. 

“We’re free,” he groans. “Finally free.”

Jungkook stares hungrily at the assortment of food you had laid out for the two of you. He tries to reach a hand out to grab a bottle of lemonade but ultimately fails in the end. You giggle at his silliness, popping a grape in your mouth.

“You’re welcome by the way,” you say jokingly. “Don’t think you could’ve done it without me.”

He sits up to face you, bowing deeply as if you were a traditional empress.

“Thank you,” he says, imitating a Joseon accent. He was watching far too many historical dramas recently.

“You’re embarrassing me,” you say, attempting to straighten him out. “Sit up.”

He complies, only after a few pulls from you, with a toothy grin on his face.

“Seriously, I don’t think I could have gone through the first few weeks of Professor Kwon’s class without your notes,” he sighs, opening his mouth to signal that he wanted to be fed. You roll your eyes but placed a grape between his teeth anyway.

“You have hands, you should know how to use them,” you mumble shyly.

You move to take another grape for yourself, but he grabs your wrist before you could. He intertwines his fingers into yours.

“Why should I when my hands are holding yours~,” he says in a sing-song voice. It made you want to throw up at how cheesy he was, but you couldn’t help but laugh along as he cringed at his own words. When was it so normal for him to hold your hands like this?

“You can’t go one sentence without flirting, can you?” you sigh, feigning annoyance.

“Not when it comes to you,” he replies, but you could feel sincerity laced between his laughter. “I can’t resist flirting when it makes you all giggly like this.”

You purse your lips to prevent yourself from smiling too brightly. Jungkook and you were somewhat past the point of being just friends by now, but you were too much of a coward to label what you had with him. What if there was a chance that he was just leading you on?

Jungkook saw your furrowed brows. He rubbed circles on your hands with his thumbs to ease you.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asks softly, about to let go.

“No-” you say a little too quickly, clasping him closer to you. Your faces were inches apart now, much nearer than they were before.

“D-don’t,” you attempt to say but you’re tongue tangled as you looked at his lips. He certainly does have nice lips...

“Don’t what?” he asks in a lowly voice. You start to look around you- anywhere that wasn’t him. The park was relatively empty but it still felt embarrassing to say anything too loud.

“D-don’t let me go,” you say, your eyes on the picnic blanket rather than on him. His gaze was too intense to look at. Jungkook feels his heart clench. You were cute, too cute. 

He shouldn’t be feeling this attached to you, but he couldn’t help it. Everything you did, every word that came out of your mouth- it had him wanting more from you than he could possibly handle. It was dangerous to feel this way.

“Why don’t you want me to let you go?” he asks nervously. He too was anxious for the answer. If you were to confess to Jungkook right now, he’d get the first part of the bet done, but there’d be no turning back after your confession. He would have to lie to you from now on. 

Jungkook closed his eyes, chanting to himself that it’s okay to like you for a little while, just as long as he doesn’t get too attached in the end. He needed the money, he really did.

“Because,” you start off with a sigh, staring at him now with glossy eyes. “I like you.”

Jungkook feels like he could do ten backflips in one go and it wouldn’t even drain him of energy. The smile on his face was huge, his eyes curling into that half-moon shape that made you swoon. 

Jungkook was relieved and if the boys asked, it was because he’d only have to date you for three months. He’d die before he’d admit to them that he caught feelings because Taehyung, as generous as he was with his bets, would never give Jungkook the money unless he cleanly broke up with you. It was one of his unspoken rules.

“I like you too.”

You smile at him and he can’t help but pull you close, his lips hovering over yours.

“Can I?”

You nod.

His lips graze yours slightly but he pushes a bit closer when he feels you lean into his touch. He kisses you again, and again, and again, but you pull away when his tongue had started to prod at your lips. Your face was flushed,  embarrassed to be doing this in such a public place.

“Maybe later?” you say, panting slightly. He gives you a cheeky grin and nods.

“At my place?” he asks with a wink.

You hesitate, letting go of his arms, twiddling with your fingers. You wanted to set clear labels on what your relationship was. You didn't want to accidentally get caught up in a friends-with-benefits situation and be all shocked when Jungkook ends up breaking your heart.

“So we’re dating now, right?” you ask cautiously, looking at him with a worried glint in your eyes. 

Jungkook’s mouth opens to speak but no words come out. He thinks a little harder about the whole situation... He was getting good grades, spending some quality time with a girl he’s clearly attracted to, and having his rent paid off all in one? He was killing three birds with one stone. It shouldn’t be too big of a problem to catch feelings for now, right? It’s not like any of his relationships lasted longer than a couple of months anyway.

He nods, cupping your face lightly.

“Yeah,” he hesitates. “We’re dating.”

Jungkook wasn’t aware, as he gives you another light peck, that it wasn’t possible to have his cake and eat it too.

—

It happens naturally. You coming in and out of his apartment that he shared with his friends, you tangling your legs with his underneath the sheets of his bed. It was hard to imagine a life where you didn’t wake up with him by your side. You were so wrapped up in his touch, so wrapped up in the sweet words he would whisper into your ears, that you spent most of your time with him. 

You weren’t really up to date with your friends anymore and he didn’t really hang out with his either. Jungkook shared an apartment with Seokjin and Hoseok, and so the only contact he had with the other boys was when they visited those two. He should’ve known to take you back home when all the boys bombarded into his living room, where you sat with him watching TV. 

“The lovebirds are at it again,” Taehyung coos, a mysterious glint in his eyes. “The honeymoon stage hasn’t passed quite yet, has it?”

Jungkook chucks one of the sofa’s throw pillows at his friend, obviously annoyed. What the fuck did Taehyung think he was doing?

“Quit it,” he mutters. You were sitting next to Jungkook, his arm around your shoulder protectively

“Why?” Yoongi yawns. “Anyone can see how incredibly in love you two are.”

You didn’t quite like the smirk he gave the two of you. This didn’t feel like regular teasing... it felt like he knew something that you weren't aware of. It made you curl your toes out of fear.

“Guys,” Jimin says calmly. “Stop it.”

The boys shrug their shoulders as if they said nothing wrong.

“We’re just pointing out how cute they are together,” Taehyung noted, “It’s not like we’re lying to her or anything-”

“Yeah, or leading her on or anything like that-”

“I think I should go,” you say hurriedly, uncomfortable at how tense the atmosphere was. Jungkook was clenching his fists, about ready to start a fight any second. Knowing his strength, you didn’t want anyone to walk around with a bruised eye because you couldn’t handle a few jokes- if that’s what Taehyung and Yoongi think they’re making. Harmless jokes.

“I’ll take you home,” Jungkook announces, standing up with you. Namjoon pulls him down back on the couch.

“Let someone else take her,” he says sternly. “We need to talk.”

Jungkook was about to protest until you spoke up.

“I can get home by myself just fine.”

“Hoseok and I can take you,” Seokjin insists, pulling the unassuming man up with him. “We don’t mind.”

Hoseok gives you a lopsided smile and you return an equally awkward one.

“Okay, that’s settled,” you say, clapping your hands. You walk over to Jungkook. “I’ll text you later okay?”

He nods, grabbing your hand and kissing it lightly. Yoongi scoffs and Taehyung glares at Jungkook. The dirty glances they were giving each other... You didn’t like it at all.

“Let me know when you get home, okay?”

“Okay.”

—

The walk to your apartment was unnecessarily awkward, Hoseok and Seokjin were talking too much and you talked too little. You tried to respond to their every quip, but you weren’t in the mood for chatting after that whole mess.

“You okay, [Y/N]?” Hoseok asks worriedly. “Don’t think too much about what those idiots said back there, they’re like that all the time.”

You nod, keeping your eyes on the ground. There was something chipping away at the back of your mind, something you wanted to get out of your chest.

“Would you say Jungkook and Yoongi act similarly?” you hesitate to say, “like with relationships?”

The two boys exchanged nervous glances at each other.

“Well, it depends,” Seokjin starts, choosing his words specifically. “What about relationships specifically?”

“Does he...,” you start off, not knowing the right phrase without sounding too harsh, “play around with girls? Like how Yoongi played around with Soobin?”

Hoseok looked at you with a raised brow.

“Who’s Soobin?” he asks before getting punched in the arm by Seokjin. “What the fuck bro!”

Seokjin clears his throat.

“What Hoseok meant to say,” he starts, glaring at his friend a little too harshly, “is that Yoongi never really introduces us to his girlfriends. You, on the other hand, are one of the few girls Jungkook actually took the time to invite over.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok chimes in. “He’s not exactly the most chivalrous, but he wouldn’t ghost someone like Yoongi did.”

Somehow their words weren’t enough to satisfy you. There was still something off in the conversation that transpired between the three boys- as if they were all keeping something from you. You stopped abruptly in front of your apartment complex, finally making eye-contact with the two boys.

“Do you think...” you start, a slight quiver in your voice, “that Jungkook is cheating on me?”

The two boys let out a deep breath that you didn’t even notice they were holding and laughed joyously together. They cackled as if what you said was the funniest thing they had ever heard in their life. Seokjin wipes a stray tear from his eye.

“Y-you think Jungkook’s cheating on you?!”

You nod, a little embarrassed at their reaction. Hoseok shakes his head, sighing out of his laughter.

“Trust me,” Hoseok starts, his breath evening out. “Jungkook would never cheat on you.”

You start to giggle along with them until a serious look suddenly takes over Seokjin’s features. He faces you fully.

“But listen [Y/N],” he starts. “If Jungkook hurts you, just know that he does love you. Like, undeniably. He does.”

“And we’re not just saying that as his friends either,” Hoseok continues. “We know how he’s like and we can tell that he really does like you.”

You smile at the two, feeling a small sense of comfort at their words.

“Thank you, guys. I mean it.”

They pat you on the back.

“Anything for Jungkook’s girlfriend.”

—

You walk through the campus cafeteria, eyes searching for a free table that you can sit alone in. Jungkook had Taekwondo practice so there would be no lovey-dovey feeding time with him. 

He’s been a lot tenser since the living room incident (which was already a week ago) and it seemed like he got more agitated as the days passed. Not towards you directly, but he’d always mutter slight insults whenever Yoongi or Taehyung passed by. It made you worried that you had done something to possibly drive a wrench into their relationship without even knowing it.

‘Whatever,’ you thought, ‘I’ll talk about it with him when he comes over later.’

You aren’t able to find a seat, though, when you feel dainty fingers wrap around  your elbow to pull you back lightly.

“[Y/N],” Gaeun says in a low voice. “We need to talk.”

It wasn’t like you had been ignoring them deliberately, though that was definitely the case at the start. You just couldn’t find the time to really hang out with them as much as you used to since you were with Jungkook most of the time. It was like that too when Gaeun and Soobin were in relationships, so you never really felt bad about doing it yourself.

“Yeah sure. I miss you guys,” you smile at her, but she doesn’t return it back.

“Come with me.”

Gaeun leads you to a table near the back of the room, where Soobin was sat up against the wall with her own tray of food. You sit down in front of her and Gaeun takes the seat next to Soobin.

“Good, you’re here,” Soobin says, apprehension laced in her voice. “We need to talk about Jungkook.”

You roll your eyes.

“Not this again-”

“[Y/N],” Gaeun warns. “Listen.”

You keep quiet, a little intimidated of how scary their expressions were.

“It’s all a bet,” Soobin says sternly.

You furrow your brows at her. She tends to speak vaguely when you needed her to be specific the most.

“What?”

“It’s a bet, [Y/N],” Gaeun repeats for her. “Jungkook’s only dating you because Taehyung said he’d pay his rent off if he did.”

You clench your fist on the table. How could they sit there and spew lies so easily?

“What are you guys-”

“Those dicks do this all the time,” Soobin rambles. “They play stupid games with girls just to fucking break their hearts later on and-”

“I don’t believe you,” you say confidently. “Jungkook would never do that to me. Besides-”

Gaeun didn’t even wait until you stopped talking to play a recording on her phone. The voices were familiar enough to recognize.

“So you’re telling me that Jungkook’s just fucking around with [Y/N] because he wants priority registration? You have to be fucking joking...”

You could tell from the sound of the person’s voice that it was Soobin. It sounded like she was putting on her clothes.

“Of course not. He’s doing it for priority registration and his rent getting paid for the rest of the year. I’m not joking when I say Tae goes big with his bets. He likes to flex his money on us like that.”

Your jaw drops at the sound of the man’s voice. It was Yoongi. You were sure of it.

“And you guys don’t feel bad? Like at all?”

“Why should we? Jungkook’s planning to break up with her next week anyway so she doesn’t catch feelings for too long. It’s not like they were gonna last past the three-month deal...”

Gaeun paused the recording when she sees you bite your lip so harshly that blood starts to surface. This didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel real.

“I hooked up with him last weekend,” Soobin admits, shame written all over her face. “He was spewing stuff about Jungkook spending all his time with you and not really hanging out with the boys like he used to.”

“You still hook up with Yoongi? After all he did to you?” you ask, not meaning to come off aggressive but undoubtedly did.

“Look,” Gauen starts, taking the heat off of Soobin. “She was just drunk and looking to have fun. I was with her that night and I was talking to Namjoon. He...”

Gaeun trailed off, but you were sick of it. Sick of being kept in the dark from something you should’ve known all along.

“What?”

“H-he told me that all the boys were getting tired of him playing around with you,” she says, twiddling with her fingers. “He’s supposed to break up with you today. Some of the guys think he’s just prolonging it to fuck with you and they’re getting really annoyed-”

You bite back the tears threatening to spill over any minute now.

“Hoseok and Seokjin told me to trust Jungkook. They said he wouldn’t hurt me-”

“Did they also tell you that their rent gets paid too if Jungkook pulled through with the bet?” Soobin replies angrily. “Because they live together, don’t they?”

You open your mouth but no sound comes out- just a small whimper. Your lips start to quiver and you bite your lip again to calm yourself down. When you had collected your thoughts, you glared up at the two girls.

“And you didn’t tell me this earlier?”

Soobin scoffed.

“You were fucking ignoring us too, how were we supposed to tell you?”

“Still it wouldn’t have killed you to-”

“Don’t take your anger out on us,” Gaeun warns, her finger pointing at you. “Jungkook is the one to blame. We told you from the start that he was bad news.”

You pursed your lips and Gaeun put her finger down, feeling guilty that she lashed out on you when obviously you were just processing the information.

“Hey, I’m sorry-”

“Why me?” you ask with teary eyes. “What did I even do to them to deserve this?” 

They glance over at each other for a long while before Soobin breaks the silence. You had the right to know, but at the same time, they knew it would break you.

“It’s a sick game that they play where they just choose someone randomly...” Soobin starts off gently handing off the next few words to Gaeun, “and you were just the first girl to walk into Professor Kwon’s lecture hall. He thought you’d be...”

“Easy,” Soobin finished.

Just as they predicted, you had burst out in tears.

—

Jungkook opens the door to your apartment, using the spare key you had given him a month earlier since he tended to visit often. It was more convenient that way. 

He was freshly out of his Taekwondo garb, still sweaty, but otherwise clean from taking a shower at the campus gym. He found it strange at how dark the room was, but he knew you were on the couch from the noticeable lump of a blanket on it.

All Jungkook wanted was to cuddle with you and fall asleep in your arms after such a harrowing day. Lord knows he needs your warmth right now.

He smiled as he made his way towards you, but stops in his tracks when you sit up from where you laid. He couldn’t quite see you in the darkness so he walked to the light switch to turn the lights on. His heart broke at the sight of you.

Tears stained your cheeks, your eyes red and puffy from all the crying. You looked a mess and his blood boiled at the thought of someone hurting you. 

“What happened?” he asked, rushing over to you and cupping your face in his hands. You push him away.

“You don’t have to act anymore,” you say softly. “I can handle it.”

He looks at you with furrowed brows.

“What are you talking about-”

“I get that you really need the money,” you say through bated breaths, “I get that financially, it would have really helped, but did you really have to hurt me to do that?”

Jungkook’s breathing stopped. Everything was happening too quickly, his world crashing down when you uttered those words. He knew what this meant, knew that now you would see past his lies. Jungkook couldn’t have you finding out this way. 

He kneeled in front of you, attempting to wipe away the tears from your eyes but you push him off.

“[Y/N] no-”

“It could’ve been anyone,” you whimper, trying to look up at the ceiling to prevent any more tears from falling down. “Anyone could’ve walked through that door and you would’ve been okay with it.”

“That’s not true-” he interjects but you stop him.

“A-and you flirted with me all the time ‘cause you knew that I wasn’t used to it,” you say, your voice quivering. “You took advantage of me.”

Jungkook shakes his head rapidly, eyes pleading for you to let him speak. It hurt seeing you refuse to even look at him, to have your eyes so filled with sadness because of what he did to you. He fucked up, he fucked up so bad.

“No, you have to listen-”

“They told me not to trust you,” you whimper somberly. “They told me and I didn’t believe them because I... I was delusional or something. I thought that someone like you could actually like someone like me-”

His heart broke. It wasn’t you that didn’t deserve him. It was him. All him.

“Please don’t say that-”

“Did you come here to seal the deal? To finally break up with me?” you ask sadly. “Are you happy you’ll get the classes you want next quarter, Jungkook?”

He clenches his teeth. Jungkook knows you’re mad, knows you have a right to be, but it feels like he’s being cornered by you. Why won’t you give him the chance to speak?

“[Y/N], no,” he says sternly, “You have to trust me when I say that it went past just a bet. I like you. Genuinely, I like you.”

There was no point in lying any longer. You deserved to know the truth, but he needed you to know all of it- not just the information your friends cherry-picked to fit their narrative. He tried to speak again, but you wouldn’t let him.

“How could you,” you whimper. “How could someone be so cruel?”

Jungkook’s heart breaks at the words. He should’ve seen this coming. How could he delude himself into thinking he’d be okay if you find out- that he’d be fine seeing you heartbroken? He was disgusted with himself.

“I’m sorry [Y/N],” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, your vision getting blurry from the tears. He clasps your hands in his, knowing that it used to soothe you whenever you felt worried over something, but you just wailed harder at his touch. He didn’t know what to do, he didn't even know where to start.

“Stop pretending like you care,” you cry. “Please. It hurts.”

“It was a bet,” he admits and he breaths through the words to prevent himself from getting too emotional, “but I promise that my feelings are genuine. You have to trust me.”

“Trust you?” you ask crudely.

You stare at him, slowing your breaths to ease the crying. There was a certain emptiness in your gaze and it scared him. It was awfully frightening having you looking at him with a certain animosity that was not there before. Like he was a stranger.

“I can’t do that anymore, Jungkook,” you say softly, “because I hate you.”

—

A/N: Gasp A double update?! Say it isn’t so... I had so much fun writing this!!! Probably one of my favorite fics I’ve written in a while because I love this trope. How do y’all feel about Jungkook? Forgive or forget? Let me know!! Thank you @altus-gens​ for requesting this story, I hope you like it :)

Please leave any comment, critiques, or just random thoughts about my story! I’m planning my murder mystery series rn and I’m so excited (I might... do an album giveaway along with it...) I really love the direction I’m taking this blog in and I hope you guys are excited for the stories to come~~ 

buy me a coffee?

[akaashisbabygirl]

camboy part two

authors note: hehe i decided to leave you all on a cliffhanger once again. if you haven’t read part one i suggest you do so! i think my tags are working again so hopefully this can be seen in tags!! i’m sorry that i took forever to post this, i’ve been really busy :( now, if you would like a part three let me know!

words: 1840

pairings: camboy!akaashi x female!reader

warnings: NSFW, male vibrator use, female and male masturbation, mentions of sex toys, reader gets sad, akaashi gets sad, kinda angsty, leaves you on a cliffhanger

part one 

“so...” akaashi’s voice spoke into the microphone sitting on the desk, “thank you all for your suggestions. i’m going to be taking them into consideration for my next video.”

he quickly turned off the microphone, stopping everything he was doing to check out the list of items people had suggested for him to use in his next stream.

a harness, blindfold, handcuffs?? he didn’t know how much that would work. he’d have to find a way to restrain himself without having to call someone else to do it for him. that would be tricky. some viewers even suggested he used some sex toys such as a vibrator because they wanted to see what akaashi would look like squirming and overstimulated. or some even suggested that he were to edge himself, not letting himself cum just yet. cat ears, a harness? the things people were suggesting to him made him really interested to see just how far they wanted him to go. maid outfit? he chuckled.

it would’ve been next to impossible for akaashi to hide all the clothing items from you, his roommate, the one person he has definite feelings for. he couldn’t just keep some women outfits in his closet - you would believe he has a girlfriend who you didn’t know about. and if you felt the same way about him, you would be upset with the fact that he never told you about being in a relationship.

he shivered to these thoughts. which is why akaashi kept the idea of just getting the simple items - cat ears, harness, a skirt, sex toys etc. at least he wouldn’t need to try and hide them from you.

if you had found akaashi’s secret sex toy stash on accident - he knew you would probably just brush it off, considering you know him and his hormones, and knowing he wasn’t taken by anyone, there really wasn’t anyone to fuck.

you see, akaashi isn’t the type of person who is interested in one night stands. yes, he had lost his virginity before his ex girlfriend, which he regrets very much. but now, akaashi was a grown man. he was out there looking for a relationship that he wanted to last for a long time, a relationship where he can properly love the person for more than just the sex.

a relationship that he wanted to build with you.

he left his room quickly as he heard the door shut, signalling that you were back home. he was excited to see you, yet, he hid his excitement from you.

“can you help me?” you asked, pouting softly. akaashi chuckled, grabbing some of the heavy bags from your hands, setting them down on the kitchen bench.

a soft pink blush spread across your face. he was so big compared to you, and you liked it. you felt so small next to akaashi, so tiny and adorable. and you know he liked that too - akaashi feels that he can be able to protect you because you’re smaller than him, but that’s just how he feels.

the next day, akaashi was out early to leave for work. the apartment felt cold and empty when you had woken up to the painful sight of the sun shining too brightly into your eyes. it would be one of those days which you had gotten used to overtime, where you would spend all day at home on your own, waiting for akaashi to walk back in through those doors once more. you waited, and waited, thinking of things to do could seem to make time move faster than it had previously.

by noon, you were sitting on your bed, laptop in your lap as you scrolled through your work, submitting it to your manager before he yelled at you. you sighed softly, in desperate need for a break. that’s when the idea popped into your head, to check if he had uploaded. seeing that he had, you smiled greatly. a smile of relief had sprouted over your soft cheeks. you slipped your sweatpants down, watching how the man sat on the screen, his cock already hard and noticeable in his boxers.

you almost drooled at the sight of his cock. it was pretty. if that was even a proper way to describe it. you watched as the man took his erect cock from his boxers, thinking about how it would fit inside of you. he was bigger than what you had seen and taken before, but he was the only man who made you drool to the thought of what it would be like inside of you. how your cunt would feel sucking him in, how he’d hit those spots inside of you that you could barely reach with your own fingers. you’d let him fuck you over and over again until you’d become dumb and unable to think properly, drooling all over the white bedsheets of your bed.

soft fingers rubbed your clit, tracing around your folds before finally slipping a finger into your wet hole. a hand clamped over your mouth quickly to try and surpass your moans as your hips bucked up for more friction. you chased after that one feeling that made you lose control every time, the feeling that had your legs shaking and eyes rolling to the back of your head. moans slipped forcefully from your lips, a wave of pleasure spreading quickly throughout your body from the feeling of your fingertips desperately trying to reach that one spot inside of you which always sent you over the edge. 

however, what you didn’t know was that akaashi was in the apartment. his jaw had dropped quickly while hearing a moan slip from your lips. without having to look into a mirror to see his painful expression, akaashi could tell a tear had fallen down his cheek. he felt as if he was tied down to the ground by some invisible shackles, keeping him in place, forcing him to accept the reality that he did not want to accept. he didn’t want to stand there and listen to some guy fuck you, he didn’t want to hear you moan for that man, praise them and give them all your attention. selfishly, akaashi wished it were him. 

slowly, akaashi made his way out of the apartment, locking the door behind him. he rushed to bokuto’s, planning to send you a message saying that he would be at work late. it was only because he was too scared to see you right now, akaashi was too afraid to see you. he didn’t want to see your fucked out expression. he didn’t want to see the man or whoever was making you feel this good. 

and so he left. 

when akaashi arrived home that night, he acted as if nothing had happened - and so did you. it made akaashi mad, knowing that he had clearly heard something going on in your bedroom earlier that day, but he didn’t want to sound like a jealous idiot and bring it up. which is why he chose to keep his feelings to himself as he sat beside you, watching the stupid rom com on the tv. he hated the fact that he felt as if his feelings were twisted into a tight knot that he couldn’t untie. there was so much love for you filling his heart that he could’ve sworn that at any minute his own heart would combust from the anxiety which danced around his mind. 

akaashi knew that he needed to get a new video out, his fans were growing desperate and he was needing the money. he waited patiently until you had left the house, before locking the door to his room, changing up his setting to the camboy’s room. 

time passed and quickly moans were spilling from his lips, his hips bucking up as his hands grasped desperately into the bedsheets. he chose today to incorporate a toy, a vibrator specifically, yet, he didn’t know that this much pleasure would spread through his body. he blushed from how he was moaning, he was so desperate, so subby even. he felt dirty, overstimulated from the way the toy was making him feel. his eyes rolled to the back of his head as another orgasm washed over him, his fucked out body falling to the sheets after taking the small toy away from his length. 

he waited until his body filled with some energy before he got up from his spot on the bed, moving to turn his camera off. he quickly changed his sheets, accidentally forgetting to put his skirt away, before passing out underneath the sheets of his bed.

you smiled, seeing akaashi in his bed fast asleep. you could tell he was in a deep slumber from the way he clung to his bedsheets, not even moving a muscle. you adored the sleeping boy. 

“he must’ve worked himself too hard today” you thought, knowing that akaashi never falls asleep unless he’s exhausted.

how you wished that you could go over to him and kiss his forehead, telling him to sleep well, or even that you could get into bed, wrapping your arms around him and falling asleep with his back to your chest. there’s so much you wanted to do, but akaashi wasn’t your boyfriend, so it wasn’t going to happen. 

you grabbed your washing form the bathroom, a pale blue skirt catching your eye in the process. this wasn’t your skirt. who’s was it? your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, almost swearing that tears began to bombard your eyes as your mind came to realisation.

akaashi has a girlfriend.

you left the skirt there, pretending as if you had never seen it. however, the thoughts of akaashi being with someone else made you feel sick. soon enough, you were also curled up under the sheets of your bed. 

days had passed, yet the thought of akaashi having a girlfriend didn’t leave your mind. you wondered what she was like. how pretty is she? how tall is she? what is her hair colour? what’s her style? or in general; what does she look like? you couldn’t find a part of your mind that wasn’t thinking about this as you made your way back to the apartment. you felt sick, almost anxious even being there. you felt scared, scared that you would run into the girl who had crushed your dreams of being with akaashi.

opening the front door to the apartment, you heard a loud cry coming from akaashi’s room. his door was slightly spread open, screams and moans coming from there. you didn’t care about the moans, why was akaashi screaming? rushing to his room, you shoved the door open.

but what you saw wasn’t what you expected.

“akaashi...” you noticed the familiar set up to the way the cam boy has. the bed, the walls, even the pretty skirts, some of the toys he’s brought out before sitting on the bed beside him, “what are you doing?” 

© all content belongs to akaashisbabygirl 2021, do not repost or change

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 302: As the Todoroki Turns

Previously on BnHA: 

Today on BnHA: We have a very fun chapter in which (1) Shouto grows up lonely on account of his parents being worried that his siblings will literally try to kill him, (2) Natsu and Fuyu grow up neglected on account of not being special and/or self-destructive enough to attract attention, (3) we get to revisit all of that exciting spousal abuse from chapter 39, and (4) Touya burns to death right on cue, pretty much exactly like we expected it to happen. Thankfully since this is a shounen manga, Horikoshi finds some hope in all this misery as the Todoroki family rallies together, with Shouto getting his long-overdue credit for being a perfect sweet angel who put up with all of this shit for sixteen years and somehow came out of it strong and kind and empathetic and determined. Anyway, so that flashback was a barrel of laughs. But now that it’s over, we can put all of that angst behind us, and move on to... well I guess, probably, more angst. Look, we’re short on variety at the moment. Bear with it.

ouch. we knew this was coming, but still

A+ parenting move there. “ho boy, our eldest just tried to murder our youngest, now what? hmm how about we isolate our youngest from all human contact”

though in their defense, we probably shouldn’t have expected this rabidly strength-obsessed fire man and his wife who was groomed since childhood to obey her family’s whims to have any idea of how to raise stable, well-adjusted offspring

SERIOUSLY YOU GUYS

this is a perfect example of Enji’s tragically self-revolving viewpoint right here. just because being a hero is your entire world doesn’t mean you can just excuse yourself from anything outside of that and act like it’s out of your control. “alas, all I care about is hero stuff and my son can’t be a hero, we are doomed to inhabit two different worlds” no you jackass, it’s called having more than one hobby?? figuring out how to spend some time with your son that doesn’t involve training?? the same exact thing you were telling him to do last week, while ignoring that you’ve never done that yourself in your life??

that said, yet again we have that complexity though because it’s obvious that Enji at least on some level is aware of his own flaws, even though he seems unwilling or unable to confront them. honestly, from what we’ve seen so far, Enji’s obsession with surpassing All Might might be more accurately called an addiction. he literally can’t let go of it even though he’s fully aware of how it’s slowly destroying his life. and so in the same way that a lifelong smoker or alcoholic might tell their child to stay away from cigarettes and booze, Enji tells Touya not to follow down the same path as him, even though he himself doesn’t know how to leave that path. so yes, it’s hypocritical as fuck, but there’s also an element of helplessness there as well because Enji literally doesn’t know how not to be like this

though all the same he sure could stand to put in more than just a token effort. but it is what it is, and we already know how much he’ll come to regret it

and meanwhile Baby Shouto has frozen his sleep bubble with his quirk lmao. so I guess his quirk did come in early. that’s a recipe for chaos right there

once again Shouto is ruining every single dramatic panel in this flashback

this was so dark and intense... and then I spotted the lil bubs in the corner. Horikoshi please control yourself

“some hero you are, running away” and then all of a sudden, “FIVE YEARS LATER” lol what. OKAY THEN

(ETA: love the confirmation that eight-year-old Natsu comes from the Iida school of puberty and is basically a fully grown man, and meanwhile Touya comes from the hobbit school of puberty and has been perpetually eight for the past five years.)

“HEY BIG BRO WANNA COME RECREATE AN ICONIC FLASHBACK SCENE WITH US. WE’VE GOT THE SOCCER BALL RIGHT HERE, BUT HURRY UP OR WE’LL BE TOO LATE FOR SHOUTO TO WALK ON BY AND STOP TO LOOK”

lol and that’s literally the next three panels. but Horikoshi did add this extra bit after Endeavor starts to drag Shouto away

seriously Enji what the hell did you expect was going to happen here. “Touya went nuts and tried to kill his little brother out of jealousy, so let’s make it clearer than ever that Shouto is the important child and all the other children are just rejects. this will definitely not make the problem 100x worse, and will surely lead to Touya giving up and living a happy life, having been emotionally abandoned by the person he admired more than anyone.” good for you pal you figured it all out. no need for that plan b, “we all just go to therapy”

anyway so he’s telling Shouto he can’t play because he needs more endurance training. and meanwhile Touya’s patented Todoroki Drama Genes are going through puberty as well

definitely the face of a happy, emotionally stable child who’s not still plotting to murder his younger brother in his sleep

“WELL ACTUALLY MAKESTE” lol I stand corrected??

apparently during the five year interim Touya actually stopped blaming Shouto and realized Enji was the one at fault. good for him! a bit inconsistent, given what we know happens later, but I assume we’ll get to that in good time

anyway. “yeah man I agree that dad sucks, but it’s the middle of the night and I’m only eight and you’ve been monologuing for the past two hours bro”

LMAO

the manga is making my jokes for me, only better. fine then

looks like someone’s still miffed about that disagreement he had with his baby sister back when she was like four

“Fuyu doesn’t get properly riled up like I want her to so ranting to her is annoying.” okay but having been in Fuyu’s shoes, it really is just a different way of coping, and I can guarantee she’s not as fine with the whole situation as Touya might think. but making your peace with something is often a decision that’s made for emotional self-preservation reasons. and I sure as hell don’t fault her for trying to shut out a situation that she had no control over, and trying to make the best of it, and scrape together as normal a childhood as she could manage

and now in Touya’s defense as well, that is of course easier said than done, and I’m sure if there was a “push this button and instantly get over all of the trauma in your life” switch readily available for Touya then he would have pushed it too. unfortunately it’s not always that simple

so now Rei is pleading with Touya not to go train up on his little emo hill again, but it doesn’t seem like much has changed since he was eight

I don’t think he gives two figs about being a hero; he just wants his father to look at him again with pride. fucking hell, stop doing this to me you damn Todorokis

guh, they keep telling him the same thing over and over again

even if we hadn’t already known he was gonna go melt his jawbone off soon, I wouldn’t have expected a line like that to go over well

yep. fuck

that Todoroki puberty angst, though. nothing else quite like it

“you have a part in this too, Mom” ooooooh man

okay but look, he’s not entirely wrong. like, I’m not saying any of this is Rei’s fault at all! she’s in an impossible situation where she’s afraid to stand up to Enji (who by this point has shown that he’s willing to physically attack her if things get too heated, which is terrifying), and doesn’t really have anywhere to turn for support. her parents aren’t helping much if at all, and Japan in general is just a terrible country to be in when you’re in a domestic abuse situation. everyone’s expected to put on a brave face and deal with their problems all on their own in private. Rei is basically completely isolated at this point, and she doesn’t know what else to do, and so she’s just trying to keep the situation as stable as possible for the kids

but on the other hand, “for the kids” is also where that argument starts to break down a bit, because at this point Shouto is also being physically abused by his father, and the other kids are continuing to be neglected (emotionally if not physically), as they have been for years. so the situation really isn’t stable at all for them. and as a kid, what you end up learning in that type of situation is that you can’t rely on either parent. not the abusive one, certainly, but also not the other one who can’t protect you from any of it. even if they love you and they’re trying, they’re just as helpless as you. Rei is struggling to deal with all of this with one hand tied behind her back, and I get it, and I’m not blaming her at all. but all the same, particularly given that she’s (understandably) putting almost all her focus on Shouto, the end result is that the other kids have basically been left to fend for themselves

so yeah! a shitty situation all around. and one of those cases where it’s not really anyone’s fault (aside from Enji’s), but I can understand the resentment Touya is feeling all the same. and I’m so glad Horikoshi is acknowledging this, because it’s something I probably would have been too uncomfortable to bring up otherwise. as it is it’s still an incredibly heavy subject, and one that I probably have too many personal feelings about

anyway, so once again the whole “we’ll try talking to him and then just shrug our shoulders when it doesn’t work” parenting strategy doesn’t really pan out for the Todoroki fam

sob this boy is Anakin Skywalkering before our very eyes. all that’s missing is AFO to come and start whispering in his ear. any minute now...

“anyway so then he got taller and his fire changed from red to blue”

guess we’re getting pretty close then huh. this is the part of the flashback that I really don’t want to see, but also unfortunately the part that I’m most curious about :/

oh for fuck’s --

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IGNORING HIM FOR FIVE YEARS DIDN’T ACTUALLY DO ANYTHING TO SOLVE THE PROBLEM” sob. back to the drawing board I guess

I thought he got taller, why is he still only like a third of Enji’s height here

oh fuck me these are armor-piercing feels. this is the heavy artillery right here

ENJI I’M BEGGING YOU PLEASE STOP AND THINK FOR ONE MOMENT IN YOUR LIFE BEFORE DOING SOMETHING YOU’LL REGRET FOR THE REST OF ALL TIME. your child just told you that he still thinks beating All Might is the only thing you care about, and that he believes his existence is a mistake unless he finds some way of doing that for you. please stop for a moment to contemplate that and choose your next words with care and grace and oh who the hell am I kidding

-- OR WE COULD JUST BLAME REI

go on and blame everyone but yourself then!! that’s a great solution!! jesus christ man I know this is Endeavor at his literal worst but still this is fucking hard to watch

POOR BABY SHOUTO IS YELLING AT HIS DAD NOT TO HIT HIS MOMMY THIS LITTLE BRAVE BOY NEEDS SO MANY HUGS OH MY GOD

AND MEANWHILE THE OTHERS ARE HUDDLED IN THE NEXT ROOM TRYING NOT TO CRY AH FUCK

(ETA: Fuyu covering Natsu’s ears cuts RIGHT TO THE CORE OF ME. Horikoshi if you’re really not gonna get these kids some therapy then at least consider giving your readers some. what is this.)

you know it’s bad when you’re starting to think the part where the kid burns to death might actually be a less traumatic thing to cut to right now

holy shit, actual Rei thoughts

“I was the one who ultimately made that choice” well there we go, wonder if that’ll put that whole argument to bed at last. I doubt it, but you never know. actually who am I kidding it’s not gonna settle jack shit lol

oh thank god, they decided it was getting too intense and cut away back to the present to narrate this next (final?) part

get ready to cue up that Alicia Keys. THIS BOY IS ON FIREEEEEEE

yeah I think that’s one thing we can mostly all agree on. neither of them had any clue what the fuck they were doing pretty much at any point. though I will say that the hypocrisy of him being all “WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP HIM” followed by him IMMEDIATELY DOING THE EXACT SAME THING is a bit rich

(ETA: and he still has this problem, doesn’t he? he froze up when Ending snatched Natsuo, and again when Dabi was attacking Shouto. he’s so afraid of doing the wrong thing that he ends up not doing anything, which of course is exactly what led to Touya’s death. damn Enji I guess you’ve still got some additional character development to unlock.)

and of course neither of them could possibly have known how badly it was going to turn out. like, the consequences here were WAY disproportionate even for the shittiest of parenting. no one expects “I didn’t know how to talk to my son” to snowball into “my son burned to death and then somehow came back as a villain and murdered thirty people”

ohhhhhhhh fuck me

LITERALLY INCINERATED THE ENTIRE HILLSIDE. fuck. and I am so not ready for the scene of Enji finding the remains of his jawbone afterwards. at least we were spared anything super-graphic (for now at least)

I feel like the timeline here is off, btw?? wasn’t Touya’s death supposed to happen after Rei got hospitalized? this might be the first actual retcon of the entire flashback. although I think it makes more sense this way tbh

I do appreciate that ten years later Enji is finally reflecting on the fact that if he’d just given up his stupid obsession he could have stopped his family from crumbling apart. that probably sounds sarcastic as fuck, but it’s not. there are countless jerks out there who would have still managed to find a way to blame literally everyone and everything under the sun except for themselves. at least he finally figured out how to take responsibility, even if it came too late to stop his son from dying and being radicalized into a villain terrorist organization

and speaking of, it seems to me we’re missing a third and final part to this little tale of woe, and one which only Touya himself will be able to shed any light on. so we’ll see how that goes

oh man seeing the other kids blaming themselves even though none of it was their fault hits hard af. Rei wasn’t kidding when she said they’d been bearing that burden of guilt far longer than Enji

SHOUTO I SWEAR TO GOD IF THE NEXT PANEL IS YOU APOLOGIZING FOR BEING BORN, I WILL... WELL I’LL BE VERY SAD, I GUESS. SO DON’T DO IT

oh good he’s just being quiet. good. it absolutely is not your fault lil bean. it’s not theirs either, but feeling guilty about things that aren’t your fault is a time-honored shounen tradition

goddammit I braced myself for the angsty Shouto panel a page too early. gotta do it all over again now lol. okay here goes

;_;

well well well would you look at that

imagine that. talking things out with your child before they make a rash decision. looks like the Todorokis’ parenting skills are finally leveling up

OH MY GOD

holy shit. this is the most quintessential moment of father/son Todoroki bonding in the entire series. for me it even tops the “nice scar” scene lol. Enji sobbing at the fact that he still has a chance to set things right. and Shouto offering his hand in what is actually the most mature and selfless gesture I’ve ever seen, and being all “we’ll stop him together” to his dad who he hates, but also doesn’t really entirely hate anymore. and all of that is incredibly moving... BUT ALSO HE STILL REFUSES TO MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH HIM AND HE WOULD LIKE HIM TO STOP BEING SO FUCKING DRAMATIC ALREADY IF YOU DON’T MIND. “WHEN YOU’RE DONE CRYING...” fkjldsk

OH MY FUCKING LORD

(ETA: wouldn’t be a Todoroki drama fest if there wasn’t somebody listening in on the whole thing in secret just around the corner lmao.)

“you think we should have waited somewhere else?” “yeah, probably.” “are you feeling a lot of secondhand embarrassment too?” “god, you have no idea.” STFU HAWKS IT’S NOT EMBARASSING TO BE MOVED TO TEARS BY YOUR FAMILY ALL COMING TOGETHER IN YOUR DARKEST HOUR TO GIVE YOU HOPE THAT YOU PROBABLY DON’T DESERVE BUT ARE NONETHELESS INDESCRIBABLY GRATEFUL FOR

and anyway you chose these guys as your found family, bucko. too late to back out now. next time go get yourself adopted by the Iidas then

AND MEANWHILE NO WORD ON THE WHOLE “HOW DID A THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD SURVIVE A FIRE THAT COVERED HIS BODY WITH HORRIFIC SCARS AND MELTED HIS JAW OFF, AND HOW DID HE SOMEHOW THEN MANAGE TO GO INTO HIDING FOR TEN WHOLE YEARS, AND WHAT HAPPENED IN THAT INTERIM TO CHANGE HIS GOAL FROM ‘SURPASS ALL MIGHT TO IMPRESS MY DAD’ TO ‘KILL ALL HEROES TO MAKE MY DAD SUFFER’.” as if we don’t know the answer to that. but still, would it kill Horikoshi to just confirm AFO’s involvement in all of this already. at this point it’s basically just a formality

so here’s hoping next week we’ll either get that, or more Hawks action, or (DARE I EVEN SUGGEST, I’M AFRAID TO JINX IT) finally cut back to Bakugou and Deku and All Might omg. either way I’m hyped

[the-darklings]

—𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞;

⤫ pairing: johnny silverhand x corp!v(ermillion)

⤫ summary: Usually, they’re a calamity together—destructive and volatile as each other. But right now, just for a second, there is only music and them.

⤫ word count: 2.3k+

⤫ warnings: spoilers for act i & side mission the ballad of buck ravers, third person but can be read as RI ig, swearing, written in one sitting so who knows what the final result is - certainly not me. 

⤫ notes: let me leave my clown shoes outside.

It starts out the way it always does. 

One ring leads to another and she suddenly finds herself running or driving around the Night City with little to no rest, pulling one job after another. The more jobs she closes the more she seems to be in demand.

Good for business. Good for making a name for herself, too, but not so good on her overall being. 

She’s been running. Like a fucking coward. Filing her days with meaningless shit while trying desperately not to think about her ticking clock. About Jackie. 

Guilt gnaws on her bones daily. She should have done more, been better, more careful. Jackie never should have died. It was stupid and blind ambition that drove them both to try and pull this near impossible heist in the first place. Her own reckless drive has blinded her, and now the person closest to her in this fucking city is nothing more than a cold corpse. 

Fuck.

She should have sent him to his family instead. She only wanted to spare them from the grief of having to see Jackie in the state he was in but now Araska has his body and god knows what those assholes might be doing with it. 

And now…

Well she has nothing to lose, does she? She’s already dying, already hunted, her only close friend is dead. She promised to make him proud. Make it to the big leagues or make a league all on her own if that’s what it takes. Bleed this city dry if that’s the price to pay for what she wants. 

Back when she worked for Arasaka she wanted knowledge which led to power. Then she wanted guns and money and a roof over her head. 

Now she wants something more. After coming face to face with her own fragile morality, she has begun to realise how meaningless things like money and power are. Now she wants to surpass that. To become something immortal—something that will outlive her body. Maybe even outlive this city.  

Jackie should have been one of such people. 

“You look like you’re about to shit yourself,” a voice drawls from beside her, a crackle filling the air as a too familiar silhouette of a man appears in her sight. “Or cry.”

“Fuck off.”

V turns away from one Johnny Silverhand because it’s hard to look at him and not be reminded of the fact that she’s slowly dying and the construct only she can see and hear is the one doing the deed.

“This self-pitying bullshit needs to stop,” he says, ignoring her vicious words. “We share a brain, remember? I feel what you feel. It’s downright depressing in your head right now.”   

Her jaw clicks at the reminder. Everyday she wakes up and feels like they’re linked by a bridge—he stands on one side, and she on another. When they come closer, she can feel it—feel him. The overlap is near dizzying, overwhelming, even a little addictive. But it’s always followed by agony because she fights back, tries to shove him away. If not, he will consume her, but she will get him out of her head before that ever happens. 

You share a brain now, Vik had told her only days prior, his eyebrows knitted tight and—albeit subdued—but clear worry in his low voice, senses and memories, even perception. Eventually it will become impossible to tell whose who anymore. 

The worst thing is the fact that he’s right. 

She can feel Silverhand rooted inside her; a constant, a presence that is persistent to a point she knows she’s not alone even if she wishes to be. 

An echo of a being deep inside her.

“Then get the hell out,” she bites back, fighting to keep her temper leashed so she doesn’t burst out at him like she did at the diner. She can still remember the wary stares she received from the diners when she started shouting verbally at a figment only she could perceive in the first place. “I didn’t ask for a parasite to make himself home in my brain.”

Johnny scoffs under his breath, raising a cigarette to his mouth, and she’s nearly overcome with need to remind him that he’s fucking dead, and can’t smoke. That, and the fact that she would prefer him to leave her the fuck alone. 

“You did the job, didn’t ya? You sure you didn’t have this comin’?”

Flipping him off, she storms past him, her jaw clenched to appoint it aches and eyes narrowed. Just her luck not only to get stuck with a human tumour but for the said tumour to be a bastard to boot.  

So much for being buddies. 

Sun has set over Westbrook hours ago yet Chinatown is as busting with life as always. Overflowing with conversations all spoken in different languages, smells, distant gunshots, and people from all walks of life just trying to survive. Even during her years with the Arasaka, she never quite got used to the vastness of the Night City—not even when she was sure she was at the top. The way this city seems to breathe and fester day in and out; a living beast full of dangers and potential is unique. 

Lost in the crowd, it’s almost easy to forget who she is aside from another face in the said crowd. She’s not a merc, not an ex-corp working counterintelligence—she’s not anything. 

Her optics catch sight of several Tiger Claws lingering around the market, and she makes sure to give them a wide berth, especially when she notes the impressive list of their stats. She’s not stupid enough to attack outright when they outclass her—for now—and there are several of them around. With the market this busy the only outcome to that fight would be a bloodbath with police on her ass when that’s the last thing she needs right now. 

Despite that logical part inside her steering her well clear of the gang members the need to blow off some steam bubbles under her skin. An ache starts to form against her temple soon after, making her focus blur around the edges as she wanders from vendor to vendor aimlessly. 

“Hey, V,” a rumble of a voice cuts through her thoughts—and she hates how she can’t quite ignore his voice unlike everyone else—and turns her head in the direction of the call. She had foolishly assumed he was going to give her some peace of mind for tonight at least. “Check this guy out.”

Walking up a dimly lit staircase, she had barely noticed a man sitting on a rickety chair and playing a guitar. Much like her, others walk right past him, ignoring the man altogether. 

Johnny glimmers into sight, squatting in place and oddly intent on observing the old man while he plays.   

She entertains the idea of walking away simply to piss him off. If something is of interest to him, then she wants to ignore it so hard it gets under his nonexistent skin. Petty, perhaps, but ever so satisfying. 

Hearing no reply or receiving much reaction at all, Johnny slants his head her way, nodding once towards the man, “What do you think?”

Squinting, she drags her gaze towards the guitarist, crossing her arms over her chest while she listens. She’s not even sure why she’s bothering but…

The melody is slow, near drowned out by the bustling sounds of the nearby market and chatter of people walking past. 

“He’s...fine?” she offers lamely. “I mean he’s pretty good.”

A slight smirk crosses over Johnny’s mouth—gone in a blink but the focus he places on the man who seems to be unaware of her or the silent second spectator surprises her. 

“Loses tempo more than he keeps it,” he comments, almost absently, and she feels her eyebrows arch in another show of bewilderment. A quiet spells falls over their little nook, and Johnny listens more, thoughts rolling inside his head if his body language is any sign. “Sloppy on the technique but he has feeling in the way he plays. Can’t teach that.”

“If only you didn’t die,” she sighs softly, closing her eyes in mock sympathy. “This could have been you.”

He surprises her again by laughing at that. It’s a deep rumble of a sound, and she can almost feel it echo between them and their mental bridge. “You’re kinda of a bitch. Has anyone told you that before?”

Her teeth flash in the dim orange glow of the neon lights. “And you’re sort of a dick. Anyone tell you that before?” she wonders with a charming, practiced smile. 

He flickers out of sight and she’s about to call it a mental victory but a tickle of electricity kisses across the bare curve of her shoulder and neck, and she shivers when he appears beside her. His arms are crossed as well, and he glances her way briefly.

“Seems to me like we’re two peas in a fuckin’ pot, then,” he points out easily, and shakes his head, seemingly amused by his own words. “I might have tried to kill you a few weeks ago but look at us being chummy, Ver.”

Her throat closes up at that, expression tightening. He notices of course. Or maybe it’s the unease that slices through her mind at the casual way he uses her nickname. 

“What? Am I not allowed to call you that or somethin’?” he wonders curiously, seemingly entertained by her reaction. Asshole. 

“Only my friends call me Ver.”

Jackie was the first. 

That thought makes her swallow painfully, a dull ache clawing against her heart. One would think that years being a corpo would have wiped whatever humanity still lived in her but Jackie’s death had been a stark reminder that she couldn’t be further from the truth if she tried.  

“Why?”

She gives him a flat look. “Because my full name is Vermillion, but people tend to find it a mouthful so…”

“Vermillion,” he repeats, his intonation dry, and she shoots him a quick glare, daring him to make an issue of it. Naturally, his next words don’t surprise her, “That’s a stupid fuckin’ name.”

“Oh, because Johnny Silverhand is so much better.”

She expects him to say something snarky in return, argue maybe, but he only snorts. His metal hand lifts, pushing his aviators down slightly as he glances at her over them.

“You got me there.” 

Usually, they’re a calamity together—destructive and volatile as each other. But right now, just for a second, there is only music and them. Shadows and life of the Night City holding them both suspended in this moment. No arguments or biting comments. No guilt, either. 

A slight smile tugs across her mouth as she continues listening to the man play his downbeat little tune. Her shoulders loosen, drooping slightly and she lets herself breathe for a moment. Just the one. 

“Used to be just like him,” Johnny speaks up suddenly, his voice more subdued, lower, and taps his fingers against the cigarette he’s holding. “But better. Used to play everywhere we could. Garages, bars. Anywhere that would have us, and we always had an audience.”

She hums, offering him a brief glance. “You mean you were actually good?”

She can’t see his eyes in the darkness of the street or through his tinted shades. But despite that, she can still feel his glare and the mental bite of chagrin/irritation/why is she so annoying? and deeper than that a spark of amusement/little shit thinks she’s funny. 

“What’s this?” he muses, his words sarcastic. “A corpo rat that actually has a sense of humour? Colour me surprised.”

“No can do,” she shoots back promptly, fighting back a wider grin. “You’re too dead for that.”

He tsks, throwing his cigarette to the ground and she almost rolls her eyes. “Can’t wait to be out of your damn head, princess.” 

“Can’t wait to be rid of you, either, so the feeling is mutual.”

Their words might be stringent but she can almost taste the faint amusement trickling between them and under that bridge that connects them. 

“There might still be some bootlegs of those old days,” he muses thoughtfully. “People used to record everything back in my day.”

She drags her gaze his way, lips thinning into a firm line, “I’m not becoming a fan, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

“Afraid you’ll hear real music and won’t be able to go back to this modern garbage I hear everywhere?”

There is challenge in his words and she bristles. Maybe this is what she needs. She may not be able to put holes in some Tiger Claws with her sniper rifle but she sure as hell can go on a scavenger hunt and see what she finds. 

Besides, it might help her to understand the man nested inside her mind a little better.

So when an hour later the old, wrinkly vendor asks her why he should give her his oldest, most precious Samurai vinyl, she tells him the truth. 

A twisted truth. 

But truth all the same.

“He’s with me every step I take, every move I make,” she confesses softly, something deep down breathing awake at that admittance. “Johnny’s like my conscience. My eternal, infernal moral compass.”  

She doesn’t miss how the man in question doesn’t appear, doesn’t say anything even after hearing that. She would have figured he would be the first in line to offer her some mocking, snarky comment but there is only silence. 

In fact, she can barely feel him at all. The tether between them is still and quiet. 

And his silence says a lot more than he probably realises. 

.

an: hello. guess whose not dead and kinda back to writing. dunno how much of cp77 you should expect because coa is still my priority but maybe occasional fic for these dumbos is on the cards. oh, and takemura because cdpr are cowards for not giving us that enemies to friends/partners to lovers romance. also I know this isn’t strictly RI and I honestly considered writing it as such but saw...no point? since the premise still would have been the same, so something a little different today ig. 

[cafedanslanuit]

♡   f l u f f v e m b e r   2 0 2 0   ♡ 

♡  week one  —  kageyama tobio   |   long-distance relationship

♡  summary  —   getting into a relationship with kageyama was close to impossible, that you knew. nevertheless, that didn’t stop you from developing feelings for him and eventually becoming more than friends. he was constantly training and didn’t have a lot of time to spend by your side, but once kageyama found himself remembering your laugh on his way home, he decided to do whatever it took to make the relationship work.

♡  playlist

the moon song   -   beabadoobee & oscar lang home   -   bruno major blueberry eyes   -   max & suga

♡  masterlist  ♡

Every morning, Kageyama wakes up at the same hour. He puts on his running shoes, grabs his phone, keys and earphones and hits the streets. It’s been his routine since he started playing volleyball. While he ran, Kageyama preferred to keep his mind focused in his steps, the weight he was putting on his heels and toes, his heart rhythm and his mind replaying the sets he had done the day before. He didn’t see running as something he did before he trained, but as part of the training itself. Kageyama was very adamant against listening to music or a podcast during his morning runs. 

Everything changed after he met you.

Kageyama puts on his earphones and goes through his mail inbox. Like most days, he sees your name on his most recent unopened email. He downloads the audio attachment and presses play before shoving his phone back to his pocket.

“Good morning Tobio!”

His lip twitches upward.

“So, you must be sleeping right now. Which sucks! Because I just got home from work. Yes, I got safe, don’t worry. Mika and her boyfriend dropped me at my place right now. Remember Mika, my coworker? Yeah. Hey boyfriend always picks her up when we have shifts until one in the morning and they drive me home. I’m kind of tired right now.”

Kageyama hears a long yawn on your side, followed by a thud that he imagines it’s you laying on your bed.

“Let me put on some music,” you say, and a few seconds later he listens to a tune he thinks he’s heard before. “Today’s classes were just okay. I got a grade back but it wasn’t what I expected.”

“But, what can you do?” Kageyama mouths along with your voice.

“Work was also okay. Mika and I spent most of the night talking, she had had a small fight with her boyfriend and asked me for advice. It wasn’t really a big thing, you see…”

The next few minutes, Kageyama listens to you ramble about your friend and her boyfriend, but he has to admit he is paying more attention to your voice than what you were saying. He imagines himself watching you talk and the expressions he had seen you make the first time he had seen you. The tip of your tongue sticking out between your teeth after you laughed at something you shouldn’t have laughed about, the slight pout on your lips as you talked about something you didn’t like or the attentive way your eyes fixated on him while he talked about volleyball.

“Anyway, I know you don’t really care about this,” you say. “But it’s really nice to imagine you listening to me talk during your morning runs. Is it already cold there? I hope you put something on if it is. Not trying to tell you what to do. I know you, more than anyone, take your health very seriously, but I guess I can’t help but worry,” you chuckle. You stay quiet for a moment, and Kageyama basks in the comfort your silence provides.

His mind goes back to those Sunday nights when he’s watching past games on his laptop while he’s face timing with you. You are usually taking a cup of coffee, trying to forget you’ve only slept five hours after getting home from your shift at the bar. You know he has to get to bed in a couple of hours so he can get enough rest for this Monday practice, so you treasure those small moments when the time difference and both your busy schedules let you share a moment. Kageyama’s eyes are fixated on his laptop and you take the opportunity to revise some of your lessons, most of the time finding out there was a paper due next week you had forgotten about.

Every once in a while you take a look at your phone and see Kageyama’s dark eyes glued to his laptop. You bury your nose on the Schweiden Adlers hoodie he sent you last month and even if your boyfriend’s smell has almost completely worn off, you still find comfort in wearing his clothes.

When Kageyama comes back to his house to get ready for training, your voice is no longer in his ears. You always made sure not to surpass the usual time he spends running. He takes a look at the dual clock on his phone and realizes you must be still in class, so he refrains from sending a text and hops on the shower.

The fourteen hour difference between the both of you had seemed like a wall impossible to climb. Not only that but his intense training schedule plus your uni classes and your part time job also took most of your energy and it was a rare occurrence that you could sit in front of a computer at the same time.

But the connection was something he had never experienced before. He had been invited to a foreign university overseas for a tournament. The day before it started, the team had gone to the campus to get to know the facilities, and after they were done, Kageyama had left them to buy something to drink from a vending machine. Not being able to find any, he asked for directions and took the elevator to the cafeteria, not noticing someone carrying a couple of books under their arms standing next to him.

Now it seemed almost fate to remember how the elevator malfunctioned and he had to spend the next two hours with you. After pressing the Emergency button and being told it would be a while, you introduced yourself with a smile. He wasn’t really enthusiastic about getting to know each other but it all changed after he mentioned he was there because of a volleyball tournament. Kageyama can still remember your eyes widening and the questions that followed, all centered about his true passion. A few minutes later, you were sitting on the floor of the elevator, while he explained in broken English every position in volleyball and what they were supposed to do. Even though you hadn’t played any sports seriously outside of school, the fact this guy was talented enough to get invited overseas to play had spiked your attention, and you asked question after question so you could understand more about volleyball.

“So the setter is basically the key player, right?” you had asked, while he scribbled on the notebook you had lent him so he could explain.

Kageyama tried not to smile. He really did.

After you asked him about the tournament schedule and wrote down the name of his team, you promised you would do your best to make it to the game. Kageyama had never really cared about people coming to his games to watch but, once he had won the first game as was leaving the court, his eyes unexpectedly met yours and he saw you waving at him for the bleachers with a smile. He nodded at you and as he disappeared through the gym door he thought maybe someone going to see his games wasn’t so bad.

One week later, Kageyama’s team had won the tournament, and since you had asked for his number while waiting inside the elevator, you offered to buy him something from the cafeteria after the final match. This time, he took the time to listen to you ramble about your career, and how enthusiastic you were about it. He didn’t understand most of the things you talked about, most of your words sounding foreign and new to him. But the one detail he did recognize at first glance was the way your pupils dilated while you spoke. Your hands moved faster than usual as you tried to explain, and you even used the salt shaker on the table as a prop to help you out. The glimmer in your eyes was the same nature as the burn he used to feel in his chest whenever he talked about volleyball. You promised to stay in contact and gave him a small but tight hug when it was his time to leave. He hoped you didn’t notice the pink tint on his cheeks before you went away.

Your love confession came two months after he was back in Japan, followed by the longest and hardest conversation the two of you had ever had. He explained his strict training schedule and you talked about your university increasing the hardness of the classes you took and how little time you had left. A long silence filled the room, and you realized maybe you should have kept the confession to yourself. It was never going to work. There were too many impediments so maybe it would have been better to push down whatever you felt. In the end, you two weren’t supposed to meet and--

“I’d like to try it.”

You can still remember the blush on his cheeks and furrowed eyebrows after blurting out those words. You smiled brightly at him and nodded, enthusiastically.

“I’d like to try too.”

It had been one year and six months since then. To find someone who not only understood his crazy schedule but was passionate about their own work felt surreal to Kageyama. Your plan was to finish your career in your home country and then move to Japan. You had been auditing the Japanese classes at your uni and taking a part time job to be able to support yourself as you settled in a new country. All of those changes meant less time to be able to talk with Kageyama as much as you did before. He assured you he understood, even if he would never admit out loud he missed you as well.

The situation prompted you to find other ways to feel close to him, hence why Kageyama woke up almost every day with a new audio file from you. You went from talking about your day to making him listen to music and even took the chance to practice your japanese. His English listening skills had also gotten better in the past year, all thanks to talking with you and how you would slow down your pace and repeat yourself if he ever needed to. While you recorded your audios after work, he usually recorded his after practice while he walked home from practice. Even if he was always a little worried about the length, you always made sure to send him messages about how happy you were to hear his voice while you ate your lunch or walked to your job after your classes.

Kageyama finishes his shower and comes back to his room. He gets ready in less than ten minutes in silence, knowing he doesn’t have any time to spare if he wants to get to the practice in time. Winter break is a month away, and he wants to give his best before he’s forced to step away for a couple of weeks. He has never liked holidays stepping in his routine, but he knows there was nothing he could do but endure and wait for his training to resume.

Before he leaves, Kageyama checks his phone again and opens the newest email.

Congratulations! Your flight booking is confirmed.

Okay, maybe he is looking forward to winter break after all.

[cafeinthemoon]

Tobirama with a trophy wife 😳🤣

When I saw this request I didn’t know what to feel or think at first, but the idea turned out to be so funny to me that I had to give it a try lmao

Anon I hope you don’t mind if it doesn’t come out exactly the way you imagined bc this is my first time writing this sort of thing and I really don’t know what I’m doing but anyways, here we have Tobi with a 🏆 wife

Fandom: Naruto | Tobirama Senju

Symbols: 💗 | 💜 | 💚

Things were never that easy for you and your family: war, poverty and other unpleasing circumstances molded your ways in life

You were never given the chance to be romantic. For a poor girl who wasn’t a ninja, the safest way to achieve something in life was through marriage. And a man from an important clan was your goal

There were a good amount of single guys who fit these requirements around

It didn’t make your work easy, though: ninjas don’t have much time to think of building a family if they’re not the head of their clan, and if they are they would only choose someone on their level

Besides, there were those clans whose members were not allowed to marry outsiders like the Uchiha and the Hyugga

But, well, the Senju were around and were more “progressive” than their allies towards these matters

You didn’t even take a look at their head, Hashirama: man was clearly reserved to some princess from a good family

And tbh you wouldn’t spend an entire day by his side without being annoyed by his dramatic manners

However, he had a younger brother who seemed to have all the intelligence and seriousness that lacked in him and looked like a prince just like him

Tobirama was his name, and unlike the other Senju he was a real challenge

He was clever enough to see through people's intentions, focused enough on his work to ignore you as if you were part of the furniture and too grumpy to let himself being led by a girl as a simple minded man would do

All of this just made things more interesting for you

By that time, the clans’ compounds were always in need of people to work on them, performing tasks that were impossible (or unworthy) to be performed by shinobi

This meant endless space for female workers

You took your chance and applied to work on the head’s house

Unfortunately for you, there were other girls with the same mindset as you working there

The environment was always tense with silent competition: they came first and wouldn’t give up their place for nothing

You knew that the solution was to find a way to surpass them without using the same tactics as them, since they clearly didn’t work: the Senjus were still single and those girls were still servants

Observing them, you noticed they all acted the same way: they would fight for attention, but once they got it, they didn’t know what to do, an the men’s interest quickly disappeared

You would have to do the opposite

You were always gentle, showed good manners and kept your mouth shut for most of the time, just like expected from a servant

You were dedicated to your job as if you were there just for it

But during your free times you took some minutes to educate yourself sneaking through the library and reading the scrolls, most of them filled with poetry or historical content

However, you were careful not to keep yourself apart from the other girls, otherwise they would find out what you were doing. You made one or two friends just to keep up with everything

This plan of yours worked right at the first month… But with Hashirama

He somehow started to talk to you, pointing out how silent and “different” you were

You just smiled and pretended you knew nothing about being different

As the days passed, however, some sort of friendship grew between you two, and you were now assigned to work closer to him, who were always with his brother

Hashirama often talked to you as a good friend, even in Tobirama’s presence

You soon saw your chance there and watched your steps when Tobirama was around

Because of Hashirama’s influence, he started to talk directly to you as well. Most of the times he just asked you favors or gave you orders, but every interaction counted

One day, you thought the Senjus were not at home and went to the library to finish a reading you’ve started the past week

You were there for some minutes when the doors were suddenly opened and Tobirama came in

“What are you doing here?” was his natural first question

Well, Tobirama was not like his brother, so an excuse weren’t going to work on him. You told him the truth: you’ve been visiting the library to read during your free time, but you didn’t want anyone to know because you were afraid of being scolded

Tobirama said he was not going to scold you for wanting to read some scrolls and even gave you permission to keep visiting the library after work

Then you started to talk about the scroll’s content. It was your first informal conversation

You were not blind to his qualities: he was smart, observant, articulated... You were more and more convinced that having a man like that as your husband was an achievement like no other

Hashirama was the first to notice the change in your interactions and started talking in your favor to his brother

You were more than happy with this

One day, you were talking to Hashirama and managed to discreetly compliment his brother

Tobirama came at that right time and overheard the conversation

You quickly excused yourself and ran out from the place

From that moment, Hashirama gave you the support you didn’t request but welcomed anyway

One day, your hard work finally seemed to pay off: Tobirama came to you during your free time claiming that he wanted to discuss something important with you

You went to a private place that reminded you of a garden. Was that a good sign?

You were nervous but managed to discreetly ask him why you were there

The way he looked at you before answering sent chills down your spine

But then came his words

“You do not need to keep pretending, y/n. I know everything”

Oh. God. What were going to happen to you now? Were you going to be fired? Exposed? Killed?

Tobirama never seemed so scary to you before. But he must have noticed the fear in your face, because his next words were sort of assuring

“Do not be afraid. I did not bring you here to scold you. I brought you here to say that I admire your cleverness and courage to try such thing with one of us. Let me say that your plan would work with a man like my brother. But unfortunately for you, I am from a different kind”

Despite your goals and methods, you still saw yourself as an honest girl, so you just told him your whole story and the things that led you to such ways

You also confessed that as time passed and you observed him and his brother working together as a team and a family, some changes occurred in your vision of them

You were impressed with something you’ve never dreamed of experiencing yourself

Your heart was divided: you had to assure your own comfort in life, but at the same time you no longer wanted to act that way towards him and Hashirama

He didn’t make it clear if he believed you or not, but it didn’t matter, for his next measure was even more shocking

“Y/n, I will be honest with you. In a strange way, I like you. And I sense that this feeling can grow into attachment if I give room to it”

“What do you mean with give room to it, Tobirama-sama?”

“I want to say that this is exactly my intention. I brought you here to inform you that I am going to talk to my brother about our marriage”

You had to do your best to not pass out after hearing that

Despite knowing you didn’t love him and hearing your true intentions from your mouth, he was willing to make you his wife. Why?!

“But, Tobirama-sama… why? Why would you marry someone after all you just heard? Besides, you don’t even love me. I don’t understand… Nothing justifies such decision!”

His response was to approach you and whisper in your ear

“Consider this as part of your punishment”

The other day, you were sent to Hashirama’s presence (Tobirama was not there)

He congratulated you for your engagement and explained that from now on you will have to call him your brother, for you no longer were a servant, but his brother’s future wife

He then came to hug you with all his strength, leaving all his composure aside

Everything happened so fast that day that you felt like you were inside a dream: you were sent to a new room, with new clothes and everything you needed

One of your old colleagues were sent to take care of you, and the surprise (and envy) on her face was impossible to disguise

However, you couldn’t say that it was a perfect dream: you finally got what you wanted, yes, but this didn’t bring you the satisfaction it was supposed to bring

The next days, you felt strange in Tobirama’s presence, and you sensed that the more you felt like that, longer was the time he spent with you, acting as if everything was okay

You can say that after your marriage, your life in fact changed, but not exactly for the better

Unlike the period you worked as a servant, you had some comfort and a good amount of free time now, but you soon found out that it didn’t mean true happiness

At first, you thought Tobirama would be a terrible husband in each way possible, but to your surprise, this was not what happened

He was always polite with you whether in front of others or in particular, but you would never call that gentleness

When you were alone, he was almost always busy with his own stuff and you were left to do the same with yours, which was never enough to fill your free time, so you weren’t spared from moments of boredom and loneliness

(Besides, his working process while creating his jutsu was kinda scary to you, so you never got close to his office during these occasions)

In the occasional times he took you, he never hurt nor humiliated you, but neither he was as warm and passionate as you’d like him to be

Apart from that, there was no regular physical affection between you two: a kiss on your temple or a brief touch on your hand was everything you would gain

You finally understood that this is what he meant when he said he was going to “punish” you: you would reach your goal, but you’d never get rid of the sensation that something was missing in your life

As time passed, however, some genuine feeling seemed to grow between you. It was nothing like love, but some sort of partnership

When Tobirama went to the battlefield, you found yourself worried about the possibility of seeing him alive for the last time, and when he came back with serious injuries you never abandoned the room where he was treated

When you got pregnant and was going to give birth to your first child, you were scared, but he was there to assure you and to help with anything necessary

Yes, after a long time you learned your lesson and grew as a person

And he learned to see in you more than he first expected to see

Despite everything, you could say you built a good life as a family

And yes, it was true that you still couldn’t give yourself the luxury of being romantic

But maybe the love you managed to get for you was actually the kind of love that works for you

[starstruckmyths]

It was a rare treat, to have something so pretty so close by, and TJ was  basking in the attention and gaze of World War Two Super Soldier Captain fucking America.

It was rare because what he’s feeling right now, in his chest and blowing up his heart like a balloon, surpassed any high that drugs could have given him, and it was a treat because he had not expected Captain America to be the prettiest of all pretty boys TJ has met. 

Sure, TJ’s had his share of crushes in the past and he called a lot of boys ‘pretty’, but come on, even Douglas, Mister I’m so straight, has admitted to have had a celebrity crush on Captain America. But really, who hasn’t? 

It was almost funny how the poor guy really couldn’t catch a break. Gran’s been eyeing him all night, Elaine hung around him more often than not, Douglas was dying to get an autograph and a picture, and TJ... TJ just wanted to have a moment alone with him, to... well, make a move on him. 

No, for real, TJ was like ninety percent sure that Captain America was not straight. At least bi, maybe even more than that. 

While he had been playing piano a moment ago, TJ couldn’t help but notice the Captain staring at him for almost the entire time. While everyone was talking and dancing, the Captain had been standing there, watching, listening, and TJ had caught his eyes multiple times, after which the Captain averted his gaze and got red like a tomato every single time. 

Which was why he now stalked towards the man, mind sure and gaze fixed, until he came to a halt before the Captain, trying to come across as nonchalantly as possible. 

“You liked what I played?” he asked, tilting his head to the side a little, plucking at the upper buttons of his dress shirt, of which the highest few had been loosened already. “I saw you staring.”

A blush spread across the Captain’s cheeks, up to his cheek bones and it seemed to sear down his neck. TJ wondered if it would color his chest that delicious shade of pink as well. 

“You uh, you were really good,” the Captain said, “I liked it a lot, yeah.”

TJ leaned forward, pressing himself carefully into the Captain’s space, feeling no desire to get punched in the throat because he moved too fast or spooked the man. “It’s pretty noisy in here,” he said, then he dropped his voice to a low purr “You wanna go somewhere quieter?”

He could practically see the man’s pupils dilate, his head bobbing forward the slightest, and TJ could not help but grin. He gently took hold of the Captain’s wrist, then tugged it as to make the man follow him. To his surprise, the man actually did, Captain followed him like a meek lam. From the corner of his eye, TJ could see Douglas giving him the most shocked expression he had ever seen, but he ignored it. 

They went through the hallway, away from all the noise and the crowd, and towards TJ’s bedroom. They went inside, TJ closed the door (he didn’t lock it, in case either of them had read the signals wrong and wanted out), and then turned around, approaching Rogers again, who seemed content letting TJ take a good look at him, even when TJ got cocky and reached out a hand to run down his chest to his abs.

“Quick question,” TJ said then, looking up into those impossibly blue eyes, “Do you actually just want to talk here where it’s quieter, or can I rip off your suit now?”

“I like talking,” Rogers said, and TJ just felt a pang of disappointment, until the Captain turned that statement around, “But I like what other things you can do with your mouth more.”

“Smooth,” was all TJ said, before he grabbed the backpack strap of Rogers’ suit, and pulled the man down to press their lips together, his other hand immediately going to roam where he had been wanting to roam all day; getting a handful of that peachy ass. He let out a sound of surprise; it really was as firm as it looked.

Rogers lay his large hand on the side of TJ’s face, curling to the back of his neck as to pull him in closer, pressing their bodies together, lips parting and locking back together in quick successions, his hands peeling at the suit TJ was wearing. For a moment, TJ was afraid his clothes would literally be ripped off his body, but Rogers was surprisingly gentle - though he did loose a few buttons when Rogers got frustrated it wouldn’t work along.

A second later, Rogers went as far as to grab TJ’s ass with both hands, making the smaller man squeal softly, and heaving him up onto his chest. TJ curled his legs around the other man’s waist, clinging to him like a monkey, appreciating that he could now easily bend down to kiss all over and around Rogers’ mouth, instead of having to strain his neck every time. 

“Zipper?” TJ asked, panting as he pulled back. 

“Back,” Rogers answered, before capturing TJ’s lips in another hungry kiss. 

Somewhere, TJ had been expecting the man to be a virgin or something. Wasn’t he from the forties? Didn’t they have that whole ‘no sex before marriage’ thing going on? Perhaps Rogers wasn’t as innocent as he looked, he certainly didn’t act like it. Not that TJ minded. 

He didn’t mind at all. 

[disembodiedapparition]

Limerence

Frank groaned in frustration; he needed a cigarette, like right now, but after a quick glance around the pigsty which he affectionately called his room, Frank reckoned he wouldn't be getting one anytime soon. Not that he was addicted or anything — of course not.

He just... wanted one, yeah.

I mean, Frank could totally quit anytime he wanted, it's just that he didn't want to, not yet at least. He was painfully aware of the consequences of his, um, habit, but he didn't really care. If he lived, he lived. If he died, he died. He'd probably kill himself before the drug betrayed his lungs like that anyway, if we're being honest. The ephemeral bliss was worth it.

Finding anything in his room lately had become nothing less than searching for a needle in a haystack, maybe even harder, Frank thought as he agitatedly glared at the offending piles of dirty laundry and cigarette butts (among others) that littered his bedroom floor.

Despite the mess, Frank set out on mission impossible, desperate for his daily fix of nicotine, his head throbbing as the craving intensified. Goddamn it, why were minors banned from buying their own cigarettes? Frank was finding it increasingly difficult to cope with the limited supply of one pack a week that his friend Bob provided him with in return for Bob's completed English homework sheets - especially considering the fact that Frank pretty much lost everything that wasn't physically attached to him on a keyring, or something.

He huffed, glaring at the vermillion and black artwork he'd pinned up on his wall — not by him, of course. He could barely surpass a 5-year-old's art skills — but by his extremely talented boyfriend, Gerard Way; a college dropout/artist/Frank's number one smoking buddy. Frank's mom didn't really approve of Gee's "negative influence" over her only son, but hey, Frank was almost 18 and technically he could do whatever he wanted.

Right? Frank wasn't stupid, he knew what he was doing.

Speaking of the devil; a distinct thud resonated through his room, a sound he'd come to associate with Gerard - seriously, the kid was incapable of using a doorbell or something, he was always flinging rocks at Frank's poor bedroom window. But then again, Gerard usually showed up at Frank's around two in the morning, and he was sure his mother wouldn't be all that pleased when she blearily opened their honeywood front door to find some punk kid smoking a cigarette waiting for her at that ungodly hour.

Another thud echoed through his room, causing Frank to roll his eyes, and mutter an incomprehensible 'I'm coming!' under his breath. He cracked the rusty window open a notch, to see his favorite 22-year-old, clad in black from head to toe (Frank wasn't even surprised anymore) and his messy black head of hair sprawled across his forehead like he'd just ran a marathon through the jungle or some shit.

"Gerard?" he called, though he could clearly see his face thanks to the dim streetlights stationed at regular points on the street. I mean, what else was he supposed to say?

"Yeah, Frank, it's me. Let me in, it's fucking cold out here," Gerard replied, theatrically shivering as if he'd been standing in the middle of the Antarctic, when in reality Frank was certain the temperature was just around basic autumn weather, but whatever.

"It's two in the fucking morning," he said, but opened his window anyway. Gerard climbed the conveniently placed apple tree in the Ieros' backyard, and rolled his grimy body into Frank's room. He smelled of coffee and... well, freshness, if that made sense, at least in comparison to Frank's stuffy bedroom air (the windows were shut because, though it was fall, it still was pretty chilly). Petrichor was the word, if Frank remembered correctly - Gerard had told him once that it meant the scent of the earth just after it rained, that was the same thing, wasn't it?

Gerard dusted himself off, and tiny flakes of fallen autumn leaves crackled off his lint covered sweatshirt and onto the carpet — great, that would be hell to clean up later - but Frank didn't mind much, because at least Gerard was here, right? The newcomer grinned at Frank, as a breath of smoke from a cigarette that Frank hadn't even noticed puffed out from Gerard's pink lips. Which didn't really help with Frank's attempts to survive without one, considering the fact that his inhalation of the substance subsided his migraine significantly, as if his body were physically encouraging him to just fucking smoke already.

"Gee, please tell me you'll let me have a smoke, I haven't had one all day and I'm just — ugh."

Gerard giggled at Frank's flustered request, and pulled out a pack of Marlboro Red and an edgy looking Nirvana lighter before handing it to Frank, who just breathed out in relief.

"Thank you, I love you, fuck," he exclaimed, desperately igniting one of the poison sticks and bringing it to his lips, and sighing as he let the caliginous vapor flow from his mouth.

"You look beatific," Gerard mellifluously laughed, and Frank laughed too, though he didn't know what the fuck Gerard meant by that — perks of dating a guy who majored in English for 3 years, I guess.

He gazed into Gerard's pelagic eyes, appearing lagoon green in the dim light; another thing he loved about Gerard was how his irises seemed to magically change colors depending on the amount of light flashing into them. I mean, totally rad! Added to the whole vampire-esque vibe Gerard gave off, what with his incredibly pale skin tone and blood-red lips, and even changing eye colors - Frank was dating a superhuman, I swear.

Frank's eyes were just a plain dull brown, unfortunately. He honestly didn't know what Gerard saw in him. Not that he was complaining, it's just that Gerard could literally get any homosexual guy in the tiny town of Edison to go out with him, and why he chose Frank of all people puzzled him. He really was nothing special, anyway.

Gerard smiled at the seventeen-year-old, his tiny teeth visible as he made the facial gesture.

"So, Frankie, what do you want to do today?" he energetically asked, making Frank snort - Gerard was literally an owl, personified, because like, it was two in the morning! And he was acting like it was the start of a brand new sunny day, and that they were a couple of adventurers ready to explore the wilderness or something (or maybe the nicotine was just getting to him, yeah, that was probably it).

"I don't know, I'm just hungry," Frank admitted, and Gerard's face lit up.

"The boardwalk! Frank, tonight's even the firework display — it'll be great," Gerard exclaimed, ebullience literally radiating from him, and the idea filled Frank with delirium; he'd never really been to the boardwalk of New Jersey before, his mom had told him it was dangerous and therefore out of bounds. The thought of going anyway was exhilarating, to be honest, so he nodded vigorously, thrilled to be going out on an actual date with his boyfriend.

Gerard cracked his boyfriend's abused window open, cringing as it slowly creaked into the atmosphere, before quietly sneaking out the same way he'd gotten in, so stealthily that Frank was certain that any passerbys would've mistaken him for some kind of petty burglar trying to steal from some teenage kid who lived in the attic of his house.

Frank tried his best to mimic his furtiveness, not that it was plausible that anyone would try to stop them as such, but just because it felt fucking cool. Yeah, they were that extra.

The raven-haired boy shuffled to his black Cadillac (which was all patched up, nearly falling apart to tell the truth) and strung his seatbelt across his chest as it chafed with the fabric of his black Iron Maiden t-shirt. Frank got in next to him, and holy shit, he loved every scent relating to Gerard ever, and his car was no exception - especially considering it radiated a smell you'd associate with buttered toast, or pancakes, and it was the safest smell honestly. Frank felt at home with him, and so happy, nothing even compared to the enthrallment he felt with his boyfriend. Which was kind of pathetic, I suppose, if you consider those self-help speakers who always tell you to 'never let your happiness be dependent on others!', but who cared?

Ah, the art of self-destruction.

He could literally see the exhausted car quivering as Gerard tried to null it into starting up, which may or may not have involved kicking and a few depreciating syllables, but the secondhand vehicle eventually succumbed to Gerard's harassment and the roar of a badly maintained engine resonated through the air, accompanied by a 'fucking finally!' from its driver.

———————————————————————

Frank immediately knew they had arrived at the carnivalesque seashore area, though his eyes were shut tight from the harsh blows of the cold wind; the redolent aromas of popcorn stands, caramel apples, and pizza engulfed his senses, and the chatter of the hundred or so individuals who'd been reckless enough to show up at this hour met his ears. A soft rhapsody floated through the air in uneven waves through a pair of worn speakers, David Bowie, Frank figured. He'd been around Gerard Way for far too long to be unable to recognize one of the singer's songs even from a mile away.

"We're here!" Gerard stated the obvious, smiling like a child. Frank could definitely see how much Gee loved the boardwalk; he'd even dropped his "cool dude" facade and replaced it with the air of a little kid in a toy store, and Frank would definitely be lying if he said it wasn't like, the most adorable thing ever.

They got out of the ancient ebony car, Gerard not even bothering to lock it; if anyone tried to steal it, they'd cause such a ruckus and take so much time to even get the engine running that they'd barely get out of the parking spot before Gerard would show up, yelling obscenities. Penumbras shadowed Gee's features almost surreptitiously, thanks to the shifty luminance of the electric lamps diffusing into the night sky.

They wandered around the various food stalls, stopping at a liquor store, selling interestingly named margaritas and shots, obviously intriguing Gerard.

"Oh my god, Frank, look, they have a kiwi margarita!" the older boy commented, pointing at a neon green brew of alcohol with effervescence bubbling out of it in a teenager's hand. Frank scrunched his nose.

"That looks radioactive," he remarked, widening his eyes, and the latter just rolled his eyes.

"You are so uncultured," he declared, sticking his nose up slightly in the air. "I'll let you know that that beverage is actually forty dollars, definitely a top-notch drink."

"And unaffordable," Frank retorted, empowered with the knowledge that Gee would probably have enough cash to down like, two shots of that, at the very most, and then he'd meet with a very uncomfortable financial situation. He giggled as his boyfriend flipped him off in response.

An iridescent glowing sign flashed the words 'Pencey's Ice Cream' in big, bold, capital letters, immediately attracting the attention of the younger of the duo. Gerard followed the platinum streaked boy's gaze to the sign, rolling his eyes.

"Ice cream?" he sarcastically proposed, and Frank retaliated by punching him in the arm; not that it hurt, Frank was too tiny to cause much damage to the older boy, but just for the sake of it.

Together they strolled into the parlor, which totally gave off a 90's vibe, which Gerard seemed to like — judging by the way he glanced around in fascination at the vermillion and pearl striped borders, and the mint green and cotton candy pink machinery propped against the walls.

A smiling teen greeted them as the door chime jingled, and Frank noted that her name was Jenna, from her rather smudged name tag.

"Hi, what would you guys like today?" she greeted, as the dark-haired boy smiled at Frank.

"What would you like, princess?" Gerard pressed, evoking a fierce blush.

"Uhmmm, coffee walnut," he stated. "No, cookie dough! And um, chocolate sprinkles, and, uhhh... caramel syrup," he concluded, Gerard trying to contain his laughter.

"You're gonna get fat!" he groaned, however Frank just shrugged and watched eagerly as Jenna compiled his rather complicated ice cream order.

"Fat and happy." he retaliated, sticking his tongue out, while Gerard amusedly snorted at his kindergartener-like behavior. Jenna smiled at them, and let them know that they were undoubtedly the cutest couple she'd ever seen, which definitely did not make Frank blush. No way.

Gerard ordered some kind of fancy-sounding cherry jubilee thing, since Gerard was the most extra guy he'd ever met — classy or go home, right? That was probably Gerard's motto in life, considering the theatrics Frank had to put up with every day. Not that he really minded, though.

They held their ineffably good desserts in hand as they made their way to the wooden planks that loosely hung over the ocean water, sitting down. Their dangling legs were centimeters away from getting drenched in the cold icy seawater, and their faces were constantly being sprayed with splashes of salty, burning droplets of the ocean — yet Frank was okay with it. Honestly, Frank was up for anything as long as he had Gerard next to him; they could fucking skydive into the depths of hell, for all he cared. Or maybe that was too dramatic, he thought, before realizing that if it had been humanly possible Gerard would've done it ages ago.

The fiery pits of hell seemed edgy enough for Gerard's taste.

Gerard turned to Frank, a hesitant smile on his face. His lips opened to say something, before he was interrupted by a heart-stopping explosion that filled the air, startling Frank and causing him to jerk his head up in the direction the explosion seemed to come from.

Sparks of envious greens and deep blues flew through the charcoal sky, leaving smoky gray trails as they cascaded into the ocean. Glowing splinters of reds, oranges, purples and yellows followed next, patterning themselves into symmetrical patterns of light. Their iridescent colors illuminated Gerard's face, Frank noticed as he watched a firework explode in the reflection in his boyfriend's fascinated orbs.

Gerard must have been able to feel Frank's gaze, because moments later, he turned to the tattooed boy, his lips giving way to a smile, painted rather endearingly in the pulsating lights.

"They aren't nearly as resplendent as you are," he whispered, and Frank rolled his eyes, internally of course. Gerard loved using words Frank had never heard before in his life, but for now he decided to assume it meant something nice and ignore it.

He connected his cold lips with Gee's warm, welcoming ones, his heartbeat quickening when the latter's arm wrapped around his small waist, pulling him closer. He still tasted like nicotine and alcohol of some kind, he could feel the bitter taste engulfing his mouth, but it evaporated — everything evaporated — when Gee broke contact and whispered breathily in Frank's left ear.

"I'm in love with you."

[adrenaline-roulette]

Four Eighths

Pairing: Four x Eight (Reader) Word count: 6K+ Warnings: Language, drinking, teasing, smut. I told you we would be getting to the smut, just gotta have some patience is all! *Disclaimer.  I’m so sorry there has been such a long break between chapters for this story. Some of you may be aware, I’m a healthcare worker, and with Covid-19 at the moment, work has gotten extremely intense and busy as of late. And I just haven’t had the chance to write as much as I would like too!

Catch up on Chapters One Two Three Four Five Six

Chapter Seven: Sex on the beach

The scent of Four’s mint toothpaste washes over you, the warmth of his breath caressing your lips. If either one of you were to lean in just slightly, your lips would touch, and heaven knows just how amazing that would feel! You can barely keep your eyes open, your lids fluttering on their own accord every few seconds. Slowly, as if he were doing it just to spite you, Four leans in, your already impossibly close lips now a mere hair width apart. It’s happening, he’s going to kiss you surely, you just know it! “You’re wasting the hot water.”

You blink your eyes open rapidly, pupils widening in shock at the words Four had just uttered. You had expected something sweet, maybe a term of endearment before the main event, but oh no, why would anything go your way?! “I beg your pardon?”

He’s grinning now, that damned infuriating cocky smirk that seems to be reserved solely for you. “I said, you’re wasting the hot water. You’re not the only one who will want a shower today.” He steps back from you, leaving the space he had occupied feeling cold and empty.

You can hear his words echoing around inside your skull but you can’t seem to quite understand them, your brain far too frazzled from the daydream it had conjured up. Soft lips locked with yours, fingers gripping curled blonde locks as your bodies press against the bathroom wall….. “Hot water?”  You sound like an idiot, and with the glazed far off look in your eyes, you certainly look the part too.

Four shakes his head, shaggy hair swaying as he does so, his sparkling eyes meeting yours one last time. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, and he’s loving it. “Have a shower Eight.” He takes a few steps backwards, watching you intently before turning on the spot and marching out of the women’s bathroom.

You feel all the air leave your lungs the moment Four exits, your brain beginning to unscramble itself slowly. “That mother fu- I’ll kill him one day, I’ll bloody do it!” You mutter as you untangle your towel and step into the steady stream of water feeling the now lukewarm spray surround you. He was right though, not that you would admit it, the water was far less warm than it was when you had started, and it was only growing progressively colder.

*****  

“Are you guys actually taking me to a bar, or am I about to be murdered in the desert?” You hiss under your breath, turning a sideways glance to Five as she walked besides you. Ahead of you, bunched together were Four, One and Seven, and just behind you were Two and Three.

“Now why would I answer you truthfully?  If we were going to murder you, where would the fun be in having you know the plan?” Five smirks, patting you on the shoulder lightly, her nails scraping against the faded denim jacket you had hoisted on, on your way out of your trailer.

There’s no stopping your eyes rolling, a snort of a laugh breaking the silence which had settled over the ragtag group. Five grins at the sound just as the men ahead of you look behind themselves to see who had made the noise. Your hands fly up to your face, clasping over your mouth and nose, there’s no questioning who had snorted. “Real lady like Eight.” One grins, the look only broadening as a blush creeps up your face.

“Fuck you! I’m very dignified I’ll have you know!”

“Well clearly! I mean, with language like that I don’t see how there was ever any doubt?” Four jumps in, his eyes meeting yours instantly. His left hand it balled into a loose fist by his chin, with his thumb resting against his lower lip. The pose only causes your attention to be drawn to his lips once again, and if the gleam in his crystal eyes was anything to go off of, Four knows exactly what he was doing. Your mind is back in the bathroom, you can practically feel the steam of the shower surrounding you, and the heat is only slightly less than that of the heat you could feel from his body.

“Hey, to get to the bar you actually need to walk.” Five raises her brows at you, now a fair distance ahead of you, even Three and Two had surpassed you. Blinking rapidly, you look behind you to ensure that the couple had in fact walked past you, when had that happened? When had you stopped walking?

“Sorry, I – I actually have no excuse for that…” You shrug, power walking to catch up with Five once again. No one else seemed to have noticed your sudden inability to walk, or at the very least they all had the good grace to not mention it directly to you, which was perfectly fine by you, it meant that the silence which had fallen over the group allowed you time to plot. If this was how Four wanted to play things, then fine, so be it! Two can play at this game.

*****  

The bar was quite literally in the middle of nowhere, and despite the fact that you had driven past it on numerous occasions, you had never known it to be anything other than an old farmhouse. It certainly looked the part, but you had never seen it at night, and the appearance had changed entirely when you finally arrived. It appeared to be a popular spot for truckers to stop for a couple of rounds, before retiring to their trucks for the night, then starting their journey once again come daybreak. A large green neon sign sat in one of the windows, flashing ‘Open’ to any passersby, and you found after staring at the sign for too long you had begun to form a migraine.

“If you’re finished looking around, we can actually go inside.” Four was behind you, standing close enough that you could actually feel him pressed against your back, as his voice whispered against your ear.  The gentle breath of his voice was enough to cause your hair to tickle the shell of your ear as he spoke.

You turn on the spot, your resolve growing rapidly by the minute, he’s not the only one who can tease. The look of surprise on his face was almost enough to cause you to grin, but you school your features before he can catch on. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and you carefully monitor as Four’s eyes follow the motion intently, his eyes growing dark at the simple movement. “I was just about to head in. I’ll see you in there.”  You practically purr, making a show of moving just a fraction closer to him, so your chests were pressed together for just the briefest of moments. Moving away you swear your heart is about to leap out of your chest, given it was beating so rapidly. There’s a part of you that considers turning back to look at Four, but you think better of it, and considering you can’t hear him moving yet you can only assume he was struggling to process what had just happened. As if to add insult to injury, you add in just a little extra sway to your walk, your hips moving in an overtly sexual manner.

The interior of the bar was exactly how you would imagine, varying shades of brown bricks lined the walls halfway, meeting with gray corrugated steel before tapering off into chocolate brown skirting boards. The floor matched that of the skirting, but had obvious sun stains from where the hot desert sun had streaked in through the large windows. Sitting against the furthest wall was the bar itself, with shelves upon shelves packed with all assortments of liquor, and surrounding it were dark gray bar stools, with faded maroon cushions. A pool table sat in one corner, with a small congregation of people milling around, some with a pool cue, and others not. Hanging on the wall above the pool table was a decently sized television, which appeared to be airing the top ten touchdowns of the last decade. In the opposite corner was a jukebox which had definitely seen better days, though still managed to play a crackly version of 1985.  Small circular wooden tables were scattered around the bar, the chairs surrounding them were similar to those at the bar only the cushions were a navy-blue fabric. Finally, set up along the opposite wall to the bar were multiple booths, made of the same chocolate wood as the floor, and covered in maroon cushions.

Taking up one booth sat the Ghosts, all cramped together like a tin or sardines. On one side sat Two pressed up against the wall with Three beside her, and Seven on the edge. The opposite side had One against the wall, Five in the middle, and space for you to sit beside her. “Took you long enough, where have you been?” One smirked, peering at you from over the top of Five’s head.

You shrug lightly, dumping your small purse on the ground and sliding into the seat beside the Doctor. “Just looking around is all, I’ve never been here before remember.” You chew on your lower lip for a moment, opting to keep your next words silent, though it doesn’t stop you from thinking them –‘May never come back either, depending on how the mission goes.’

“Lay off, besides if you’d care to notice, Eight isn’t the only one who’s late to arrive.” Three chuckles, jerking his head towards the blonde who was striding over to your booth. Once stood at the head of the table, you watch carefully as his eyes passed over your group, irises growing dark as they fall and linger on you. You very nearly blush under his intense gaze, but your willpower holds up, and soon enough Four is averting his gaze from your heated one.

“Sorry mate, you’ll have to drag a chair over from another table.” Seven shrugs, drumming his calloused fingers against the sticky tabletop.

Four does as suggested, but not before making his complaints known. “We never used to have to bring extra chairs around, six people fit just fine at one booth.”  To the others, Four appeared totally serious in his grumbling, however you knew differently. As he walked over to another table, his shoulders remained slightly slumped, a sure way to know he was feeling comfortable and relaxed, if he were truly put out by the need of grabbing a chair, his entire body would’ve tensed up.

Once Four had situated the chair at the head of the table, two things happen. Thing one, his chair is closer to your side of the booth, and you realise that you only have to move your leg slightly to touch him, and thing two comes in the form of One making an announcement. “Who’s getting the first round then?”

Your eyes grow wide at his words, and they dart around at the others at the table frantically. No one seemed surprised like you, or if they are, they are far better at hiding it. “I – I didn’t bring any money with me….” You whisper to Five, who only smiles softly in response.

She turns her head to whisper her reply against your ear, and in the moment you look to Four, lifting one brow and smirking at the blonde. He can’t keep his eyes off you, and you suddenly realise that perhaps by taking control outside just before, you had turned him on more than initially intended. “Oh no, he doesn’t mean it like that. One always pays, we just all take it in turns of going up to the bar to order.”

You breathe an audible sigh of relief, brushing your hair back behind your ear as you do so. “I’ll go, if no one else will offer?” You smirk, already starting to stand from the booth, pressing both palms against the table to push yourself up.

One slides his card across the table, a move that would’ve looked undoubtedly cool if it weren’t for the fact that it got caught on a dried ring of soda on its way across to you. Resulting in Three picking the card up and passing it to you instead. “Does anyone have any orders in particular?”

“You get to order for the table, that’s one of the rules with these final briefing drinks. Whoever goes up to order, gets to decide on what we all drink. At least for that round.” Two smiles, the harsh lines around the corners of her lips softening for a moment. There’s no stopping the grin which slides across your lips, your eyes casting across the people you had begun to call your friends. Finally, they land on Four, who was doing an excellent job of pretending to be engrossed in a conversation with Seven. A plan was forming in your mind, a plan which if all went well, would result in Four doing practically anything for you.

Sliding away from the booth, you pocket One’s card, being sure to brush your arm against Four’s shoulder as you walk by him, heading over to the bar.  In the few short minutes you had been sat with the Ghosts, the bar had grown progressively busier, most tables now occupied, and a small crowd gathered around the bar itself. You wait patiently for your turn to order, grinning at the woman who serves you. “What can I get ya lovey?” She smiles, deep set lines around her eyes and mouth showing she seemed to have spent a great deal of her life smiling.

You know exactly what to order, and the woman nods her head, brunette ponytail swinging behind her, as she turns to work on your order.  When the drinks are finished, she sets them down on a black plastic circular tray. “You guys going to be ordering a lot tonight?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah we’re going to be here for a pretty long time I think.”

“Keep the tray then, just bring it up each time you order so we can use it again for ya.” She grins at you, picking up the card reader from bellow the bar and handing it to you, where you tap One’s card and await the ‘beep’ of approval.  “Enjoy sweetie!”

You can’t help but return the woman’s infectious smile, awkwardly picking up the tray and balancing it over both hands. The tray was full with three different sizes of glasses, had you gone slightly overboard with the first round of drinks? Maybe… But to be fair, whenever you would go out with your friends when you were alive, they used to always complain that you ordered boring drinks for the first round. Arriving back at the booth, you stand beside Four, bending over to place the tray on the table. Perhaps you were being over the top with your blatant teasing, but when your hip brushes against the side of his torso and you feel his entire body stiffen against you, you know you’re doing the right thing… Or at the very least, the fun thing!

“Fuck yeah! Look at you little Miss life and soul of the party!” Three cheers, clapping his hands together twice as the conversations at the table fall silent, all eyes watching as you distribute the drinks. Seven shots of tequila are passed around, until one rests before everyone, then comes the main event. A glass of Kraken rum and coke for yourself, two glasses of Wild Turkey American Honey on ice each for One and Seven. Corona with lemon for Three and one with lime for Two, and a glass of Malibu on ice for Five. And finally, the piece de resistance, one sex on the beach for Four.

Four stares at the peach coloured cocktail, the slice of orange, and maraschino cherry seeming to mock him from their decorative position. “I- uh… What?”

“Don’t be shy Padme! We all know how much you like peach flavoured things! And besides, you mentioned a while ago that you’d never tried sex on the beach, and well, you’re missing out…” Your voice grew low as you sat back down, and you pay no mind to everyone’s eyes watching you and Four’s interaction.

“I don’t believe cocktails were the topic of that particular conversation…” He whispers, biting down on his lower lip, as his eyes gloss over.

There’s no use in saying anything else, words were pointless at this stage, you had Four exactly where you wanted him. His mind was somewhere far away from the bar, likely somewhere on a beach… Once settled back down, you smile to yourself, turning your attention to the others at the table as Four remains silent. “What shall we drink to?”

The others do a good job at pretending they hadn’t witnessed what has transpired between you two, though you were positive Five had some questions for you, though you knew she would pick what would likely be the most inconvenient time to ask them. “How about we drink to a good mission? Seems appropriate?” Seven offers, his eyes darting between the dazed Four, and the grinning you.

One nods his agreement as you pass him his card back, his head nodding in thanks as he pockets it. “Sounds like a good reason to drink to me!”

“As if you need a reason.” Three smirks, quirking his brows.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Children please, this is a public place. One of the few public places in the area we are still welcome in might I add. If you want to fight, save it for when we get back home. But just so you are both aware, I refuse to patch either of you up if you hurt yourselves!” Five warns, her deep brown eyes cast in a firm, almost maternal glare.

Both men stop their bickering, looking like scorned children. “So, to a successful mission then?” Two pipes up, raising her shot glass into the air.

Five other glasses rise into the air, all eyes turning to Four, who had not yet raised his glass. “Psst, Skywalker, we’re making a toast.” You mock whisper. The blonde blinks rapidly, shadowed eyes meetings yours as he reaches for his shot, before raising it up.

“Let us drink to a successful mission. Eight, I know we’ll get the Lushnick’s, I promise you we will!” Two nods, a half smile tugging the corner of her lips.

“To killing the Lushnick’s!” You chime in, keeping your voice low enough so only your group could hear you.

“To killing the Lushnick’s!” Six voices echo, before you all down your tequila shots.

*****

From the first round onwards, the joke of buying Four a sex on the beach had stuck, the only time he was allowed to drink anything different was when it was his turn to order, and he had returned with an Evan Williams over ice. It was adorable to see what he returned with for you, it was almost as if he was trying to get back at you by placing a fruit tingle on the table. The lilac and blue cocktail a stark contrast to the various glasses of whiskey which sat before the other Ghosts.  “Oh Four! How did you know?” You cooed, batting your lashes up at him.

“Know what?” His lips were parted in a perfect ‘o’, and the look of confusion on his features was to die for.

“That I love fruit tingles!” You lean forward, creeping your hand across the table so you could rest it over the top of his knuckles, clasping your fingers around his for a few seconds. “In fact, if it weren’t for a fruit tingle, I never would’ve gotten laid… Hmmm, James, now he was something special.”

Just as quickly as you had placed it there, you pull your hand away from Four, before anyone else at the table could notice. At this point however, you would hardly care if someone did mention your actions, they were having the desired effect on Four, and that was all that mattered. Four had barely been able to sit still from the moment you had first returned with the drinks, he would squirm in his seat, and flush whenever he caught your eyes lingering on him for longer than would usually be considered appropriate.

One returned with a new round of drinks a short while later, once again depositing the same cocktail before Four, who no longer wore a look of disgruntlement when he looked at the peach drink. In fact, he went straight for the straw, taking a deep drink immediately. A small smirk quirks your lips as you watch him, and beneath the table you rub your foot against his ankle, kicking your shoe off awkwardly to achieve a small amount of skin to skin contact. “So tell us Eight, how exactly did One find you?” Three asks, clasping his fingers together, and locking them under his chin.

Your eyes drag away from Four, casting across the table before finally settling on One, a wicked grin tugging at your lips. “Oh, I was robbing One’s bank account for a while. So basically, he hired me so I would stop stealing from him.” You shrug.

There’s an eerie silence which befalls the table, suddenly all eyes are focused on you with a great deal of interest. “Hold up, that was you who was draining his account?” Two gasps, her eyes shining bright with glee.

“Heh, yeah, it was! So now instead of stealing his money, he pays me to be here.”

“Eight, you’re my fucking hero!” Five squeals, wrapping one arm around you in a side hug.

“What? Why?” There’s no hiding the look of confusion which crosses you features at Five’s outburst.

Seven, as always was the voice of reason, his soothing voice carrying over the laughter which was chorusing over the table. “Do you have any idea how confused and upset One was? The entire time you were taking his money, he would write up on the board in the briefing room his bank balance each week. At first, it was only going down by a little bit, but then I guess you got a little too bold, because the next thing we know, One’s going around accusing us all of having stolen his card and buying useless shit!”

Now it’s your turn to laugh, bowing your head and resting your chin against the table. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again! In my defence, technically One’s dead! I didn’t think a dead man would miss his money!”

“Well this dead man, really missed his money.” One grins affectionately at you.

“So, you’re part of the team now so One can more or less babysit you, and stop you from taking any more money from him, is that right?” Three chuckles.

Your shoulders shrug half heartedly, as you slowly pick yourself up from the table. “I suppose so, not that that will necessarily stop me however.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” One cries, sloshing the amber liquid in his glass as he places it back on the table with too much force.

Beneath the table, you drag your foot further up Four’s leg, your toes brushing against his calf as you go up. “Never you mind. What I spend your money on without your permission is between me and my online shopping.”

As the conversation returns around you, you focus back on Four. Perhaps it was the copious amounts of alcohol you had consumed which made you so bold, though you would never be positive. “Do you wanna see a neat trick?”

Four’s brows crease in the middle, and he tilts his head to the side. “What are you on about?”

“You heard me! Do. You. Want. To. See. A. Trick?” You repeat, punctuating each word with your foot climbing ever further up his leg, now resting against his thigh.

You watch him gulp, his adams apple bobbing as he once again stirs in his seat. There was a blush creeping steadily further up his neck, it had started somewhere beneath his collar, and was now nearing his chin. “Sure, what’ve you got for me love?” You can see him desperately trying to regain control over this situation, but nothing was working for him, he was entirely at your mercy.

Reaching forwards, you pluck the cherry out of his glass, popping the entire thing in your mouth, stem and all. You make quick work of eating the actual cherry, before working your tongue around the deep red stem. Four can’t keep his eyes off your mouth, that is until…. You slide down your seat until you are able to reach new areas with your foot. It’s a risky move, at any moment someone either at your table, or another patron of the bar could clock on to what you were doing. But you were feeling bold, and so far, Four hadn’t voiced any complaints. Your foot creeps higher, until your toes press gently against the bulge in his trousers, an audible groan slipping from his lips. You had never done anything like this before, and you were honestly not sure what you were supposed to do next.  However, with your little trick now complete, that at least brought you some time.

Slowly, you open your mouth, pressing your tongue out slightly and presenting a carefully knotted cherry stem. This time, Four’s gasp is loud enough for the entire table to hear. “Ungh….” The knotted stem along with the gentle caress of your foot, was enough to have Four about ready to jump the table to kiss you.

“You alright there mate?” Seven asks, a genuine look of worry crossing his features. While Five simply turns to you, a knowing look dancing through her eyes.

“Ugh, yeah. I’m fine.” Four stammers out, raising a hand to brush through his hair.

Seven nods his head, though he doesn’t look entirely convinced by Four’s strained answer. Beneath the table, Four creeps his hand down to his lap, carefully wrapping his fingers around your ankle, and helping to guide your foot.  He was doing little to lessen the ever growing bulge, but he was certainly bringing himself closer to release, which was all he could really think about now.

“Oh god, this is a bit of a depressing song don’t you think?” Two sighs as cat’s in the cradle auto plays on the jukebox

“I wouldn’t go that far. Sure it’s kinda sad, but it’s pretty good…” You shrug, allowing Four to use your foot as he saw fit bellow the tabletop.

“I’m with Eight on this one, it’s a classic.” Four agrees, though his voice is strained, and there’s a guttural quality to it.

“Thank you, see great minds think alike!” You giggle, your breath hitching in your throat as Four brushes his finger along the arch of your foot.

“Great minds, or young minds?” Three smirks across at One, who both chuckle.

Five folds her arms across her chest, watching you and Four intently, before turning her gaze to One, Two and Three. Seven remained team Switzerland, though Five would settle this once and for all. “It truly is an excellent song! Come on, this is the best part too!”

All eyes are suddenly on Five, who had closed her eyes and was swaying along to the song. “And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon-”

You bite down on your lip, slowly sliding your foot out of Four’s lap and back do the floor. “Little boy blue and the man in the moon-” You join in with her.

Four shakes his head, whether it was in disappointment to the sudden lack of your contact, or the fact that all roads in his life had lead him up to this point, you would never know. He lifts one eyebrow, cocking his head to the left as he regards Seven with a half grin. “When you coming home Dad, I don’t know when-” Both men chorus in with you and Five, the four of you grinning broadly at each other.

With a defeated sigh, One, Two and Three finally give in, joining with you all for the end of the chorus. “But we’ll get together then. Yeah, you know we’ll have a good time then…”

There was something bitter sweet about singing all together, the niggling thought of what tomorrow would bring slowly worked its way to the forefront of your brain. Tomorrow you would have your final briefing, and then, it would be into the lions den for all of you. For all you know, you could be about to send everyone into a suicide mission. But for now, for now there was happiness, there was signing, and if the look in Four’s eyes had anything to say, there was also lust.

There was an odd silence which fell over the group now, almost as if no one quite knew where to go next, or how to continue on from what had just happened. Ever the lady, you stand abruptly from your seat, stripping off your denim jacket, and folding it onto your seat. “I’ll be back!” You declare too loudly, shuffling away from the table and making your way through the bar.

“Is Eight only wearing one shoe?” Seven queries, frowning at your lopsided walk across the bar.

Five peers under the table, spotting your other shoe by your purse. “She sure is!”

“I’m going to get some air, I’ll be back.” Four mumbles, pushing away from the table himself, before following the same path as you a few minutes later.

Behind the bar was a door which lead to a corridor, one you hadn’t notice on your first inspection of the building. Inside stood four doors, two for the male and female bathrooms respectively, one for the cleaner’s cupboard, and another leading to apparently nowhere, at least that was your assumption, given the lack of signage. You make your way into the bathroom, taking a few minutes to check yourself over in the mirror above the sinks.  Your hair and makeup had remained relatively pristine, though there was a wild look in your eyes, one you hadn’t seen there before. Shaking your head twice, you finish off in the bathroom, before stepping out into the corridor once again. You can’t help yourself; the idea of an unmarked door was just too good of an opportunity to pass up, you simply had to find out what was behind there.

Reaching out, you pull the door open, and suddenly you’re met with a gust of cool night air, the smell of rain filling the air around you. The sky however was perfectly clear, void of any clouds, and instead, covered in a blanket of sparkling stars. Mixed with the scent of rain, was something you hadn’t smelt since you had ‘died’, the smell of cigarette smoke. Casting your gaze around at the few outdoor tables and chairs, you spot a lone figure, the puff of smoke coming from them. Stepping closer, you easily spot who it was, even in the dull light of the moon his blonde curls were easily recognisable. “Oh, how ironic. Behind door four is Four!” You laugh way too loud, especially for how terrible the pun was. But in your drunken state, to you it was the funniest thing anyone had ever said!

Four turns to look over his shoulder, a broad grin slipping across his lips as he plucks the cigarette from between them, exhaling a deep puff of smoke. “You’re missing the party inside. I think one more round of shots, and we’ll be able to convince Three to perform karaoke.

Shaking your head no, you strut over to Four, the same hip swaying you had done on the way into the bar earlier, now far less sexy, a lot more drunk. However, you made it to your destination none the less. “I think I like the party out here better.” You purr against his ear, straddling his lap as you feel Four’s hands automatically come up to rest against your waist.

Immediately, you can feel what little control he had over himself come crumbling down. His cock is pressed against the front of his trousers once more, and you grin to yourself as you make a point of circling your hips against him gently. The groan that slips from his throat is entirely pornographic, and it leaves you aching for more. “Ei-Eight…”

“Yes Four?” You giggle, circling your hips twice slowly, and once firm causing the blondes eyes to roll back in their sockets, and his head to tilt backward.

Leaning forward, you trail your tongue along his exposed throat, using the tip to follow every line carefully, until you reach his chin. “Should I go further?” You whisper, your breath fanning across his lips, just as his had back in the bathroom. The bathroom, the snake… It all felt like such a long time ago now, though it had only been hours, and not the weeks it felt like.

“God yes… Don’t stop. Please, keep going.” Four whines, his lips parting into a pout, as you press your palms against his chest, fingers clutching into the fabric of his shirt.

A wicked smirk overtakes your features, and ever so slowly you pull away, using your grip on Four’s shirt to pull him up with you. “You know, I don’t think I will actually…” With that, you carefully peel yourself off his lap, straightening yourself up, and taking a few steps away from the panting man.  “You should take a few minutes to cool down before you join us inside again.” You giggle, before turning on your heel and flouncing back inside the bar.

*****

“Why do we always insist on walking?” Five whines from the back of the group, dragging her feet through the dust as she walks.

“Well how else are we s’posed to get home? UBER doesn’t service this far out.” Two mutters, her fingers locked with Three’s as they walk at a slow pace. No one would dare say anything about their blatant display if their relationship, the only person who would was One, but he was far too drunk to even notice.

“Well somebody could drive next time!” Five suggests, her voice growing less powerful and drowsier by the second.

You look over your shoulder to the Doctor who was only a small ways behind you. “And who do you suggest stays sober to drive? Surely not you, Miss watch me do eight shots of vodka in a row!”

“Well obviously not me! How about Four? He could drive!”

Four, who had been awfully quiet since your little encounter outside, turned to look back at Five, his lips quirking as if to respond, before thinking better of it. Instead, he turned to face the front once more, picking up his pace so to arrive at base faster.

After another ten or so minutes of trudging, you a eventually make it back to base in one piece, though your aching ad blistered feet beg to differ. “Good night everyone!” Five calls out, as she hangs out of her trailer door, with one foot planted on the stairs and the other on the ground.

“Go to bed you looney!” Seven grins, waving goodbye to her.

“Sweet dreams Five.” You smile, blowing her a kiss, to which she pretends to catch.

After that, Five closes the door behind her, the lights in her trailer all turning off almost immediately. Next, Two follows Three into his trailer, neither being subtle about what was about to happen in the slightest. One stumbles into his own trailer, just as Four and Seven do the same, leaving you to find your own.

Once safely inside, you strip off your jacket and shirt, shuffling around your drawers in search of some fresh pyjamas. The door to your trailer remained open, allowing the pleasant night air to clear out the musty old air which had accumulated there. Just as you find a night shirt, you hear a voice clear behind you.

Whirling around on the spot, your hands instantly ball into fists ready to strike, only lowering to your sides when you see Four standing by your mini bar fridge. “If you thought you would tease me like that all night, and not have this coming…. Oh baby, you’ve got another thing coming.

^^^^ I’m not going to say sorry for yet another cliffhanger... Besides, I think we all know where we’l be headed in chapter eight (If you’re expecting anything other than smut, you will be sadly mistaken)

Four Eighths Taglist: @sj-thefan​  @not-the-cleavers @jinxfirebolt18902  @softnorris  @dear-vista  @mixer2b @rintheemolion  @shane-isa-shame  @keithseabrook27  @tealaquinn​  

 If you would like to be added just let me know!

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Chapter Eight now up!

[renjinobankai]

Another byaren fanfiction I found

Joy (joyinthedance)

2006-06-11 23:42:00

Title: “Captain Material”

Characters: Byakuya x Renji

Rating: NC-17, maybe.

Word Count: 2490

Warnings: Spoilers through end of Soul Society arc, and oh yeah, yaoi.

Disclaimer: If these guys were my property, I’d be happy for life. ^_^

Summary: This is just my take on how the definition of hotness (aka ByaRen) began.

Damn that Kurosaki Ichigo! Thanks to the boy’s interruption that day in the healing ward, Abarai Renji had never told his captain the really cool line that had been on the tip of his tongue. Afterwards, he had chickened out and made up some throwaway comment, because really, it didn’t sound that cool. It sounded pathetic. Pathetic to think that a street rat from Rugonkai could so much as lay a finger on the Kuchiki heir without throwing off the balance of the universe, much less confess the fact that his long obsession with surpassing his captain was more than mere rivalry. Renji was certainly competitive, but this passion went deeper than a drive to be the best, deeper even than the desire to show the frustratingly snobby noble that class did not determine ability. He had never realized what his feelings meant until Rukia’s rescue, but now it was impossible for him to deny them. However bitterly, however hopelessly, it was true: Renji was in love with Kuchiki Byakuya.

* * *

The Sixth Division captain was seated at his desk, facing a tidy but daunting stack of paperwork. Business had just begun to return to normal after the chaos surrounding the Aizen debacle, and the serious injuries both he and his lieutenant had suffered only compounded the problem. Being behind drove Byakuya crazy, but it wasn’t just his work that was bothering him. Somehow, something else felt unfinished, but what that was exactly was dangling just out of reach of his consciousness. He tried to concentrate, but his pen slipped and spattered ink across the page. With a silent curse he crumpled the paper and cast it into the empty wastebasket he seldom had the need for. He closed his eyes, trying to relax his furrowed brow and cleanse his mind of thoughts, but it was feelings, not thoughts, that were distracting him. He should have been able to suppress the beginnings of emotion before they even registered, but he found he could not. They bubbled up to mar the calm surface of the clear pool of his inner world, forming an image out of recent memory: Abarai Renji, his fiery hair pooling about his body like the blood he lay in, eyes fierce with a resolve unbroken by defeat. Again Byakuya felt the sensation grip him, a profound and conflicted intermingling of feelings, some of which he barely recognized as belonging to him…

“Taichou!” a familiar voice barked, and Byakuya’s eyes snapped wide open. Renji took a step back; it threw him off to see the usually imperturbable man appear so startled, almost embarrassed. Before the lieutenant could let out his breath, however, Byakuya had composed himself completely.

“Renji.” There was something unusual about the captain’s tone, but Renji couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I just thought I’d bring you some – ” Renji was struck suddenly by the way the moonlight illuminated the sleek black hair and the gleaming kenseikan that bound it. In that moment Byakuya seemed to be composed entirely of soft light and stark shadows…such ethereal beauty disarmed him.

“—uh, tea.” Renji finished, flustered. He quickly set the cup down on the desk, hoping the captain couldn’t detect the slight trembling of his hand that almost made the steaming liquid slosh over the rim and onto Byakuya’s meticulous work.

Byakuya’s face didn’t change, but he took the drink gingerly and immediately took a long sip. He was exhausted, Renji realized. Only with the recent chain of events had he begun to understand the burden that the older man carried and the strain he hid behind his aloof countenance.

“Thank you,” Byakuya said, setting the cup down and once again taking up his pen. It was a signal for his subordinate to leave, but Renji lingered.

“It’s late, Taichou. I was wonderin’ how long you were plannin’ to work tonight. I know you don’t wanna, but you need rest. You still haven’t completely recovered from your wounds.”

Byakuya raised one eyebrow as if to say that he had more than recovered, thank you, and that Renji should speak for himself.

Renji looked away. “Well I’m gonna head off to bed.”

Byakuya took another silent sip of his tea, but he didn’t take his eyes off the lieutenant. “Goodnight, Renji.”

Dammit! Renji thought as he closed the door behind him. Why does he always have to make things so damn awkward? They had never exactly been friends, but now that they had faced each other as enemies, a fog of unresolved tension had settled over their every interaction. Renji had grown accustomed long ago to the icy glares and disdainful words, but this was different. He couldn’t tell how Byakuya’s estimation of him had changed, or if it even had. Though Byakuya had ultimately come around to Renji’s point of view, the fact remained that the lieutenant had defied his captain and misjudged his character. Now that he understood Byakuya’s motivations better, Renji felt slightly ashamed of his rash actions. Not that he had done the wrong thing, he was sure of that, but he wondered whether he had done it the wrong way. Had he heard an extra helping of condescension in the noble’s voice as he pronounced his name? Or…could it possibly have been a trace of tenderness?

No, no, no! Renji thought. I can’t kid myself like that. Facing out from the balcony, he looked down at the lamplit streets of the Seireitei below him, and beyond that, Rugonkai…and above it all, the thin pale moon. He could not understand how two people could work together so closely and yet maintain such an insurmountable gulf between them, which he was not sure was growing or receding. Certainly it had widened as their ideological conflict had come to a head, and yet, in certain moments since then, the barrier had seemed to give way ever so slightly, like a veil fluttering in the wind. It was these fleeting glimpses that fed Renji’s desire. He wanted to have physically what he knew he could never have emotionally – that is, nothing between them. He sighed and turned around to leave, then stopped with a start as he found himself face to face with the very object of his thoughts. “K-kuchiki-taichou!” he stammered.

Byakuya looked only slightly surprised to see his lieutenant loitering outside his door. “Is there something you want, Renji?”

You bet there is, Renji thought, imagining himself pouncing on the unsuspecting Byakuya and pinning him against the door with a passionate kiss. How glorious it would be to cup that porcelain jawline in his hand, to weave his fingers thorough that night-black hair, to gleefully and spitefully and lovingly defile the captain’s untouchable dignity with his own raw and feral passion. Except, he realized suddenly, he was not imagining this at all. He was kissing Byakuya, and rather intensely at that.

Now you’ve done it, Renji you fool, he scolded himself as his tongue explored the warm recesses of his astonished captain’s mouth. You’re going to get yourself Senbonzakura’d to shreds again. But in that moment, it was worth it. Byakuya wasn’t exactly kissing back, but that didn’t matter. Just the sweetness of penetrating those perfect lips was enough. Renji kept his eyes closed, fearing that if he opened them he would wake from a dream – and also fearing to see the look on Byakuya’s face. At any rate, his other senses were giving him plenty to work with: the softness of that impeccable hair with its aroma of opulence, the flawless skin surprisingly warm under his fingers. Renji had his captain right where he wanted him, he realized with a thrill of delight. He had never felt so powerful in his life, and this heightened his growing arousal as his hand glided beneath edges of the noble’s robes.

Unfortunately for Renji, his newfound supremacy was short lived. Suddenly he was falling forward as Byakuya’s free hand grappled for the doorknob and the door swung back open into the room, taking the two shinigami with it. The impact broke Renji’s hold on Byakuya; he opened his eyes, and their mouths parted. If he kills me right now, Renji thought, at least I’ll go with no regrets. Finally daring to look, Renji saw the slight pink flush in the captain’s cheeks, and in those bottomless eyes, a glimmer of…what?

“I suppose I should not be surprised by your want of restraint, Renji,” Byakuya said as he pushed the door shut, “but if we are to proceed, it would be unwise to do so in such a conspicuous location.” Before Renji even had time to process the other man’s words, Byakuya was returning his lieutenant’s kiss with an intensity that betrayed real feeling. Even if his tongue hadn’t been otherwise occupied, Renji would have been dumbstruck by three simultaneous realizations: one, that he was still alive; two, that the notorious ice prince seemed capable of genuine passion; and three, that he enjoyed being kissed by Kuchiki Byakuya even more than he enjoyed kissing him.

As Renji recovered from his blissful shock and responded to Byakuya’s advance, they shared a moment of heated chaos: tongues fighting for dominance, ravenous hands moving of their own accord, robes loosening and falling open around sculpted shoulders. Then, before he realized it was happening, Renji was on his back, pinned to the floor and completely bereft of control. Renji’s eyes widened; Byakuya’s narrowed. “Really, Renji,” he said archly, “don’t tell me you expecting it the other way around.” He slipped a finger under the band that held back Renji’s hair and snapped it in two, letting the brilliant locks cascade over the floor as he moved in for another kiss with fierce, efficient grace.

Now Byakuya’s own hair was unbound and both shinigami were stripped to the waist. Byakuya’s tongue began tracing Renji’s tattoos with incredible lightness, lingering at a chiseled collarbone, a taut nipple, the contours of flexed abdominals. Though his tongue was warm, its electricity sent shivers over Renji’s body. It flickered along the edge of Renji’s waistband and paused there mischievously. Then Byakuya raised his head and just looked at the lieutenant for a minute, drinking in his body with his eyes. For a moment Renji appeared transfixed by the deep blue-gray gaze; then his arm shot out to untie the captain’s hakama in one swift pull. Byakuya’s eyes widened for an instant as the garment fell down around his ankles. So did Renji’s, but for a different reason.

“Caught ya off guard, eh Taichou?” Renji started to say, but he was silenced by aristocratic lips against his own. Byakuya undid Renji’s sash with one hand and buried the other in his scarlet hair as he deepened the kiss. Renji had given up hope of regaining dominance; it was enough to know that he of all people had reduced the aloof Kuchiki heir to this primal state. Byakuya’s tongue had recommenced its calligraphic dance down his lieutenant’s body, now unencumbered by clothing, continuing downward and taking Renji’s erection into his mouth. Renji moaned and arched into the motion that sent hot waves of pleasure coursing though him. You bastard, Kuchiki, he thought as Byakuya deftly teased his arousal to new heights, you’ve totally done this before. Once again the fear he might be dreaming seized him, but never in his most private fantasies had he dared imagine this sweet delirium. Just as he was up against the very brink of release, Byakuya pulled back.

“What the hell?!” Renji cried breathlessly. “What’dja stop for?! Don’t torture me like that, Bya – gaaah!” In his indignation he had sat up too quickly, allowing Byakuya to flip him in one quick maneuver. Renji suddenly found himself face down, still throbbing with need.

“It seems you have forgotten your place, Abarai-fukutaichou,” said Byakuya, as first one, then two slick and slender fingers prepared Renji for what was to come. Even now, Byakuya’s voice kept its collected, commanding tone, but its refined edge had given way to a lustful hunger. “Do you remember when I told you the difference between you and me?”

“Yeah,” Renji answered weakly, between gasps of painful pleasure. “Level.”

“You will find, Renji, that in some things, there are only two levels. Yours – ” Renji cried out as his captain entered him, “ – and mine.” Renji’s body burned with the delicious ache of Byakuya filling him, rocking him, pressing up against the deep core of his desire. He squeezed his tearing eyes shut and his breath came in ragged moans as Byakuya drove hard into him again and again. Somewhere, he felt hands, lips, teeth, nails, heaven, pain, more heaven…everything blurring in the blinding pleasure. Years of being disparaged, reprimanded, and even imprisoned now seemed to Renji like torturous foreplay leading up to this impossible yet inevitable moment. His whole body belonged to Kuchiki Byakuya, and Renji couldn’t have wanted anything more. Their rhythm quickened, and their glistening, quaking bodies seemed to fuse together, scarcely able to contain the rising energy between them. Renji braced himself as his captain’s thrusts intensified, feeling the heat within him breach its threshold. “Byakuya – !” he managed to cry, wracked by the throes of climax. For an instant they were equals as they both came at once and collapsed on the thin carpet of discarded clothing.

They lay there, damp and fatigued and silent, as their breathing gradually returned to normal. Finally, feeling confident that it was safe to move of his own volition, Renji looked up to meet his captain’s eyes. Byakuya looked spent, and absolutely radiant. Renji had never seen him look so beautifully human. For someone who had just been ravished, Renji was feeling exceedingly proud of himself. “Well, what did you think, Kuchiki-taichou?” he asked, flashing a roguish grin. “Was I captain material?”

“Don’t be cheeky, Renji,” replied Byakuya before kissing his forehead with a touch as soft as a single cherry blossom.

Renji closed his eyes. His life had just gotten amazingly better. And, he realized, much more complicated. How were they supposed to keep this under wraps? Could he make it back to his room unseen? Where were his clothes, anyway? Oh, yeah.“Um, am I supposed to go back to my room in…this?” Renji asked, lifting up one rather wrinkled and less-than-clean sleeve of the robes they had substituted for sheets.

Byakuya looked down at his own uniform and once-pristine white captain’s cloak, which had also seen better days. Trailing a smooth hand across his lieutenant’s shoulders, he replied, “That depends on whether you decide to go back to your room.”

Renji managed to mask his giddy delight with his well-honed sarcasm. “Somehow I get the feeling this isn’t really my decision.”

“Catching on, are we?” Byakuya smirked. “You always have been a fast learner, Renji.”

Renji just smiled. Sex and a compliment from Byakuya in one night.

He wasn’t sure which surprised him more.

[alexisthedevilsfox]

Just a friend

Hi ^-^ One day, while I was enjoying a peaceful life, I heard a song that gave me an idea for a scene that I had to write immediately. 

Well... then I had that one scene but that was it.

But when @lace-maze and I talked about it, we both had some ideas, so now I have the whole story. 

Fandom: Jacksepticeye

Pairing: Schneeplebro (Chase and Henrik)

Summary:  Just a friend. That's what Chase is for Henrik, but... he wants to be more... so much more.

Warning: There is angst but don't worry, it has a happy ending. In fact, I would describe it with a sentence from Harry Potter: You're gonna suffer, but you're gonna be happy about it.

Oh also... Big thank you to Lace for being my beta and my partner in crime xD

Just a friend

Chase was a happy person. He really was. After he stopped drinking, found a therapist, and settled things with Stacy, his life began to feel more like... well, life. He could see all the mistakes he had made, but he learned to face them and solve his problems. Or at least he tried to solve them if he could. 

The green haired man also learned that he could ask his friends for help. There was always someone who was willing to help him, most of the time Henrik. The doctor was a big help and Chase had no idea what he would do without him.

The problem was that Henrik ... was the source of his sadness lately. 

They were friends for so long, that it took him two years after his divorce with Stacy to realize that he loved him as more than just a friend. But then he also realized that he probably didn't stand a chance with Henrik. Chase was a realist in this. Who would want such an emotional mess as he was? Especially Henrik, who was so damn smart, handsome and a doctor.

He was the dream of every mother who wanted to marry their daughter to a doctor. Well, actually… who wanted to marry their daughter in general.

Chase, on the other hand, was just a regular guy who liked to make stupid jokes and watch cartoons. He was nothing special, so he decided that even though he loved Henrik, he wouldn't tell him. Chase didn't want to ruin their friendship, and he was sure it would be enough for him to be Henrik's best friend.

Well... after a few months, he realized he was wrong.

Almost every time they were outside, for example for dinner or coffee, there was someone who came to them and told them that they made such a cute couple or asked them how long they had been together and he then had to listen to Henrik say quickly that they were just friends. It was as if Henrik was practicing the answer because he always told it almost the same way, without the slightest hesitation. 

At first it was fine, they even joked together that they would definitely be the perfect couple. That they would even surpass Marvin and Jackie. It was funny and he laughed at the idea of them being that picture perfect family with white picket fence and maybe a dog. 

But after a while, it stopped being funny. It started to hurt him every time he heard Henrik say, "Oh no, he's just my best friend." 

He realized that he actually wanted them to be that perfect family. It would be so easy.

His children loved Henrik, even jokingly calling him their second dad and Henrik's children called Chase "dadcle", the cutest combo of 'dad' and 'uncle' merged together. He loved them for it. It was so sweet to call him that and he would be happy to be their actual stepdad. He also knew that if he wanted it to become a reality, all he had to do was tell Henrik how he felt, but it was so fucking hard. Every time he had the words on his tongue, Henrik said the damn word starting with F, Chase just lost his courage or both options at once.

Unfortunately, this was not all. 

To make matters worse, Henrik started going out with a woman. According to what the doctor told him, her name was Grace and she was a nurse, working in the children's ward and Henrik spoke very nicely about her.

When Chase saw her for the first time, he almost cried. Her bright blue eyes looked at Henrik with love and she looked like a kind woman. 

That day he felt as if someone had ripped his heart out. Even Henrik noticed that something was really wrong and asked him what's going on. But Chase dismissed him, saying that he was just not feeling well and that he's going home. He didn't want to ruin it for Henrik, because he deserved to be happy, even if it was with someone else. Even so, it didn't change the fact that it hurt like hell. 

Because of Grace and also because of his own mental health, he began to distance himself from Henrik. He just couldn't handle being so close to him anymore. Especially when he knew that Henrik was already taken.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

One afternoon his phone rang, Henrik's name on the screen. For a moment he considered not picking it up, but he hadn't spoken to Henrik in a long time, so at the last moment he answered.

“Hi, Hen. What’s up?” he asked.

“Hello, Chase.” Henrik's slightly deeper voice came from the phone. “I've been thinking... we haven't seen each other in a long time, so what if I came to your apartment? If you have time, that is.” the doctor said.

“Uhm…” Chase had no idea what to say. He really wanted to see him but he wasn't sure if it was a good idea.

“I'll bring food. How about your favourite, Hawaiian pizza?” Henrik continued.

“But... you hate pineapple on pizza.” the green haired man mumbled.

“Yes, but I like you so I’m willing to eat that monstrosity with you.” a quiet laugh could be heard from the phone. Chase's heart skipped a beat.

“Awww… man, how did I deserve such a great sacrifice?” he asked.

“I've already said it, we haven't seen each other in a long time.” Henrik answered, and Chase was overwhelmed with guilt. It was his fault that they didn't see each other as often as before, because he couldn't deal with his own fucking feelings.

“Okay then, you can come.” the sad dad really wanted to see him again, and he wouldn't turn down the pizza either.

“Great. I'll go for the pizza and then to you. Want anything else? What if I brought donuts?” the enthusiasm in the doctor's voice was impossible to overhear, and Chase sighed.

“You missed me that much, huh?” how the hell does he have to forget how he feels about Henrik when the man does things like that?

“Yes, I did.” Henrik answered immediately, “but no more talking, bye for now and I'll see you in an hour.” he said and hung up. Chase stared at the phone for a moment, then set it down on the coffee table and looked around the living room. The room wasn't that messy, but it wasn't downright clean either, so he decided to clean up a bit. Thanks to that, he didn't even register how much time had passed and was interrupted only by the doorbell. Chase swallowed nervously and went to open the door.

Henrik looked as good as ever. Even in those worn out jeans and t-shirt, he looked like a treat.

“Hello, Chase.” the doctor smiled, a pizza box in his hands and on top of that a box from Krispy Kreme.

“Uhm… Hi. Come in.” Chase steps away from the door so Henrik can come inside. He was afraid it would be weird, but instead everything went back to normal.

They both settled in the living room and spent a good half hour arguing about what movie they should watch. When they finally decided which movie to play, they opened the pizza box and started to eat. They talked about their kids, their work and how they were doing. It was nice but then Henrik mentioned Grace.

“Uhm... how is she? How do you enjoy being in a relationship again?” Chase asked, though he didn't actually want to know.

“Oh we… we’re not together anymore.” Henrik replied. the green haired man blinked in confusion. He didn't expect Henrik to tell him they broke up.

“W… why?” he needed to know.

“Well, we realized that it doesn't work, we don't feel what we should have as a couple. Grace is more of a good friend than a girlfriend.” he shrugged. 

It seemed to Chase that Henrik didn't really mind, but he still said, “I'm sorry it turned out that way.” because what else was he supposed to say? Chase wasn't sorry at all, but that would be really rude to say, “Can I… help you somehow? Do you wanna… Get well soon card?” he joked, and Henrik rewarded him with a snort.

“No, you're helping me now. By the way, thank you for that.” the doctor smiled, “It would be easier if I could find someone as funny and kind as you.” he added, and Chase suddenly lost his words.

“I uhm… Thanks?” He replied stiffly. ‘Say it you loser. Say… Date me then.’ Chase tried to convince himself to say it out loud.

“I mean it. Who wouldn't want to date you?” Chase heard what Henrik was saying, but he still couldn't bring himself to say the words he wanted, his throat tightening with anxiety and Henrik continued, “You’re a great guy, Chase and I’m really happy that you’re my best friend.”

After these words, something snapped in Chase. The anxiety disappeared and was replaced by anger. There was that fucking word again.

Best friend.

Only a best friend.

“Yeah... best friend. That’s what I am.” he said bitterly. Henrik's blue-gray eyes looked at him with surprise.

“Did I say something wrong?” the doctor asked.

“Nothing! You didn't say anything wrong.” the green haired man snapped. He desperately needed to move, he couldn't just sit there, so he got up from the couch and started pacing back and forth through the living room. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Henrik got up too.

“Clearly, I had to say something because you're angry now. What's wrong?” there was confusion and guilt in the doctor's eyes, and Chase felt terrible, which for some reason fueled his anger even more.

“Nothing is fucking wrong, okay!?” Chase shouted, hands clenched into a fist, “Just… just go home Henrik. I… I can’t talk with you right now.” he tried to say calmly, body still shaking with anger.

“Chase, we haven't talked in a long time and now that something is obviously wrong and it looks like my fault, you don't even want to talk to me? Seriously, what’s wrong? Please, we’re friends. We can figure it out.” Henrik tried to speak softly and calmly, hoping Chase would calm down.

“Friends, huh?! Well, there’s some fucking news for you. I don’t wanna be your friend anymore!” the words fell out of his mouth too easily. Powered by anger and desperation, followed by a complete shock of what he said. Blue-gray eyes stared at him in stunned disbelief. Uncomfortable silence spread between them and the only thing Chase could hear was his own heart pounding in his ears.

“Well then… if that's what you want, then so be it” the doctor managed in a trembling voice. Chase could hear the pain in his voice but he was so shocked by his own words that his brain couldn't form a response, much less get it out of his mouth.

“Goodbye, Chase.” Henrik said as he turned to leave the room.

That finally forced Chase to act. He grabbed Henrik's hand and squeezed it tightly. “Please, wait! Don’t go,” the green haired man had no idea what he was going to do.

“What? What more do you want from me?!” Henrik looked at him and freed his hand from his grip.

“I wanna… I didn’t… I didn't mean it that way.” Chase mumbled.

“How did you mean it then?” Blue-gray eyes watched him with intensity and Chase gulped.

“I… I can’t tell you.” He tried.

“Either tell me or I'm leaving and I guarantee you we won't see each other for a long time!” The doctor said, anger slowly overtaking him. Chase looked at him desperately, his eyes filled with tears. The silence around them was almost unbearable, bright blue eyes staring into the blue-gray ones. Then Henrik shook his head and turned again to leave.

“I love you!” Chase blurted out immediately, afraid Henrik would leave, “I love you so much it hurts and I… I can’t take it anymore. I think about you almost every single day and I know I’m just a pathetic loser, but that doesn't change the fact that all I want is to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep next to you every night.” Chase completed his monologue with ragged breath, keeping his gaze on the floor while tears ran down his face. 

Silence filled the room again, but Chase couldn't stand it for long, so he started talking again.

“I’m s-sorry, Henrik. I… I know I ruined e-everything but I can’t get rid of it. I tried but… I just love you so much,” he sobbed “and I'm probably not… not your best friend a-anymore and it’s my… my fault,” finally he raised his head and looked at Henrik. The doctor looked shocked and still didn't say a word.

“Please Hen, say something... Anything. Please.” he looked at him desperately, tears still streaming down his cheeks.

“Say it again.” Henrik suddenly spoke and moved closer to him.

“Wha...what?” came the shaky question.

“Say you love me.” Henrik reached out and wiped away his tears with his thumb. A shiver passed through Chase's body.

“I… I love you.” he said it much more quietly now, voice trembling. Bright blue eyes watched a small smile appear on Henrik's face.

“I love you too.” Henrik replied softly.

“You… you do?” the disbelief in his voice could be clearly heard.

“Yes.” a simple answer followed by Henrikd’s hands, which took his face, pulled him as close as possible and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. Chase squeaked in surprise but as soon as Henrik began to pull away, he grabbed his shirt and pulled him back for another kiss.

“Please, tell me this is not a dream.” the anxious man begged between their shared breath. Neither of them seemed to want to stop any time soon.

“No, not a dream.” Henrik assured him as one of his hands moved to the man’s waist and the other to his hair, deepening the kisses. This was something they had both dreamed of for so long. It was almost surreal, but all the more beautiful. 

Eventually they broke apart, both trying to catch their breath.

“You really love me?” Chase asked, still unsure.

“Yes, I really love you and for quite some time actually.” he adjusted his glasses, which, thanks to their kissing, ended up crooked, “I was just too scared to ruin our friendship so I never said anything.” he added.

“Well, that would be both of us then.” the anxious man admitted and Henrik stifled a laugh.

“Good god, we’re idiots.” he sighed, and this time it was Chase who laughed.

“You know… at least we can be idiots together.” Chase said with hope.

“Oh, definitely. You won't get rid of me anymore, Mr. Brody.” he said, cupping Chase’s face and pecking a light kiss on the man’s lips.

Chase laughed into the kiss, “I didn't even plan to do that, Mr. Schneeplestein.”

“Good.” was his only answer, which they drowned in another of many kisses.

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, ART! You’ve been accepted for the role of EDMUND with an approved FC change to Max Irons. Admin Minnie: I knew this was a winner while reading your plots Art, but it was your para sample that really left me speechless. The way you showed us how he had suffered and how he had ached, all that bitterness and resentment and ambition and pride... it was so clear how deep your love for Edmund goes. I am thrilled to see someone with such an intimate, intense grasp on Easton’s soul. Please stay forever, and please ruin us for the rest of your life! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Art

Age | 19

Preferred Pronouns | He/him

Activity Level | Well here’s the thing about quarantine. I will be spending the next two-three months in a house, all day, every day, with consistent access to a laptop. I also lost my job and because the US economy is a flaming pile of garbagé, I don’t imagine getting another any time soon, especially since all my skills are in food. All this to say, I believe I will be incredibly active, outside of my Skype’d classes and grocery runs and whatnot.

Timezone | MST

How did you find the rp?  | A discord friend DM’d it to me after I went on a rant about Edmund and the layers to his “Thou, Nature, art my Goddess” soliloquy. They know me so well, and acceptances were literally in like six hours from when I got the link, so I sat my butt down, put down my real-world obligations for a moment, and typed this whole thing out like I was writing an unstarted essay due at midnight.

Current/Past RP Accounts | All my old RP writing is from years ago and is, frankly, really really bad. Thank you for making this optional.

IN CHARACTER

Character | Edmund or Easton Craven. I love Daniel Sharman’s wonderful, gorgeous face with my whole heart (hello gay awakening), but I’d like to use Max Irons instead, if at all possible.

What drew you to this character? | So, my love of Easton/Edmund actually began about a year ago, when I cut my hair and started playing around with names and different clothes. I was in a Shakespeare class at my college, and it was a requirement that we perform a monologue. It didn’t need to be Broadway-worthy, we just needed to deliver it, and we could do this as often as we liked. I performed two. One from a play we had read and analyzed, as my professor asked, and I did another. That second one was Edmund’s “Thou, Nature” soliloquy. It was the first time I performed as a guy to an audience that thought I was a guy, not a girl playing dress up. So I have a really strong emotional connection to Edmund, regardless of the form he’s in.

I was really excited by this particular version of him, however, because I thought it played right along the line of a monstrous asshole and charming young man doing what he can to deal with the hand dealt to him. He’s both of those things, to me, and I really enjoyed that you brought that forward. Edmund, from the source, reminds me of Chris Evans’ character from Knives Out, in a way? Completely self-motivated, selfish and cruel, and yet really fun and charming, as long as it isn’t you he’s screwing over at the time. I know he isn’t that character and I’m honestly really glad for it. I just found a similarity there.

I just really like those kinds of characters in fiction, and that, combined with my emotional ties and vague debt to the source character, meant I arrived and started writing as fast as I could.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

These are all ideas, nothing here is set in stone, and are entirely dependent on the beauty of the other writers free will.

Some Twelve or Fourteen Moonshines Lag of a Brother: From the get-go of this awful experience known as the human existence, Easton has existed just slightly behind Everett, just enough to keep the guy freezing in the shadows. It’s the last name, the mannerisms, and the goddamn eyes that sit in his skull. It is a truth, acknowledged by both me and him, that there is an association to Easton he really wishes wasn’t there. This is why I want someone to look at Easton and see Easton, not a Craven.

Now, I want to pause here, and say that Easton is a lying snake of a man that would and probably will sell out his own family for one corn chip. He is completely self-centered, convinced of his superiority, and willing to bleed the world dry to get the pound of flesh he is owed. I want someone to see this, to realize there is a snake curled around the Capulet’s necks, willing to bite and kill every single one of them if it means he gets to sit comfortably on a throne of gold and bones. Because that is what he wants, he wants the world to pay for every second of misery he endured in his life. But he is charming, slippery in the way only the truly awful can be. He’s accepted the labels thrown at him and become them, which is its own kind of armor. Who doesn’t love a bad boy?

But beyond all that, he is rotten through and through. I’d like his armor to crack and reveal the duplicity underneath, maybe around someone like Maeve or Catherine, someone that might not be believed right away. I love the idea of Easton being the wolf among some very dangerous sheep, but the really, truly awful ones not realizing. This could produce a really fun dance, where the two parties involved both try really really hard to overthrow or remove the other from their position while still trying really hard to maintain a veil of normality.

But that dance is what makes this all so terribly fun. They’re on a rock, doomed to eventually die, and Easton wants his power, but why can’t he play a few games while trying to get it?

I Grow, I Prosper: Easton, poor guy, was brought into the world and then spent the next twenty-six years being told his existence and all the things that came with it were his fault. They weren’t, or at least they weren’t in the way he had been told his entire life. He has learned to move past the label of “bastard” or “illegitimate”, meeting all such claims with the certainty that he must act the part. But does his position fulfill him? Does his current lot in life spark joy? I think not! He is a captain, yes, but so is his brother. He is, at best, on equal footing with his brother and at worst, he is the younger brother desperately following behind Everett as a living shadow yet again. Easton needs to be more than Everett. He’s wanted this his entire life. The whole city needs to look at Easton and see him, not his brother, and then Easton wants to rub it in Everett’s face, lord it over him for the next century at the shortest. That is the general idea behind this plot: Everett surpassing and overcoming his brother. The fact that he’d end up lording over so many others is really just a plus!

This plot would require effort. Loads and LOADS of plotting and communication on my part, and a whole lot of cutthroat, stepping-on-literally-everyone-else-in-Verona from Easton. He is going to have to exploit the hell out of Celeste and the information she can get him, potentially leading to her downfall just so Easton can succeed. He will need Rafaella and Tiberius to trust him almost unconditionally, which, just from what I’ve seen poking around the main, seems pretty much impossible. And of course, he has to successfully and continually one-up Everett, which might be the hardest job of all, given the whole awful tangle of EmotionsTM that Easton has towards him. It’s hard for him to be clear-headed when he wants to tear Everett into little tiny pieces with his bare hands.

But hey, that is, again, the whole point of this plot: the destruction of the legitimate son. Eliminating the sun so the moon can rule 24/7.

My Services are Bound: No matter how ambitious, how desperate Easton is to rule the world, he doesn’t yet. He works for the Capulets and he is a tool used to further the wishes of those above him in this terribly illegal food chain where dog eats dog. No matter how much Easton wishes it was different, it isn’t, at least not at the moment, and he must bide his time until something better happens.

Yes, Easton is a tool, and I want him to be reminded of that. He has the ambition to rule the world, can picture himself with a crown he may never hold, but he is a knight on the chessboard. I want his ego to be checked, I want him to be taken down at the knees and reminded of the situation he is in, who he works for. Now, ideally, this would come from the Capulet family themselves and not a rogue Montague or something.

The Capulet family, in order to win this war they’ve found themselves in, need their tools to be obedient and ready to deploy at a moment’s notice. This is not the case with Easton. He’s a rebellious man, more loyal to himself than any of the lofty ideas the Capulet heads have surrounded themselves with. So the family he serves would need to get Easton back in line, somehow. They’d need to remind him who he is and whom he serves no matter what it took and use whatever tools at their disposal. This could potentially happen after Easton completely blows off a mission he was handed to advance his own agendas, which I think would probably be the best choice as it would probably send these awful shrieking sirens off in the Capulets.

I want this particular plot because Easton is so assured that he will be able to make the world pay and yet he’s just one man against so very many others.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Oh most definitely. As a writer, I am a firm believer in conditional happy endings, probably because I play so many video games. In order to get a happy ending, in order to survive, the character has to do all the right things. The likelihood of Easton doing all the right things is just tiny, absolutely microscopic.  

IN DEPTH

I was going to do both, but I’m running out of time so…

In-Character Para Sample:

There is something beautiful in standing alone, where there are no silent reminders of how Easton arrived in this world, how he stepped into it screaming and no one cared to change that. There were no side-eyes, reminding him of how unwanted he was, how utterly unworthy he was to bear the name “Craven”. No hands hiding giggles at the boy his mother ran from and his father hid away. Here, under the bowed ceiling in the transept of the Capulet’s cathedral, there was only him and God.

“I hope,” Easton began, fingers lightly running across the back of a pew likely not used for praying, “that you know what is coming.” The eyes that proclaim a taint to his family’s name were raised to dance across the ceiling. “If word is to be believed, you, an old man in the sky, a Father,” he spat out, “brought me here. Placed me here upon this Earth to do whatever it is I so wish.” A smile, small and dangerous with heavy promises was birthed on his face, an expression that could not have been more familiar to his muscles. “I suppose that’s all a father has ever done for me. Perhaps,” he mused, lightly tapping his chin as he continued to wander aimlessly among the seats of a flock absent. “Perhaps I should be grateful that both You and him are both so delightfully hands-off.”

“I suppose this rock is where You chose to put all Your bastards, isn’t it? Shoved them away from Your kingdom, making them fight for their place in Your home despite them all being Your children?” The noise that escaped Easton’s mouth was not fit for the place he stood in, but it hardly seemed to matter to him as he collapsed into a pew, feet raised to rest on a Bible, feet that had stood in a man’s blood not hours before. “I suppose that must be how it is, because we’re all made in Your image, aren’t we? And that man had to learn it from somewhere.”

His head fell back, eyes closed to the beauty above him in a silent condemnation for Who it was built for. “You’ve released yet another snake into your garden by making that woman my mother and handing me the Craven name, you know.” The observation was quiet, laced with the bitterness of cyanide, perfected over years of similar declarations. The words were familiar, not on his tongue but rather to his mind, the idea similar to ones he had kept close for years.“I have crawled in the dirt on my stomach for too long because of You, and I shall take a throne and dare You to steal it from me.”

He inhaled, once, a desperate attempt to calm the words he could feel rising like acid in his throat. It didn’t work, though Easton didn’t try very hard. He rarely did when alone. “I am owed this, you miserable old bastard,” he hissed out from behind his teeth, sounding like the snake he had just claimed to be. “I will take everything because this is Your fault, and I will make your precious sheep pay for every inch of Your mistake. It’s mine, I deserve it.” A hand was clenched into a fist in his lap and Easton shifted forward, only to slam it into the wood of the pew ahead of him. “It’s mine.”

He stood suddenly, coat rising around him like smoke rising around a fire, warning the world of the danger just over there. Turning on his heel, he left the cathedral without a look back, without a fear of God. And though there had been no one around, the air hung heavy with a question. Just which father had he been addressing?

Extras: If you have anything else you’d like to include (further headcanons, an inspo tag, a mock blog, etc), feel free to share it here! This is OPTIONAL.

I submitted this through an Easton mock blog! There was going to be stuff there but my laptop crashed and I need to eat dinner!

[kaaukai-blog]

grounded. just a quick reminder that you all are immensely talented ; seriously, it’s almost baffling!!

[badwolfwrites-sometimes]

Missing you

Not Drawn Together, but have some post WW2 GerIta reunion I wrote months ago. Because why not?

10 years.

I spent 10 years in this prison.

War crimes.

I don't deny it. I was stupid. I was stupid to trust my boss. It was so stupid, so blind of me to kill that many innocent people.

People like him.

Today is the first day after 10 years that I get to see him. I missed him a lot. That smile whenever he made or ate pasta, that silky hair of his, that scent of grass after a spring rain that was always around him. And that white flag of his which I proudly held upon my surrender. They let me keep it. The only thing that reminded me of him. My Feliciano.

I knew at the time that what I was doing was so wrong, but I had no control over it. I felt my heart and mind run to him in the moments when living was impossible. At first I refused it, denied it, but slowly, I let myself feel it. I let myself fall in love with him.

And being this close to seeing him again, it took guts to contain my excitement.

Alfred arrived quite early thankfully. He was supposed to drive me home and make sure I don't start plotting another war. Like hell I would. I don't need more years in prison. I don't need more years away from Feliciano.

"You ready, Ludwig?" He smiled at me. One of his cocky smiles as usual. I guess he hasn't changed at all in these 10 years.

I didn't respond. The officer opened the door and I walked out. He took off the handcuffs and I stretched my arms. It's been so long after all. I looked at Alfred and offered a polite smile. His hair grew a bit longer and he wasn't wearing his uniform anymore. He was dressed quite nicely, nevertheless. He wore a suit which I believe was to make him look "cooler".

"Let's go big guy. No more wars. Your brother is with Ivan, but I'm sure you knew that already. Now, do you have any wishes? Some ice cream?" Alfred asked, making a disgusted face at the mention of Ivan. There were some tensions between them.

"If you don't mind, actually, I'd like to go visit Feliciano. We were close during the war and I'm sure he misses me." I said, trying not to sound too suspicious.

Alfred looked at me and smiled almost sadly.

"All the time." He said in a quiet voice.

It wasn't a very long drive. I was surprised I had been this close to Feliciano all this time, but upon looking closely, I noticed it was a graveyard. Why would he take me to the graveyard?

"You'll find him here. Just go to the very middle, under the biggest tree there. I'll stay in the car." Alfred said quickly and opened the door for me.

I exited and felt my heart beating faster than ever before. What is going on? It can't be... Is Feliciano alright?

I walked into the graveyard. They always made me feel sick. So many good and bad people, all in one place. All dead and rotting. Ironic, but at the same time disgusting. I rushed past the gravestones, hoping to reach the tree as quickly as possible. Various scenarios running through my head. And finally, I was there.

And I felt my eyes tear up.

But I smiled.

Because right before my eyes, under the tall tree, sleeping next to a gravestone that said Romulus Vargas, Feliciano's grandfather, was my beautiful Feliciano.

I walked up to him, trying not to wake him up, and sat next to him. There was so much I wanted to say to him. So many questions to ask him. But I couldn't. I couldn't wake him up. Instead, I just whispered:

"I'm home, Feliciano."

We stayed like that for about an hour, but it felt too short for me. Time always passed by quickly when I was with him. When Pact of Steel was signed, for example. We were together all day and yet, it felt like only a couple of minutes.

Feliciano soon started to turn around, attempting to find the perfect position. He soon rolled over to my chest and I held him, almost laughing at the confused face he made before he opened his eyes.

He looked up at me sleepily, his hand reaching up to touch my face and upon contact, I placed my own on his. He smiled softly before closing his eyes again.

"If this is a dream, I hope I never wake up." He whispered, relaxing his head on my chest. I smiled and kissed his hand that was on my cheek.

"It's not a dream, Feliciano. I'm here. After so many years, I'm here with you." I stroked his hair gently before he suddenly lifted his head up, his eyes wide open.

"Ludwig?" He called for me and taking his hand back to touch all over me and finally slapping himself to, presumably, make sure he wasn't dreaming.

"Yes, it's actually me. You're not dreaming." I reassured him.

"It's you! Oh Dio mio, it's you! After 10 years, it's still you!" Feliciano smiled and cried at the same time, hugging me like a child their mother. Like a faithful wife her soldier husband. And I hugged him back. I hugged him like I was going to lose him if I let go for just a second.

He let go first and wiped away his tears, never taking his eyes off of me. Even I had to surpass my tears from the joy of seeing him. And that was tough as hell.

"But what are you doing here? I mean, I'm happy, oh Ludwig, I'm so happy. But why did you come here? You hate graveyards, Ludwig." He said as quickly as his mouth allowed him. I expected no less.

"Alfred brought me here on my request. I had a feeling you would want to see me first. They let me out on good behavior." I answered. Hopefully that covered most of his questions.

"Ve~ I knew they would let you go. You're not a horrible person, Ludwig. I've been saying that for 10 years, but no one really listened. It doesn't matter, though. They still let you out. Ah, I have to introduce you!" He clapped his hands quickly and turned me around to face his grandfather's gravestone.

"This is my nonno. It's sad that you can't meet him in person, but such is a life of a country. You would have liked him, Ludwig. He had the best bedtime stories ever. Most of them were about cute girls though. I've been having nightmares since they took you to prison so I've been coming here every day." I stopped him there.

"Every day? For 10 years?" I was surprised, but, when you think about it, that does sound like something he would do.

"Yeah. It was either that or not sleeping at all and since not sleeping is bad for your health..." Honestly, he has no impulse control at all.

"So is sleeping on the cold gravestone." I told him, but I could tell he didn't listen.

"And I wanted to look my best for when I could see you again so I took naps here to reduce bags under the eyes. Oh, but you saw me here when I was sleeping. Oh Dio, how did I look? Did I look horrible? Do I still look horrible?" He began to wave his arms around in the air frantically. He does that sometimes. He's careless like that, but then he worries about his looks. I will never understand him.

"You look fine, Feliciano. Besides, I could care less what you look like right now. I'm just lucky enough to be able to see you now." That seemed to calm him down.

However, that made me rethink my choice in words. He has no idea that I love him after all and I have been dropping hints like a 14 year old girl with a crush. I blushed and looked away, covering my mouth.

Now or never, Ludwig. He deserves to know. He deserves to know what kept you sane and alive for more than 10 years.

"Ludwig?" He called for me softly as I was preparing myself to confess my feelings for him as well as possible rejection.

"Hm?" I hummed, unable to say anything.

"Do you still like me?"

His question stirred up a wave of emotions inside of me. Yes. My body and mind screamed. Yes, I still like you. I love you, Feliciano. But no words came out. Instead, I blushed harder.

"I betrayed you, Ludwig. Forced to, but it still counts as betrayal. I left you to suffer alone in the war while I ran away to hide. The thoughts, Ludwig... The thoughts of you hating me for what I did. They gave me the worst nightmares. Please, Ludwig, please say you don't hate me." He begged me. His eyes, his words, everything about him begged me not to say that I hated him. I closed my eyes for a moment and smiled.

"How can I hate you, Feliciano? How can I hate you when you were the very reason I made it through the war, through these horrible years in prison? How can I hate you when your smile chases all the dark clouds of my mind away? How can I hate you when, even when I knew what my fate would be like if anyone knew, I let myself fall in love with you? How do I hate you when my heart and mind are screaming that I love you all the time?" And finally, I said it.

Feliciano was making a face that I have never seen before. It appeared to be a mixture of shock, happiness and something else I couldn't quite place. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead closed them when no sound came. He tried again, only making himself look like a fish and making me start to regret saying anything. That was until he spoke:

"Me too, Ludwig! I love you too! Dio mio, ti voglio bene, Ludwig!" He almost screamed which shouldn't have surprised me, but after a long separation, it did. I never understood a word when he spoke in Italian, but this... This I understood perfectly.

"Ich liebe dich, Feliciano. I love you so much." I said as I placed my hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer. I felt his arms lifting and his hands cupping my cheeks as we both pulled each other closer until our lips met in a warm, long awaited kiss.

It wasn't too short, but it wasn't long either. And it still left the feeling that I need more so as soon as we both breathed a little air, we clashed our lips again. The sensation of it so sweet and so welcoming and the Sun was already setting before we realized how much time passed.

"Do you want to come over? I understand if you don't, after all you haven't been home for a while. I just really don't want you to be alone anymore. You did 10 years of that." Feliciano said and I kissed his temple.

"Of course I want to. However, you would have to ask Alfred that. He's probably still waiting for me in the car." I said and laughed. It was a rare occasion that I laugh, but Feliciano brought out the best in me. Alfred has an attention span of a spoon standing up, there was no way he would still be sitting in the car.

"Oh, Alfred is easy to convince. Just bring up that Ivan would let you stay for the night and he would offer to let you stay for a week." Feliciano laughed too. He seemed aware of the rivalry and knew how to use it well. There's a lot of things I need to catch up on.

He stood up and pulled me along. He let his hand gently touch my cheek and I relaxed into his touch.

"Let's go then. Let's not keep him waiting any longer." He said and kissed me again, grabbing a hold of my hand as we walked towards the exit of the graveyard.

10 years of waiting.

And we finally stand by each other.

Hand in hand.

Like lovers.

[phantomphangphucker]

The Lessons A Mother Gives - Phic Phight

Prompt Creator: @bibliophileap Prompt: He’s flying. Or is he? Summary: Maddie gives a lesson on ghost powers to Danny's class with Lancer, and Danny is highly intrigued by Gravity Nullification.

Warning: slightly depressing, bullying, analysis of the human condition.

also on my AO3 at GothMoth

“Alright class, today we have a presenter-“ Lancer gets cut off by slightly enthusiastic cheering, while Danny simply stares out the window to his left. Lancer, coughing to recapture the students' attention “as I was saying, due to all the recent ghost attacks the school board has decided to have a local ghost expert-”. Danny jerks his head over to Lancer muttering “oh no”, as Lancer continues. “-Ms. Fenton.” Lancer walks over to the door opening it to let Maddie in. “Please welcome Ms. Fenton and try to behave like the young adults I know you are.” Lancer sighs as he sits in his corner chair. Maddie stands confidently at the front of the class and gives a little wave to Danny. Who visibly shrinks in his seat, as a couple of jocks snicker at him.

“Hello class! I’m sure you all know me as Danny’s mom but today I’m here as a professional. So address me as Ms. Fenton not Danny’s mom, please”. Maddie finishes her intro with a soft smile. Walking over to the whiteboard she quickly picks up a green marker and starts to write as she speaks. “So it was decided that you all would get educated on how ghost do what ghost do, meaning their powers. Rather than how to fight them.” Turning around for a second to shrug. “The principal decided teaching teens how to use ecto-weapons was a bad idea, I say pah! To that but rules are rules.”. Turning back to the board she finishes writing out a vertical list of all the main, well-known ghost powers.

Ecto-Blasts

Ecto-shields

Invisibility

Intangibility

Body manipulation

Over-shadowing

Duplication

Gravity nullification

“Miss?” Paulina asks with her hand raised, lowing it when Maddie looks to her. “What’s that last one?” Paulina finishes her question with a few agreeing nods. Maddie smiles, glad to see they’re paying attention; unlike her son. Unbeknownst to her, Danny is actually paying attention. Just with his head in his arms, listening both to her and sneakily watching out the window through his arms for any ghosts. “Well, gravity nullification is probably better known by you as” air-quoting “flying” end air-quoting “ but that’s really the wrong word for it”. Star, looking highly confused just asks “what do you mean?”. “You see ghosts aren’t made out of the same things as you and I, they’re just shells wrapped over ectoplasm.” Maddie doesn’t notice the way Danny faintly shivers at her words and how he grimaces. “And ectoplasm reacts differently to the environment compared to any other substance. Functionally, it is always in a state of weightlessness. Ghosts actually have to force solidity into their ectoplasm to even be affected by gravity at all.”. Kwan shoots his hand up. “Yes?”. “What about that metal one, we’ve all seen him falling and crashing around? Wouldn’t he not be able to do that if he’s weightless?”. Maddie chuckles lightly but quickly scolds Danny’s still slouched down form before answering the question. “Danny dear, please sit up straight. You’ll ruin your back like that.” Maddie scolding is sweet as the class snickers at him more. Danny jolts right up, face red but keeps a hand in front of his mouth, just in case his ghost sense goes off. “Anyways, the metal ghost is an anomaly as it’s actually a small blob-like ghost wearing a suit of armour. The armour, like any armour, isn’t inherently weightless. Meaning the ghost has to extend its natural weightlessness to the suit!”. Maddie is quite pleased with herself hearing the “ooooo”’s and “ahhhhh”’s from most the students. Danny, meanwhile, is wondering just how the hell his mom actually knows about that. Sure, he found out about Skulkers real form right away but he doubts his mom found out the same way he did. And even though he’s not on good terms with Skulker, Danny can’t help but frown at him being called an “it”.

Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t take long for Paulina to ask about Phantom, much to Danny’s dismay and the rest of the classes joy. Maddie shakes her head at the clear display of fondness for the ghostly “hero” but answers honestly anyway. “Phantom as a whole is an anomaly itself, very little about that one makes sense and finding out anything about it has proven to be, more or less, impossible. However, considering Phantom’s lack of any suit or exoskeleton, it’s safe to say it’s as inherently weightless as any normal ghost.”. Danny is kinda shocked by the genuine response and it does get him to ponder about his “flying” ability. Muttering into his hand quietly, “well it’s not like I can really feel wind strongly flying by, and the wind resistance doesn’t change regardless of how fast I go.”. Tapping his chin, “and thinking about it yeah, it feels like being suspended in water...but more floaty. Huh, I used to notice that a lot actually”. Shrugging, Danny smirks “the perks of getting used to things I guess”. Danny is pulled out of his mutterings by Mr. Lancer “Daniel, of all people I would expect you to be paying attention” causing Danny to jolt and look around, earning him more snickers. Meanwhile, Maddie just sighs and shakes her head. “As I said, all ectoplasm has this quality due to its composition. The particles it’s made out of are so densely compact, that it actually has its own gravitational force. That force is only strong enough to negate the earths pull, however, so you don’t have to worry about being pulled into an average ghost” Maddie adds with a chuckle.

Paulina, spring her hand up again, “but what if the ghost is carrying you? Would it make them easier to hold you?” Blushing slightly “I wouldn’t want Phantom to struggle carrying me”. Danny physically groans as his mom frowns, “you shouldn’t be that close to any ghost, especially not Phantom. Regardless of the ghosts act, it is evil and it does not care; just like all other ghosts.”. This earns her almost unanimous glares from the students so Maddie just sighs. “But yes, being that close to a ghost would allow for its ectoplasms gravitational pull to have a slight effect on you, instantly making you lighter. But most ghost will almost instantly extend their gravity nullification to anything they try to carry on instinct. So you’d effectively be weightless yourself.”. Dash grins wide “so that’s why Phantom can lift so much...it’s not strength but some weird gravity thing. Cool man, I would kill for that on the field”. Someone chuckles next to him “you’d have to be killed for it” which earns a couple laughs, even one from Danny; who’s ever fond of dark humour. Sighing Maddie corrects Dash, “not quite true, a ghost carrying something would have to exert adequate strength to extend enough gravity nullification to the item in question to render it weightless.”. Danny mulls over this in his head, things were definitely not as heavy or as hard to pick as Phantom; even from the very beginning. Now that both his halves were physically stronger, due to the constant exercise and fighting he did, most things were freakishly light. Even in Fenton form. Muttering again, “though I guess my ectoplasm is a constant in me so I guess I constantly have at least some of this gravity nullification active at all times. Huh, for once I’m learning something that actually helps me”. Noticing Lancer’s glare he makes a point of following his mom with his eyes, instead of staring into space. As Dash pipes up again “so Phantom really is built then? Awesome! I knew he wasn’t punny”. Maddie looks dumbfounded by this, muttering under her breath; though Danny can hear due to enhanced hearing. “I can’t believe how fooled that ectoplasmic scum has all the children. I’ll have to have an honest talk with Jasmine and Danny about their own fondness of him. At least Danny has a healthy fear of ghosts, even if it is a little overboard.”. Danny internally groans, dreading supper, as Maddie continues addressing the class. “Punny isn’t really possible with ghosts, Mr. Baxter, all of them have dangerous powers and most have unique abilities as well.” Earning a couple raised eyebrows from the students. One band geek asks “but what about that box guy? He doesn’t seem capable of doing much of anything” at this most the class laughs, including Danny. Maddie smiles loosely “that one has some sort of power that lets it get into our world whenever it pleases, which is a threat in and of itself. If it wasn’t for how lacking it is in all other areas, it would be an absolute nightmare”. Danny can’t help but laugh hard at this. The idea of The Box Ghost, even after the Pandora’s Box incident, being a genuine threat is so absurd. Danny earns a few odd looks, including from his mom, over his wheezing laughter. Someone in the back mutters “isn’t Fenton, like, terrified of ghosts?” His friend next to him shrugging “I guess even that scaredy cat doesn’t fear the Box ghost.”. The first boy mutters again “That’s kinda sad for the Box ghost actually.”. “Moving on,” Maddie says over the two boys, still shooting Danny curious looks. “Is there any other main powers you’d like me to talk about first before I go down the list?”. Kwan sticks his hand up at the prompt, “uh yeah, what’s intangibility mean?”. Maddie chuckles sweetly, “why it’s the ability to go through solid objects without damaging them. Both intangibility and invisibility have relatively the same explanation, so I do both”. Turning back to the board Maddie cross off gravity nullification. “Basically, ectoplasm is capable of vibrating at specific frequencies and speeds that nothing else really can. This is excluding ecto-raineum which is why ghost hunters make their equipment and weapons out of it.”. Maddie smirks to herself, “this vibration allows for ghosts to move their ectoplasm at such a rate that they surpass that of all the materials around and/or light itself. Rendering them capable of going through almost anything and blinking out of visible range.”. Maddie paces around the front of the room as she continues, “Some theorize that many animals who can see wider ranges of light can always see ghosts, but this is still hotly contested.”. Danny muttered to himself while she was speaking, “yeah and it’s a hell of a lot harder than it looks.”. Star shoots her hand up asking, “I’ve seen ghost turn people invisible and what not, does that hurt the person? Vibrating the persons' cells or whatever like that?”. At that question Danny makes a mildly horrified face, whispering “I never even thought about that, oh god I’m going to have to ask Sam and Tucker about that.”. “Thankfully, we’re certain it doesn’t hurt, if it did I’m sure many more people in Amity would complain about it; considering how commonly that happens here”. The students nod, all but Danny accepting this answer at face value. Danny’s learned not to fully trust all of his parents “science”, after learning so much for himself. He’d rather verify something that could potentially be inadvertently hurting people, for himself.

“Moving on, I’ll talk about ecto-blasts and ecto-shields like I did for the previous two abilities. Both are nothing more than a ghost expelling ectoplasm outside of their manifested form, in a controlled fashion.”. “So kind of like spitting?” Dash jumps in. Maddie, turning to him, replies “That’s about as close as a human can get, yes. Ectoplasm isn’t something ghost can just randomly expel out of their body’s however they please. Ectoplasm is their bones, organs, skin, blood and consciousness. A ghost could destroy itself with over expulsion.”. Paulina makes a disgusted face and pulls her hands up to her chest “so ghost are like? Throwing around their own blood?!”. Maddie grimaces, “in a way, yes, but it’s so vastly different from actual blood that it’s really nothing alike.”. Paulina still looking grossed out, “Well, Phantoms the only one whose ecto-whatever isn’t nasty then”. Danny can tell his mom is restraining herself from going off on a tirade about ghosts. He finds himself rather impressed by her rare show of not going overboard. “Yes well, ectoplasm should always be handled as carefully as possible, you absolutely should not touch it and you absolutely should avoid it; as best you can anyways.” At this Lancer gives a curt nod of agreement. “The last thing any of us want is you, mostly bright, young students getting hurt or worse.” Lancer sighs darkly. While Danny just chuckles to himself “I’ve already done the “worse” option, twice over so...little late for the warning.” Smirking, he can’t help but feel glad for not getting the warning though. He wouldn’t trade his halflife for anything else, though he could do with a break sometime.

“Now duplication is one of the trickier things a ghost can pull. Not a lot of ghost can do it and it’s very difficult for them, but it also makes catching a ghost impossible if you don’t get every duplicate. The body manipulation is similar, being a more basic form of duplication. However, Phantom seems to be one of the few ghosts that actually utilizes body manipulation both offensively and defensively.” At this Paulina grins proudly. Danny’s not sure whether to be creeped out or pleased about her grin. “On one hand she loves me, on the other she’s completely obsessed” Danny sighs. “Yeah, I think I saw him turn his stomach into a freaking donut once” Kwan chuckles. Maddie nods enthusiastically “yes that would be an example of body manipulation, duplication is just body manipulation taken to the extreme. How ghosts manage to control two separate bodies is a bit of a mystery but the general consensus is that since their ectoplasm is their consciousness it’s no different to them than controlling two hands at once.”. Danny has to cover his eyes to keep from boring holes into his mom’s face with his glare. “There is nothing fucking easy about duplication...though I’d have no clue how to explain having 6 heads to a class.”. “I had like 10 bodies once! It was a nightmare, even if it made playing pass more fun.” Kwan shivers slightly as Maddie roles her eyes. “The stories kids spin”.

“Lastly, over-shadowing; easily the most unpleasant and evil power ghosts have. I’m sure you already know but it’s the power to take over a real persons body and control it. Over-shadowing is near impossible to detect without special equipment but ghosts can’t maintain it forever.”. One of the students in the back scoffs “I’m pretty sure all of us have had some experience with that trick.”. “Yes and it’s the only way for a human body to have ghost powers. While possessing a human body ghosts can still use gravity nullification, invisibility and intangibility. Though it is much harder to do.”.  Danny can’t help but smirk as he watches his mom talk so self-assured, when a halfa lives in the same house, eats the same food, and talks to her every day. “There’s something hilariously ironic about a scientist living with the very thing that disproves their theories.”. Maddie walks over to the board and draws a red person shaped outline and then a green one just over top. Tapping the drawing with the pen, “this is basically how over-shadowing works. Ghosts layer their own ectoplasm overall a persons internals, including the brain. Allowing it to use its ectoplasm to control all the nerves and access every sense of the body. This is also why no one really remembers what happened. The ectoplasm coats over the brain muting all the synapses and their communication.”. Dash just groans “I didn’t think there’d be so much brain stuff with ghosts.”. Danny, chuckling “what? Your head hurts?”. Dash turns and pelts Danny with a pencil, the only thing he bothered to bring with him to class. “Mr. Baxter! What did I say about behaving!” Lancer crosses his arms staring at the boy, releasing a disappointed sigh as Dash just glares and sits back down. Meanwhile, Maddie has her hands on her hips, clearly not impressed to see even a hint of the bullying she’s been suspecting Danny’s been getting all his injuries from. “Baxter, the only time going on the offence against someone or thing is when that thing is a ghost. People, unlike ghosts, are not inherently out to hurt you. So control your anger and Danny, don’t antagonize him.”. Danny grumbles “it’s called a joke, not my fault he can’t handle being the joke”, at the mild scolding. “Ghosts are the things that lash out violently at the slightest displeasure, you kids aren’t a bunch of ectoplasmic scum.” Danny sighs “and here comes the anti-ghost rant...plus last I checked I’ve still got my healthy amount of ectoplasm so at least one of us here is indeed ghostly.”. In his mutterings, he completely misses the rest of his moms' rant, though he doesn’t miss noting all the unimpressed teenage faces. Even Mr. Lancer seems put off. Maddie, brushing some imaginary dirt of her thighs, “Anyways, I figured to wrap this up, we’d have a little discussion about which of these powers you’re most impressed by and how you’d use them for good; instead of doing what ghosts do.” Looking around at the suddenly very interested students, Maddie nods contently. “We’ll break up into groups of 4 based on seating and you’ll debate amongst yourselves which power’s best.”. Then giving the floor to Mr. Lancer, “I expect written personal reports from each of you, this will count as your creative writing assignment. Worth 20% of your grade, lates will NOT be accepted.” Lancer finishes as he hands out the assignment sheets, all the while glaring at Danny. Danny just rolls his eyes, muttering under breath “hmm an assignment about something I constantly think about and have years of experience with...”. It takes Danny all of two seconds to write down gravity nullification on his sheet, only slightly intending to actually fill the rest out later.

Maddie and Lancer set about pushing everyone into their groups. Danny ends up with Dash, Star and a random band geek. “What’s up Fentit! If you say anything other than that gravity thing you’ll be eating my toenail clippings for a week.” Danny groans sarcastically “oH wOw WhAt A cOiNcIdEnCe, ThAt’S jUsT wHaT i WaS tHiNkInG.”. Star giggles a little while the band geek just stares in awe and mild horror at Danny’s guts. Dash glares at Danny but turns to then glare at the geek who quickly chirps, “gravitynullifcationisbestforsure”. Star sighs, “I was going to say body manipulation but that seems pointless now”. Danny raises an eyebrow at her, genuinely curious, “why that one, it clearly doesn’t have many uses?”. Star rolls her eyes, “for perfect skin of course. Who cares about floating or flying or whatever. When you can make your skin, hair, eyes and everything else look exactly how you want it to.”. Danny sighing, not quite sure what he expected, replies anyways “pretty sure it doesn’t work quite like that and you wouldn’t be able to keep it up forever. Nothing compares to being up in the sky”. Dash rolls his eyes “space nerd much, try caring about something real. You can bench so much with that power. It’s like super strength but better. Gosh, Phantom is so lucky.” Danny smirks, “Well yeah, the strength boost is great but that still doesn’t beat flying. Normal people can be super strong but they can’t fly.”. The geek jumps in, correcting Danny “your mom says it’s not really flying though, just like weightless floating. I think I’d vomit” his face, as if to prove a point, looks like just thinking about it will make him vomit. “Astronauts are weightless most of the time and they don’t constantly vomit.”. Danny rebuttals while painting a hand at the geek. “Yeah well they train for that, I certainly have no training” the geek rubs his stomach. Just as Dash punches him in the arm “that’s pretty obvious wimp.”. Star just rolls her eyes at the boy’s behaviour.

Pretty soon after, Lancer calls everything to a halt and has one person from each group say their piece. Over-shadowing, invisibility and gravity nullification; are the only powers picked by any of the groups. Teams for over-shadowing would use them for politic influence.

Teams for invisibility would use it to make their own lives easier.

Teams for gravity nullification are split on using strength to help people and using floating to become a high-class travel system. Listening to all the reasons people give out, Danny can’t help but be glad that he’s the one who actually wound up with the powers. “Sweet Plasmius, things like this really smack me in the face with how much more serious and mature I’ve become; compared to everyone else.”. Shaking his head “literally none of them even considered being just like Phantom. Sure, some talked about helping but not to the same degree at all.”. The last group leader manages to wrap things up just before the end of day dismissal bell rings.

Danny stands, looking out the window, as the rest of his classmates file out; he can see Lancer approaching from the corner of his right eye. “Fenton, I expect to see that assignment tomorrow...”. Noticing Lancer’s slightly less collected than usual demeanour, “ but that’s not really what’s on your mind, is it?”. Lancer sighs “you’re always more intelligent than your work says and you pay way too much attention to everything. But yes, your mothers, uh, beliefs on ghosts are, honestly, quite harsh and even cruel.” Lancer leans his hips against the windowsill, “I’ve had many personal encounters with, including with Phantom, ghosts. I can’t say I agree with her view of them being pure evil. Even more so in the case of Phantom. While I do not envy him, it’s clear to me he’s a good soul.” Lancer looks down at Danny in time to notice his soft smile. “Both me and my sister agree with you Lancer, but my parents would never hear of it. They’re scientist yes, but their theories matter more than the proof.”. Lancer shakes his head at this, “that’s not how it should be even if they know many things, speaking of work. I’d like to know your opinion now, since I genuinely doubt I’ll actually see that paper. I’m hopeful but not a fool.” Chuckling, Danny’s smile widens “gravity nullification, how could it be anything else. Though I do consider it flight even if it’s really not, which is kind of neat to know now”. Lancer raises an eyebrow at him, “you mean to tell me you never learned this from your parents before? I expected that they’d have taught you this before I even met you.”. Danny laughs at Lancer's shock, “I kind of tune all that out, normally their talk about ghost is completely hateful, today was a rare day where she tired to keep her biases out of the conversation. Pleasant surprise really.”. Lancer shakes his head frowning, “Well, I’m glad you don’t carry that hate yourself. So what draws you so much to gravity nullification?”. Smiling, Danny replies in earnest “the sky is a home, a comfy place where you could just be free. You could sail over oceans, hover over a neon-lit fast food sign eating take out, or you could just go up”. Danny motions his hand upward and looks to the clouds, out the window “space was always my dream and with that power I could just go up and up and up. Get to see the stars like I always wanted; drift amongst Ursa Major, Aquila, and Eridanus. There’s a whole lot up there and to be able to just go and see it all on a whim? Nothing could compare.”. Lancer stares in awe at his most problematic student, unsure of how to respond. Eventually though, “you have wonderful dreams Daniel, though I can hear in your voice that you think you’ll never get see them through. The teacher in me wants to say work hard and you will, but I’ve started to realize that for some unknown reason you’re blocked from giving me your best. That hurts to see but I understand.  Life doesn’t always work and a teenager being mature enough to be so introspective and watchful; tells me that something has indeed not worked out.”. Putting a hand on Danny, Lancer asks him one last question, “I could tell you were displeased with the other students reasons and uses for their selected power. Why is that?”. Smirking Danny looks at Lancer square in the face, this boldness takes Lancer off guard a bit. “Because of Phantom, no one, not a single person; aimed to do what he does. Self-sacrifice, leadership, heroism.....none of them aimed for that. They all wanted looks, or political gain, or money, or power for powers sake.” Chuckling, Danny continues “Phantom’s like hope here and none of them wanted to be that hope.”. Lancer is once again shocked but he smiles anyways “even I never thought of that Daniel, that says a lot of good things about you I believe.”. Patting Danny on the back, “go home and sleep, and I look forward to seeing your paper tomorrow”. Danny nods and walks to head out but Lancer just manages to catch Danny mutter “who knows maybe one day hope will fly away and sleep too”. Danny, chuckling heartily to himself “or I guess “nullify gravity or whatever”.

Lancer sits down heavily in his chair, just managing to catch a glimpse of Phantom flying by. “I wonder if Phantom even understands what he possesses and how he’s viewed?” Shaking his head he stares at Danny’s seat. “That kids mind is like a supernova shackled by whatever chains it is that keeps him grounded. In all honesty, I’m starting to just want to see him happy and content rather than grandly successful. And as a teacher, I find myself unsure what to do with that.”

Up in the sky, Danny fly’s around lazily in circles. “Well today sure was something and I now have a new look and appreciation for “gravity nullification”. Shaking his head with his hands behind his back, facing the sky; he slowly continues to defy earths gravitational pull and floats home.

End.

[linkspooky]

could you do a meta on dabi,hawks and endeavor theres something interesting about thoses three there was even a chapter about those three theres a common occurance about them that i can't put into words

There is a connection between all three of them.

So a follow up from my last post, there’s a question of agency between the three of them. [x]

Definition of Agency 

What agency means is essentially the freedom and capacity to live or act in a defined world. In a literature sense, we can interpret this in a few different ways. We could look at a specific character in a novel, and see his/her ability to make choices, act freely, and control their respective lives within the novel. The character is able to engage socially, take action on desired things, and have control of their own life. [x].

Basically, let’s look at it from a different angle than the last post though. When it comes to the connection between Endeavor, Dabi, and Hawks, just as important as Agency, their ability to make choices is motivation. 

Definition of Motivation

In literature, “motivation” is defined as a reason behind a character’s specific action or behavior. This type of behavior is characterized by the character’s own consent and willingness to do something.

There are two types of motivation: one is intrinsic, while the other one is extrinsic. Intrinsic motivation is linked to personal pleasure, enjoyment and interest, while extrinsic motivation is linked to numerous other possibilities. Extrinsic motivation comes from some physical reward such as money, power, or lust. Intrinsic motivation, on the other hand, is inspired by some internal reward such as knowledge, pride, or spiritual or emotional peace or wellbeing, etc. [x]

So basically now we’re looking at the characters from two angles, number one what choices do they have room to make, and number two in those limited choices what motivates them to eventually make the choices that they do. 

So, I would say the connection between the three of them is that they all chose to pursue being a hero in some way, yes even Dabi who is a villain cares about the idea of becoming a hero. 

Now Endeavor’s are the hardest to discern, since his reasoning to want to be a hero is vague at best. Trying my best to discern though, it seems that Endeavor one, worked really hard to be a hero and believed his hard work should have been rewarded with some sort of feeling of accomplishment. It’s the same reason that Bakugo freaked out so badly when Todoroki did not face him at his strongest in the tournament, because his own feeling of accoplishment was wrong because he didn’t believe he earned it.

So, it’s really hard to discern, but the idea of being number one itself was soething that Endeavor was after, and facing the fact that really no matter how hard he strives he would be at his limit and unable to surpass All Might who was just better and stronger than him in any way took a number out on his ego. This is my best attempt at explanation, it’s not really clear what Endeavor wants out of being a hero. 

It’s a thematic idea that is explored in MHA at least, the desire to be the strongest. Whether or not that desire itself is a good or bad thing, but also because that strong drive can drive others to do terrible things. 

The best way I can explain it though is that Endeavor believes he’s entitled to a certain sense of accomplishment after all that hard work he did to be number one, but because there was such a huge gap in front of him he was never able to reach that accomplishment and thus he took his feelings out on the others around him. 

Basically, despite Horikoshi trying to present Endeavor as a character motivated by heroic means at this point, pretty much every bit of his past characterization contradicts this. Endeavor is pretty consistently characterized as an abuser, it’s all about his feelings and his own sense of accomplishment and worth, and he uses Shoto and everybody else in his family to those ends. There’s malice in the way he treats Shoto, especially when Shoto implies he has desires of his own. Basically, Endeavor attacked his family out of a perceived lack of respect from the world, and a perceived lack of feeling of accomplishment which he thought he was owed due to all of his hard work. So, there’s something especially toxic about Endeavor’s motivation to be a hero, one could even call it toxic masculinity if MHA were like… more thematically consistent about anything.

But let’s simplify for a moment and say Endeavor’s motivation for becoming a hero is really in line with the society of quirks we’re presented with in MHA. That he has a strong quirk, and he works hard, therefore he should rise to the top with his strong quirk and be stronger than anyone else, and defeat bad guys and that is what a hero is. Endeavor followed that line of thinkng from society perfectly, but he wasn’t able to become the strongest. 

He’s obsessed with quirks and strength the same way society is, and even forced a quirk marriage which was said to be a negative aspect of humanity’s budding obsession with quirks and wanting quirks to be stronger. 

So, Endeavor’s motivation for becoming a hero is entirely personal. However, Endeavor had the most agency to make his choice out of the three I’m presenting here. There was no pressuring circumstances for him to do what he did, except for the pressure that Endeavor put on himself. Endeavor was basically free to choose to become anything, and he chose to become a hero. Unlike Dabi, and Hawks he could have just become a hero and been satisfied with that especially due to the lack of external pressure but it was never enough for him. 

Endeavor who had the most agency to choose, also destroyed the agency of others around him, his own family. He may be responsible for creating Touya/Dabi (the rest of this post is going to go forward on this assumption) but he definitely used his wealth of agency, fame, money, resources, in order to completely destroy and cut short the agency of both Rei and Todoroki for his own purposes.

Also it’s important to note that villains are usually the ones which limit the agency of others. Villains seize agency in order to act and create the circumstances, and heroes respond to those circumstances. Except the greatest antagonist to Shoto’s own arcs, the one that created the circumstances that he has to respond to, is the hero Endeavor. Then next on the line is Hawks. Hawks also has shaky at best motivations for being a hero, and partially selfish ones but for entirely different reasons. 

As elaborated on in the last post, Hawks was raised by the hero system, saved fro a troubled home, and told because he had talent he simply had to become a hero. 

So, if Hawks has empty motivations in this case it’s because his own agency is limited. From childhood he’s almost always done what others have asked for him, and his ability to make his own decisions, or be informed by his own motivations was pretty much nonexistant. His name is his hero name, he’s entirely Hawks.

Why is Hawks always resolving things on his own? He’s been taught by the system that there’s absolutely nobody else he can rely on. He’s been used as a tool from the beginning so the best way he can adapt to this is by making himself into the most efficient tool possible. “Well, I’ll still be a tool in the end but at least I’ll be a pretty damn good tool.” with the idea that if he does his job well enough he might be able to break free from the system that he’s become such a vital part of. 

Hawks has to work as efficiently as possible, he’s obsessed with saving others and being the best even if he has to do all the work on his own and only stick his sidekicks with clean up. He’s basically tied to the job, and also of the idea of doing everything all on his own, simply because he has the ability to do so.

The irony being that Hawks obsesses over the idea of freedom, he works tirelessly so others can be free, he encourages them to be free and not waste themselves, and yet Hawks has no freedom of his own, specifically because he was born with those wings. The symbol of his freedom his wings, are also a curse to him. 

So, Hawks entire motivation is agency, he wants to have agency, to be motivated to do things for his own reasons and not fro the sake of othes. He believes that people who are strong enough to fight for their own reasons are the ones that can be relied on and put people at ease but he is not one of them.

Which would explain Hawks strange opinion of Endeavor, even though once again Endeavor is somebody who created a broken home, a child abuser, the same kind of home that Hawks came from and is responsible for his current situation.

Simply put, Endeavor had agency and drive and he was able to decide those things for himself, something that Hawks is fundamentally lacking in and unable to see himself as able to do.

Hawks is so exhausted he can’t even bring himself to try, and he falsely sees Endeavor as somebody who did try even when it was impossible. So, he envies that part of him. Even after wearing himself out completely to become somebody who saves almost everyone and willingly sacrifices all of those feathers at a drop of a hat, Hawks still does not believe he’s done enough and lacks the energy to go further, and thinks he has to rely on someone like Endeavor with a big flashy power in order to set people at ease. Hawks from the beginning was setting up and manipulating Endeavor to be a symbol. He pretty much says so.

Hawks is more suited for the position, he’s more political, tactical, he genuinely wants to save people, he’s helpful to them and a friendly face, the only thing he’s lacking is being a total powerhouse which is what society thinks it needs right now, so he sets up Endeavor in his place while he works behind the scenes. 

So, what Hawks is motivated by is being powerful enough to put people at ease, however the choices Hawks makes in order to fulfill that motivation are completely opposite. 

His motivation is to have more agency as a hero, but his choices are always one that specifically limit his own agency. If Endeavor is a character that has all the agency in the world and abuses it to limit the agency of others, then Hawks is a character that limits his own agency over and over again even though all he desires is freedom. Both of these characters are making these choices because they revolve around the concept of being a hero. 

Hawks also, was limited in his agency, in what he could become because of the circumstances of his birth and he was born with a body and quirk ideal for becoming a hero, and he still feels pressure and aftereffects of that upbringing even as an adult. 

Then finally we bring ourselves to Dabi/Touya. 

If Shoto and Hawks were born to become heroes, then Dabi specifically was born not to be a hero. His body would never be able to handle it. Not only to the point of not having an ideal combination of quirks and being a failure like Natsu and Fuyumi, but to the point of being physically disabled. His greater fire actively harms him because of the lack of his body and his own constitution, and the person who decided to make this risky choice to blend quirks was Endeavor, not caring about the child’s well being but rather how the child was born to fulfill his own ambitions. So, Dabi was given a shitty body since birth which limited his choices of what he could become in a really quirk obsessed society, and his father did this on purpose to him and threw him out as a failure when he did not turn out the right way.

So, the person so far born with the least agency in their situation is Touya. Whether or not he wanted to become a hero is not really a choice to him because his quirk destroys his own body, and his father dismissed him as a failure. 

He’s also the inverse of Hawks, he was adopted became a hero whether he wanted to or not because he was born with a quirk that was ideal for the job. Dabi was abandoned and neglected because he was born with a quirk unideal for being a hero, and also his body would actively be destroyed if he pursued that path. 

So, his response is to believe as Stain did that because he was excluded, that society itself was wrong about him and wrong about heroes. 

Dabi’s introduction tells us two things, he doesn’t like people who aren’t dedicated to a cause, and who kill without reason like Himiko instantly being put off by her.

Second that he’s driven the same way that the hero killer is. That even acting as a villain, he wants to make a society where heroes act like real heroes. 

It’s even apparent in his taunts to Aizawa, he tells Aizawa to act like a proper hero, to save his students. What’s a better call to action for a hero anyway than a proper antagonist. 

He praises Aizawa for acting properly as a hero should. So, of allt he characters Dabi had the least amount of agency, that’s not to say he was forced to doing what he did, but he was the least suited to becoming a hero, and even then there’s still some part of Dabi that wants heroes to act properly, and there’s a cause he acts for that wants to affect some positive change. 

Yet, at the same time born with the least agency, still motivated by cause and wanting heroes to act like heroes, Dabi is also of the three the character that burns up the most agency. Villains often have the most agency, because they don’t care whose agency they trample over to get what they want. In order for Dabi to have his current freedom, he had to walk over others and kill them, that became a necessary step to acheiving his goals in his mind.

Let’s say Dabi is acting like a vigilante here and giving him the most benefit of the doubt. That Stain did not like villains that acted without just cause either, so a bunch of low brand thieves only out to steal for themselves aren’t doing anything to improve society so they’re unnecessary, they’re in the way so Dabi burns them. Dabi’s ultimate goal of improving society becomes built on their sacrifice then, his agency comes from taking theirs away.

This is something Dabi is questioned about twice, you’re taking away living breathing people from the world, people with connections, all for your own purposes. No other member of the villain’s league is really questioned on their murders the way Dabi is. Because Dabi is the one who is trying to justify his killings as being for an improvement to society, the most out of anybody in the league. 

Dabi’s own life was cut short, and his response now is to cut short the lives of others, for some perceived higher purpose of his. However, even still he differs from Endeavor, because of all the implicaitons that Dabi himself knows what he’s doing is wrong is feels guilty about it, and is actively destroying his own body in the process, Endeavor and Shoto both have one burn scar, Dabi’s entire body is covered in them. 

Dabi’s too are inherently selfish and self driven motivation. He wants to correct the hero system yes, but only because the hero system is what created him, and he knows those cracks exist because he’s the one that fell through them. As much as it would benefit everybody, just like Hawks it’s still a deeply personal grudge created by his own circumstances. 

So, Endeavor sacrificed the agency of others. Hawks sacrifices his own agency. And in his wild bid for freedom from his circumstances, Dabi is the one who makes the most radical choices. Born the son of a hero, he did the unthinkable and cast away all of society’s restrictions to become a villain instead. In order to walk that path he actively devours the agency of others around him. At the same time, he’s also limiting his own agency because he’s pushing his body and mind to their natural in born limits. Dabi acts both self destructive, and destructive of everything else around him. In order to gain agency, he destroys himself and others to get the agency he was denied when he was younger. 

Yet, all three of these characters are still connected by their want to be a hero. They share a revolving motivation though each of them took a drastically different path.