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quillyfied · 7 months ago

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Hellaverse Theories: Helluva Boss S2E4

Welcome to Quilly’s Hellaverse Theories, where I overthink the entire Hellaverse! Now, folks, I’m a gentle soul. I prefer comedies and romances to drama and angst. But. Every so often. Every now and then. I get a dark hunger for some whump (followed by comfort but lol this episode does not provide that service). And this episode? DELIVERS. HURT THE BELOVED BIRD MAN. HUMBLE HIM. WHEEEEE!

Anyway. S2E4 WESTERN ENERGY HERE WE COME.

“Where the poor pour for you” good GRIEF okay. Also I didn’t know imps came that tiny. Someone help them. And build a Zootopia-esque tiny town for them, if they don’t already have that.

I see divorce settlement negotiations are going well :P It’s so funny to see Stolas being openly petty and bitchy to Stella when Via isn’t caught in the immediate crossfire, because we see through flashbacks (so far) that he really, really didn’t talk back or question her much during their marriage (not never, just not much). This is “don’t you want to just go apeshit” at its most refined. And lol at Andrealphus trying to wrangle Stella; she’s many things but tame has never been one of them and if she wasn’t such an egregious abusive violent bastard it would be more impressive (and I have some Thoughts about her and places this personality trait of hers could go/mean if given proper development, but later in the episode).

Alright, Stolas’ notification that he has a meeting with Ozzie in three days. That puts a timeline on this thing that may become amended by Oops, because after what Stolas is about to go through, I’m not sure he’s able to keep that meeting; and Striker does say “had a royal on the ropes just last week,” and Fizzarolli schedules Stolas for a nooner, so maybe it did need to get rescheduled while Stolas recovered. Not for long, though; a week at most. I don’t know how long people are in the hospital for normally when they get the kind of treatment Stolas gets, but he spends three days to a week in recovery, then still has bandages by the time Full Moon rolls around (whenever it may be)—demonic resilience, even in the face of holy weapons. Also. Where the HECK does blessed rope come from?? (And on the subject of timing, Blitzo spends a week tracking his sister while Moxxie and Millie are working the camper job—does it take Stolas a full week to recover? The chronology is so tiresome to track sometimes.)

But anyway, back to Andrealphus and his stupid face and his transparent attempts at manipulation. He’s kinda bad at this when he doesn’t have any ammunition, but he IS related to Stella, so I wonder if they both compensate the lack of skillful manipulation with pure arrogance. And I do very much question if Stella is as stupid as Andrealphus clearly thinks and says she is, or if she just has different goals and motivations and isn’t inclined to share them. Reducing Stella to an empty-headed spoiled brat just feels wrong in a show (and, frankly, a universe) where nearly every character has SOME sort of hidden depths, even if they’re just hints.

Also: I notice that at this fancy tea place, it’s not just Goetians demons. I see other Hellborn there as well (the lady at the table Striker lands on looks like she’s a succubus shark with very lovely tail fins, good work on the genetic lottery, madam). Interestingly wide social strata. Also, just gonna go ahead and speculate about it here: it’s weird that every ring has localized demon strains, but Wrath’s imps and (I am assuming heavily here, since Bee is hound-shaped and also appears to be the beast tamer in Lucifer’s merry Hellish circus) Gluttony’s hellhounds are at the bottom of that heap. Succubi/incubi, sharks, baphomets, whatever Envy has (possessors, I’ve heard it said? Not in-show yet so idk but I’ll go with it for now), even sinners from Pride—why are they higher on the social ladder than imps and hellhounds? How did that come about?

Very interesting to me too that Striker is clearly not full-blooded imp (very sharky), but he identifies as an imp and also has some strong opinions on his own superiority to the rest of imp-kind. There is a parallel there to be drawn to the real world that I am unqualified to speak on and am going to back away slowly from, but it has been noticed. And it’s also noticed that Striker isn’t immune from the affliction of having deeper waters within, too. Dude has a backstory and I’d love to know it.

Striker is a damn good gunslinger, though, and that’s fun to watch.

Holy balls I finally found the frame with the higher-class demon (maybe lower-ranking Goetia? Given that she has pupils?) who has a purse imp. That is. Deeply uncomfortable, actually.

HA also found Striker’s wanted posters. “Preferably dead please” NICE

Such a change for how Blitzo answers the phone when Stolas calls this time, though. He might just be trying to keep calm and easy because Loona is so distressed, but I also like to think, given his reaction in a minute when he realizes how deep Stolas might actually be in it, that Blitzo might have cooled off slightly since Ozzie’s. They haven’t talked about their issues one jot, but time does tend to take the edge off certain wounds. Time, and having an adventure in the human world together involving their daughters, and maybe skipping a few full moons, it’s really unclear.

“What does he look like, your Highness?” “Hmm…sexy?” “That’s Striker, sir!” Never fails to make me laugh. Of COURSE that’s how they identify who’s got Stolas trussed up on the back of a horse XD Also, this episode is an important one not just for breaking everyone’s illusion about Stolas’ untouchable nature and power, but for breaking the last scrap of fantasy that Stolas is clinging to about the nature of his and Blitzo’s relationship. He isn’t taking this seriously yet, despite the blessed rope, and the fact that Stolas isn’t more worried makes me think he doesn’t know about the previous assassination attempt, because I think he’d be way more concerned if he remembered that this same guy tried to kill him with an angelic rifle. He might know. Because it would be just as in-character for Stolas to know but just shrug and move on because it’s not like anything happened, he’s fine, Striker didn’t get him and he hasn’t ever been seriously physically threatened before. This is another step in Stolas’ painful, painful growing up process. It hurts, but it’s shaping him into a demon who can maybe not just become better for Blitzo and for Octavia, but better for Hell in general. And by better, I mean more willing to look the social structure of it in the face and go “no, this sucks, actually.” Again, I don’t know that Helluva Boss proper is ever going to actually address and try to change these bigger social systems, because that’s a heavy and complicated topic, but providing fanon fodder to create those kinds of stories and fantasies for itself is not a worthless service either, actually.

And for folks who want to blame Blitzo for not coming himself, two things: one, Loona is and should be his priority and he isn’t wrong for that, especially given the suspicious difficulty in getting this necessary appointment (listen it COULD be Slothful negligence, but I think we all know there’s something a little more systemically classist, if not racist, about how it takes FIVE YEARS to get an appointment for a YEARLY SHOT that Loona NEEDS or she is vulnerable to a HORRIFIC DISEASE. If there are hellhound shelters, why aren’t there hellhound clinics with better supplies and this very important shot more readily available?). Two, Blitzo DOES start trying to get to Stolas. Look at the way he breaks the gear shift. Until Millie and Moxxie reassure Blitzo that they can handle this rescue mission, Blitzo is either gonna break the appointment to go handle it himself, or he’s gonna try to ram through this appointment as fast as possible to get to Stolas ASAP. He is trying. There’s so much going on. But Blitzo picks his priority, and he's absolutely right to do so. If Stolas and Blitzo ever discuss that, I doubt Stolas would ever blame him for it, even if he is still disappointed by Blitzo never showing up (necessary as it is to continue breaking these rosy glasses of his so he can more clearly see his reality).

It took me looking it up to finally realize that Striker has a different voice actor for this season. Dude does a good job; it’s close enough to Norman Reedus’ performance that I didn’t notice, but the deeper register does make him sound more dangerous. And sexy. Mustn’t forget sexy. I am fully in the camp that Stolas’ initial “Oh, shit” is because Striker giving off a sinister one-liner and crushing the phone is, in fact, hot. Not entirely negated by the fact that Stolas is finally being clued into the severity of his situation, either.

I genuinely have to wonder if cell phones in Hell are so cheaply replaced that you could probably get them from a vending machine, or if they have healing/regenerating capabilities somehow. That would be more interesting to get information on, actually, but it’s just a recurring gag, there will never be anything deeper there.

Blitzo checks in with MnM, but the fact that he both trusts them and can give them some quick instructions on where to start looking—he’s good at his job and he’s intelligent, okay, he’s SMART and I hope he KNOWS IT. His self-esteem might be in the toilet but I hope he at least knows how intelligent he is. And can we talk again about how Blitzo can spell out loud just fine? I thought maybe he just didn’t care to correct his texts (turned autocorrect off like a legend), but it’s his handwriting, too, that suffers from his horrendous spelling. Why is it that his writing spelling is bad but his spoken spelling is good? Continuity error? Funny bit? Actual medical reason?

Also. Why is titty-haver a recurring insult in this show? I can glean that it’s a flavor of sexism, but. Like. Never heard that one before. Why is it a go-to choice?? Just gonna file it along with “daddyfucker” and try to move on with my day, I guess.

Also, this scene is part of the reason why I spell it “Blitzo” and not “Blitz;” if Blitzo is constantly telling people the O is silent and Nurse Muffy here can’t find his name without that O at the end, then he clearly spells it with the O still (or he had to give his legal name when he made the appointment, but either way: the O is present even if it’s silent, and I’m still not going to hunt down that special character and train my devices to recognize it when we all know the O is silent, and this is the laziness molehill I’m dying on I guess). (I mean, besides, that slashed-O character is an actual character with an actual pronunciation, this is trying to use Cyrillic to spell out your edgy blog title with no regard for what the characters actually are or mean or sound like all over again XD)

I love that the “prick” comment is what causes Karen Fishbitch here to finally vocalize her displeasure instead of just throwing looks. That is so…White Middle Class Mom of her. To point out the most innocuous thing to get offended over. Ugh.

JOEL PEREZ DOES EXCELLENT IN THIS EPISODE OKAY. I didn’t realize he was the poncho-wearing singing imp AND the sleepy doctor but HE’S AMAZING OKAY.

Striker having a theme song that he has to beat off with a stick makes me giggle so hard. I feel like all this comedy is setting us up for something! Almost like it’s about to get really bad!

Cutting back to Blitzo, I love the little shows of optimism he still has now and then. He clearly offended this lady earlier, but he still tries to make conversation while they’re waiting. Just a decent thing to do. I do wanna talk briefly about the kid calling Blitzo a “fire-toad,” though, because that’s a new one. And given the very detailed shading on Blitzo’s frown, we know right away even before Karen says “it’s not polite to call them that to their face, honey” that what the kid just said was pretty offensive.

…and it DOES make me side-eye Ozzie calling Fizzarolli “Froggie,” just a little bit. It’s an adorable nickname. But if a slur for imps is fire-toad…it does give me some Questions. Might be a continuity error or just a terrible coincidence that I don’t think we’re gonna get any answers for (has this been brought up in a panel or anything?), and they’re different enough that I don’t think for a second Ozzie calls him that maliciously or even in a reclamation way. Fizz and Ozzie seem to have been together for long enough that if Fizz really didn’t like it, he wouldn’t tolerate it, so that’s what I’m gonna choose to trust for now.

“I am not from Wrath, bitch” THEN WHERE ARE YOU FROM. Pride is my guess, since that’s mostly where we see the circus, but watching this fish woman throw out racist comment after racist comment (and classist, too, get it all in there), it does make me wonder how many imps from other rings have to deal with the same exact thing. My guess is a lot. (And again begs the question that if imps are Wrath-native demons, how did they end up on the bottom of the totem pole? Especially when we now know Satan is a lava-bleeding brick shithouse with a hot voice??)

And gosh, look, homophobia from a bunch of biker cowboys now. This episode truly has it all!

(And, again, how hardy are imps?? Moxxie is stabbing that guy SO MANY TIMES in the background, good GRIEF—)

Nice to know that it isn’t just Blitzo who causes destruction everywhere he goes; all of IMP has that affliction :P

Stolas giving Striker so much sass is fun to watch, despite the classist undertones. “Your wife must really hate you.” “You have no idea” YEAH STOLAS GIVEN THAT THIS IS HIS SECOND MURDER ATTEMPT ON YOU SPECIFICALLY I THINK HE DOES KNOW. I would also really like to know where the giant statue with the unrealistically huge boner came from, actually. That’s a specific choice. I mean, all of his décor is, but Striker, why THAT??

The voice actor for Striker makes what I assume is a conscious decision with his voice when Striker snaps about how every ring can’t be some fancy city, when he talks about how some folks have everything they love taken away by royal demons. He’s angry, but there’s a note of…something…in his voice that I can’t find a word for. “Pleading” certainly isn’t it, “sad” maybe, “desperate” isn’t it but it’s in the neighborhood…I don’t know. It seems like he’s trying to get Stolas to understand Striker’s position, imps’ position in general. Which is odd given that he’s about to torture and kill him, and clearly doesn’t have any illusions about changing Stolas’ worldview in that time (or that it would even matter), but the slightly softer tone of voice is striking. Pun only a little bit intended. I don’t think that softness is for Stolas, but for his own loss. Which I want to know in all details now please yes. And even more than that, I want to know about the specific royal that fucked Striker over, and if they’re still out there. (Taking bets now that if it’s a royal we already know, it’s either Paimon, Andrealphus, or Vassago, simply because Vassago having a dark past element like that would be DELICIOUS.)

LET THE HURTING OF THE BIRD MAN BEGIN. I love that angelic steel has a sizzle to it when touching Stolas; really adds to the torture.

“All you royals ever do is try to talk over us!” Also specific and I don’t think to this particular situation. Striker doesn’t care that Stolas isn’t the one who fucked him over (presumably); Stolas being part of the class of demons that caused him so much hurt is enough. And this show is violent, but there’s something visceral about watching torture as opposed to Millie tearing through an entire crowd of sharks, something that hits different when watching Stolas’ blood spatter as Striker stomps on his stab wound. Stolas keeping up his fighting spirit and not begging or weeping is…complex, actually. Begging and weeping is a normal reaction, but one that audiences generally tend to read as weak (which is lame given that that’s how most of us would react tbh but we are talking about fiction I suppose), and since Stolas is meant to be a sympathetic character to us, it makes sense to skip that reaction for him. However. HOWEVER. There’s also context for why Stolas doesn’t react to physical pain in the way that Striker clearly wants him to.

The fact that he BARELY FLINCHES when he gets his FUCKING LEG SNAPPED? Hot, but also, “Blitzo handles me rougher than that in bed” I genuinely cannot tell if that’s taunting, or if he’s serious. It would not surprise me if he was serious, especially if higher-ranking demons have a healing factor (and I genuinely don’t remember if that’s fanon or canon, but the fact that Stolas and Blitzo both are surprised that Stolas can get hurt like this indicates to me that even if we don’t see a Goetia or a Sin instantly healing from a cut or anything that isn’t delivered by angelic steel, it’s a pretty solid theory to stand on). Then the stabbing into the broken leg, and “Blitzy’s knife is bigger, and hits so much deeper.” Again…making Striker angry on so many fronts and I respect the hell out of it: sexual overtones that will shortly be more explicitly shown to freak Striker out, lack of reaction to pain that Striker wants but isn’t getting, dismissing Striker entirely (and especially in favor of Blitzo, whom Striker has a little bit of a muddled past with)—this is a strong fucking reaction to torture that I fully believe only comes from prior conditioning. Now. Whether that means Stolas and Blitzo are into some very hardcore kink, Stolas is used to pain from other sources (Stella being the prime candidate), or some mixture of both…the implications of seeing a pampered prince not break under this kind of physical pressure are damn impressive for his character makeup and future arc. Physical pain is nothing to Stolas. Emotional pain, though…phew. He is not built for it. Which Striker attempts to hammer at too, starting with demeaning him, but Stolas is able to irritate him enough to buy himself some time. There’s the tear, which I believe is concession to the physical pain as well as the high emotions he’s operating under, but first round complete. Stolas is somehow holding his own despite being in a very bad place.

I also gotta question “you won’t be worth more than the tombstone you’ll be buried under” being met with “Blitzy says far dirtier things to me with much sharper objects at my throat.” Which. We don’t know if anything Stolas is saying is true (it might be), but Blitzo engaging in degradation/humiliation of that caliber and higher in bed begs some questions about Stolas’ social awareness. Questions that I’m content to let rest for now and see what the rest of season 2 brings, actually. I’ve already talked at length about how Stolas has his own internalized classism and racism that he needs to address, both for himself and for his relationship with Blitzo, so I’ll let it lie for now.

Still amazed that the same guy who voices Valentino of all bitches also voices this adorable sleepy little goat man doctor. THE RANGE. IT IS IMPRESSIVE.

Finally pausing to get a good look at Andrealphus’ Elsa Palace and…it really looks like it’s in a remote location of Pride, looking at the harsh landscape. I suppose Andrealphus just had to…Let It Go when he had this place built? :P (Let’s be real it was probably gifted to him.) Andrealphus’ existence as Stella’s brother raises SO MANY MORE questions for me, too. For a start, they’re two different birds, which I guess is okay since Paimon isn’t a bird at all and still produced Stolas (and Via is an owl rather than a swan, despite having some similar features). For another, Andrealphus has no pupils, like Stolas, and I wonder if the presence of pupils in a Goetia means something. Paimon had them, but he also has a malleable form. Stella has them, as does Octavia, but in the s2.5 trailer when we get shots of other non-bird Goetia members as well as Vassago, none of them have pupils, just solid red eyes like Stolas. In the book the Ars Goetia, Andrealphus is a marquis, ranked lower than Stolas (who is a prince); we can also assume Andrealphus is lower-ranked than Stolas because of Andrealphus listing off all of Stolas’ assets that they (he) would lose access to if Stolas were to be killed (rather than, say, stripped of and given somewhere else, since Via clearly isn’t ready to take her father’s place yet). Andrealphus having a very obvious and physical ability, though—that feels important, especially since Stella shows no such capacity.

Out of lack of ability…or lack of training? The Goetia being patriarchal is a huge possibility, though it hasn’t been outright stated yet (and it could just be coincidence based on the fact that there are way more male characters in the Hellaverse for some reason).

I love that they were just at a fancy tea place, and here Stella and Andrealphus are, drinking MORE TEA at his palace.

I’m gonna say this about Andrealphus’ treatment of Stella: while he does have absolutely flaming (icing??) homosexual energy…the things he says and the way he says them to Stella does come off as very uncomfortably close to incestuous. The more I think on it, the more I wonder if it’s Andrealphus mimicking an older family member or friend who treated Stella in a similar way to assuage her ego and keep her in line, since her temper has clearly been a problem since she was a child. “Silly minx,” “fiery vixen,” tipping her chin with a finger MULTIPLE times—absolutely YIKES behavior, especially from a clearly slimy and manipulative older brother. I suppose they could be adopted, or half-siblings, or even just with a significant age gap; we don’t know how old Andrealphus is compared to Stella. But even if his mannerisms towards her aren’t meant to imply something THAT gross, they’re still horrifically infantilizing and belittling. I don’t want to live in a world where Andrealphus is bringing a sexual element into interactions with his sister, so I will henceforth try to ignore it, but I won’t lie to you folks and say I don’t feel the discomfort or feel the vibe. (Also seems problematic to me to have a big brother character with gay-coded flamboyance also have incestuous tendencies, but the incest might be completely unintentional and just how it unfortunately came out looking. Maybe they’ll fix that in the future. Or maybe they won’t.)

Now, about Stella: she doesn’t seem afraid of Andrealphus, in fact bringing him up to Stolas as someone whose words she takes seriously. She listens to him, is guided by him, but there are some tiny hints and clues that suggest to me that Andrealphus is pretty good at corralling her, if he can’t contain her entirely. He’s fawning over her, gentle and indirect with his wording as he tries to guide Stella into a less rash course of action, until she seems to miss his point completely and then he snaps at her. Now. Does Stella actually miss his point? Or does she just not care? It seems even Andrealphus is taken aback by his own realization that Stolas’ stuff will all pass to Via. And it does not escape my notice that he calls her Via, not Octavia. Stella is unaffected by this assertion, happily living in her dream land where she doesn’t have to deal with Stolas anymore (and therefore gets to be a sexy widow and not a sexy divorcee, which might have a better social reflecting on her anyway, especially if she’s possibly going to get put back on the marriage market or even just search for a more suitable partner herself). She doesn’t care that Via will get all of his stuff. Does this mean she’s stupid and just didn’t realize it? I don’t think so. I think she’s secure in her knowledge that Via inheriting won’t budge her equilibrium. I don’t think Stella WANTS Stolas’ responsibilities and legions and powers. Andrealphus might, but Stella doesn’t. She likes to swan (lol) around being rich and pretty and throwing parties and not having an unsightly blight on her reputation like a boring husband who cheated on her with an imp and then divorced her.

Now. Andrealphus neglects to do something in this conversation that I find fascinating and may be more deeply indicative of how Stella feels about her daughter. At no point does Andrealphus admit the possibility of either manipulating/controlling Via once she gets Stolas’ position, or killing Via and inheriting that way. I don’t think this is because ANDREALPHUS gives two shits about his niece. I think it’s because STELLA might have one or two shits to give about her daughter—and Stella giving shits about something usually means screeching violence from her when threatened or insulted. I may be proved wrong in the upcoming episodes, but I think that with every horrible wretched action and word out of Stella’s mouth, it is suitably complex of her to still care in some capacity about Octavia. We DO NOT KNOW what their relationship is like, if Stella is neglectful or pushy or kind or cruel. We DO know Octavia cares about her mother, cares that Stolas doesn’t love Stella and is taking more time to fight back against her (though Via probably doesn’t see it as fighting back, just plain fighting, because I don’t think she fully understands how terrible Stella has been to him). Andrealphus not suggesting anything untoward happening to Via hints to me that he knows that would not be a productive route to take when trying to talk to Stella.

And Stella is the product of her upbringing just like Stolas: she’s been told all her life that she’s attractive and that’s her most useful quality, that she’s rich and that makes her better than everyone else, that her prettiness and richness are valuable, and hey maybe she’s stupid but at least she’s hot! Her temper is violent, and the fact that she goes to murder as a solution rather than trying to take him for everything he has in the divorce says something about her, too. If Via gets all of Stolas’ things, Stella is still going to be taken care of; she clearly expects her daughter to continue to care for her and maintain her, and if Via can’t or won’t, Andrealphus will. Wanting Stolas dead is about her pride, because how DARE he also be stuck in this boring as fuck and unhappy marriage and then try to get out of it? There is so much about Stella’s behavior that could hint at the ways she was belittled and molded into a seriously unhealthy shape by outside forces. It was her arranged marriage, too, it was her life decided for her from childhood too, it was her utility to produce an heir too. This doesn’t excuse her abuse, but guess what, abusers are also people and have complex motivations and often dark and hurtful pasts and those are important to examine too. Not because Stella’s actions aren’t her fault, but because when you have a female character in a show with a high ratio of non-female characters and she is the only living mother who gets any kind of regular screen time, you want her to have a little goddamn depth, dammit.

Exploring an abusive marriage where the wife is the abusive one is something that isn’t done enough in fiction, IMO; I don’t want apologetics for her, I want explanations. I want reasons. I want her to either be shown to be incapable of feeling conflict because of how badly she’s been screwed over and in turn has embraced her own awful behavior as a deeply maladaptive coping mechanism, or to go through some damn emotional conflict that won’t erase her mistreatment and abuse but will show that she isn’t a one-note harpy wife. Maybe she’s like this because she was made this way (and is too terrible a person to fix it which is absolutely on her but I think there’s blame to share for how she turned out this way in the first place). MAYBE I WANT STELLA TO STAB ANDREALPHUS THROUGH THE HEART WITH AN ANGELIC SPEAR WHEN HE GOES TO ATTACK STOLAS AND BLITZO LATER IN S2.5. MAYBE I WANT THAT.

ANYWAY.

“This kind of situation is extremely unique. A Goetia has never behaved like this before.” Alright I’m calling bullshit, but as I have said before, I do think the Goetia family is more than capable of covering up their scandals. Stolas being an odd duck (owl?) within his own family and thus his drama blowing up without anyone knowing it was coming because nobody bothers to check in on boring stuffy old Stolas (…still want to point out that he’s very young, especially for an immortal demon) is more likely, though.

And here we go, back to the Torturing Stolas channel, where Striker is getting tired of playing with his food and finally finds the ultimate weak point to press: Via. The fact that it makes Stolas go vengeful instead of tearful is another pillar to the STOLAS LOVES HIS DAUGHTER fact of the show. And the knife going all the way through this time makes me wonder if it’s going to have some long-term problems for him. He does have the arm bandage longer than any other bandage that we see, after all, even the broken and stabbed-up leg. I also really want to know what Stolas’ last words were trying to be. “Blitzo…will…” Blitzo will what? Come for him? Avenge him? And I love that Stolas wants his last words to be about Blitzo, not because he doesn’t love and isn’t thinking of Via, but because at this point, he’s already sworn to defend her (even if he really, really can’t), and keeping her out of the conversation is safer for her. Blitzo can handle himself. Via can’t, not against Striker. And Stolas already showed his hand by reacting so vehemently to Striker just mentioning her, so I have no doubt that if and when Striker comes back for Stolas or Blitzo in the future, Via is going to be playing some sort of role in that endeavor.

And not to drive home the point that Striker is poor AF despite being a highly successful assassin, but. Look at his flip phone. Look at the cute little charm on the flip phone. This dangerous violent man has a PHONE CHARM. What a DORK.

I also love that Stolas is so indignant at the idea of “we still need him alive to get some affairs in order.” He might just be reacting to Stella’s voice in general, now that he’s very clear that this whole thing was her doing, but. The AUDACITY of this bitch.

Who wants to bet Striker never got paid for this?

Now. The attempted eye-gouging. I’ve seen it floating around that “if you’re gonna threaten to blind a character, don’t be a coward and do it,” but. Come on. Let’s be a little practical, y’all: if they took any of Stolas’ eyes, they’d have to update the merch :P

THE FACT THAT THE IMP VAN BLASTS LA CUCARACHA. HELL YES.

Splicing the very real life-or-death battle with Striker with the still dangerous but more comedic battle of getting Loona her shot is such a good storytelling choice, actually. Cutting some of the tension while also making it that much more potent, especially as Moxxie and Millie start losing—cutting away from them right as they’re getting their asses handed to them to watch Blitzo getting HIS ass handed to him but in a less high-stakes way is maddening in the best way. Also: Striker’s face when the radio changes to something pop. Beautiful XD Damn this is a good fight scene though. Really showcases how skilled Striker is, because taking on Moxxie and Millie at the same time when they have very focused intent to kill is impressive.

…aaaaand Striker’s immediate discomfort at Moxxie’s unexpected sexual overtones wins me over again. The only sexual harassment I will allow: flustering the villain so the heroes can wreck his shit :P (Please know I am joking.) Tbh Striker has no room to talk, he is LITERALLY FUCKING DROOLING as he strangles Moxxie. This is clearly already kinda kinky for him. He just doesn’t want Moxxie to be into it (very “evil dentist from Little Shop of Horrors” of him).

I genuinely want to know how Striker keeps getting out of these situations. By all rights he should have been impaled on his own stone boner. Sigh. (And I cannot WAIT to see him come back after being burned alive; gonna be messy as HELL.)

Now here’s my question: how in the unholy heck are there so many reporters and paparazzi at the hospital already? I’m assuming Moxxie and Millie called ahead to make sure the hospital could get him taken care of ASAP as soon as they arrived, but what gossip mongers were crouched in wait for that? (Also, the doctors being plague doctor aesthetic: good stuff, very good stuff.) (IF STOLAS KEEPS CALLING THEM LITTLER ONES OR LITTLE CREATURES AFTER THIS ISNTEAD OF BY THEIR NAMES I’M RIOTING.)

And. The tail shot. And the surprise and vulnerability in Blitzo’s face and voice when he says “He can get hurt?”

BUCKLE UP BUTTERCUP YOU’RE ABOUT TO FIND OUT ALL THE WAYS HE CAN GET HURT IN THE NEXT HALF OF THE SEASON.

I need a minute I am WEAK.

Nooooo twinkly pretty heartbreaking tune how DARE you make this moment where Stolas’ final hope of his fantasies playing out, even just this one time, dies even more tragic. It’s so SAD, IT’S SO SAD. IT’S SO NECESSARY BUT IT’S SO SAD. Let’s make it worse: there’s a game you can play with picking flower petals off a flower and you say “they love me, they love me not.” Whichever you say at the last petal is the universe’s answer to the question of whether or not your beloved loves you. (Please keep in mind this is horseshit as far as reflecting reality goes but it’s a pretty sort of ritual to play sometimes.) Stolas is in a hospital room surrounded by so many flowers they cover the floor. A petal falls…he loves me. Stolas gets a text from Blitzo, hoping he gets “bivver swoon.” Stolas smiles. Responds with thanks, and invites Blitzo to come see him at the hospital. Blitzo types…and never responds. A petal falls as Stolas’ smile fades. He loves me not. Stolas sets his phone down. He rolls over, and another petal falls on his phone. He loves me. Stolas nestles into his hospital bed in contemplation. A fourth petal falls…he loves me not. (Though we don’t know where that petal winds up, and it’s a “he loves me” petal that lands on his phone, so maybe????)

I’m FINE.

I’m so fine that I am going to now move on to the next episode and I don’t have to wait for my misty eyes to clear AT ALL.

#quilly's hellaverse theories #helluva boss #helluva boss spoilers #quilly writing

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mgufm · 2 years ago

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SEPTEMBER 18 — OCTOBER 6, 2022 a setup @ mugunghwa, south korea

SEPTEMBER 18

6 PM

in the early evening of september 18, kojirō is taking a little-known shortcut to his next class, cutting through a secluded area of the green, when he overhears jiyeon and yua speaking in low voices. he hides behind a wall, and overhears them talking about miyoung and jisoo. he discovers the truth about miyoung and jisoo's relationship prior to jisoo's death, and overhears that neither miyoung nor yua plan to tell mina the truth. he quietly escapes the garden, leaving only the soft rustle of a rose bush.

SEPTEMBER 24

7 PM

mina, miyoung and mingze receive separate e-mails from detective lee sangwoo, inviting them to return to the police station for questioning on september 27. the detective tells them that there have been new findings in the case, concerning the relationship between jung miyoung, and the deceased, kim jisoo. they're told they'll be given a chance to revise their statement.

SEPTEMBER 25

9 PM

kojirō visits mina at her dorm and tells her everything he overheard at the green.

SEPTEMBER 26

8 AM

through her impeccably reliable and so far unfailing sleuthing, yua comes to find that mina, miyoung and mingze had been invited back to the police station for questioning on september 27. yua keeps the information to herself, though the thought to tell jiyeon crosses her mind, and has no contact with jiyeon until the next day, when jiyeon herself contacts yua.

10:30 PM

hours after attending a normal day at school, mingze walks into the police station in the late hours of the day, approaches detective lee sangwoo, and says he's ready to give his statement ahead of schedule. the detective agrees and puts him in the chair. mingze gives a tell-all of what he saw, sparing no details. when asked if mina knows about this, mingze says he doesn't know.

11 PM

mingze leaves the police station, picks up a bulky backpack he had stowed away behind an alleyway dumpster before entering the establishment, and walks to the bus stop. he waits for the last bus of the day that will take him to the pier, a one-way ticket burning hot in his pocket. it starts to rain. as he waits for the bus to arrive—any minute now—he decides to call ( bullet train ), knowing his close friend had mentioned wanting to leave town before. ( bullet train ) picks up after a ring.

( bullet train ): mingze? it's late. what's up? mingze: i gave my statement to the police and i'm leaving tonight. the last bus is coming in about ten. it'll go to the pier for the last barge off this damn island. we always talked about leaving, right? come with me. we can leave tonight and never look back. you can go anywhere you want, or you can come back home with me. we'll help each other figure it out, like we said we would. ( bullet train ): ... mingze: ... ( bullet train ): ... mingze: hey? ( bullet train ): i can't leave now, mingze. ... not anymore. i... mingze: what do you mean— ( bullet train ): if you asked me a week ago, maybe i would have, but things are... complicated here again. things are never as simple as they seem here, but i can't leave my family now. not when they'll get caught in the crossfires of this... mingze: what? of what? don't let them tie you down to this shithole. ( bullet train ): ... ... ... i'm sorry, mingze. i know everything, and i'm sorry about all of it. about this town, this school, this island... honestly, i didn't think any of it was real—or, maybe i always knew but i... but i guess... mingze: what are you talking about? ( bullet train ): don't look back, alright? don't ever come back here. your life is in danger here. real danger. whatever you think this island is, it's worse. don't look back, not for anyone, not even for me. got it? mingze: i don't understand. what about your life? what are you— ( bullet train ): you don't need to understand. the less you know the better. when you think of this place, or me, or anyone you knew, don't forget the pain you felt here. i'm sorry, mingze, but thank you for thinking of me.

the line goes dead. the bus arrives. mingze boards the bus, the boat, and doesn't look back.

SEPTEMBER 27

8 AM

miyoung walks into the police station as requested by detective sangwoo. he puts her in the chair and tells her that they've discovered new information about the case. the detective tells her that her and son jisoo were alleged to have had intimate relations a few weeks before his death, specifically, they were seen on the night of his birthday party on june 7, 2022. the detective asks miyoung if she can confirm this or not, if she continued to be in contact with jisoo at an intimate capacity after the date in question, and if mina knows of this alleged relationship.

"yes, fine, it's true. we... hooked up on his birthday then kept seeing each other after that. i don't know if mina knows. jisoo said she doesn't. i don't think she knows. ... if you want to know why i did it... i didn't do it to hurt anyone. or, maybe i did... i don't know anymore. it doesn't matter, right? i did it," miyoung answers. the detective is quiet for a beat, as if he's giving her more space to speak, but miyoung says nothing more. the detective notes her statement and lets her go.

outside the building, miyoung looks at her phone. her notifications are filled with texts from concerned friends asking about what happened with her questioning, and what she told the detective. miyoung replies to only one message.

jiyeon: what did you tell him?  miyoung: i told him i don't think mina knew. ok?

jiyeon does not reply for the rest of the day.

10 AM

yua accepts a call from jiyeon. "fire exit," says jiyeon, before dropping the line.

yua makes her way to the fire exit of maehwa hall.

"what is it, jiyeon?"

"you knew they were getting called in today and you didn't tell me."

"no, i didn't know, i—"

"save it," jiyeon cuts her off, "it doesn't matter now. i was waiting for you to tell me, but you didn’t. i had to find out from minhyuk. and if you didn't know—and i don't believe you—you should have known. i told you to stay on top of this, yua. luckily, miyoung is in her right mind and told the detective what he needs to hear—that mina didn’t know. i can’t get ahold of mina or mingze, so i don’t know what the fuck they’ve said.”

"jiyeon, i'm—"

"if you think i'm letting jisoo die for nothing, you're sorely mistaken, yua. i will do anything it takes to make sure his sacrifice isn't wasted. ... i didn't know he was at that building that night, you know. he told me he'd be at practice. ... but it doesn't matter now. maybe the less i know the better. but whatever he meant to do, whatever happened, it worked out for us. and i'll see this to the end, because i understand what's at stake here. we lose everything if we lose her. this is serious. this is life and death. and if you don't understand that, yua, i will make you understand.

( post mortem ) understands this. they know what needs to be done. they would die for this, because they understand. and they will die for this, if you don't start doing what you're supposed to do. are we clear?"

with teary eyes, yua nods.

"say you understand."

"i understand."

7 PM

jiyeon, minjun, yua, siyeon, nika and ( plaid ) receive separate e-mails from detective lee sangwoo, inviting them to return to the police station for questioning on september 29. the detective tells them that there have been new findings in the case and that they'll be given a chance to revise their statement. he provides no further details.

after receiving the e-mail, ( plaid ) invites mina to have dinner together. nika immediately texts yua, saying she wants to meet at once.

7:30 PM

nika and yua meet at a secluded area in the town's park. nika tells her that she had received an invitation to go back in for questioning. yua says she received the same message. nika tells her that she suspects it has something to do with a relationship between miyoung and jisoo. yua looks alarmed, and asks where she heard about this. nika says there have been all kinds of rumors going around about all members of the red and green club. when asked if it's true, yua nods.

"what will you tell the detective?" nika asks.

"the truth, of course."

"and what is the truth?"

"that she didn't know. none of us knew. i only found out at the party."

"is that what you didn't want to tell me at the party?"

"i was trying to protect you. the less you know the better, nika."

"you guys are always saying that. i don't know what you mean. i heard even mina told the detective that she knew."

"that's not true. you just have to tell the detective the truth, nika. we didn't know. no one knew. you have to tell the detective that she didn't know."

"how do i know that's the truth? i always feel like you're hiding something from me. there's... something you're not telling me. i don't know if she knew—"

"i know, i know—but you have to convince them that she didn't know. tell them there were no signs. you didn't see anything. you truly believe that she didn't know."

"why would i say that if i don't know that it's true? yua..."

yua continues to beg nika to change her statement. nika doesn't budge, and, with finality, declares she'll tell the detective what she thinks is right. she tells yua not to contact her for a while, then hurriedly walks away.

8 PM

over dinner at their dorm, ( plaid ) tells mina that they've been called back for questioning by detective sangwoo on september 29. "i've heard rumors about your friends... is there anything i should know before i go in?" ( plaid ) asks. mina looks off to the side. after a beat, she answers, "miyoung and jisoo were seeing each other. i didn't know about it. that's what i told the detective too. i really didn't know. that's probably what he'll ask you." ( plaid ) nods. the dinner continues on in silence.

11 PM

in the dead of night, minjun is woken by an unusual phone call.

minjun: yua? why are you calling? what time is it— yua: (distressed. urgent, hurried speech. voice shaking slightly.) have you told her? minjun: who? what? yua: jiyeon. have you told her we're going in on the 29th. i know you got the invite from the fucking detective, too. minjun: no, i didn't tell her. yua: tell her. minjun: what? you tell her. and she probably got the same invite, anyway. i dont'— yua: i can't, minjun. i can't— not again— she'll— it can't be me this time. but you have to tell her. tell her now. now.

the line drops dead. after a moment of thought, minjun decides to call jiyeon. but before he dials her number, he scrolls further down his contact list for another name. siyeon's phone rings.

siyeon: minjun? why are you calling me? minjun: have you told jiyeon that you're going back on the 29th? siyeon: what? no, i haven't. how did you— minjun: good. don't tell her. stay away from this, siyeon. we don't need you here anymore. you can leave. you should leave. honestly, if i could go back, i never would have brought you here. ... i guess, for that, i'm sorry. siyeon: w— minjun: don't talk to me about this phone call. i'll say i won't remember. my advice... leave town.

the line drops dead. presented with the idea of leaving town, siyeon decides to stay put.

minjun dials jiyeon.

jiyeon: what? minjun: we've been called back. you too, right? i think everyone in the club's going back on the 29th. jiyeon: thank you for telling me. you know what to say, right? minjun: ... jiyeon: remember what i told you at the greenhouse the day after the fire. don't forget what's at stake here, minjun. we can't let jisoo's death be for nothing. and you don't want to make things worse for your family, do you? for everyone's families. you have the power to help them. make everything the way it was before. minjun: ... yeah. yeah, i know. convince him she's innocent. i get it. jiyeon: good. make sure everyone else going in on the 29th gets it.

jiyeon drops the call.

SEPTEMBER 29

10 PM

after taking everyone's statements, detective lee sangwoo is unconvinced that kim mina was unaware of jung miyoung and son jisoo's relationship.

11 PM

detective sangwoo visits ( post mortem ) to ask for updates on the autopsy. after a short chat, ( post mortem ) gleans that detective sangwoo finds kim mina suspicious. they tell the detective that the official autopsy report will be out soon, but not that night. the detective leaves. yua emerges from behind a closed door where she'd been hiding.

"he suspects her," yua frowns.

( port mortem ) looks at the floor, then nods.

"what does this mean for you? for our family?"

( post mortem ) pulls out two sealed envelopes from their desk, and hands one to yua. "i've run out of time, yua. i can't stall him any more. this is the real report. the truth. and this," ( post mortem ) holds up the other envelope, "is what i'll be giving the detective tomorrow. yua, listen to me. the keepers' mission is real—you've known it all this time, haven’t you? or, at least, you’ve suspected. i’m telling you that it is. everyone on the island will lose everything if she's taken from us, but we don't have enough power anymore to decide the ending. i've carried the secrets of this town on my shoulders my entire life, yua, and i'm tired. i'm sorry you'll have to do the same, but... i am giving you a choice i wish someone gave me. i know you'll do the right thing—i'm just letting you choose who you'll do the right thing for."

yua takes the envelope handed to her. "what... why does it sound like you're saying goodbye?"

"we didn't convince him," ( post mortem ) answers, "you know what happens now."

"no, please—there must be some other way— some way we can—why would they—"

"power is what you want, yua. the power to change things. the power to not have to make decisions like this. but we've run out of that power. the only way we can get it back—that power, our lives—is to keep mina on this island. like we've done to her for hundreds of years. that means closing this case and making sure nothing falls on her."

"so, i should... i should burn this? make sure no one finds it? what does this even say? did mina kill jisoo?"

( post mortem ) shakes their head, the look on their face unreadable.

"i'm giving you a choice, yua. it's the best i can do—i'm sorry i can't do more. i can't free you from this... this town, this island. our family—every family on this island—has been doing this for hundreds and hundreds of years. it's what's kept us safe... comfortable... thriving. it's too late for me now, but... you get to decide if all this... this town, your family, your money, the life you knew, your legacy... is worth it.

that envelope... you can open it, burn it, hide it, show it to the other keepers... you can do anything you want with it, yua. but don't mourn me, okay? jiyeon was right. i do know what needs to be done."

yua returns to her family’s home that night, and hides the sealed document in a locked box under her bed. she attaches the small key to a charm bracelet nika had gifted to her, which she then starts wearing at all times.

SEPTEMBER 30

the official autopsy findings come out. son jisoo is declared to have died of asphyxiation attributed to the fire. the case is formally closed.

OCTOBER 6

almost a week after the case is closed, mundanity seems to reclaim the small town of mugunghwa. a sleepy silence covers the town like a warm blanket. radios and televisions hum almost too low to be heard, except in one household.

in the dark basement of detective sangwoo’s home, a tired television plays the news channel day in and day out. pictures and newspaper clippings and documents are stuck to a cork board, connected by red strings. case files and notebooks are stacked on top of a table.

BODY FOUND IN LAKE, reads the headline on screen.

‘the decapitated body of a 30-year-old woman was found on october 4 in donglim lake. authorities have performed an autopsy, but are unable to confirm the woman's identity as of now, as she possessed no identification and her fingerprints had been strangely burned off. we encourage you to approach the busan police department if you...’

"is that ( post mortem )?" ( brainchild ) asks, putting down a sandwich they had made for their father.

detective sangwoo sighs, "probably."

"decapitated? fingerprints burned off...? who would do that?"

"someone who wants to send a message but doesn't want ( post mortem ) to be found."

"what message? didn’t their family call?"

detective sangwoo shakes his head no, and sighs again. "they're dangerous," he says, "the people in this town. ... listen, i don't want you helping me with this anymore, alright? maybe you should go live with your uncle in seoul for n—"

"what? no, i'm not leaving you here."

"alright. just... just watch yourself, kid. and i know it’s a big ask because you go to school with them but... try to stay away from those kids from that club, alright? something’s off... i just don’t know what yet. you know what i always tell you."

( brainchild ) nods, "don't trust anyone."

detective sangwoo nods approvingly, taking a bite of his sandwich. “wait, one last thing. that mingze kid. any news about him?”

( brainchild ) shakes their head, “haven’t heard anything.”

ooc info . this concludes act one ! ic , we’ve now entered the month of october 2022 . our next event will begin on october 11 ic , so feel free to plot interactions up until that date but avoid setting plots after .

these events were decided by character choices . some dialogue and individual statements were omitted from this plot drop to keep it from becoming toooo lengthy . if you’ll be writing about these omitted instances , please include the dialogue verbatim and try to modify as little as possible . pages will be updated to include all characters’ revised statements + all new info over the next few days .

the canon liu mingze is now considered departed . the skeleton post mortem is now considered deceased . see our guidelines for deceased / departed characters .

if you have any questions , just ask !

#mguplot #mguacti #tw death #this is a long post as it was supposed to be two plot drops but i condensed as much as i could to make it into one plot drop

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doomsayings · 11 months ago

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Hey I’ve been reconsidering my job and was thinking about being a flight attendant too. Is it hard to become one? Would you recommend it?

Hi there anon!!! This got kind long so I put it below the cut…keep in mind I’m a US-based flight attendant

I don’t think it’s a very difficult process but it is very long….It can take a few months to up to a year, depending on the airline, from the moment of application to training to actually working. Training usually takes about 6 weeks, and I don’t think it’s hard especially if you have experience with studying/test-taking. What lots of my classmates found more difficult than anything was being away from home and being under pressure.

Which kind of leads me into whether or not I recommend it! It’s a little cliche among flight attendants to say that it’s a ~lifestyle~ but….it is! I think before even applying it’s important to think about whether or not you could be happy with the reality of the job which is that 1) you will be away from home and loved ones for long periods of time and 2) you will have an unpredictable schedule.

With most airlines, you’ll start off on reserve. That means you’ll have a period where you’ll be on call and the airline can call you to whatever trips, whenever there’s need. You won’t know your trips ahead of time or how long you’ll be away… every single airline has different reserve system, I highly suggest researching them!

Even though there’s been moments I’ve been screwed over by reserve, I still love the job deeply. It suits my personality and lifestyle a lot, I love being able split my time between cities, I love traveling, I love meeting a new crew every trip, and I actually love how much time I have off when I’m not working. It’s not a normal 9-5, so I usually have 3-4 days off on any given week. Its also extremely flexible to choose my days off, I can ask for a week off straight and get it. That being said, I’ve also had to work 6 days straight, I’ve worked red eyes, i regularly wake up at 4AM to be at the airport, I’ve had to work 16 hour long days with delays and diversions.

ALSO….research the pay. It’s kinda rough which is why many airlines are on the verge of striking.

BUT I STILL love it so much. and on the whole it works for me! I could never go back to an office job. I love my layovers and I love my benefits. But I don’t usually recommend it for like, 99% of people. Watch videos and research and see if you can imagine yourself doing it! If you have any more specific questions feel free to message me privately.

Good luck on your potential flight attendant journey!!!

#asks

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wildrangers · 2 years ago

Text

Chance Encounter // Jake Kiszka

Jake Kiszka x fem! reader

Word Count: 3.7K

continue here

Summary: After a chance encounter at the bar, what happens when she realizes she now has to work with Jake and the guys?

Multi-part, lovers to friends to lovers tale ahead!

Warnings: Smut (oral, f receiving; penetrative sex; rough-ish sex; dirty talk; mirror play; mild praise/degradation kink)

*18+ only, smut below the cut so leave now if you're not 18*

You walked through Republic Records’ doors, heeled boots clicking on the floor. A few moments later, you were setting your work bag on the hook next to your desk in your new office. You had worked at Republic for several years but this new space was the first of your own. Stacey had been mentoring you for months at this point, preparing you to take over the day-to-day management of one of her bands.

She’d insisted on waiting until today to tell you which band you’d inherited which did nothing to help the butterflies in your stomach. Normally, day-to-day managers assisted multiple bands but given your background in social media, you’d be taking that role over, as well. It would streamline the process for the label and for you—you could really give them your full attention and get to know them as people, not just clients.

You threw on your current favorite playlist as you scrolled through your emails, waiting for Stacey to arrive for your final meeting before the handoff. Your eyes darted down to your work messaging app, a small smile lighting your face as you took in the message:

Babe, you’re going to absolutely kill this new job!! Whoever you’re managing is so lucky to have you.

Lindsey and you had worked together since the beginning of your time at Republic, both of you starting the same week in the quickly growing social media department. You had clicked immediately, bonding over your love of similar music, movies, and books. You shot back a quick thanks as someone knocked on your door, Stacey’s head soon appearing in the crack.

“Ready, Y/N?” she smiled, sitting down across from you after you’d waved her in.

“I’ll feel more ready once you finally tell me who I’m managing” you teased.

“I get it, but I really wanted to make sure you had the nitty gritty stuff down before worrying about the band-specific information, especially given how much time you’ll spend with them. I didn’t want you to go in with preconceptions.”

You nodded, understanding her logic but knowing your stomach wouldn’t settle down until she finally told you.

“We decided you and Greta Van Fleet would be a good fit, given your personality and skills along with their needs” she smiled at you and your heart leapt into your throat. You weren’t an avid listener of their music but you were familiar enough to recognize their songs if they came on the radio—you also knew they were a much higher profile band than you were expecting for your first assignment.

“Wow, Stacey, thank you. You’ve been with them since they signed here, right?”

“Don’t thank me—you’re ready and you’ve earned it. And yes, they’ve stuck with me so I’m a little protective of them. They’re really good guys and honestly, they’re who I’m going to miss the most” she sighed sadly.

Stacey had been with Republic for over a decade but she’d gotten an amazing opportunity closer to her family. With a new baby, it was a no-brainer for her to take it but you knew she’d been getting more emotional as her final day approached.

“You know I’ll do whatever I can for them” you assured her, reaching over the desk to clasp her hand in yours. She shot you a grateful look returning the squeeze.

The next couple of hours passed quickly as she went over all the necessary details—their upcoming tour schedule, the new album they were working on, what social media platforms they were on, and what their goals were. As she walked you down to the conference room where the luncheon was being held, your head was spinning a bit with all the new information. She’d given you a list of their social media handles but you hadn’t had time to actually look at them yet—you figured that would be a good place to start after your introductions.

As you reached the door where Stacey’s going away lunch would be held, you heard laughter on the other side and for some reason it stuck out to you. You couldn’t bring a coworker to mind who it went along with but it sounded familiar for some reason.

You were torn from your thoughts as Stacey gave your shoulder a squeeze before opening the door. You smiled as you heard cheers erupt from inside. You waved at coworkers before quickly following behind Stacey as she approached who you assumed to be GVF. Stacey was hugging a smaller guy with long hair whose back was to you. You noticed three other smiling boys waiting their turn and you shot them a nervous smile and wave. Before they could respond, Stacey stepped out of the embrace and your heart dropped as the man turned around and his eyes met your own. Shit.

You were frozen in your spot a few feet away from Jake as Stacey moved to greet the other guys. Jake’s eyes were wide and his face paled as you two stared at one another for a long moment. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart as Stacey turned to introduce you to the guys, not knowing you had met one of them the previous weekend.

“Boys, this is Y/N! She’s going to be taking over my role and also growing your social media, so no more dealing with multiple people—she’s your girl now” she beamed, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“I’m really excited to work together” you smiled at them, avoiding Jake altogether.

You moved out of Stacey’s arms as the tall curly-haired boy stuck out his hand, “I’m Danny, we’re looking forward to working with you, too.” You gripped his hand before quickly making your way down the line, meeting Sam and Josh before finally reaching Jake.

“I’m Jake, it’s nice to meet you” he said through a close-lipped smile. As his hand wrapped around yours in a friendly shake, your mind flew back to last Saturday night.

***

You were on the dance floor of your favorite spot downtown, hips swaying to the live band onstage. The last few weeks of work had been so stressful that you were desperate to lose yourself in some live music.

As their setlist wrapped, you made your way to the bar to grab a drink in-between sets. You waved the bartender over, ordering a glass of water as you settled onto the stool. Your eyes wondered the room as you waited—you’d always loved people watching and a busy bar on a Saturday night made for some solid entertainment. You thanked the bartender without taking your eyes off the couple arguing next to the dance floor. You smirked to yourself as you watched the girl wildly gesticulating with her hands as her boyfriend kept his eyes on the floor, nodding occasionally.

“Do you think she caught his eyes wondering or something more?” you heard a voice ask from nearby. You turned to see honey warm eyes staring at you intently.

You mulled it over before responding, “He tried to dance with me earlier and she was nowhere in sight so someone must’ve tipped her off to check on him here.”

The guy hummed to himself as he settled on the seat beside you. “Looks like we may get to see a break up then, huh?”

“Nah, if she was going to dump his ass she’d be gone by now” you theorized.

“Wanna make a wager on that?” he asked, smirking.

“Depends on what we’re betting.”

“They break up, you buy us a round; they leave together, I buy us a round?”

You pretended to think it over as you sipped your drink, his stare heavy on you the whole time. You set your drink down and offered him your hand, which he took with a grin.

“I’m Jake, by the way. What brings you out tonight?” he smiled at you, still gripping your hand in his.

“Y/N. Work has been crazy stressful so I just needed to blow off some steam.”

“What do you do for work?”

“This may be surprising but I work in the music industry” you joked, causing him to laugh.

“You work in the music industry in Nashville? That is shocking” he teased back. You opened your mouth to respond when you heard gasps from near the dance floor. Your head whipped around just in time to see the man from the argument holding his cheek as the girl stormed out of the bar.

“Holy shit, did she slap him and I missed it?” you asked, craning your neck to try and see.

“It sure looks like it, you rubber necker.”

You scoffed, turning back to face him, “I’m sorry, I’m the rubber necker? I recall your chat up line being bets on the outcome of their fight.”

“Fair enough, but either way you owe me a drink” he smirked as you rolled your eyes but waved the bartender over again.

The next few hours passed in a blur as conversation and alcohol flowed easily. You noticed several girls’ eyes lingered on Jake as they ordered a drink or walked to the dance floor. It made you wonder if you were missing something—these stares seemed like more than just admiring a random guy at a bar.

Finally, the band you’d been waiting for came onstage and you pulled Jake onto the dance floor. His hands quickly found your hips as you turned your back to him, singing along and swaying side to side. You covered his hands with yours, drawing them around your waist as you moved farther back into him as you danced. You felt him inhale quickly before his hips began to move with yours. You were that pleasant level of buzzed where you were still present in the moment but felt fearless in a way you never did sober.

You turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck and slotting your leg between his to grind against him further. His pupils were blown out as his gaze danced between your eyes and lips. Emboldened, you placed a light, tentative kiss to his mouth, pulling away half an inch to gauge his response. You had half a second to catch your breath before he crashed his lips into yours, hands roughly gripping your hips.

His tongue traced your bottom lip and you quickly opened your mouth further. His one hand gripping your ass while the other pressed into your back, drawing your bodies flush against one another. You were lost in the feel of him, the fevered nature of his kiss, the dizzying rush of electricity coursing through your veins. You soon felt him growing hard against you, drawing a soft moan from your lips as heat began pooling in your core. He pulled away just enough to move his lips to your neck and you quickly threw your head back to give him better access. Your eyes were shut, all your attention on the feel of his mouth and his hot, quick breaths against your skin.

As much as you didn’t want him to stop, you also wanted to do much more than you could in a public place. You ducked your head to whisper in his ear, “Want to come back to my place?”

His eyes were half-lidded with desire as he nodded, grabbing your hand. Your apartment was only a couple of blocks away but the trip took longer than normal, the two of you pausing several times to lose yourselves in the feel of each other’s lips.

As soon as you unlocked your apartment door, you two hurtled through it, Jake slamming you back into the entryway table in his eagerness to get his hands on you again. He quickly captured your bottom lip between his, sucking roughly as your hands frantically fumbled with the bottom of his shirt, dragging it off over his head. You tried to guide him backwards towards your bedroom but he lost his footing on one of your cat’s toys, almost falling to the floor.

You tried to suppress your giggle at the panic in his eyes before he regained his balance but it was quickly cut off when his mouth was on yours again. As you crossed the threshold to your room, he quickly removed your shirt before guiding you to your bed, the back of your knees hitting your mattress seconds before you fell onto it. His hot breath tickled your collar bone as he kissed his way down to your breasts, quickly unhooking your bra so he could wrap his mouth around a nipple.

Your breath caught in your throat as he roughly kneaded your other breast before switching, repeating the motions. There was nothing gentle in his touch but you didn’t want there to be. It had been so long since you’d slept with someone and you were desperate to feel how delightfully punishing he may be inside of you. He lightly nipped your nipple causing you to look down at him, his blown-out pupils overtaking his whiskey-colored irises.

You pulled him up to you, your hands moving to unbutton his jeans and he quickly kicked them off before capturing your lips again. Your tongues fought for dominance before he pulled away, placing wet kisses and gentle nips down your body as he made his way to the waistband of your jeans.

“Okay?” he questioned, his voice rough, as his fingers found the button of your jeans. You eagerly nodded and he unzipped them. However, the sweat you’d shed from dancing for hours kept the denim stuck to your thighs and he breathed out a laugh as he fought to remove them from your body. You joined in his laughter, lifting up and wriggling your hips to assist him. He triumphantly threw them to the floor and laughter ceased as he ran his fingers down your center over the fabric of your underwear.

You leaned on your elbows to watch as he rubbed you, placing bites and kisses along your hips and thighs as he teased you. His hands were expertly dancing around the one spot you wanted them most and you whined, making him smirk. His eyes locked on yours as he tugged on the waistband of your underwear and you held his gaze as you lifted your hips for him to remove them. The intensity of his eye contact magnified the ache you felt as he ran a finger up your slit. He groaned as he felt how wet you already were and he sucked on his finger, eyes fluttering shut at your taste.

You lifted a hand to tangle in his hair desperately guiding him towards your core. “Enough teasing, please, Jake.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely” he replied, plunging two fingers into you. Your gasp at the sudden intrusion turned into a loud moan as his mouth wrapped around your clit. You had never been with a guy who knew how to use his fingers and mouth in perfect rhythm but Jake sure did. He curled his fingers slowly, another sudden intake of your breath alerting him that he had found your spot. You knew it had been a long time for you but you still felt embarrassingly close to climaxing already.

You opened your eyes to gaze down at him and you gently brushed his hair off his face to get a better look. His eyes darted up to yours and you nearly lost it as he winked before returning in earnest to your pussy. As you felt yourself tightening around his fingers, your arms gave out and you fell back fully on the mattress. You gave his hair a rough tug as your orgasm overtook you, earning a deep groan from him as he lapped you up.

He quickly moved up to meet your eyes as he offered you his two fingers, coated in your release. You moaned as you took them into your mouth, not breaking eye contact as you swirled your tongue around his fingers.

“You like to watch, huh?” he asked, his fingers still in your mouth, as you nodded. “I wish you could watch yourself cum, it was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

His eyes darted around the room before landing on the standing mirror near your bedroom door. Your gaze trailed his and you whimpered, quickly following where his thoughts had strayed. You took advantage of his distraction, slipping your hand into his boxers and wrapping your hand around him. His head dropped down to his chest as you roughly stroked him—he was already so hard against your palm and you marveled at how thick he felt.

“If you want to watch me fuck you, you better get your hands outta there” he murmured, eyes meeting yours.

“Please” you whispered and he quickly wrapped his arms around you, lifting you up before placing you on the floor.

“Get on all fours” he commanded and you eagerly did as he said, ass in the air as he dug around in your nightstand drawer for a condom. You felt suddenly shy as you met your own gaze in the mirror, taking in your flushed face and kiss-swollen mouth. You felt him settle behind you and your eyes met in the mirror as he slowly lined himself up with your entrance.

“Still okay?” he asked. As much as you appreciated him checking in, you were desperate to have him buried inside of you. Holding his gaze, you thrust your hips back, delighting at the sudden feeling of fullness. He let out a surprised gasp, pausing before grabbing your hips to slam into you fully. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you lost yourself in the brutal rhythm he immediately set.

The room filled with lewd sounds—skin on skin, wetness slapping, moans from both your mouths. Normally, you were a little more reserved your first time with someone but you didn’t feel that was necessary with Jake. “God, you fill my cunt so fucking good” you ground out, eyes opening to meet his in the mirror. He smirked at your foul language, understanding exactly what you wanted from him.

“Yeah? You like having my cock buried in your pussy, you little slut?”

You let out a loud moan at his words, your fingers reaching up to circle your clit. “God, yes please don’t stop” you begged.

“I won’t on one condition, pretty girl” he said, his hands tangling in your hair.

“Anything” you let out, body tensed and ready for whatever he asked next. You let out a gasp as he yanked your hair, pulling your back flush to his chest as he kept fucking you roughly.

“When you’re about to cum, I want you to watch yourself. Can you do that for me?”

You quickly nodded, your fingers picking up speed as you felt him lose his rhythm slightly—you knew you were both so, so close.

“Such a good little whore” he breathed into your ear and your climax crashed through you at his words. Your eyes shot open as you met your gaze in the mirror and the sight only added to the intensity of your pleasure. You screamed his name as your legs gave out, his arm quickly wrapping around your waist to keep you upright. As you felt yourself coming down from your high, your eyes moved up to meet his again. His face gleamed with sweat and strands of his hair were plastered to his temples—he looked so fucking beautiful.

“Your turn” you whispered, wrapping your arm around the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. “I guess I’m not the only one who likes to watch, huh?” you teased, earning a whine from him as he dropped his chin to your shoulder, clearly fighting to keep his eyes on you in the mirror.

“Cum for me” you commanded him and his mouth dropped open as his hips slammed into you one final time, frantic groans filling your ears. You rolled your hips back into him and he bit down on your shoulder to hold in his shout of pleasure. You two stayed like that for a moment, his forehead now resting on your shoulder as you both caught your breath.

“Fuck” he breathed shakily as he pulled out of you. He gently placed his hands on your hips, guiding you to the carpet so you wouldn’t fall as he stood up. While he cleaned himself up, you simply laid on the floor, slowly feeling yourself come back into your body.

You heard him clear his throat and you sat up to see what he needed. “Where do you have a washcloth?” he asked, leaning against the doorway to your bathroom. Your heart warmed at the implied offer but you shook your head.

“I appreciate it but I’ll just jump in a shower once you’re gone.”

He seemed to recoil at your words and you knew he caught on to what you meant: that this would be a one-time thing, nothing remotely serious. Even though the sex had been amazing, you knew better than to think a one-night stand could lead to some kind of worthwhile romance.

“Oh, um, sure” he mumbled, fumbling around your room to pick up the layers of clothing he’d shed.

“It’s nothing personal, really, that was fucking incredible. We both just know this was a one-time thing, so why drag it out, you know?”

“Sure, I get it. I’ll be traveling soon anyway” he shrugged, but his eyes wouldn’t meet yours and your heart deflated a little. You shook your head at the sensation, standing up to pull on your underwear—you suddenly felt very exposed as he quickly dressed himself. Just as you pulled your baggy sleep tee over your head, Jake nodded your way and quickly left. You heard the front door shut quietly and you made your way out to the living room to lock it behind him, ignoring the sad, sinking in your gut.

***

“Great to meet you too, Jake” you forced a smile, thoughts racing faster than you could catch them.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed, please let me know your thoughts or if you have any feedback :)

#jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka imagine #greta van smut #greta van fleet x reader #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet #jake kiszka smut #chance encounter

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raggaraddy · 3 years ago

Note

Tae’s first time with a virgin if your still taking requests?

Virgin

A/n: Thank you for the request! It was fun to write. Enjoy xx 💜💜💜

Trigger warning: Smut, first time, oral, D/s themes, examples of a bad D/s dynamic, dirty talk, mild spanking.

Taehyung

Dom!Taehyung

You pull out your phone and type the message. Over and over. Deleting it and re-writing it about 30 times.

Until you see the typing bubble pop up on Taehyung's side.

If you have something to say, get it out. He writes.

Damn. You really should have written this on paper first. But too late now.

You had spoken with Taehyung for months and had met him in person for the first time last week. With clever wording, so far you'd gotten around telling him your secret. But you know you have to tell him before your first play session tonight. You don't know if a guy can tell or not, but if he can it's going to be embarrassing if he finds out that way.

It's not like you haven't done things before, you were probably more experienced than most when it came to other areas. You've played with other kinky people before, hooked up with girl friends and guy friends, and you've had a full D/s relationship that was filled with BDSM. It's just that you'd never done that one thing.

Really, you don't even know why you held onto it for so long. At first, you were trying to be smart and not give it away too quickly or easily, but then it almost became something you had a sense of pride in and tried to protect. But Taehyung was special. Someone you felt connected to. And you know, it's time to get it over with. Both telling him and the act itself. You have to simply rip the bandaid off and tell him. He shouldn't be mad. You didn't exactly lie about anything.

Its just about tonght :)

Please don't be mad. I ddnt know how to say it before

But you should probably knwo I'm a virgin

Three separate messages. Typed so quickly they're riddled with spelling and grammar errors. The words are not nearly as well prepared as you had wanted. But at least it was done.

The read symbol appears, and then nothing. Staring at your phone for what feels like 5 minutes, there is no reply. You're running over a dozen new messages, typing them in your head first. Wanting to explain that you didn't lie and that everything you told him, you really had done.

Typing the first word, his answer finally comes through. Only 3 words that make you relieved but also anxious from their conciseness.

See you tonight.

After spending hours getting ready, it was finally time to meet him. You came to his house and were perfectly on time. Although, you had a moment of concern thinking you were at the wrong address. When Taehyung said he had a big apartment you hadn't expected it to be a 2 story, riverside, penthouse in the middle of the city. He never wanted to tell you anything about his job, and now you were a little worried he's someone famous or that he runs a drug cartel or something.

Feeling a bit out of place and with the upcoming plans looming ahead of you, you start the night filled with nerves. However, Taehyung's confident demeanour as well as some casual conversation and a few drinks, eventually help you start to relax. And soon you're even beginning to get a little impatient.

A mix of anticipation of what is to come, steadily becoming tipsy, and having not touched yourself for a week, your mind is already running with all manner of dirty thoughts. But unfortunately, you're far too shy to initiate anything so you are entirely dependant on Taehyung's schedule. And he is taking it slow.

Normally, he would have a girl naked and on her knees by this time, but you were special to him, also. And especially now knowing that you're a virgin, he is determined to make the night last. Sat on the couch with him, there are small touches here and there, provocative topics of conversation, and his commanding tone of voice that makes you melt. Your excitement peaking as he passionately kisses you, pulling you onto his lap.

Nearing 2 hours of talking and teasing, Taehyung finally starts the main event. Taking you with him into the most stunning playroom you have ever witnessed. An industrial meets a minimalistic-modern theme. A beautiful king four-poster bed, with an x-frame top, a wooden headboard, and a white canopy. Making you think that this must be where princesses who liked to get spanked come to play.

Never parting his lips from yours, slowly and gently Taehyung undresses you. His delicate removal of your clothes and his tender kisses are in explicit contrast to the sharp, rough tugs on your hair that he uses to move you around. The combination making your skin burn with lust.

Sitting you in the middle of the bed, he remains fully clothed. A prickle of excited nerves shivering up your body. You're beyond needy and ready. Your hands starting to pull at his shirt, unable to refrain yourself any longer.

"Please," you whine. As his mouth comes off yours, you pull him into you a little firmer.

"What do you want?" Taehyung asks. His voice coming out deep and lowly spoken.

"I want," you gulp trying to think of what to say. Your face heating. "you?"

"That wasn't convincing." He moves forward, his hand pressing to your chest, pushing you flat onto the bed. "I asked you," Leaning over, his mouth comes to your breast, sucking your nipple. Your gasps turning to moans as he bites down before repeating himself. "What do you want?"

"Whatever you want, Sir." Your hands cling into the blankets trying to stop yourself from digging them into his perfect dark hair instead.

Looking up he smirks. "Mmm, when you call me that," he grabs your wrist, bringing it to his crotch. Pressing your open palm to the hard bulge straining in his pants. "it really turns me on."

You whine as he pulls your hand away. You'd been fantasizing for weeks about what he must feel like and now you were so close to having what you dreamt of.

"Don't worry about me, Y/n. I'm going to get what I want. But what I want right now," his hand suddenly cups your pussy making you gasp, "is for you- my horny, wet, little virgin," instinctually you spread your legs wider and his middle finger presses deeper, slipping between your folds making you wail. "to tell me what you want."

"Anything," You're trying to make yourself say more, but your mind is swimming and you're glowing with embarrassment thinking about actually saying what you want him to do to you. His piercing stare, his beauty, his hard cock, you're aching to have him. He knows what you want. It's not fair for him to make you ask for it.

"Y/n," your eyes lift to his face upon hearing his rumbling voice call your name. "Have I given you the impression that I tell you to do something so I can hear my own voice?"

Your eyes get big as you chew your lip, shaking your head. Even his light scolding is turning you on.

"Good. Then I'll ask you one last time, and if you make me ask you again, I'm going to put your panties back on, and they won't be coming off again tonight." he purrs making you whimper at his threat. "I was going to accept your little two-word answer, but now you've made me ask you multiple times, so you'll tell me in detail. What do you want me to do to you, little girl?"

You feel like curling under the blanket from shame, but you start to push the answer out. "I want... you... to," you swallow looking down, "fuck me." You can see his eyebrow raise, telling you to go on and give him the specifics like he asked. "I want to have you inside me, Sir. I want," you're thinking of the next words while feeling near to tears from discomfort. Unable to even glance at his face. "I want you to be the first man to fuck me." It's nearly inaudible by the end of the sentence, but you get it out. Hoping it's enough to make him happy.

Finally building the courage to look up, Taehyung is brimming with satisfaction and hunger. Looking ready to devour you.

His fingers gently hold your chin, lifting your head a little higher to meet him as he hovers over you. "Thank you, Y/n." He says softly, making your stomach swarm with butterflies. His warm reaction has you even more confident in your choice. "Put your arms above your head, and interlock your fingers." He instructs hushedly.

Too eager to follow his order your arms stretch above you, knocking into the headboard making your wrists bend. Holding your hips, Taehyung yanks you down the bed giving you the space to hold your arms out straight.

Pressing down on your wrists his face softly becomes more serious "You're not going to move your hands at all until I say. Not in any direction. Do you understand?"

With a little smile, you nod. Already having fun. "Yes, Sir."

"Good girl," he praises making you blush for what is surely the 100th time tonight.

He releases your hands and you push them down making sure to follow his order.

Slowly Taehyung shifts down your body, his fingertips lightly tracing down your arms and your sides, making you flinch and squirm. Fighting through being ticklish to hold still and keep your position.

Setting between your legs he continues to play with you. Your eyes clenching shut as his touch runs down your neck, your chest and stomach, gripping your thighs, tracing your lips. His fingers softly pinching your nipples producing a moan, your hips bucking up as your breathing deepens.

Moving lower still, Taehyung pushes your thighs wider. Lifting one of your legs he has you bend it upright, kissing from your knee down your thigh. Trailing lower until his lips touch your core making you bite your lip to stop from crying out. Needing to bite back even more vocal cries as his tongue flicks out, kneading against your clit. Starting to suck and lick you. Your legs spreading further on their own accord. Quickly losing your senses to pleasure.

His nearly painful grip on your hips jerks you down, pulling you into his tongue as it dives inside you making you cry out. Instinctually, your hands want to cling onto him and lift an inch from the mattress. Quick realization making you panic and slam them back flat.

Soon you're fussing, calling out his name as the flat of his tongue strokes you, eating you like a man starved. His long fingers deep inside you, massaging you in the same insisting manner. Pushing you to the edge without pause. Cumming with a yelp you bite your cheek in lieu of your arm. Your orgasm not stopping him, instead, he spreads your legs further lapping up all of the juice you spill. And just when you can't stand anymore and your body is starting to shake, he finally springs up smacking his lips with a satisfied open mouth grin. Wiping your cum from his face.

Flopping onto the bed alongside you, he rests over you again, kissing you deeply, letting you taste yourself. Leaving you breathless when he finally parts.

"How are you doing?" He asks, his mindlessly touch once more trailing along your skin. "Good?" he presses for confirmation.

"Yes," you giggle, feeling lightheaded in the afterglow. Wanting to touch him back you, accidentally lift your arms off the mattress again. "Oh," You gasp, settling them back.

Raising up, he leans on his elbow. Digging into your joint hands, he clicks his tongue. "How many times did you lift your arms? Hmm?"

"Um," You feel like your cheeks burning under his inquisitive gaze. In truth, you hadn't counted. But you think at least 7 times. "Seven," you whisper.

"And how many times did I say you could move them?"

Your mind races for a moment trying to remember exactly what he said. You don't remember him saying a number though. And you realize it's a trick question. "None?" you squeak.

"That's right." He hums.

Sitting upright, he abruptly sticks his hands under you, flipping you onto your stomach in forceful motions. Trying to not break position, you stay straight keeping your arms flat to the bed. With a last tug, Taehyung pulls you onto your knees, your elongated arms and aching your back makes your face burry into the mattress.

"Seven," He says. His large open palm smacking your ass harshly. He doesn't count down the rest, but in your own head, you do. Each stinging slap only worsening your hunger.

But it doesn't matter how desperate you are, Taehyung isn't nearly done with you. Over the next 90 minutes, he touches and toys with you. You come serval times from his hands, his tongue, from toys, and even once from your own hand as he makes you get yourself off.

As the events go on, he gradually undresses. His own needs getting dire, he also cums, letting you suck him off and swallow his load. But soon after he is hard again. Getting too much enjoyment from teasing you with his cock, seeing you become a mess. And no matter how many times you cum, it is the part you want the most. At last, though, he addresses your needful craving.

Putting you on your back, you can see the switch in his eyes and the intent behind it. Laying over you and resting on his elbows, he lines up with your entrance. Your body almost shaking with expectation.

"What do you want little girl?" he repeats, his own breath strained with desire.

You no longer have any apprehension about saying it. You've never wanted anything, anyone, inside you more than you want Taehyung right now. "Please fuck me, Sir." you pant, tilting your hips up, your motion rubbing his tip through your dripping folds.

This time it's Taehyung whose exterior cracks. Dipping in your warm opening makes him groan. His jaw tensing, he has to restrain himself from slamming his dick inside you. He wants to do it. He wants to make you scream and writhe, and take his dick all at once. But he knows he can't be cruel. He knows he has overcome his baser instincts and be patient.

Pressing his lips to yours, slowly, carefully, he starts to edge his hips forward. His cock sinking inside you. Inch by inch. Allowing you the time and space to adjust to him. And you're grateful for it. He's stretching you and the deeper he goes the further you're being spread. The size of him, his thickness is larger than any vibrator you've used before. Or anything else you've had inside you.

Breathing lightly, shortly, your hands are clinging to the blanket. Your eyes fluttering closed. Feeling him fill you is beyond your wildest imaginations, and right now you wish it would never end.

"Fuck," Taehyung whispers, his entire dick buried inside you. Your virgin walls tightly constricting and twitching around him. With a few heavy breathes, he calms himself. "How does that feel Y/n?" He asks, half teasing you, half genuinely checking on your well-being.

Words have left you. Your mind is delirious. You can only whine and nod stiffly. Your hands wrapping his back draw his body against yours. Mutly begging for him to continue.

He gets your meaning and is all too happy to oblige. Keeping a slow, steady pace, he lifts his hips. The rubbing making you fevered. And when he sinks into you again, he sets up an even pace of long deep strokes. Rocking into your over and over and it isn't long before any hint of pain is replaced with pure euphoria. Your legs shaking and shivering.

"Such a good girl." He moans into your lips. "You're taking my dick so well," Starting to pick up the pace, your moans come out more unrestrained. A kind of vibrating static filling your brain.

As his thrusts become more empowered, the low ache returns. Hurting just enough that it's helping the incredible sensation build. After several minutes, one of Taehyung's hands lowers to your clit. The external pressure causing electricity. Enhancing the pleasure inside. Quickly the combination overwhelms you and you can feel pleasure in your core unlike any other. As if every single cell in your body were crying out in joy, you lift and fall, exploding in ecstasy. The sensation turning your stomach, aching the back of your jaw from how hard it hits you. Taehyung's tongue filling your mouth, he swallows the breathless screams of your orgasm.

"Oh god, Y/n, you feel so good." Taehyung groans, his thrusts not slowing any. Your body floating, your mind ringing in orgasmic relief.

The pulsing inside you seems to last for an eternity. And even after it fades your oversensitive body is still quivering from his unrelenting motions. You're exhausted and wrecked and now that you've cum, his size is starting to make you sore.

"Did that feel good?" He purrs. Your moans of pleasure turning into whimpers as his pace begins to pick up. Pushing on his chest a little, you're breathing too hard to vocalize your thoughts. But Taehyung can read your actions.

"You can take a little more, cant you, baby?" He coos, pressing deep and holding it, grinding his hips down. Making you squeal in pleasurable pain. "You wanna make me feel good don't you?"

He stops moving, pulling back a little to give you space to breathe and to hear him clearly. You nearly sigh in relief. The tip of him was pressing too far. Your eyes open as his hand comes to your face, making you look at him.

"Can you be a big girl for me while I fuck you?" he kisses you lightly, sucking your bottom lip. "Do you wanna be a good little girl and let me use you, let me fill you with cum?"

Even with your body depleted, you don't need to think twice. You want all of that. You want him to cum inside you. You want to make him happy, whatever it takes. Not looking away from his eyes you nod. A little scared, but mostly turned on and excited at the idea of him using you to get himself off.

Closed lipped, his mouth lifts into a smirk. His eyes getting prideful at your agreement.

Easing into you, his breath becomes shaky. Again he bottoms out inside you and you whine in pain. With your approval given he isn't waiting on a slow build this time. He's rock hard and your warm wet cunt is driving him crazy. He knows it's going to hurt you. But he also knows you won't need to endure for very long. He is already nearly ready to burst.

Quickly his thrusts get faster and rougher. Extending his arms he raises up and lifts one of your legs for leverage. His chest pushing down on the back of your thigh spreads you deeper and shoves him even further inside you.

You can't contain yourself at that point. Crying out with every thrust. Your skin is covered in goosebumps. You can tell he is still restraining himself, but it's easily too much. You're drained and tender. And he's too big and rough for you to handle.

But despite your discomfort, you force yourself to stay still. Repeating a mantra over and over in your head that you want to be good for him.

Sweating lightly, Taehyung is pounding you until all of sudden, with a final solid snap of his hips, his movements faltering. A chesty moan pouring out of him as his body falls heavier into you. Your raw sensitive walls twitching as they are flooded with warmth. Several small jerking thursts pumping all of his cum into you before he drops his weight.

Letting your thigh drop back down, he rests on his elbows on either side of your head, his heavy breath fanning your face. Lightly brushing his lips to yours he kisses you through a smile.

"Such a brave girl." He mutters.

You're so tender that he has you mewling even as he pulls out of you. The movement makes you wince.

Gasping, you're surprised you can actually feel his cum shifting. It feels like it's going to run out of you. Clamping your thighs shut, your face glows again with embarrassment. You're not sure if that is supposed to happen. You thought it would stay inside. But in any case, you don't want to make a mess on his bed.

With a last satisfied grunt, he drops onto his side, leaning on his arm while still hovering above you.

"I'm so proud of you. You did so well." He smiles warmly, brushing your hair off your face, wiping away your sweat. "How do you feel?"

How do you feel? Sore, exhausted, thoroughly use, but mostly,

"Good," You grin sleepily, leaning into his touch.

"Good." He whispers back.

Shuffling a little higher, he pulls a pillow down and nudges it under your head. His arm going under your neck he wraps his other arm around you, hugging you. As you roll to your side and cuddle into him, he takes the hint and draws you in tighter. His hands rubbing up and down your back softly.

"I had a really nice time tonight Y/n." He kisses the top of your head, his chest tightening against you. "Thank you for letting me be your first."

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unoriginalmess · 3 years ago

Text

A Second Mask: Chapter 4

Did that just happen?

Hello guys! It's me. I'm finally writing again. Sorry about the delay. I'm going to explain more at the end of the chapter, but I'm just going to keep the beginning short. So here is chapter 4:

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

To say Adrien was concerned would be a huge understatement. He was downright disturbed. Its been weeks and still Marinette hadn't changed back to the happy, peppy, nice girl that he knew. AND SHE WOULDN'T EVEN TALK TO HIM ABOUT IT!

He tried to talk to her for a whole week after her original trasformation, but after the repeated firm rejections, he stopped altogether. He figured that maybe with some space, she might be able to work through whatever she was going through, but at this point, he's losing hope.

When he is feeling this distressed about something, he usually turns to his lady, but she has been acting weird too. Ever since she suggested they start sparring, she's started to show that she is going through kinda a rough time as well. She is the same ladybug when everyone is watching, but when it's just the two of them, she looks sad and tired. She has also started saying some concerning things while they are sparring. She has started talking about how she has started taking being Ladybug and the Guardian more seriously, and how she has less distractions now, which would be a good thing if she didn't say them so sadly.

The good thing is, the sparring has given him a chance to get out his aggression because of the whole Marinette-situation and his anger at his father in a safe environment. He didn't like the idea of hitting Ladybug at first (especially in the face) but with her not holding back on her hits, he felt more comfortable doing the same. It has helped them fight better too. He hopes that whatever Ladybug is going through in her civillian life will work itself out soon, but until then he will be there for her. He just needs to figure out how to be there for Marinette.

•••

Felix was making good progress with Marinette. After they first asked marinette about (insert fashion question of your choice here, I legit know nothing and I didn't have time to research anything for this chapter), she had started answering their questions on a daily basis. After a couple of days of that, she had started to rant to them about different things in the fashion world that were bothering her, exciting her, or confusing her that particular day. In response to that, they had started to respond to her rants with their own opinions on the subjects and even start their own rants.

It had gotten to the point where Felix would now consider them to be friends, though they know that Marinette would never call them as such, it was fine with them. They know she has trust issues, and they can understand why, so they are fine with being friends in everything but a name.

Felix was looking forward to their daily banter as they waited in their seat for Marinette to arrive. When she did, she was followed by a very pissed-looking Alya. Felix turned to look at her and noticed that she had what looked to be tears forming in her eyes. What they didn't notice was the little black butterfly that had entered through the window in the back of the room, and was making a beeline towards her.

•••

Marinette walked to school in yet another one of her newest fashion creations: a pair of oversized grey ripped jeans and a navy blue sweatshirt. She was actually really liking her new look, and the comfort that it offered was just an added plus.

She was actually feeling excited to talk to Felix about Gabriel Agreste's newest fashion flop. They were the only person that she had met that actually cared about fashion as much as her. It made her happy to talk to them. It kind of scared her how excited she was. Shouldn't she be distancing herself from everyone? she thought to herself. No. Felix isn't my friend, they aren't close to me, they are just someone I talk fashion with. Like a coworker, yeah. Totally. Felix is just a coworker. ("Liar" says the inner voice in her head)

She was shocked out of her thoughts when she was pulled to the side by someone as she entered the courtyard. Her mind immediately thought of an akuma, when the person spoke.

"Marinette! Girl," Oh it's just Alya. Wait Alya? "How long are you gonna keep up this cry for attention? Are you really THAT jealous of Lila? I know that Adrien likes her, but that doesn't give you the right to act like this! And you are hanging out with Felix, who accused her of sexually harrassing Adrien on their first day here-?" She looked absolutely furious at her, but Marinette had heard enough. She cut Alya off in the middle of her presumably long rant.

"ALYA!" Said girl jumped at both the inturruption and the tone of voice used, "First of all, this isn't a cry for attention, if anything its a cry for leaving me the fuck alone. Second of all, I'm not jealous of Lila. I'm not in love with Adrien anymore, and haven't been for a while. You knew that I was dating Luka right? Why would I care who Adrien likes? Lastly, I am allowed to hang out with whoever I choose, whether you like them or not. It's none of your fucking business Alya, and if you think that I'm just some jealous, attention-seeker why do you even care?" With that last question she stormed off to the classroom, leaving a speechless Alya behind her.

When marinette sat down in her seat, she just kept thinking about how Alya was just talking to her. How could she think that about her? They used to be best friends, and Alya wasn't even concerned about her not talking to her anymore, she was just concerned about her being "jealous of Lila". It made her so furious that she could feel tears trickling down her face. She sees the black butterfly out of the corner of her eye and without hesitation grabs it out of the air.

(Next part is taken from this post by @bigfatbreak)

"Go ahead and akumatize me- See what happens, Hawkmoth!" She screamed the words with a slight madness that the energy of the akuma was giving her, "Every leash has two ends! I just have to pull until I find where you're holding it!"

At this point, the entire class was frozen in place watching her and listening to her crazed-sounding voice threaten an actual terrorist. Marinette felt Hawkmoth's confusion and terror through the bond. What in the- She's sensing me through the Akuma?! The akuma then started to fly away, and when it couldn't it zapped her hand like it was made of lightning and fluttered through the same window it came from. Marinette felt like she had failed yet again and collapsed down on her desk, muttering, "Uuuuggghh. It escaped anyway... What a waste. I didn't realize that Hawkmoth was such a coward. He usually likes grandstand..."

She was startled when her hand was picked up by Felix's, "You likely scared him off by managing to locate him like that... A risky move, I should mention. I would ask that you not attempt that a second time. No one knows what his akuma is truly capable of. You'll want to keep off of this hand for a while, too."

"Oh, are those the doctor's orders? Why, Felix, it almost sounds like you care about meeee." Marinette was all too amused by Felix's concern for her. She also liked to tease them... AS COWORKERS DO.

"I have an investment in your presence. Now don't be cheeky and let's get you to the nurse's office," They said while holding her wrist and gently pulling her in that direction.

Marinette scoffed, "'An investment in my presence'??"

Felix chuckled while still semi-dragging her by the wrist towards the front of the room, being careful not to hurt her injury even worse, "What did I just say about being cheeky?"

On their way out of the door they passed a VERY distressed-looking Adrien. He seemed to be sharing the sentiment with the entire class of: Did that just happen?

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

And thats chapter 4. It is VERY LATE! I know. I've been swamped with work, and when I went to write it, I had zero ideas on how to write this chapter. I never ended up getting those ideas. I just went where my writing took me, so if it doesn't really match the characters that's why. I will try to be better at updating regularly, but it probably won't happen. Sorry to everyone with a normal sleep schedule, but this is the time that I write things. Also I didn't have my outline with me while writing this chapter, so it might not have everything I planned to write in it.

I would like to thank you all for all of the support I've been getting on this fic. Despite all of the chapter delays, you guys have stuck with me through all of it, so thank each and every one of you. I love seeing so many people loving this au as much as I do. Without you guys this story wouldn't exist, and I would've stopped writing it after the first chapter.

As always, constructive criticism is always accepted. I love being able to improve my writing whenever possible.

Thank you for reading. Have a nice day/night/whenever you are reading this. See ya next time guys, gals, and non-binary pals.

Taglist

@queer-illusion @apasponsor @heckinggremlin @1-ahiro-1 @hewantedbeefintheparkinglot @sassakitty @lennauts @rianoel @dorkus-minimus @khneltea @welp-that-was-unexpected @mlnchlymrshmllw @lovelyautumnsunflower @chariphrasis @lovesbooks @komatsuna-yuki @polyvirnl @innocentlyguiltyfrenchfry @qhobias @ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole @hammalammadamdam @cloudydaysomewhere @alcoholic-barney @basenikon @xxbehindthemaskxx @corporeal-terrestrial @shadowymemoirs @moonlight-densetsuu

#a second mask #feralnette #feralnette au #felinette #miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #adrien agreste #felix culpa #marinette dupain cheng #here it finally is #idk why some of the tags arent working

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inkmemes · 3 years ago

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young royals ( 2021 ) sentence starters ↪ taken from netflix’s swedish ya drama. non-contextual spoilers. trigger warning for mentions of sexual activity, drugs, alcohol, death, implied internalised homophobia, bullying. alter as you see fit ♡

“at least you can stay for a cup of coffee?”

“hey, wait up. did you sleep together?”

“he's probably making out with someone. forget it.”

“i can't take it anymore.”

“what are you doing?”

“and he had to finish your sentence. what's going on? you like him.”

“every time you see your dad, you get all depressed.”

“you're still here, so obviously you must want something.”

“are you high? what the hell are you on?”

“does this make you horny?”

“i like [town name], but i don't want to live here forever.”

“you can leave now. go home. i'm staying here for the weekend.”

“do you want chocolate?”

“how do you feel?”

“it's kind of hard to tell them apart, you know.”

“you're a worthless drunk.”

“you … you need to figure out what you want. and you can take all the time you need. and i respect that. but you have to do it by yourself. i don't want to be anyone's secret.”

“you have to stop pretending that you're not afraid.”

“that's the thing, i just don't want that.”

“it's something new. something fresh.”

“can we talk privately for a minute?”

“and if anyone gives you a hard time, you know, just let me know, and i'll take care of it.”

“you do know you don't need to hide?”

“are you gonna let us in?”

“promise to let me know if there's anything i can do.”

“hey, we won't go blind from your moonshine, right?”

“i'm just getting a good vibe. that's all.”

“you're so fucking pathetic.”

“you realize that this will have consequences?”

“he's such a fucking idiot.”

“i wanted us to have a few minutes alone.”

“when you're young, love feels like the most important thing in the world.”

“i really like you.”

“felt like i had to rescue you from that situation.”

“it got so damn hot in there, i thought i'd get some fresh air.”

“you are allowed your own opinions. it's cool.”

“i've seen the way you look at each other.”

“here, this one is a little big for me, but i think it'll look great on you.”

“do you think royal dick is different than regular?”

“you're the only one here i feel i can actually talk to.”

“i haven't heard anything yet, but i'll tell you as soon as i do.”

“you can't just lie here jerking off.”

“i don't want to go to some fucking boarding school!”

“i've missed this place so much.”

“are you going to horror movie night on friday?”

“but i like you. and that is not fake.”

“you don't need to share everything.”

“we should go to a concert again sometime.”

“you're fucking crazy!”

“where have you been? i've been trying to reach you.”

“just don't use the school's wi-fi for porn surfing. could be embarrassing.”

“but no matter what, they can't dictate what you say.”

“sorry about last night.”

“i don't want to talk to you!”

“i don't wanna sound like an idiot.”

“i was thinking, would you like to have a sleepover at my place? because that's something friends do. it's going to be really cozy.”

“i think maybe we should forget about that.”

“you can't really see that it is you.”

“i mean, it could be anyone. it's so fucking stupid.”

“i don't want to say anything.”

“now you're doing it again. you're trying to take care of me.”

“i can take it, it's okay.”

“that's not true. i haven't spoken to my parents.”

“we haven't done anything wrong.”

“you're beautiful! you're so beautiful.”

“i'm gay, [name].”

“seriously? what the fuck is your problem?”

“you keep letting people piss on you!”

“i just assumed you didn't want special treatment.”

“keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“so you thought you'd start spreading false rumours without having any proof?”

“i just didn't want to lose you.”

“uh, there's pizza left if you want some.”

“everybody thinks you're perfect. you know that, right?”

“he's just been outed.”

“i'm going to fuck this up.”

“he bloody ruined my fucking life!”

“why are you sitting in your room sulking when you have a crush to hang out with?”

“hi. sorry, i was feeling a bit better. so i thought it was okay that i hung out with some friends.”

"everyone should be allowed to live as gay or straight or whatever they want.”

“i woke up in my own bed. that's always something.”

“could i just have one second? just one second alone, please?”

“i’m sorry. but it was, like, the only way.”

“i thought, everyone deserves a second chance.”

“i'm sorry about the mess. i wasn't expecting such distinguished company.”

“i just don't want you to be treated badly again.”

“oh, fuck.”

“you don't even… aren't you even gonna answer me?”

“i didn't know that one was supposed to sign up.”

“in real life, you don't pay to get ahead.”

“and what the fuck does your dad do?”

“let's try to have some table manners.”

“it's, like, really serious.”

“who the hell can live like this for three fucking years?”

“that's what happens when you buy the cheap ones.”

“i need your help with something. ”

“being a prince is not a punishment, but a privilege.”

“it's awesome to just chill out.”

“or maybe he lied about that too. what do i know?”

“you have to give people a chance.”

“you have to try to see it from my perspective.”

“what the hell's this?”

“what happened to "we should forget about it"?”

“stop being so fucking stubborn and try to understand my situation.”

“sometimes it's better not to say everything.”

“i was just bored.”

“have you ever had a boyfriend?”

“sometimes it's better to keep quiet.”

“can i get you some coffee?”

“nobody else cares about these things.”

“i lost track of time.”

“everybody does the same things and everybody knows everybody.”

“thanks for rescuing me yesterday.”

“remember when he came up to us the first week and was like, "what's up?"”

“i need you to delete all our texts.”

“i can't keep doing this anymore.”

“are you gonna let them go on with their bullshit?”

“i want to be with you.”

“here's a blanket, a pillow, and bed sheets. there you go.”

“okay, yeah. you don't seem to have grasped what i'm trying to say.”

“it's usually boring as hell.”

“he's been dealing to us for months.”

“i don't want to talk to him.”

“don't you wanna date [name] anymore?”

“i don't know why he's started texting me again. he knows i don't want anything to do with him.”

“yeah, we had a shitload of drugs.”

“we could murder someone, and nobody would say a word.”

“she needs some fun.”

“he's just doing it to fuck with me.”

“it's such a weird question.”

“i just wanted to say hi. i don't believe we've met. ”

“but i still want us to be friends.”

“if i were to stay here… would you… like to keep me company? just you and me.”

“everything's, like, upside down now.”

“have you always lived here?”

“damn it. sorry. shit. i completely forgot.”

“i'm sure someone has a story to tell.”

“you've got to put yourself first. i mean, no matter what he thinks about it.”

“come on! you can't just sit there stuck in your room.”

“you can snuggle up in my safe arms if it gets scary.”

“i want to live a normal life.”

“let me have a look. you can hardly see it.”

“any other dick that's been sucked?”

“you just expect everything to be on your terms.”

“i want to know everything!”

“you don't have to go there. i'll take care of myself.”

“has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?”

“i'll just stay in and go to bed early.”

“thanks for explaining the schedule.”

“i'd rather die.”

“i don't want you to be mad.”

“promise to tell me if something is wrong.”

“i can't be dressed like this if you're dressed like that.”

“it's really complicated.”

“it feels like you don't care what people think about you, or if you have a lot of friends and stuff.”

“nobody asked you to come. feel free to leave if you want.”

“well, nobody has ever, ever asked for this!”

“there isn't so much to do around here.”

“you've become such a snob.”

“i know you're only trying to help me.”

“do you like it here?”

“i don't wanna go in there. we're not even invited. fuck this.”

“don't you think it's weird [name] invited us to come?”

“if they hadn't been here, would you've, uh, made out with me?”

“so, you're an actual proper couple now?”

“you're thinking about someone else.”

“you're right. we're doing this together.”

“thanks… for nothing.”

“why are you even so obsessed with him?”

“i want you to hold me.”

“call me when you want to be picked up.”

“what the fuck do you care?”

“i don't think we're a couple or anything. i don't know what it is.”

“you never asked me!”

“your focus should be on comforting me so that i can comfort him.”

“it's not that hard. you have to be able to keep up appearances.”

“famous people make videos like that.”

“maybe somebody forgot to tell me, as usual.”

“just make a move on [name] and show him what you want.”

“you wanna stay a while and jam?”

“have you talked to your parents about it?”

“a diverse bunch of losers, who'll never amount to anything.”

“why can't i decide how the hell i want to live?”

“apparently, i'm the only one who doesn't know everybody.”

“i used to have straight a's on every test.”

“it will damage our reputation.”

“i'm fucking starving.”

“why is it called tax "evasion" but welfare "scam"? it's all right that rich people cheat, but when poor people do it, it's messed up. for rich people, it's not even called "welfare”, it's called "deduction."”

“what the fuck is rowing?”

“what the hell have you done, [name]?”

“good voice, man.”

“why can't i just have a relationship with him?”

“did you have fun last friday?”

“all the people are fake. they're made out of metal.”

what do you want me to say? i'm sorry!”

“is this some kind of prank?”

“i like you when you are yourself!”

“but you like him, don't you?”

“she shouldn't talk to you like that.”

“are you into him?”

“something's not right, i think we should head back to the road.”

“do you have trouble sleeping?”

“doesn't anyone care what i want?”

“just don't tell anyone that i've been here.”

“i was going to text you back, but…”

“your only mistake was that you hung out with the wrong kind of people.”

“i just wanted to help.”

“i know you'll use anything to get high or drunk.”

“it's time to stop being so selfish.”

“i just want my fucking money.”

“you should've planned ahead. didn't you bring a sandwich?”

“who the fuck wants to be normal anyway?”

“you fucking told me you were the one i could always come to!”

“i take it back.”

“i can see there's something going on.”

“i have to finish getting ready, so if you could please leave.”

“no one likes me when i'm myself.”

“i hope you have a nice christmas.”

“i'm gonna do the wrong things, say the wrong things.”

“my mom is gonna kill me.”

“do you remember what you said to me last night?”

“i cannot be dragged into this.”

“i like you too.”

“you're no longer a part of my family.”

“it's well-suited for smaller people.”

“i assume that he thought that it would make him popular.”

“i didn't ask for this!”

“it's no problem. i like doing it.”

“it feels like i'm gonna throw up.”

“don't i get any breakfast?”

“whatever i do, i can't do anything right.”

“we haven't been to any party whatsoever.”

“did you get my texts?”

“i think it sounds romantic.”

“uh, wait, you have to come to the horror movie night on friday.”

“i liked what you said in there, [name].”

“okay, maybe he used to be a player, but love can actually change you.”

“it's nice to make an effort and dress up for dinner.”

“i'm in a fucked-up situation and i'm trying to talk to you.”

“you don't understand. i was gonna pay it.”

“you're not that kind of guy.”

“i was about to go outside and, um, do you wanna come with?”

“what about me?”

“it was… okay, i guess.”

“can i sit with you?”

“you call this a scary movie?”

“i have a million things to take care of, i don't have time to talk to you.”

“have you lost it completely?”

“but i'm starving.”

“this past year has been difficult for me.”

“i don't get it. she's making it into such a big deal.”

“no, this won't work. just take it off, please.”

“i'm not like that.”

“fuck you. it's not a crush.”

“then i know that i can't count on you.”

“can't you come see me in [town] sometime?”

“it's just that we can't be seen together.”

“he was still sleeping when i walked in.”

“doesn't bother me at all. i've seen it. absolutely. 100%.”

“[name] is really getting on my nerves! seriously.”

“i want us to be friends again.”

“i thought you and [name] were friends.”

“make sure you check your dms. okay?”

“you think it's fun to fuck with people like me?”

“never spend money you don't have. okay?”

“you think i'm stupid?”

“this sucks.”

“how nice to see some smiles.”

“this isn't just about me, but my entire family.”

“i'm going to marry her.”

“are you threatening me?”

“don't you realize the shit storm that follows if i come out?”

“i don't want you to talking to her.”

“remember what we saw during movie night? when they sat next to each other?”

“i love you.”

“i just want to hang out with you.”

"there's no point in having a back-up if you never use it."

“pretend i'm saying something clever.”

“how's [name]? he must be totally devastated.”

“what do you think they think we're talking about?”

“everything is fake. everything in the world is fake.”

“[name] is dead.”

“it just wasn't what i thought it would be like.”

“since when did you start liking him for real?”

“what a fucking douchebag. god!”

“what the hell are you saying? chill out!”

#rp meme #rp prompt #rp starters #rp sentence meme #rp sentence starters #it's long but i like my memes chunky <3 #lemme know if u'd prefer i do things in parts tho !#also everyone watch this show immediately :knife:

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stagemanagerssaygo · 4 years ago

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Heaven and Hell: or my experience being a person of color in Disney’s Hyperion Theater

by Cooper Howell

Heaven and Hell: or my experience being a person of color in Disney's Hyperion Theater. #holdingtheateraccountable Im just gonna go ahead and be straight up. This is pretty scary to share. HEAVEN: Once upon a time Liesl Tommy cast me as Prince Hans in Frozen: Live at the Hyperion. And I was gooped. GOOPED. There was nothing in my prior history that gave any indication this was possible. Up until then every role I played had to do with my race. Every. Single. One. And even ones where it didn’t (Shakespeare or classical pieces mostly) I was always made aware that the novelty of me being a poc in that role that gave me the part. So much did I not expect to get this part that when I got the callback I rolled my eyes and didn’t take the actual callback seriously. I mean, there was a zero percent chance that Disney would ever let me play a Prince, especially when the dude in the movie is a ginger. But then I got it. And immediately everything I thought was possible about my career changed. My whole life I’ve never inwardly felt black. I’ve never inwardly felt white. I’ve always felt like I was Cooper, you know, on the inside. But whether it was every single white human in Utah reminding me that I was “the whitest person they ever knew/saw” (which DIDNT mean how white my skin was. It was how white I ACTED) or Mr. Johnson, my 7th grade drama teacher, telling me that he “wanted to put Velcro on the ceiling to see if I’d stick” or Mr. Smith, my high school drama teacher, saying “finally we can do black shows” as soon as I entered high school and then not casting me in roles because of the "optics" of it, or even my best friend in high school Tanner Harmon who called me "blackie", I was always reminded that I was an other. So imagine getting paid good money to put on that $10,000 costume and waltzing out to 4000 people a day to play a really amazing part. A fantastic, evil, complicated, person who sings a killer duet and then grabs the show by the throat with a vicious about-face monologue... and not once was my race ever mentioned cuz it didnt matter. What was being prized was Cooper, my talent, not my skin color that I never asked for. Heaven. Liesl MADE SURE, almost overly sure, that the poc’s in the cast felt equal. The kingdom of Arendelle, after all, is a make believe place. It can be whatever. From having Disney executives come and tell us that they were happy to have us there, to side conversations with John Lasseter, we were made to feel overly welcome playing the parts we were playing. She encouraged us to dive deeper into the script of a cartoon that I didnt really think much of until I was in it. We were encouraged to ask why. We felt seen as talent and not commodities. There were, of course, detractors. Gosh, I remember people at a party of cast members from "Mickey and the Magical Map" another show at Disneyland which features a princess and the frog number and many of those casts mates angrily claiming that “if that black girl Tiana Okoye can play Elsa than I should be able to play Princess Tiana” and then looking at me to confirm that was okay to say, not realizing that a) she’s one of my best friends, b) that I’m in the show with her also playing a role that wasn't created to be a poc, c) how racist that sounded, and d) why there's a difference there and why that wouldn't make sense. On Liesls final night I came up to her and said “I don’t know why you did it but thank you so much for casting ME in this part” to which she replied “you mean why would I cast a handsome, talented person in this role?” And I stuttered something like “well, I mean, I’m black. You know...” to which she tilted her head to her side and said “no. I don’t know why. Tell me why that matters.” And I had no answer. Seeing that I had no answer she smiled. That was the answer. There was no reason. On the spot my outlook about myself changed. Windows into what I thought was possible for me opened. -------------------------------------- HELL: And then Liesl went back to NYC and she was replaced by a man named Roger Castellano as show director. Rogers task, he told us on the first day, was to "change the show". We were not told what needed to be changed or even why, but that changes were on the horizon. You've got to understand: to a full cast of actors who had just spent more than three months dissecting a 60 page Disney script with a Tony nominated director like it was Shakespeare, we were initially emotionally/mentally/spiritually resistant to changes. But then it became clear that the spirit of collaboration was over, and the show changes were to be given without the same care, consideration, and thematic explanation of why they were being made. Everyones initial reaction was to push back, but when people who questioned their notes or their changes started getting days removed their schedule or being replaced entirely by a new actor, the Hyperion theater became a place where no one was allowed to speak out. Injustices were happening left and right and no one felt they could do anything for fear of losing their livelihood. And that's when the Frozen: Live at the Hyperion became a living hell. In my first note session with Roger he pulled me into a room with Domonique Paton, my best friend and incredible costar who played princess Anna in the show I was in. She just so happens to also be black. Almost all of Prince Hans’s scenes in the show are with her character and so most of my notes would be primarily based on those interactions with her. Earlier in the day I performed with a different (white) actress but it was the show with Domonique that I had a note session about. Imagine my surprise and dismay when, with how Liesl set up the show experience, we were told this: “WHEN THE TWO OF YOU PERFORM THE SHOW TOGETHER ITS TOO… URBAN.” Urban. What else could that have meant, do you think? He could have said maybe “too contemporary” emphasizing that we were maybe too modern in our speech patterns or movements. We weren’t. He could have said “too lax” or “too loose” meaning that maybe we were being unprofessional and goofy up there because we’re really good friends. We were not. The best me and Ms. Paton could think of was a 8 count moment of improv dance that me and Domonique decided to use as a synchronized moment of unity. It happened to fall on the line “our mental synchronization can have but one explanation” and thought, with the freedom that Christopher (the original choreographer) had given us, was appropriate, especially considering everyone behind us was doing the robot. As in the 80s robot. But he didnt clarify. He just said “WHEN THE TWO OF YOU PERFORM THE SHOW TOGETHER IT’S TOO… URBAN” And when asked what he meant he smiled with a little shrug and said "you can figure that out. You're smart." And thats how I became Black Hans and Domonique became Black Anna. My every moment onstage afterwards became about the optics of being a poc in that show. It was if I was suddenly made aware that I was LUCKY enough to be there and under any normal circumstances, or this new directors circumstances, me getting this part would have never happened. But the message was clear. It was especially clear when me and Domonique Paton shows together durastically decreased and made even more clear when the vast majority of the new hires were not people of color. But no one said anything. And made even MORE clear when, over the next few weeks, both Domonique and I got COPIOUS notes, ten times that of our coworkers that played the same parts. It was almost a game. In fact we did turn it into a game, seeing who would get the least amount of notes from him in a day. Our costars would even joke about it onstage with us, during the ballroom scene, and jokingly whisper "The shows been up 15 minutes. How many do you think you got today?" But no one said anything. And the notes were about all kinds of things. How we held our hand. If our inflections went up or down on a word. Which side of a couch we leaned on… which was fine! When you're an actor, thats the gig... until we started comparing our notes with the actors that played our same parts and none of them, NONE, would get the same notes. Our notes would be outrageously longer, the note sessions sometimes lasting 10/15 minutes. Others would get the “Oh hey, try doing this or that next time, okay bye” walk-by notes. Sometimes I would sneak into the audience and watch as some of the other Han's, some of whom changed lines, changed entire intentions of scenes, some of whom adding in all types of vocalizations and cackles and dance moves and what have you, and would receive ZERO notes. But I was watching them to see what was wrong with me. What was my performance missing? What am I actually doing to feel this singled out. And then I realized that the thing that was wrong with me was that I was a different color than the 5 other white Hans's they cast. And then I started getting notes about my penis. Most of the time these “penis sessions”, as I called them, were given in private rooms without another stage manager present. It was incredibly unpleasant and unprofessional. In fairness, those Prince Hans pants are TIGHT! And yes, Mr. Howell is indeed a party in the front and a party in the back, but so were a lot of those fellas. And thats where I put my foot down. If Disney was going to provide me with a costume it is not my responsibility to fix their problem, especially when other of my (white) costars had been given a dance belt for the same thing. But they never got penis notes. Private session notes about what their penis looked like in that show. Over and over again I was told to fix it, to not make it (my dick) so apparent, and that “if my daughter were younger I wouldn’t want her to come to a show you were performing at" all the more insulting considering his daughter, a cast member in the show, was a friend of mine and the loveliest person. He started demanding that I buy a dance belt. It was “my fault”, “my responsibility” …and thats where I took my stand. And then it really became hell. Penis sessions were now done out in the open. Once, he screamed at me, in the green room in front of all of my costars during lunch, about how incredible unprofessional I was, about how he was tired of seeing my dick, and that if I didnt go buy myself one I didnt deserve to be there anymore. Followed by a huge litany of notes. That doesnt compare to some of what Domonique went through and I invite her to share them if she’s willing. During this time I went to every stage manager in the building and told them about being singling out and about my penis. They all told me to write a complaint report and it would go to some place called "HR". Which I did. Numerously. More months passed. Nothing from "HR". Multiple cast members who witnessed my note sessions encouraged me to go to the HR themselves. I didnt honestly know what an HR was. As soon as it was explained to me by my allies even what an HR was I went to the head of HR at Disneyland herself and waited outside of her door. I asked her if she got any of my HR reports and she told me that she had received no HR reports from the Hyperion. Ever. And then asked me to fill out a HR form. As we went over it, she asked me some questions, and then set up a second meeting. On the second meeting she said that in order for my report to be given credence I would need witnesses to give their testimony. The witnesses, in fact the very people that told me to go to HR in the first place, said no. They didnt want to lose their jobs. In retrospect that might be the thing that hurt the most but, whatever... anyway, I was told "“well… without testimonies we’ll do an investigation and we’ll call you when we’ve completed it.” I never received a phone call. With absolutely zero protection from the stage managers from both the sexual harassment or my obvious racial targeting I (and others) were experiencing, not to mention that HR reports were doing nothing, aka not being forwarded, I thought about quitting. And when a white stage manager made a show mistake and laughed it off to the cast by saying an entirely offensive lynching joke, I quit. I didnt matter to Disney. How I felt and what I was being put through didnt matter. I was a commodity. My departure was unceremonious. Bizarre. 100% un-magical. I hung up my costume one last time and it was given to a new Hans, one who looked very much like me oddly, and stepped out of the theater. The park was playing “every wish your heart desires will come to you” and I remember laughing at how dead that song felt. The director has since moved on but still works as a musical theater director in Southern California. This one time 4 years ago I got to feel something other than my color for the first and only time in my professional career. It lasted from about March 2016 to July 2016 and never again since. I will never forget in those early days looking at all the beautiful princesses I got to woo and thinking “wow. I’m a prince right now.” Im sure that sounds stupid. But it didn't feel stupid. And a Disney prince! Yeah, a shitty prince kinda... I mean, he's a sociopath... BUT still a Prince! Especially special was being able to look in Dominique’s eyes and I could see the same glimmer of “can you believe we get to do this right now” reflected back. We never knew it was in the cards for us. My race always has and will always be part of my career equation and a determining factor of its projection. It will always be a determining factor in how im treated, by creatives, by people, by the those in authority over me, including the government and the police. #wasitmyskin

Copied in its entirety here from Cooper Howell’s public Facebook post: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10163696376095054&set=a.10151302685610054&type=3&theater

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randomshyperson · 4 years ago

Text

Wanda X Reader - 10 Things I hate about you - Part One

Summary: Pietro Maximoff is handsome and popular, but he can't date before his twin sister. The problem is that no one can get close to his sister, Wanda Maximoff. To resolve the situation, a girl interested in Pietro bribes a colleague with a mysterious past to go out with Wanda and, who knows, try to win her over. Or The one directly inspired by 10 Things I Hate About You.

Words: 6.553K /// Read on AO3 too || Part Two

Warnings: PG, fluff, language; goth wanda is back thank god.

Notes: If English is your native language and I used slang that doesn't make sense at all, forgive me. It is really hard to translate many dialects from Portuguese to English. Anyways enjoy your reading!

You rode your skateboard to school today. Your mother was angry with you and took the keys to your motorcycle while yelling that you were difficult to raise, so you grabbed your backpack and skateboard while slamming the door on your way out.

It didn't take long to get to school, though.

You absolutely hate this place. Sometimes you get the impression that you are surrounded by completely mental people.

You walked across the parking lot and got off your skateboard, quickly waving to your friend Carol Danvers, who was smoking leaning against the wall of the school building. You would have to talk to them later, as you had a meeting scheduled with the school principal.

Shrugging off the students as you entered the building, you ignored the stares you received and headed toward Ms. Harkness' office.

You entered without knocking because the door was already open, since she was talking to another student, and when the stranger got up she almost tripped over you on her way out. The principal raised her eyes from her notebook to you, and smiled wryly.

- Well, well, Miss Y/L/N. - she said. - I see these encounters of ours are becoming recurrent.

- I like to be around beautiful women, Miss Harkness. - You stated with a charming smile and crossed arms. The woman laughed lightly as she returned her gaze to her notebook.

- Let me see what happened here. - She mumbled to herself, probably trying to find the notes. - Wow, top nudity exhibit in the cafeteria.

You scratched your head impatiently.

- They were melons, Miss Harkness. - You clarified. - I was making a little joke.

Harkness let out a wry chuckle as she stood up.

- How about you keep them under your blouse, huh? - She scoffed, pointing slightly at the height of your breasts and giving you a wink. You frowned. - Out!

You startled slightly, and Mrs. Harkness giggled, returning to her seat.

You blinked in confusion and turned away, mumbling wryly that she was an excellent professional before you left.

//-//

Carol was waiting for you outside the room, a few feet ahead in the hallway against her own lockers, and you greet her with a kiss on the cheek quickly.

- How did it go today? Did she say anything interesting? - Carol asked with humor in her voice. You leaned your back against the closet, letting out a chuckle.

- No way. - You replied. - She just told me to keep my breasts under my blouse.

Carol laughs lightly, while you check your cell phone. And then she touches your arm lightly. When you raise your eyes to her, she signals the corridor.

- New faces. - She nods, and you notice that it's the same girl who bumped into you in the Harkness room. Now she is accompanied by Bruce Banner, who was clearly showing her around.

- Wow, people keep choosing to come to this place. - You mock, making your friend laugh a little.Carol then checks the clock on her wrist and signals that she needs to get to her history class. You say goodbye to her, but get distracted by your cell phone again, and then the bell rings, and you have to run to get to the literature room on the other side of the building.

//-//

You stumble into the room, and all the students turn to look at you.

- What have I missed? - you ask, trying to normalize your breathing after running through the halls.

- The oppressive patriarchal values that determine our education. - replied a girl you didn't know.

- Nice. - You grumble with a slight laugh, as you hurry to sit in the back of the room.

- You must love detention, don't you, Miss Y/L/N? This is your third delay this week. - commented the teacher as soon as you sat down. Several giggles were heard, but you didn't pay much attention. You threw your bag on the chair and tried to pretend that you were interested in whatever Professor Fury was teaching.

- Professor Fury, any chance you could ask Wanda to take her Midol before coming to class? - scoffed Pepper Potts, one of the most popular and insufferable girls at this school. You rolled your eyes at the teasing, and leaned back as the rest of the class giggled.

- One of these days Mrs. Maximoff is going to punch you in the nose, and I'm not going to do anything to stop her. - Fury replied seriously, wiping the ironic smile off Potts' face. - And Wanda, I want to thank you for your point of view. I know how hard it must have been to overcome all those years of upper middle-class suburban oppression. It must be hard. - He sneered and then started walking toward the girl who was probably Wanda. - But the next time you protest about demanding better food, or whatever it is that white kids protest about, ask them why they don't buy books written by black people!

You let out a little laugh, and Professor Fury looked at you seriously.

- Do you find something funny, Miss?

You shrugged, straightening your posture.

- Sorry to interrupt your speech, Mr. Fury. - You say. - But you're blaming Wanda for something she has no control over. Wouldn't it be better to suggest books written by black women, instead of separating the fights?

Professor Fury blinks in irritation at you, while Wanda looks in your direction, looking surprised.

- Out. Principal office. - says the professor, and you blink in surprise. - Both of you, by the way! You pissed me off!

You grumble, and grab your backpack and leave the room, with Wanda following behind. But you don't speak to her, and when you leave the room, you go to opposite sides of the hallway, since you had no intention of seeing the principal at all.

//-//

You ended up skipping the last two classes of the day while sneaking a smoke with Carol behind the bleachers of the soccer field.

And then you accepted the ride home that she offered you.

- See you tomorrow, troublemaker. - She said good-bye, and you just nodded as you walked toward the front door.

Your mother was at home, sitting at her computer in the living room, and you thought maybe you could sneak past her, but as soon as you closed the door she turned around with her arms crossed.

- The school called. - She said as she stood up, and you let out an impatient sigh as you threw your backpack on the floor by the door. - Are you trying to get suspended?

- Oh yeah, that's my dream. - You scoff, walking toward the kitchen.

- You're going to be grounded.

- I'm already grounded. - You retort softly, and your mother walks over to the counter.

- You think I'm kidding? - She exclaims angrily, and then she's heading down the hall, and you're curious what she's going to do, so you follow her through the house to the garage. You look impassive as she glances around, but then she grabs a hammer and screwdriver from the cabinet and heads for her motorcycle. Your whole body tenses up, but before you can do anything, your mother is breaking your bike.

- You've gone crazy! - You shout as you run toward her, but she turns threateningly toward you with the objects pointed in your direction

- No more fighting! - she shouts. - You're not going anywhere on this damn motorcycle, do you hear me? You are grounded until college.

And then she throws the tools on the floor, and leaves the garage. You take a deep breath, trying not to break everything in front of you, and turn to your motorcycle. Some parts were broken, but you could fix them. The problem would be having the money to do it.

//-//

Tuesday started with biology. And you were really pissed off about the whole thing with your mom and your motorcycle. The professor asked the groups to dissect frogs, and the damn scalpel he handed out wasn't cutting anything. So you grabbed your knife hidden in your boot, and angrily pierced the animal.

- You've lost your mind, put that away! - ordered Carol sitting next to you as she looked around to see if the teacher had seen. You let out an angry sigh and put the item away.

You were bored, and you smoked when you were bored. So you turned the valve on the experimental flame on the bench while putting a cigarette in your mouth, and walked over to light it.

- Girl, what's the matter with you today? - Carol asked impatiently, closing the valve and taking the cigarette out of your mouth.

You mumbled without answering, and she let out a dry laugh before going back to writing. Your gaze wandered around the room and you thought that the new girl and Bruce Banner were looking at you from the table in front of you, but they looked away quickly, so you got distracted again.

//-//

The next class was better because it kept your hands busy. Mechanics with Professor Howard Stark was interesting as he allowed the students to experiment as much as they wanted.

At this moment you were welding a car part while trying not to burn your fingers when you heard a female voice next to you.

- Hi, how are you? - the girl said, and as you turned you realized that it was the new student. You frowned confused, you don't talk to anyone. You thought you should have an aggressive posture, because the girl's voice trembled a little, and then she quickly said good-bye and left the room. You shook your head and went back to concentrating on the lesson.

- What the hell was that all about? - Carol asked from beside you, and you shrugged.

- I told you there are only crazy people in this school. - You remarked with amusement.

- But we go here. - She retorted with a smile.

- Exactly.

Carol laughed and turned her attention back to her own activity.

//-//

In Gym class, the teacher took all the students to the outdoor field, where the rugby team was practicing. He was more concerned about the girls' performance, so he let the rest of the class do as they pleased. Then you and Carol sat down on one of the benches, while you shared a cigarette.

And you had about ten minutes of peace before Pepper Potts and one of her friends came to talk to you.

- Hey, what's up? - asked the blonde, and you looked at her with irony.

- Are you lost? - You replied aggressively, but she didn't seem intimidated.

- See that girl over there? - She said, pointing quickly toward the field. You followed her direction, and it was the same girl from literature class. - That's Wanda Maximoff. I want you to go out with her.

You laughed, shaking your head, and then took a drag on your cigarette.

- As if, preppy. - You denied it as you exchanged a look with Carol, who was grinning in disbelief.

But Pepper was not joking.

- Look, I can't go out with her hot brother until she dates. - She clarifies. - Their father is kind of crazy, he made a rule...

- Touching. Really. I'm moved. - You mock without patience. - But that's not my problem.

- Would it be your problem if you were paid a nice fee?

You let out a dry laugh, looking at her in surprise.

- Are you going to pay me to go out with someone? - you ask, and Potts has a smile on her face as she nods in agreement. You laugh again. - How much?

- Twenty dollars.

You raise your eyebrows, really considering this for a second. And then you look toward the field, and watch as Wanda fouls a girl to the ground, and you swallow dryly. This girl was going to eat you alive.

- Okay, how about 30 bucks? - Potts next suggests when she sees the foul.

You thought about the parts of your motorcycle that you would have to buy. And you licked your lips before you spoke.

- Let's take a good look at this. - You start. - If I take her to the movies, it will be fifteen dollars. And if we buy popcorn, it's fifty dollars. I like to buy candy for the girls, so it would be about seventy-five.

- This is not a negotiation. - Potts retorts angrily. - Take it or leave it, mutt.

You let out a humorless laugh.

- But I think it is, Potts. - You retort, smoking your cigarette again. - Or I'll go over there now and tell Wanda your whole touching little tale.

Potts blinks in irritation, and lets out a wry laugh. But then she relaxes her posture.

- Eighty dollars. - she says. You smile, throwing the cigarette on the floor and putting it out with your foot.

- Deal, Hollywood. - You tell her, and raise your hand in her direction. Potts rolls her eyes, but takes the money from her pocket and hands it to you.

She and her friend then leave, and you settle into your seat.

- You're crazy. - Carol declares afterwards.

- Yes, I know. - You say, brushing your hair out of your eyes with your hands. - But I need new parts. It'll be harmless, it's just a date.

- I hope you're right. - She comments with a laugh, turning her attention back to the field. And then practice ends, and you exchange a look with Carol before getting up and walking toward the players' benches.

You assume your most charming pose as you approach Wanda.

- Hey, pretty girl. - You greet her with a smile as she drinks water from a bottle. She frowns in surprise, and has a wry smile on her face. - What's up?

- I'm sweating like a pig, how are you? - She answers wryly, and you smile awkwardly.

- Wow, that sounds attractive. - You reply in the same tone, watching her put the bottle of water in her backpack on the bench.

- Oh, yes. My goal in life is to look attractive all the time. - She scoffs, frowning. - But I guess it works, since I got your attention. The world makes sense again.

She starts walking toward the exit of the camp, and you are a bit taken aback by the irony, but hurry to keep up with her.

- I'll pick you up on Friday, then. - You tell her, and Wanda lets out a laugh.

- Sure, Friday. - She wryly continues walking.

- Hey, it's the night I take you to places you've never seen.

- To a convenience store on Broadway? - She replies with irony. - Girl, do you even know my name?

You laugh.

- Wanda. - You answer, but she doesn't seem impressed. - And I know more than you know.

- I doubt it. I doubt it very much. - She said ironically and you stopped following her, biting your lip as you watched her walk off the field.

//-//

Your first attempt to get a date with Wanda had not gone well at all, but you are optimistic. And then, on Saturday of that same week, while you and Carol were at the laundromat on the corner of your houses, she nodded slightly outside through the window.

- Isn't that the car of the girl you're being paid to date? - She mocked, and you sighed.

- Don't talk like that. - you said as you put the coins in the washing machine. - It makes me sound like a psychopath.

She laughed without looking at you, kneeling on the waiting couch as she looked out the window.

- I think I should look for a new rejection. - You grumble, handing Carol some coins. - Take care of my clothes while I go talk to her, please.

Carol nods in agreement as you leave the establishment. Crossing the street, you look in the direction of Wanda's car. It is nice, and you are watching the tires as she arrives.

- Are you following me? - She asks with a mixture of aggressiveness and surprise.

- What? Of course not! - You deny it, but with the suspicious look on her face, you try to add. - I was in the laundry room, smarty-pants. I saw your car, and wanted to say hello.

She lets out a sigh, and shrugs her shoulders, heading for the door. You hurry to stand in front of her, a charming smile on your lips.

- I notice that you don't talk much. - You remark, and Wanda frowns, crossing her arms.

- It depends on the subject. - She says. - Talking about the tires on my car doesn't cause me a verbal frenzy.

- You're not afraid of me, are you? - you ask, and she looks at you incredulously.

- Why would I be afraid of you?

- Most people are. - You retort, and Wanda rolls her eyes with irony.

- Well, I don't.

You smile and move a little closer.

- Not afraid, but I bet you've imagined me naked, haven't you? - You tease and give a little wink. Wanda keeps her face almost angry.

- Wow, is it that obvious? - She retorts. - I want you so bad, baby.

She mocks last before bending down slightly and opening the car door, pushing you with the metal.

You let out an impatient sigh as you step back, and she gets into the car and prepares to leave. You stand with your arms folded trying to think how exactly you are going to make this work.

And then Pepper Potts parks her car right behind Wanda's, preventing her from leaving, while the blonde steps out of the vehicle with a smiling, arrogant posture.

- My God, is it idiots' day today? - Wanda complains from inside the car. When Pepper passes by her window, she shouts: - Do you mind girl?

- Not even a little, bitch. - Potts retorts without looking at her as she walks away.

But then Wanda is backing the car up, and the next moment Pepper's red Cadillac has a big bump mark on the side. You laugh in surprise, not believing that she had actually hit the car.

- My God, you are completely crazy! - Potts shouts as she observes the impact.

- Oops. - You hear Wanda scoff.

You laughed again, before going back to the laundry room.

//-//

It was Monday again, and you were trying to have a quiet day. But while you were putting your books away in your locker, Potts approached you.

- When I pay for something, I expect results. - She says, and you close the closet to brace yourself against it.

- I'm trying.

- Watching that lunatic destroy my car doesn't count as a date. - She retorts with mild irritation. - If you don't go out with her, I won't get Pietro. Then get something soon, okay?

That girl's audacity pissed you off.

- I just raised the price. - You tell her, and she looks at you in disbelief.

- Excuse me?

- One hundred and fifty dollars a date. - You say. - In advance.

- Forget it. - She said angrily, turning away.

- Then forget about her brother.

Potts lets out a grumble and then turns to you again, hurrying to get the money.

- Does this kid have a gold dick by any chance? - You scoff, and Potts gives you the middle finger, making you laugh.

- You better get the date, sister. - She says, and you just smile before heading off in the direction of the mechanics' classroom.

//-//

You were trying to find the correct melting point for one of the tools when you were approached by the same girl as the last time you had mechanics.

- I know what you are trying to do with Wanda Maximoff. - She announces, and you let out a wry chuckle as you continue your attention to the tools in front of you.

- Really? And what are you going to do about it?

- Help you.

You blink in surprise as you raise a large metal bar at your eye level to identify its features.

- Why? - you ask, and it is not the girl who speaks next.

- The situation is that my friend Monica, is in love with Pietro Maximoff. - A male voice speaks, and then you look quickly to identify Bruce Banner.

- God, this kid must really have a gold cock. - You mumble with irony as you place the iron bar on the table, and take off your protective gloves.

- Believe me when I tell you that Monica's love is pure, she wants to date him. - Banner explains as you walk to another table in the room, looking for your notes. - Unlike Pepper Potts, who only wants to use him as a trophy.

- Look, I'm only in this for the money. I don't give a shit who Potts is fucking. - You respond without patience, and Monica seems to get irritated with you, but Banner calms her down.

You make some notes regarding the lesson and walk over to the table to analyze the pictures of the tools as you organize them. Monica and Banner follow you.

- Listen, Y/N, we are the ones who planned this story so that Monica and Pietro could date. - Banner says. - Potts is just the go-between.

You laugh with surprise.

- And you are going to help me win Wanda over?

- That's right. - They both say in unison. You turn your attention back to the materials in front of you.

- We will investigate what she likes. - Banner says. - You need our help.

Bruce smiled amiably, and you laughed at the posture he assumed.

- Look, we'll start here. - He began by pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. - On Friday, Stephen Strange is having a party. It's the perfect opportunity.

- Perfect for what? - you ask, looking at him.

- For you to invite Wanda. - He clarifies, and you sigh impatiently, already tired of this conversation.

- I'll think about it. - You say finally and walk to the other side of the room, and this time, they don't follow you.

//-//

It was Wednesday, and you and your friends went to a bar to play a bit of pool shortly after school. Your mother had no idea you were here, but she was working, so she wouldn't know.

You got a text message from Bruce, wanting to meet you along with Monica, and you laughed when you sent the location. They really weren't the kind of people who hang around this place.

You were upstairs, drinking some beer when you saw them come in, and nodding slightly to Carol, you went downstairs and walked over to them.

- So, what do you have for me? - you asked, leaning against a wall.

- Before we get started, I have a question. - says Bruce. - Is it true that you are on probation?

You laugh in surprise.

- What?

- Bruce, shut up. - said Monica, tapping her colleague on the shoulder. And then she turned to you. - First thing, Wanda hates smokers.

- Okay, I hate them too.

You mock, but Monica and Bruce look serious, so you sigh, and take out of your pocket your cigarette case, handing it to the girl.

- There is another problem, Pietro told me that Wanda likes pretty girls.

They look at you for a moment and you frown.

- Are you saying that I'm not pretty? - you ask, straightening your posture.

- You are beautiful! Monica, she's so beautiful, what are you saying? - hurried Bruce almost in terror. You wanted to laugh.

Monica nods quickly in agreement, and you lean back against the wall.

- Look, I made a list. - She hastens to say, pulling a piece of paper from her shirt pocket. - Wanda's tastes are: Sokovian food, feminist poetry, punk and alternative music. And there is a list of the CDs she had in her room.

She says, handing the paper to you. You let out a sigh.

- So should I buy some soup, a book, and ear plugs for some really noisy concert?

They both shrug, smiling slightly.

- Have you ever been to the Skrull Club, west side of town? - Banner asks.

You chuckle.

- It's a nice place, but not really my style.

- Well, it will have to be. - says Monica. - Her favorite group is playing there tomorrow night.

You run your fingers through your hair, sighing.

- Come on, Y/N, it's only for one night. - says Banner. - We're sure she'll be there, Mon found the tickets.

- She also has a black lingerie set. - Added Monica and you frown with confusion.

- Why is this relevant? - You asked, and Monica looked away, looking embarrassed. You laughed lightly, but didn't push it. Then you looked at both of them. - Okay, I'll drop by.

Bruce and Monica both let out excited exclamations and then waved goodbye. You laughed and shook your head, wondering what you had gotten yourself into.

//-//

The Skrull Club was generally frequented by the punk crowd in town, many women from extremist feminist movements hung out here. But in general it was a pretty diverse crowd of rockers, punks, goths and allies. And the drink was cheap.

You received a few curious glances as you walked through the dimly lit corridors of the nightclub, but it was more because these clubs were generally frequented by the same people, and you’re a familiar face.

The place was very crowded, and you had to dodge a lot of people until you reached the main dance floor, trying to find Wanda.

You smiled when you finally saw her, in the first row, dancing with a girl who was also from your school. You thought she looked pretty, in her black dress and red jacket, plus a knee-length black stocking and dark boots on her feet. She might have looked intimidating, but she was still very pretty.

You don't quite understand why your heart races at the image of her dancing and smiling, so you think it best to get a drink, and turn toward the bar.

You sit there, trying to decide how you are going to approach her, but then Wanda is coming toward the bar, and you disguise yourself by looking the other way.

- You don't give up, do you? - She says as soon as she sees you. And walks over to where you are sitting. - If you're planning on asking me out, you can just give up!

- Do you mind? I'm trying to hear the music. - You hit back without looking at her.

-You're not surrounded by your typical cloud of smoke. -She comments after a moment, and you take a sip of the drink you ordered before answering.

- Yes, I quit. They say it's bad for your health. - You say it with a slight irony.

- Do you think so? - Wanda looks slightly surprised, and you give her a short smile before standing up.

- These guys aren't the Kree's, but they play well. - You comment on her favorite band before heading off toward the dance floor. Wanda hurries to follow you.

- Do you know who the Kree's are? - she asks in surprise.

- Why, you don't know? - You reply with irony.

She doesn't answer, looking mildly impressed. You smile briefly.

- I was watching you dance. - You comment as the band is finishing the song. - I don't think I've ever seen you so sexy.

And then the song ends exactly with your line, and the whole club hears you. Several people giggle, and you feel your cheeks heat up, but Wanda laughs too, and that relaxes you.

- Come to Stephen Strange's party with me. - You ask her. And she tilts her head slightly to the side, still smiling.

- You never give up, do you?

And then another song starts, and Wanda is coming back to the front of the stage.

- Is that a yes? - you shout at her.

- No!

- Was that a no?

It takes a second, but she shouts back.

- No!

You grin.

- See you at 9:30! - You shout to her before she disappears into the crowd.

You're smiling all the way home.

//-//

You were early. But you were so anxious about it that you left the house as quickly as possible.

And then you arrived at Wanda's door, but as soon as you went to knock, she opened it.

- What are you doing here? - she asked in surprise.

- 9:30. - You answer. - Yeah, well, I'm early.

- Whatever, I'm driving. - She says and then you look into the house and see Pietro Maximoff with a kangaroo baby carrier outfit occupied with a doll and frown.

- May I ask what that is? - You remark, and Wanda just rolls her eyes at the scene, then turns to you.

- My father is a little neurotic about this whole pregnancy thing. - She answers and walks outside. You both wait for Pietro.

- At least he doesn't use a real baby. - You joke and Wanda smiles. But then Pietro leaves the house, looking slightly annoyed, and you hurry to Wanda's car.

It doesn't take long to get to the party.

The place was packed. Probably the whole school was here. And as soon as Wanda found a parking place, Pietro got out and disappeared into the crowd.

You decided to accompany Wanda as she entered the house. You went toward the second floor, and you lost sight of Wanda when a girl jumped on you, completely drunk and trying to kiss you.

- Wow, slow down there. - You said, helping her sit up. You found several empty and sealed bottles of water in one of the liquor containers around the house and handed one to her. - I want you to drink it all, okay?

The girl whimpered in confusion, but you waited. She seemed better, but you handed her another bottle just to be sure.

- Hey Peggy, I found you! - said a skinny boy you didn't know, walking up to you. He frowned, slightly startled, when he noticed you.

- Are you a friend of hers? - You asked him with distrust, and he nodded, looking mildly frightened.

- Yes, he is. This is Steve. - mumbled the girl sitting up, looking like she had a headache. - Thanks for the water, by the way.

- No problem. - You say. - Are you feeling well enough to be alone?

She nods slightly as she speaks:

- Yes, yes. Steve will take care of me now. Thanks again.

And then you patted Steve on the arm, and left the two of them, walking back through the crowd.

It took you many minutes to find Wanda again, because the party is so crowded. And when you reached her, she was pouring a glass of drink into her mouth.

- Hey, I've been looking all over for you. - You announce mildly annoyed. - What the hell are you doing?

- Getting drunk! - she answers ironically. - Isn't that what people are supposed to do at a party?

- I don't know, you do whatever you want to do. - You retort, and Wanda raises her eyebrows.

- Very funny. You're the only one who says that. - She says as she turns away. - See you later.

Wanda leaves walking through the party, and you see her grab another drink glass on the way.

You think you heard someone yell fight while you were walking through the party, and then the crowd moved, but you didn't go toward the people.

You are very angry, and impatient, wanting to be spending this evening with Wanda, but she doesn't seem interested.

And then you were walking back the way you came, and you ran into the same couple as before, only now they were kissing. You laughed lightly, the boy looked shy. You decided to stay out of their way, and went downstairs, only to run into Wanda again.

- Hey, why don't you let me have this one. - You spoke up as you noticed what must have been one of the many glasses of booze she had taken, and you raised your arm to pick it up, but Wanda was quicker, moving the glass away.

- No! This one is mine! - she grumbled, clearly drunk, trying to push you away. But you managed to take her glass, and she let out an annoyed sigh.

As you put the glass on a small table, she walked away again, and before you could follow, Pepper was at your side.

- Girl, how did you manage to do that? - she asked, looking excited. You frowned.

- What are you talking about?

- You made a freak act like a human being. - She commented with irony, but you weren't even paying attention anymore. Your gaze raced across the room after Wanda, and then someone turned on the radio in the next room and the crowd screamed attracting your attention.

You exclaimed in surprise when you noticed Wanda dancing on a table, without the jacket she was wearing earlier. Pepper ran in the same direction, joining in the shouts of celebration from the crowd around the table.

Walking towards the table you were a mixture of irritation, disbelief and embarrassment. Wanda was completely drunk, dancing sensually to the music, while people whistled and watched intently. She had her eyes closed, not even seeming to notice her surroundings.

And then she made a badly calculated move, and hit her head on the chandelier on the table. You were quick enough to catch her when she fell.

- Okay, that was enough. - You grumbled, helping her to her feet. - Are you okay?

- I'm fine! - she replied, but she could barely walk. You kept her from falling while grabbing the jacket she had thrown to the ground.

- Yeah, you're not fine. - You said. - Let's get out of here.

- I just need to lie down. - She mumbled, letting you hold her around the waist as you led her through the crowd.

- If you lie down, you'll sleep. - You say. - You can't sleep after hitting your head.

Wanda giggled.

- So many words. - She complained, and you thought it best to sit her down somewhere.

You reached the outside, as crowded as the house, but you managed to find a space in the garden for her to sit, and helped her to the bench. Wanda put her hand on her head where she had hit it.

- Hey, I need to talk to you. - Called Monica, walking up to you suddenly.

- I'm kinda busy. - You retorted, looking at Wanda.

- Five minutes, it's important.

You sighed, and took one last look at Wanda before walking away with Monica.

- Look, the deal is off, okay? - she said, and you blinked in confusion. - Pietro never wanted to be with me. He just wanted to have sex with Pepper.

You really didn't have the energy for that right now.

- Monica, where did all this come from now, huh? Weren't you two sneaking around together?

- I thought I was having a good time, but I saw them both at the party. - She explained, and you sighed impatiently.

- Hey, you like this boy don't you? - you asked, and she looked away, nodding. - And he's worth all this stuff you're doing?

- I thought so but...

- Yes or no? - She swallowed hard, and you assumed a serious posture. - Listen, Pepper Potts is not half as good as you, and you never let anyone make you think that you don't deserve something. Okay?

Monica nodded, looking surprised. You turned your face toward Wanda quickly.

- Look, I have to go. - You said as you turned and helped Wanda to her feet.

On the way out you made sure to grab one of the bottles of water you found in the barrels.

You let her rest her arm on your shoulder to keep from falling, while your arm went around her waist. You dragged her across the street, and you ended up climbing a small hill in the mansion area that ended at a playground.

- Why are you doing this? - she grumbled.

- I said, you might have a concussion. - You retorted. Wanda broke free of you and started trying to walk ahead. You kept your attention to catch her in case she fell.

- You don't even care if I don't wake up.

You let out a chuckle, stopping her from falling next.

- That's not true.

- Why not?

- Because then I'd have to date girls who like me. - You respond with humor.

- If you could find one. - She retorts, and you have a smile on your lips when you answer.

- Oh, see. Who needs affection when I get hate?

- I just need to sit for a while. - She says, closing her eyes for a moment, and you help her sit down on one of the swings behind you. She falls off balance a second after you put her there, but you are quick to help her stay seated.

- Jesus. - You sigh as you stop her from falling, and then sit down on the swing beside her while Wanda laughs lightly. - So, why do you let yourself be affected?

- By whom? - she asks.

- Potts.

Wanda looks away, shaking her head.

- I hate her.

You let out a tired sigh.

- Well, you have chosen the perfect revenge. Intravenous tequila. - You joke, making her laugh.

- It's what they say.... - She begins to speak while you are looking away, and with the momentary silence you stare back, startled to find her asleep. You get up hastily, touching her face.

- Hey, Wanda! Wake up! Come on, open your eyes! - You called out, patting her face lightly.

Wanda blinked, opening her eyes, and you let out a sigh of relief. And then you took your hands away from her face and stood up, while she continued to look at you.

- I like your eyes. - She says with a shy smile. And you smile too, but then she throws up on your shoes the next second and the moment is broken. You laugh incredulously, but pat her on the back.

- Time to go home, punk. - You comment softly.

It takes a moment for Wanda to calm down, and you hand her the bottle of water you got. Then you walk to her car, and she hands you the keys.

Just as you are about to arrive at her house many minutes after, she speaks again:

- I should do that. - She comments still sounding drunk.

- Do what?

- That. - She says, pointing to the radio. A rock song was playing.

- Start a band?

- No, install radios in cars. - She retorted with irony, and you laughed lightly. - Starting a band of course. My dad would love it.

You then stop the car in front of her house.

- You don't seem to be the type to ask your father's permission to do things. - You comment as you take out the keys.

Wanda blinks in surprise.

- So now you know me?

- I'm trying.

- People only know that I scare them.

- Yeah, I know the feeling. - You comment with a wry smile. Wanda looks at you with an intensity that makes your stomach turn. - So, your father looks tough.

- No, he just wants me to be someone I'm not. - She says, shaking her head slightly.

- Who?

- Pietro. - She answers with a frown. You let out an understanding sigh.

- No offense, I know everyone likes your brother and all, but he's a pretty shallow guy. - You say and Wanda looks at you in surprise, but then she has a little smile on her face.

- You know... you're not as obnoxious as I thought. - She says, making you laugh slightly. And then she looks at you like that again, and brings your faces together, closing her eyes. You swallow dryly, ignoring your nervousness, and look at the steering wheel.

- I think we should do this another time. - You say, and Wanda looks at you in disbelief, as you twiddle your fingers nervously. She frowns and looks ahead, then opens the car door and gets out.

You sit there for several minutes, hoping that Wanda won't be even more irritated with you than she usually is.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wandaxyou #wandaxreader #marvel imagines #high school au

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makeste · 4 years ago

Text

BnHA Chapter 308: VIBE: CHECKED

Previously on BnHA: Lots and lots of Shindou idk what else to tell you.

Today on BnHA: Tired Nomad Deku rescues Shindou from Muscular, and us from Shindou. Muscular is all “OH BOY I SURE CAN’T WAIT TO FIGHT DEKU AGAIN AFTER HE TOTALLY KICKED MY ASS THE LAST TIME!! I’M SURE THIS TIME WILL GO DIFFERENTLY SEEING AS HE’S HAD ALMOST AN ENTIRE YEAR’S WORTH OF ADDITIONAL TRAINING, AND ALSO HAS SIX FOURQUIRKS NOW, IN ADDITION TO THE CONFIDENCE THAT COMES WITH HAVING EIGHT OTHER PEOPLE’S SOULS CHILLING OUT INSIDE HIM OFFERING MORAL SUPPORT AND ENCOURAGEMENT.” Deku is all, “[kicks Muscular’s ass effortlessly].” Muscular is all, “[gets his ass totally kicked].” I for one am very satisfied with this, and with respect to all, I would like to hereby declare this post a discourse-free zone. I’m just happy to see my son out here making good use of his FOURQUIRKS, and more importantly beating Muscular in less than seventeen pages so we can all go on with our lives lol.

damn Deku since when were you allowed to look this cool

from this perspective and with the smoke, cape, backpack, and mask more or less obscuring his actual profile, he looks less like a sixteen-year-old boy and more like a grownass man

OH SNAP

we got a glimpse of this in the cleaned-up scan of 307, but seeing both of his eyes looking so distinctively All Might-esque here is... whoa. I mean we know that his face still looks pretty normal underneath the mask and he doesn’t actually have the black sclera, but still, this is an awesome look. mini-Might

lol Muscular

you and me both. I mean no offense, but yeah

so Deku is just standing there silently

typical Deku. tight-lipped and expressionless. mum’s the word. quiet as a mouse. silent as a grave

okay no but seriously this is so weird and creepy though you guys. Deku please say something or else I’m just gonna mindlessly say whatever stupid things come into my head in an effort to make things less awkward

so Muscular is all “I should probably make a cool speech about revenge but Horikoshi couldn’t think of anything good so I’m just going to stand here clenching my fist real slowly”

“I’m not here to go on a monologue” he says, as he monologues about not monologuing

okay you guys I confess I have only read through/watched the Deku VS Muscular fight once because the arm-breaking is just way too uncomfortable for me to revisit. and so as a result, I have completely forgotten Whatever The Deal Is with Muscular’s eye lmao so let me go look it up real quick

okay so it’s a prosthetic, obviously, and he changes it out according to his mood. that part does sound familiar. I just can’t remember which eye is supposed to indicate which mood. don’t tell me I actually have to go back and reread this shit

lol I’m skimming through chapter 75 now and remembering/realizing that I hardly paid any attention to this the first time around because as soon as I found out the villains were after Kacchan my brain was like “TIME TO FOCUS ON THIS AND ONLY THIS NOW AND FOREVER” and yeah. ah memories

anyway so he started out with the flower-looking eye, and then later on he was all

which begs the question, how on earth could I have ever forgotten the most ridiculous panel I’ve ever read lmao

anyway, but so after all of that, I'm only just now realizing that this isn't one of his previous eye prosthetics in the current chapter; this is an ACTUAL FUCKING ROCK that he's just randomly shoved into his eye socket fkdsjlk

so basically (1) I did all of that painstaking research for nothing, five whole minutes of my life wasted THANKS A LOT, and (2) what, and I have never meant this more emphatically, THE FUCK

anyway so now he's leaping at the building that Deku is standing on top of. but he’s not aiming anywhere near Deku though, wtf

(ETA: HAHA YOU BROKE ALL YOUR MUSCLES YOU LOSER.)

...huh

lmao okay then. I hope those annoying citizens in the building next door are watching this go down and rethinking their life choices

dlkdkljk

just keep standing there pressed right up against the window, why don’t you. “WHAT’S GOING ON THIS SUPER CLOSE COLLAPSING BUILDING IS BLOCKING OUR VIEW.” well, folks, we’ve long since known there’s a critical shortage of hero and villain brain cells, but what we’re learning now is that civilian brain cells are also in short supply

OH THANK GOD DEKU IS FINALLY TALKING THAT WAS ACTUALLY UNSETTLING AS FUCK

SO HE’S STILL OUR GOOD, POLITE, WORRIED, CONSIDERATE DEKU UNDERNEATH THAT COOL AND MYSTERIOUS VENEER. for real, thank fuck, because I swear to god if he suddenly started acting like the Dekus in all of the vigilante AUs my interest in this series would have dropped something like 50% lol. just because he dropped out of school and ran away from home and is currently dressed like the physical manifestation of a Linkin Park playlist doesn’t mean he’s not still the WORLD’S BIGGEST DORK okay

I MEAN, THIS RIGHT HERE. THIS IS WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT. HE’S APOLOGIZING FOR THE DELAY

PLEASE FIND THE ATTACHED SHINDOU YOU REQUESTED. BEST REGARDS!!!

OH MY GOD WHY IS HE SUCH A BADASS

something about making bold, confident statements while obscured in smoke?? idk but damn it fucking works

ffjkkl

more importantly, should you tell him you actually need your copy of Shindou in excel format and not pdf?? on the one hand you don’t want to sound ungrateful, but on the other hand what are you even supposed to do with this

this chapter so far consists of like 50% smoke, but on the other hand Deku VS Kacchan 2 had a lot of cinematic smoke too so who am I to complain

OMG IS IT HIS ARMS

IDK DID YOU?! TELL ME YOUR SECRETS. PLEASE, AT SOME POINT THIS FIGHT HAS GOT TO ACTUALLY ADVANCE THE PLOT

OHHHHHHH

IT’S EN’S QUIRK!! OH MY GOD OKAY THAT’S ACTUALLY AWESOME

I CAN HEAR THE SOUND OF DISCOURSE RUMBLING IN THE BACKGROUND BUT I DON’T CARE LOL. WON’T CATCH ME EVER SAYING NO TO ANOTHER SIXQUIRK. GO AHEAD, BRING THEM ON, I WANT TO SEE THEM ALL but take it easy though Deku. don’t want to give yourself lung cancer or anything

also it’s good to see that in a very real sense he’s not fighting alone. the Vestiges really did mean it when they said they could appear more easily now. this is on a whole other level

so is this whole next page still En talking, or someone else? because whoever it is sure is chatty

okay, several things

pretty sure it is En, because he keeps saying “I suppose.” for someone who never said two words until one page ago, this guy sure never shuts up. we can’t all follow Muscular’s lead I suppose. oh my god now I’m doing it too

really like the suggestion of Deku using the SIXQUIRKS like tools in an arsenal, because that’s what he’s good at! it’s almost like he’s been training for this his entire life. “you value quirks too much” LOOK HE JUST THINKS THEY’RE COOL OKAY IS THAT A CRIME

where the fuck did all this rope come from

not gonna ask what the fuck that thing is sticking out from the back of his utility belt. Horikoshi will surely explain this

is that a fucking jetpack. I’m sorry Deku were six fucking quirks not enough for you. you can fucking float??? but JUST TO BE SAFE, LET’S STRAP A PAIR OF ROCKETS TO OUR SHOULDERS IDK

-- or wait, is this all supposed to be like a visual representation of En’s metaphor?? OH MY GOD AM I JUST STUPID LOL, DON’T ANSWER THAT. NEVER MIND. NEW LIST!!

rope = blackwhip

jetpack = float

radio = danger sense

and so I’m guessing that this ridiculously phallic thing is supposed to be a flare or something?? and that = the new quirk, smokescreen. well that was a fucking ride lmao we now return you to our regularly scheduled chapter

so now Deku is floating to his heart’s content and thinking that he’ll just sneak up on Muscular and vibe check his ass or whatever

WOOOOOOOO DANGER SENSE YESSSS I LOVE THIS FOR HIM

okay guys, I'm gonna press pause here for a sec to make a serious note, because I am loving the shit out of this, but tbh I'm having trouble enjoying it as much as I want to because I keep getting anxious thinking about the discourse. I know that a lot of the fandom has very strong opinions on Deku's character development one way or the other, and I want to respect that. but I also really have no spoons to debate this topic at all beyond what I’ve already weighed in on. so if it’s all the same to everyone, I plan on staying out of this discussion, at least this week

anyway! that said, YEAH BOI GET HIS ASS

VIBE: CHECKED. CURB: STOMPED. HOTEL: TRIVAGO

-- OF COURSE HE’S STILL FUCKING FINE LOL HE CRASHES INTO BUILDINGS FOR FUN IDK WHAT I WAS EXPECTING

dammit Muscular. how many fucking quirks does it take to beat you?! the annoying thing is that even with all of his cool new powers, Deku is still something of a mismatch against him. anyway r.i.p. to all these poor buildings

OOOOOHHHHH

you guys have no idea how intrigued I am at the prospect of watching Deku try to play both good cop and bad cop here lmao

anyway so Muscular says he doesn’t know, go figure

“I’m not here to make small talk or anything” he says as he small talks about not small talking

OH MY GOD DEKU

are you really gonna talk no jutsu all of these villains from now on?? that last battle really did have a profound impact on you, huh! interesting

you guys he’s really doing it omg

Deku this guy tried to murder a five-year-old literally just for fun. I mean more power to you, but holy shit you’re really gonna try to defeat Muscular with anger management therapy huh

I MEAN

WHO COULD HAVE SEEN THAT RESPONSE COMING dlkjslkjk

FUCK’S SAKE DEKU, I KNOW YOU MEAN WELL BUT THEY CAN’T ALL HAVE TRAGIC PASTS KIDDO

but. I have to admit, I do still like that he tried. probably knew just as well as we did what the end result was going to be, but still. he made the effort in good faith and I respect that

uh oh

why do I get the feeling Muscular just got a whole lot deader

oh my god oh my god he’s doing the “powering up” stance ffff don’t fucking tell me you can still use your fucking arms here, Deku

BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY WHAT’S THIS??

okay so basically he’s saying that whatever it was he sensed in Tomura, he doesn’t sense from Muscular. which, yeah, that sounds exactly right. good judge of character here lol

AHHHHAHAHA YESS

WHOOPS, GET FUCKED I GUESS

WOOOOHOOOOOOOO

lmao so apparently this is the belated result of Shindou’s attack from chapter 307?? I’ll be damned. good for you Shindou!! I always liked you buddy. please just take my word on that and don’t fact check that statement

okay lol the one tiny bit of discourse I will allow is that it’s bullshit that he just did that with his right arm. like, I’ll fully acknowledge that. that makes no fucking sense, and I demand an explanation from the Great Plot Hole Filler himself. he’s never let us down before when it comes to continuity so I’m trusting him not to suddenly start now

that said, we love to see a rematch against a boring guy settled quickly and decisively within the span of a single chapter. THANK YOU

I like that Deku implies that his power is being a smart nerd who battles villains using the power of ANALYTICS. he basically didn’t do anything except restrain Muscular and wait for Shindou’s attack to take effect while halfheartedly checking to see if he regretted any of that murder and stuff

(ETA: and almost forgot to mention, he made excellent use of all four of his active SIXQUIRKS. it’s like the chapter title said; this is basically him fighting all-out, and it’s a sight to see.)

also, as cool as the mask was, this just feels right. like, we had our fun, now let us see his face, yes good

anyway, I think this was a good start towards establishing What’s Up With Deku Right Now! so if it’s all the same to Horikoshi, I would next like to take some time to explore Why’s Up With Deku. that, and What’s Up With Everyone Else, Especially Kacchan. por favor

#bnha 308 #midoriya izuku #muscular (bnha)#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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kpopfanfictrash · 4 years ago

Text

Raise the Barre (Ch. 8)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: underage drinking, angst, hoseok’s bare abs

Word Count: 10,705

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.

“Okay, even you have to admit this is too soon.” Finn stared, appalled at the chalkboard. “It’s not even Halloween!”

Laughing a little, you looped your arm around his to drag him towards the back. Plopping down in a chair, you placed your order number in the center of the table. Seating himself across the table from you, Finn began to undo his coat.

“Come on.” He grinned, brown hair flopping when he leaned forward. “Admit it – this is too early for holiday drinks.”

“Okay, maybe it’s a little early,” you acquiesced. “But Halloween is tomorrow! They probably just put up the holiday drinks so they don’t have to do it on Sunday.”

“Laziness!” he cried, jabbing a finger in the air.

Shaking your head, you smiled when Namjoon, the barista, placed a pumpkin soy latte before you.

“Thanks!” you said, pulling this towards you.

“No problem,” he said, flashing his dimples before he turned to leave.

Taking a long, slow sip of your drink, you groaned. “Oh my god. This is it. This is heaven.”

Finn laughed. “Is that seriously your first pumpkin drink of the season?” Sadly, he shook his head. “I remember our senior year, you dragged me out of bed at 7:00 AM on a Saturday just to get the first pumpkin drink of the year.”

“I know,” you sighed. “But I’ve needed the extra caffeine jolt each morning. Sweet drinks just don’t cut it anymore.”

“Ah, the first step in addiction.” Finn nodded sagely.

Smiling, you settled back in your seat as he took the first sip of his black coffee. It had been two weeks since your fight at the club and since then, Finn had been on his best behavior. For about a week, things between you had been awkward but slowly, your relationship was returning to normal.

Seated in the corner of your favorite coffee shop, you drank from your cup and glanced around the room. This was what you’d pictured when you imagined you and Finn living in the city together. Coffee dates, going on new adventures and continuing your relationship where it had left off.

Of course, this morning was only possible because Miss Britt’s ballet class had been cancelled. A contemporary master class had been scheduled for the afternoon, but your day before then was free – something you’d immediately taken advantage of by calling Finn. It was becoming easier to fit each other into your schedules, more like second nature, but things were still tense whenever things didn’t line up.

None of this was eased by the burgeoning whatever-it-was you’d shoved to the back of your mind regarding Jimin. Since the day of Mr. Vlad’s ballet class, you’d managed to keep your emotions in check, but were constantly on the lookout for dangerous situations. You and Jimin were professionals, obviously, but you were also only human. It was reasonable to have subconscious wants and desires, but these weren’t important unless you chose to act upon them.

You didn’t tell Finn about it because honestly, there was nothing to tell. Okay, so you’d felt an errant spark one day during a lift. Big deal. Finn had been your boyfriend for over two years – it would take more than that to threaten your relationship. A relationship which, frankly, had been getting stronger as of late. Telling him something as inconsequential as a spark you had with Jimin would only take you further down the wrong path.

“Are you sure you’re okay with us doing separate things tomorrow?” Finn interrupted your thoughts. His brow furrowed. “It is Halloween, after all.”

“Ah, yes.” You nodded. “Halloween, the internationally known couple’s holiday.”

He laughed. “Okay, point made – but still.”

“It’s fine,” you assured him. This was something you’d already been over. “It just makes sense like this! Your friends are going to that off-campus party and I promised Noelle I’d go to this club thing with her.”

“Right, of course.” Finn grinned. “I’m bummed I’ll miss seeing you as the Powerpuff girls, though. Who’s going to be the third one, again?”

“Well, I’m Blossom – obviously.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “Miss Responsibility.”

A twinge of annoyance went through you, but you pushed it aside. You didn’t think you were always the responsible one but admittedly, you’d been more on edge than usual lately.

“Anyways,” you continued with a roll of your eyes. “I’m Blossom, Noelle is Buttercup and Irene is going as Bubbles. It’ll be fun! Aside from the whole club part, of course.”

“It does sound fun,” Finn admitted, a tad mournful. “Meanwhile, I’ve been roped into the classic college bro costume of Ghostbusters.”

“Oh, come on! That is classic! You’ll be super cute in your… suit? Cargo pants? What do Ghostbusters wear again?”

“Knowing Ben, something tragic from Party City. Pray for me.”

“I’ll light candles.”

Finn grinned, sipping his coffee again and your conversation slipped naturally to other topics.

Halloween fell on a Saturday this year, which meant every college campus was gearing up for some epic parties. Noelle had managed to snag tickets to a club fancy enough to require an RSVP. Apparently, said brother she missed was a DJ and could get tickets to a lot of things if Noelle bothered to ask.

A bunch of people from Russet were going, which made you excited. There hadn’t been many parties with your classmates so far this semester. Despite technically being in college, your classmates were all under the same intense pressure, only made worse by constant early morning ballet.

This week though, even your teachers seemed to have decided you needed a break. Aside from the master class you had this afternoon, there were zero Russet classes until Monday morning. The break in schedule meant you could actually go out – and drink – if you so decided. You and Noelle were planning on attending a ballet class tomorrow, but your entire day after would be free.

You’d originally planned on seeing Finn during the day, but then he’d been invited to a Halloween darty (day party) starting at noon. Despite not seeing Finn on Halloween, you weren’t feeling stressed. It was only one holiday and not even a couple’s one, as you’d said.

After coffee, you kissed Finn goodbye and headed to class at Danley Hall. The atmosphere was different as soon as you entered the classroom – all of the students were buzzing, excited by the prospect of the weekend ahead. The excitement only grew when coupled with the fact that today’s class was contemporary.

For nearly two months, your training had been mostly ballet. This was the foundation of all western dance, and where most dance students were expected to start. Finally though, you were being given a chance to show off. Today’s teacher, Luna Jordan, was a well-known contemporary choreographer across the globe.

You’d done a master class with her once back in high school and honestly couldn’t wait to learn from her again. She wasn’t alone, though, you noticed as you walked in – an unfamiliar, dark-haired guy stood beside her, stretching lithely before the room’s mirror.

“Holy shit,” Noelle whispered as she came to a stop. “That’s Jeon Jungkook.”

Startled, you looked twice and saw she was right. You hadn’t recognized him without his bevy of followers, but Jeon Jungkook was known in the dance world. A child prodigy, he’d been on America’s Got Talent at age eleven and finished in second place. Following this, his family had moved to LA and he’d been in high demand for movies, music videos and performances ever since.

You remembered hearing he worked with Luna Jordan, but the thought hadn’t crossed your mind before now that he might be here.

Noelle cocked her head to one side. “He’s hot.”

“Noelle,” you hissed, trying to shush her.

“What!” A devious grin spread across her face. “Am I supposed to be blind, as well as mute?”

“Well, no, but –”

“Alright, everyone!” Miss Luna clapped her hands together. “I know everyone is excited for the weekend, but we unfortunately have an hour and a half together before then. Everyone spread out for warm-ups!”

A few people laughed, spreading out on the floor as class began. Noelle wriggled her eyebrows, pulling you towards the front in order to get the best spot. Hiding a smile, you ducked your head and settled beside her into a stretch.

Noelle was nearly as excited as you were for the opportunity to dance contemporary. Most of your classmates knew this to be your forte – you caught glances from the corner of your eye while you warmed up, trying not to let their attention get to your head.

Jimin was also near the front, although on the opposite side. You suspected your class was equally excited to see him perform – as talented as Jimin was at ballet, there was a reason you hadn’t thought he’d be at Russet this fall. Jimin’s strength in jazz and contemporary was unparalleled. You would’ve thought he’d gone to LA to become a dancer like Jungkook.

Speaking of whom – Jungkook really was attractive; that much couldn’t be denied. He had dark, wavy hair pulled into a bun and cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. When he glanced up from his stretch, his gaze somehow found yours and he smiled.

Eyes widening, you stared until you caught sight of Jimin behind him. Glancing between the two of you, Jimin’s expression soured before he looked away. Lips parting, you felt the sudden urge to say something, but there was too much distance between you.

“You ready?” Miss Luna called, an upbeat pop song blasting from the stereo. “Let’s go!”

She launched into isolations, leaving the rest of the class to follow. Warm-ups passed quickly and before you knew it, you were gathered at center to learn the combination. Miss Luna’s style was right up your alley. The steps came easily and, once you’d learned the whole chorus, she left you alone to practice.

You were helping Ari with a difficult move when you caught sight of Sabrina as you turned. She’d positioned herself near the back, which had to be a first. Usually, Sabrina was front and center to allow for maximum receipt of teacher praise.

The decision to stand near the back could’ve been strategy – sometimes, dancers did that at conventions. Conventions were giant weekends of competition with teachers from all over the globe who taught master classes to hundreds of dancers in hotel ballrooms and convention centers. Space at the front tended to be limited, so some stayed at the back, where there was more room to dance and be seen. You had a greater likelihood to capture the teacher’s attention when you had the room to do incredible leaps.

Sabrina’s decision didn’t seem strategic, though. While you watched, Sabrina stumbled transitioning from one move to the next. A brief twinge of pity went through you.

It was easy enough to spot ballerinas dancing anything but ballet. Although ballet was the root of modern westernized dance, it could be hard to translate into other styles. Ballet was more rigid than contemporary, jazz or hip-hop. In ballet, each position was defined, individual style was limited, and dancers were expected to all look the same. Standing out in the corps de ballet was equally frowned upon as missing an entrance.

Not that ballet wasn’t important to all dance styles, mind you. Even hip-hop dancers took ballet to improve their balance, core strength and general understanding of the body. There was an element of individuality in other dance styles, though, which lacked in ballet. Contemporary and hip-hop dancers were expected to have relentless technique all while creating their own, unique flair.

Just looking at Sabrina you could clearly see the holes. She was trying so hard to emulate the moves of Miss Luna, she was kind of missing the point. When Miss Luna did a certain flick of the wrist, it wasn’t a defined part of the choreography, but rather an individual choice.

Without thinking, you took a step forward – only to stop. Sabrina wouldn’t want your help; she’d already made that abundantly clear. Besides, you knew her friend Katie to be a contemporary dancer. She could help Sabrina and yet, when you looked, you saw Katie practicing near the front with Jungkook.

Jungkook obviously knew the steps, since this was probably the tenth time he’d learned the combination. Dance teachers often did that – selected a dancer to attend classes with them, traveling to different cities to demonstrate the combination and help when they weren’t free.

Before you could decide whether to help Sabrina, Miss Luna clapped her hands again.

“Let’s do groups!” she declared. “I’ll count you off into groups of four, and each group will showcase. Sound good?”

It wasn’t really a question so much as an announcement. The rest of the class nodded, waiting while Miss Luna counted you off. You ended up in the same group as Irene, Paulo and a few others. Jimin and Noelle were in the group two, while Sabrina was in the group after theirs.

Jogging off to the side, you waited while the first group took center. You were part of group four, which meant you’d be amongst the last to dance on the floor. When the music began, you closed your eyes and began to mark the combination. You tried not to focus on what anyone else was doing, but this became difficult once Noelle’s group stepped up.

Noelle had trained in jazz and contemporary, although she’d stopped in high school to focus mainly on ballet. Still, her artistry shone in her movement. She could definitely stand to loosen up a bit but was still one of the best in the bunch. You found yourself smiling when she landed a turn, silently cheering her on from the side.

While you were watching, Jimin cut across your vision.

Dropping to the ground, he rolled and arched as his forehead brushed wood. His quality of movement was breathtaking and for a moment, you felt like you were back in high school.

Suddenly returned to those dimmed auditoriums, you watched Jimin take the stage like an otherworldly being. His body seemed to move before your mind could comprehend. Barely did he finish one move before he was starting another, the steps flowing endlessly together like unhindered water. Although you knew the combination and knew how you would dance it, watching Jimin perform was a different experience entirely.

Ballet required dancers to stay on the beat but in contemporary, they were expected to lag. Extensions were all the more breathtaking when they clung to the last second, seeming as though the dancer might not make it before they caught up. Jimin was an expert in this, knowing exactly when to hang precariously over the edge and when to pull back.

Watching him dance, that pesky, strange something bloomed in your chest again.

Squashing this quickly, you looked away and resumed marking the combo. The end of the song was improvisation though and, unable to stop yourself, you found your attention drifting to Jimin again. He was ridiculously beautiful – you nearly didn’t hear when Miss Luna called for them to stop. As she turned off the music, she applauded the group while they walked from the floor.

Breathing heavily, Noelle came to a stop alongside you and – somewhat guiltily, since you hadn’t been watching – you gave her a high-five.

“That was awesome!” you said with a grin. “You definitely stood out in the group.”

Noelle snort-laughed. “Not with Jimin up there, but that’s okay. This is his specialty – and yours,” she added with a wink. “I’m psyched for group four.”

“Ah,” you groaned, rubbing your neck. “Too much pressure.”

Noelle laughed, shaking her head as group three took the floor. Both of you fell silent to watch, your curious gaze finding Sabrina in the back. Sabrina looked almost nervous; an emotion which seemed out of place on her features. It made her look almost human.

As soon as the music began, you stifled a wince. Sabrina stood out from the group, and not in a good way. She had the combination down but moved with a woodenness you would’ve expected from someone half her age. It was enough for you to glance at Miss Luna, wondering if she had noticed.

“Wow,” Noelle whispered, looking almost gleeful. “Sabrina is terrible.”

“Noelle!” you whisper-laughed.

“What? After everything she’s done? After everything she’s said?” Noelle’s gaze narrowed. “Sabrina deserves this.”

Despite privately agreeing, you couldn’t help but feel bad as Sabrina continued. Not wanting to watch any longer, you turned towards the front and resumed marking the combo. As soon as Miss Luna cut the music and polite clapping ensued, you turned back around.

It was time for group four. A shaky, sick feeling entered your stomach as you walked to center. So many eyes were on you, but it had been so long since you danced contemporary. You couldn’t help but wonder if you were as good as people seemed to imagine. Surrounded by so many dancers at Russet, surely your own talent would pale in comparison.

As soon as the music began though, everything faded. Insecurities slipping away, a lightness entered your chest as, eyes falling shut, you slowly inhaled.

Taking a step forward, you opened your eyes and began.

To you, dance had several phases. The first was learning, where you memorized each step and put them in order. The second was understanding, where your muscle memory began to take over and the combination felt smoother. The final phase, performance, was when you thought not of the steps, and were free to just dance.

This was your favorite phrase. In this phase, your mind separated from your body, leaving you only with sweat and emotion. Dance was the only art form composed solely of the body. An odd combination of physical strength and artistic beauty, it was both a testament to human capability and human emotion.

Losing yourself in the music, you ebbed and flowed through the combination until the choreography ended and improvisation began. Finally, you let go and held nothing back. Raw, unbridled passion poured out as you lost sight of yourself, so consumed by the movement.

When the song finally finished and you came to a stop, you were panting for breath. Glancing up, the first person you saw was Jimin.

He stood off to one side, leaning casually against the rungs of the barre, but his expression was anything but. Focused on you, his gaze had turned dark in a way which made you catch your breath.

Miss Luna clapped both hands once again, returning your attention to her. Blinking, Jimin shook his head and in your peripheral, you saw him straighten.

“Very good!” Miss Luna scanned the group. “I know our time is nearly at and end, but why don’t we have a few students come out and demonstrate?”

Again, this was fairly common in master classes. After learning the combination, teachers would often single out students to perform as examples. It wasn’t always the students with the best technique who got chosen. Oftentimes, it was as much for passion and performance quality.

Taking a step forward, Miss Luna began to call out names. You were one of the first – setting your water down, you jogged back to center. Jimin was the next person called, then Noelle, much to your excitement. Jungkook was also instructed to join on the floor.

Turning the lights halfway down, Miss Luna pressed play and let you improvise until the combination began. Jungkook started dancing and honestly, he was beautiful, but you couldn’t linger on him for long.

Catching sight of Jimin again, you were once more transported to earlier times. This wasn’t the first time you’d been called out together. Oftentimes, this had happened at conventions but back then, your mind had been too clouded to see him for who he was.

You’d always wanted to beat him in high school, but now, you were consumed by the oddest desire to see him do well.

Glancing up, Jimin caught your gaze and he smiled – but then, the combination began.

By the time you were finished, you could hardly catch your breath but somehow, you felt the most alive you’d been in ages. Back in your own element, surrounded by some of the most amazing dancers in the world – this was what you’d imagined when you came to Russet.

People around the room clapped, some of them begrudgingly. You got the impression many of your classmates weren’t used to not being chosen. As you walked from the floor, you saw surprisingly, Sabrina wasn’t amongst them.

Instead, Sabrina simply looked tired – as though she’d tried her best and it hadn’t been enough. You knew that look. You sympathized with that look.

The look lingered in the back of your mind while you packed up your things and listened to Noelle discuss Halloween tomorrow. When she mentioned Ari had decided to visit her family this weekend, an idea began to form in your mind.

“Wait,” you interrupted, looking up. “Ari can’t come tomorrow?”

Noelle shook her head. “Her brother just turned eighteen, so her whole family is having a party or something.”

“So… her ticket is free, then?”

“Yes…” Noelle paused. “Why? Y/N, what are you planning?”

“Okay. Hear me out,” you said as you shrugged on your coat. It was cold enough now for the coat to be necessary.

Noelle sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Alright, I’m listening.”

Glancing away, you saw Sabrina packing her things on the other side of the room. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you returned to Noelle.

“What if we invited Sabrina?”

Noelle snorted. “Pass.”

“Noelle,” you laughed, reaching out for her arm. “Come on! Do you really think she’s doing anything for Halloween?”

“Probably not. And that’s her own fault.”

“Maybe,” you said, glancing at Sabrina once more. “But how could it hurt? We have an extra ticket, there’ll be tons of people tomorrow night. She’ll probably say no – at least this way, you can claim a write-off on your way into heaven!”

Noelle upper lip twitched. “Oh, is that how write-offs work?”

“Well, I can only assume.”

Finally, she laughed. “Ugh, fine. You can invite her – but only because it’s Halloween, and Halloween is a time for peace. And slutty costumes.”

“Thanks, babe,” you said, squeezing her waist in a one-armed hug.

Sighing exaggeratedly, Noelle waved aside your thanks. Hiking your bag higher, you began to make your way across the room. As you closed in on Sabrina, you began to rethink your choice. It had been nearly a month since anything bad had happened between you but still, you found yourself feeling wary. As tough as you pretended to be, rejection hurt you just as much as the next person.

Still, dancing with Jimin had been a reminder of just how bitter your relationship used to be. If that relationship could change, you had to imagine things with Sabrina could, too.

Coming to a stop at her bag, you waited for her to look up. When she finally did, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

“What?” Sabrina asked, sounding defensive. “What do you want, Y/N?”

You couldn’t really blame her for her suspicion. Had your situations been reversed, you would’ve been equally distrustful. It was likely Sabrina thought you were coming over to gloat, or say something to do with class today. Another twinge of pity went through you as Sabrina zipped her bag shut to stand.

“I just wanted to know what you were doing tomorrow,” you said, trying to smile. “Noelle has an extra ticket to a Halloween party, and we thought you might like to come.”

Sabrina stared. “What?”

“Tomorrow is Halloween,” you said, a bit slower. “You know – when we were kids, it was all about costumes and candy. Now, it’s about costumes and booze?”

Sabrina failed to crack a smile. “And you want… me to come to this party?”

Something about the way she said this made you sad, as though she genuinely thought this might be a joke. As though at any moment, someone might jump out and yell SIKE.

“Yeah,” you said, softening a little. “Look – it’s not a big deal if you can’t make it. A bunch of our class is going though, so we thought of you.”

Sabrina hesitated, then glanced at the door. “Okay,” she said, looking back. “Okay, yeah. I’ll come.”

Stifling your surprise, you nodded. “Great. I’ll text you where to meet us tomorrow before the club. Wear a costume,” you added before walking away. “Noelle said it’s required.”

“Alright,” Sabrina said, so quiet you almost missed it.

Walking away, you were nearly at the door when Jungkook popped up before you. Flashing a smile, he fixed a loose strand of hair away from his face. Feet fumbling to a stop, you could only stare.

“Y/N, right?” he said, sounding shy.

Unable to find the words, you blinked in response. The way Jungkook danced had been so confident, you’d only assumed this to be his off-floor persona, as well. Hearing him sound shy was unexpected.

Also – you hadn’t expected him to know your name.

“I… yeah, that’s me.” Shaking your head, you smiled. “Jungkook, right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I just wanted to say I’m such a big fan of your dancing. It was great to take class with you today.”

Without meaning to, a laugh escaped your lips. Jungkook stared at you, baffled until you quickly waved him off.

“Oh, no – no! Sorry,” you said. “I’m not laughing at you! I’m just laughing at the ridiculousness of you saying you’re a fan of me.”

Some of Jungkook’s wariness disappeared, and a small smile played across his lips.

“Well, I am.” His grin widened. “I used to assist on the convention circuit, too and I remember you being called out all the time. You and Jimin,” he added, glancing across the room.

You looked, too and saw Jimin still packing his things. His back was stiff, pointedly not looking in your direction. Lingering on him a moment, you returned to Jungkook.

“Still,” you said with a laugh. “It’s a bit of a stretch to say we took class together when you’re the teacher’s assistant.”

“True.” Jungkook paused. “Well, next time you’re in LA, let’s fix that. Let me know if you’re ever in town and we can take a class together.”

Despite yourself, your brows raised. It was harmless, but Jungkook was definitely flirting with you. He was attractive, sure and seemed nice, but he lived in LA and you had a boyfriend. You should probably leave before things had the chance to go any further. The last thing you needed was another complication. Adjusting your bag, you gave Jungkook a small smile.

“Sounds like a plan,” you said before turning away.

Jungkook chuckled from behind. “Bye, Y/N.”

As you joined Noelle at the door, she stared over your shoulder.

“What?” you said, coming to a stop.

Noelle’s gaze moved to yours in disbelief. “How?” she demanded as you exited class. “How do you have all these men just… tripping over themselves for you?”

Heat rising to your face, you shook your head. “That’s – I,” you sputtered. “You’re being ridiculous!”

“Am I?” Noelle grinned. “First Jimin, now Jungkook… and all this while having a boyfriend.”

“I… you... Jimin is not tripping over himself for me!”

Both her brows shot way, way up. “Is that the only part of the sentence you took objection to?”

“Shut up,” you groaned and shoved her in the side.

Noelle laughed but nodded. “Alright, fine! I’ll stop. Did Sabrina say she’ll come?”

“She did.”

“Great. I still don’t like her,” Noelle said, pushing open the door. “But I guess you’re right, I have an extra ticket. It’s nice to be nice.”

You laughed, pulling your coat tighter as you walked outside. “You’re a saint.”

While you walked, your phone dinged and pulling this from your pocket, you saw a notification on Instagram. Jeon_Jungkook97 has followed you.

Shaking your head, you returned this to your jacket as you continued. While it was nice of Jungkook to compliment your dancing, his approval didn’t mean as much as certain other peoples had. This realization stuck in your mind, making you wonder about Noelle’s teasing jibe.

She had said Jimin flirted with you, but that wasn’t true – was it? You would have known if Jimin were flirting. It was hard to pick out though, since Jimin was friendly with everyone. That was just who he was; as he’d said earlier, he liked to be liked. A note of uncertainty entered your thoughts though, recalling the ballet class with your chest pressed to his. Shoving this away, you forced yourself to focus on the upcoming weekend.

Halloween was a night for fun, for letting loose and enjoying yourself with your friends. You refused to let the night be spoiled by any lingering feelings – either from you, or towards you.

The next night was perfect Halloween weather.

Chilly, but not cold enough to risk snow falling. There were several Halloweens from childhood you could recall trick-or-treating with a winter coat flung over your costume because the temperature had dropped below freezing.

You, Noelle and Irene showed up to Paulo’s house around 8:00 PM, shivering a little while you stood on his doorstep. Paulo was one of the few freshmen who lived off-campus, having known several upperclassmen before he came to Russet. The brownstone he lived in was cute, with window boxes you imagined hosted flowers in the summer.

Tugging your pink and black minidress down, you adjusted your bow as Paulo opened the door.

Blinking, he took in your costumes. “The Powerpuff girls!” He cheered, raising an arm overhead. “Try not to take down any of the villains upstairs, yeah?”

“No promises,” said Irene, flicking hair over her shoulder.

Entering the house, you heard thumping bass from an apartment upstairs. Paulo lived on the third floor and as you climbed the steps, the music grew louder. It took Paulo two tries to shove open the door – “warped wood,” he explained – but once you were inside, you saw familiar faces.

“The Powerpuff girls!” Jasmine cried, jumping up from the couch. “Finally! Thank god – can you take down Eamon? He came here dressed as a potato, or something.”

“It’s an avocado!” Eamon shouted from the kitchen. He was dressed in a round, green costume with a halo overhead. “I’m ‘holy guacamole’ – get it?” he said, pointing at the halo.

Jasmine stared at him a moment. “That’s terrible. Worse than mine,” she said with a wave down her body. “I’ve been Princess Jasmine for the past five Halloweens. It’s easy to remember and I already have the outfit.”

Laughing, you shrugged off your coat and added this to a pile on the couch. “It’s a classic,” you agreed as you turned.

Noelle had managed to procure at least twenty tickets to the party tonight, so a lot of your freshman Russet class was in attendance. Including Sabrina, who stood in the corner, talking to Louis over cups of red punch. She looked up when you entered, pausing before she gave a small wave. Surprised by the gesture, you did the same.

“No.” Noelle groaned, coming to a stop alongside you. When you looked, you saw she’d already removed her coat. “Tell me Sabrina didn’t come to this party dressed as a ballerina.”

“We did invite her at the last minute,” you laughed. “Hard to find a good Halloween costume in a day.”

“Hey,” Noelle argued. “There’s no we here. You were the one who invited her, and you’ll be the one to accept the consequences should your social experiment fail.”

“Done,” you agreed. “Speaking of social experiments though, I’m ready to get drunk tonight. Where’s the alcohol?”

“Kitchen!” Irene called, brushing past. “Or – that’s where Brian disappeared to when we entered, so I can only assume.”

Telling Noelle you’d be back with drinks, you wound through the room towards where Irene had pointed. The kitchen was tiny, on par with most city apartments. There was only room enough for one or two people, so you were lucky it was deserted when you entered.

Surveying the counter, you found the usual party staples. A bowl of red punch, a bunch of beer and various liquor bottles with chasers. Skipping over the communal punch bowl, you reached for a bottle of diet coke and coconut rum.

“Oh,” a voice said as they entered the kitchen. “Sorry – I didn’t know you were in here.”

Glancing up, you saw Jimin and froze.

He’d dyed his hair black – that was the first thing you noticed. Jimin’s hair was no longer blonde, but completely dark. His outfit confused you at first – a frilly, white blouse with slicked-back hair and dark trousers – until you saw his bright red contacts and the dribble of blood at his mouth.

“A vampire,” you said, finally recovering your voice. Scanning his body, you frowned. “Where are the teeth, though?”

Jimin blinked, his gaze jerking up from your waist.

“Huh?” he said, sounding a bit strangled.

Cheeks heating a little – your dress was pretty short – you repeated yourself. “The teeth,” you said, pointing at your own lips. “Don’t vampires have fangs?”

“Oh, right.” Jimin dug around in his pocket – fuck, were his trousers tight – to produce twin fangs. “I took them off when I got here. They’re really hard to talk in.”

“Go on then, Park,” you said with a grin. “Put them in.”

“One second.” Twisting to face the wall, Jimin popped them in his mouth. Turning around, he bared his teeth. “Sexy?”

With the teeth in though, the word came out more like shex-shie and you burst into laughter. “So sexy,” you agreed, reaching past him for a cup.

Jimin stiffened when your arm brushed his front. Unbidden, you thought about what Noelle had said – Jimin had been flirting with you. Pulling away, you resumed making your drinks and tried not to look in his direction.

Even so, you remained aware of his presence. Jimin inched his way behind you, reaching for the whiskey on the other side. His arm brushed your elbow as he went, right knee nudging yours in an intimate gesture.

Glancing up from the counter, you accidentally caught his gaze. Despite your earlier joking, he did look sexy. Devastatingly so. Even the blood-red contacts weren’t enough to deter the shiver which ran down your spine.

Shaking yourself free from your trance, you grabbed both cups and pulled back.

“So, what’re you drinking?” you asked.

You decided it was best to steer the conversation away from how sexy Park Jimin was or was not.

Seemingly oblivious to your inner turmoil, Jimin poured whiskey into his cup. “Whiskey and coke. Can you pass me that bottle?”

“Sure,” you said, leaping at the chance to prevent him from walking past you again. “Here you go.”

Pushing this forward, you watched Jimin pour both drinks all the way to the brim. He paused near the end, staring into the depths before he looked up. He seemed to be warring with something, debating whether or not to speak whatever was on his mind.

“So…” He paused. “Do you know Jungkook, or something?”

You blinked. “Jungkook…?”

“You know, Miss Luna’s assistant. Jeon Jungkook.”

“Oh! Jungkook. No, I don’t really know him.”

“You were talking to him at the end of class, though?”

Hearing the curiosity in his voice, both your brows raised. “And?”

“And nothing,” Jimin said, sounding uncomfortable. “I just… I didn’t know you knew him, that’s all.”

“I mean, I don’t.” You paused. “But even if I did, what does it matter?”

“It doesn’t.” His cheeks began to redden. “It’s just – ah, never mind. We don’t have that great a history, that’s all. He’s kind of the reason I’m at Russet this year.”

You stared at Jimin a moment. “Wow, what a tragedy,” you said, stifling a laugh. “To have been forced to attend one of the most prestigious dance institutions in the world.”

His upper lip twitched. “It’s not that. I was deciding between attending Russet and accepting a job offer out west. I was asked to join this pop star on tour… anyways, Jungkook’s never liked me much. It’s a long story.” Jimin’s brow furrowed. “My offer was rescinded at the last minute. The artist never said why, but I always got the feeling he had something to do with it.”

You stared at Jimin a moment, unsure how to respond. Jungkook hadn’t seemed like that kind of person, but you supposed you’d only talked to him for a few minutes. If that was true, what happened to Jimin sucked and yet, the next words from your mouth nearly had you face-palming.

“And here I thought I was your biggest rival, Park,” you said.

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Are you… jealous, Y/N?”

He sounded almost pleased by the notion, which sent a different kind of shiver down your spine.

“Not at all,” you said quickly, turning back to your drinks.

Jimin made a soft tsk-ing sound, as though he didn’t believe you.

“That sucks,” you continued, determined to change the subject. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Yeah. Maybe it was all for the best, though. Things happen for a reason, right?”

Looking up, you caught Jimin’s stare. He didn’t look immediately away and you got the oddest sensation he meant more than what he said. Hastily, you pushed this feeling aside, clutching your drinks as you entered the main room. Jimin followed close behind, two cups in his hands.

“When did you get here?” you asked. “Been here long?”

Jimin shook his head. “Nah. Hoseok and I got here like, ten minutes ago. He should be around here somewhere, he –”

“Y/N!”

You looked up just in time to see Hoseok, Jimin’s roommate, barreling towards you.

“It’s been so long!” Crushing you to his chest, Hoseok wrapped you in a hug. “Hope Jimin isn’t boring you to death,” he stage-whispered before he pulled away.

“Just for that.” Jimin arched a brow. “Both these drinks are for me.”

“No – wait, wait. I’m sorry!” Hoseok pouted. “Hand over the drink, Park. It’s been the longest fucking week.”

Jimin grinned and relented, handing Hoseok his cup as you laughed. Hoseok was a newer friend, but he was close to Jimin, so he’d gradually bled into your latest gatherings. Despite not being on the ballet track, most of the dancers at Russet knew of him. Hoseok had that way about him.

Glancing down at your outfit, Hoseok held up a finger. “Let me guess – Blossom,” he said, turning to scan the room. “Which means… aha! Irene is Bubbles and Noelle is Buttercup. Makes sense.”

“And you are…” Pausing, you squinted at his outfit. “Someone at the spa?”

“Sure.” Hoseok shrugged. “Honestly, I just wanted to wear a bathrobe.”

Said bathrobe was paired with only boxers, the front of the robe open to display his toned abs. The costume didn’t surprise you, based on past interactions with Hoseok.

Casually, he twirled the robe tie in a circle. “Impressive, no?” Hoseok glanced away. “Whoa, wait – they have beer pong? See you all later!”

Hurrying off, he left you alone with Jimin. Shaking your head, you glanced in his direction and saw Jimin down his whole drink. Arching a brow, you were about to ask why when Irene called your names from across the room.

“Y/N!” She waved her hands. “Jimin! Get over here, you two – we need more for flip cup!”

You found yourself pulled in this direction despite your insistence you didn’t do well under pressure. Jimin ended up at the other end of the table and you lost sight of him when you started to play, paired with Jasmine for a partner.

By the end of the first round, you discovered you weren’t as horrible a player as you’d imagined. Then someone suggested mixed drinks for the second round, and things became fuzzier. There were more people present than just current students of Russet. One of Paulo’s roommates knew Seokjin, so you saw him in the room, along with Sana.

You chatted with both over the course of the evening, in addition to a guy who’d recently debuted on Broadway, Kim Taehyung. Apparently, there was already buzz around him for a Tony. Taehyung was nice, but it was sometime during this conversation you realized how tipsy you were. Apparently, not drinking for several months and then going ham made for very low tolerance.

Collapsing onto the couch, you joined Irene and Brian’s conversation. In the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Noelle – a terrible flip cup player, she’d roped Hoseok into giving her private lessons, but these seemed to be going terribly. Or perhaps very well, given how much the two of them were laughing.

You completely forgot about Jimin until you spotted him across the room talking to Sabrina. Seeing them together, you straightened. Both seemed fairly comfortable, which struck you as odd. Since that morning in Jimin’s dorm, you hadn’t really seen them hang out together.

Despite this, Jimin was laughing at something Sabrina had said. Tearing your gaze away, you forced yourself to focus on the conversation at hand. It didn’t matter who Jimin spoke to, or even who he decided to go home with tonight. He was your dance partner and friend, nothing more and besides – you had a boyfriend.

Blinking, you reached into your clutch and pulled out your phone. To your disappointment, you’d gotten no texts from Finn since this morning. You assumed he was still at his party but didn’t know for sure. Shooting him a text, hey, you waited for a response and when you got none, returned your phone to your purse.

Across the room, you heard Noelle yell your name. “Y/N!” She cupped her mouth with both hands. “We need another person for flip cup!”

Laughing, you pushed yourself from the couch and were immediately roped into your fourth game of the night. The night blurred again after that, turning into a pleasant hum of conversation and booze. At some point, Ubers were called to bring you to the club. As you rushed downstairs, you realized you forgot your coat as soon as you stepped outside.

Shivering violently, you rubbed your arms and cursed yourself for poor foresight.

“Y/N?” Jimin came to a stop alongside you. “Hey, where’s your coat?”

“Inside,” you said through chattering teeth. “I-it’s fine, though. I’m fine!”

Jimin gave you a look. “Where’s Paulo?” he said, glancing around. “I’ll grab him, we can get your coat before we go –”

“The Uber’s already here, though,” you argued, grabbing his sleeve to drag him towards the curb. “I’ll be fine from here to the club!”

Jimin sighed but gave in, following when you rushed to the grey SUV. Irene had claimed the front seat, so you and Jimin pulled open the middle door – Noelle and Hoseok were crowding behind you, so you and Jimin ended up together in the backseat.

Collapsed in a heap, you giggled as Jimin tried to squish himself in a corner. “Sorry,” he said, trying – and failing – to keep his knees separate.

“Jimin.” You snorted. “Are we going to go through this again? Your hands have been in way more inappropriate places than that this semester.”

Jimin’s lips parted, shocked, but you were already hoisting yourself over the middle seat. Draping your arms next to Noelle, you begged her to play your favorite song on the radio. Had you been more sober, you might’ve recognized your position to be precarious – perched on the edge of your seat, your ass hovered inches away from Jimin’s face.

Plopping back down, you glanced sideways at Jimin and found him frozen. Suddenly, you realized the visual he’d had.

“Um, so what happened to the teeth?” you blurted, determined to change the subject.

Jimin blinked and managed to meet your gaze. “Casualty of flip cup,” he said. “One of them fell out during the game and I couldn’t find where it rolled.”

“Well, that’s okay. You can just be one of those vampires who blend in with normal humans. You know, the kind whose fangs only come out when they want to bite someone.”

“That’s true.” Jimin arched a brow. “Lucky for you, I’m not hungry.”

“Lucky for me? Lucky for you,” you retorted. “My blood is about half alcohol right now. If you drank my blood, you’d be a very silly vampire.”

The idea of a silly vampire made you laugh – even more so when you pictured said vampire as Jimin. He seemed much too coherent for your liking right now.

“A silly vampire, huh?” Jimin looked on, amused. “Damn, Y/N – when was the last time you went out? Your tolerance is shit.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I haven’t drunk much this semester. Too much dance, too little time. I think the last time I went out was –”

“We’re here!” squealed Noelle, throwing open the door.

A blast of cold air hit you and you shivered, wishing you’d worn your coat. Jimin’s gaze remained steady on yours.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he said lowly. “I can give you, uh…”

“Your shirt?” you said dryly, lifting a brow as you brushed past. “Then you’d be shirtless, Park. Let’s think this through.”

Jimin chuckled before he followed suit, although you cursed as soon as you left the car. He was correct. It was freezing, even with your alcohol-induced blanket.

“Come on!” you yelped, following Noelle towards the entrance.

Bypassing the line, Noelle walked straight towards the bouncer and showed him her phone. He nodded and waved her past, counting your friend group who followed. Not everyone from Paulo’s place had gone to the club, but enough for you to make quite the entrance.

“Y/N!” Noelle doubled back to link arms with you. “Come on – this way! That guy’s going to show us to our table.”

“Table?” you asked her, wide-eyed.

Tables in a club on Halloween night were ridiculously expensive, but it seemed Noelle had downplayed her brother’s connections. Your group was led right to the front of the upper balcony, getting a coveted spot overlooking the dance floor below.

This was undeniably the coolest club you’d been in. Not that you’d been in many, mind you, but this one had to take the cake. A half-circle of tables took up the top floor, with twin staircases descending to the main room below. Most of the lower floor was for dancing, although you saw additional tables pushed to the sides. Fluorescent bars and dance platforms were dotted throughout and above all was the DJ booth, blasting the latest songs.

“Whoa,” you breathed.

Noelle grinned, squeezing your arm to pull you into the booth. As soon as you settled in, Jasmine leapt up and clapped her hands.

“I want to be in one of those!” she said, pointing to a glowing cage at the center of the dance floor.

“Oo, me too!” Irene leapt up to join her.

“Me, three!” said Paulo, clambering out of the booth.

“Awesome.” Irene beamed and glanced your way. “What about you, Y/N? You in?”

The idea was tempting for a moment, but then Finn flashed through your mind. You highly doubted he’d be on board with you gyrating for a room full of strangers without him. Somewhat dejectedly, you plopped back on the bench.

“That’s okay,” you sighed. “I think I’m going to stay here for a while. I’ll join you later!”

Irene frowned but nodded, following the rest when they left for the stairs. About half the group went, clearing out the table while you stared at the dance floor.

Jimin slid into the bench alongside you. “You don’t want to dance?”

Startled, you glanced in his direction. While you watched, Jimin began to undo his cuffs, casually rolling the sleeves of his shirt. His hair, which had been slicked back at the start of the night, was starting to fall. Several dark strands hung over his forehead, although this only seemed to make the look more appealing.

“No,” you said, crossing your legs. “I just… don’t really feel like it.”

“Is this the whole hating clubs thing again?”

“Kind of.” You laughed. “I don’t know. Club dancing isn’t like normal dancing, you know?”

“It is when you’re at the club with all dancers,” Jimin pointed out, nodding towards the floor.

Following his gaze, you saw Jasmine dancing full-out in a lit-up cage. She wasn’t so much gyrating as she was creating choreography on the fly. The mere mortals around her looked on in awe. Fighting a smile, you returned to Jimin.

“Okay, that does look like fun,” you admitted. “The last time I was at a club was with Finn.”

Jimin blinked. “Sorry – what?”

“In the cab,” you said, leaning closer in order to be heard. “You asked me when I last went out. It was that night… um, the night you came and picked me up.”

Jimin stared at you a moment, as though contemplating something important. Abruptly, he stood and held out a hand. You blinked at this like he’d offered a football.

“What are you doing?” you said, glancing up.

“Taking you down to the dance floor.” Jimin retracted said hand. “Come on, Y/N! You don’t have to give out dry lap dances, or whatever.”

“Hey!” In disbelief, your mouth fell open. “You said you’d forget all about that!”

His smile turned impish. “Seriously, we can just do the sprinkler, or something. It’ll be fun!”

“The sprinkler?” Starting to laugh, you stood. “Was that really the first move you thought of?”

“Nah. My go-to move is the criss-cross, but I figured this was more your speed.”

Snorting, you shoved him in the arm before following Jimin to the dance floor. It didn’t take you long to spot your other friends, clustered near the front and around the DJ booth.

“Y/N!” Noelle cheered, breaking off from the pack. “You made it!”

She nearly spilled her drink while she danced, catching herself just in time as she spun around. You grinned, entering the circle with Jimin by your side. He did, in fact, pull out the criss-cross – Hoseok joined in and soon, there was a Fortnite dance battle between them. You truly haven’t lived until you’ve seen a TikTok dance-off between two semi-professional dancers.

This ended with both declaring mutual defeat, and Hoseok disappearing to buy the next round. Noelle shimmied her way over to Jasmine, accepting the hand given to stand on the platform.

You laughed at their ridiculous dance moves, choosing instead to stay on the ground. The crowd around you had thinned since you’d joined. Eamon disappeared a few minutes later, saying something about needing a drink upstairs. Before long, Irene had joined Jasmine and Noelle on the platform, leaving you alone with Jimin on the floor.

Under other circumstances, you might have felt uncomfortable, but Jimin was so good at putting you at ease. Determined to keep you in the present, he came up with more and more complicated dance moves which had you snorting with laughter.

On a particularly flamboyant spin, Jimin accidentally smacked the drink from someone’s grasp. Blue vodka splattered everywhere, drenching its owner – a burly man in leather who snarled in frustration.

Looking up, he met your gaze and his eyes narrowed.

“Shit. Run!” you blurted out.

Grabbing Jimin by the arm, you dragged him into the crowd.

“No, wait – let me apologize!” Jimin tried to twist around. “I can pay for his drink! I can –”

Once there was suitable distance between you and the guy, you came to a stop. Laughing so hard you nearly fell over, you turned sideways to face him.

Bodies pressed against you from every side but rather than feel claustrophobic, all you could think about was Jimin before you. His hair had become thoroughly mussed during the night and you fought the sudden desire to smooth it down.

Although your breath came hard, the club around you seemed to slow. The music somehow had narrowed to pinpricks, a heady thump of bass while everything dulled.

What you should’ve done was taken a step back – but you didn’t.

Instead, your gaze drifted across his face. Jimin stared back, something intense to his gaze you couldn’t quite name. Breath caught in your throat, his eyes dropped to your lips.

Before you could react, someone bumped into you from behind, sending you careening forward. Jimin caught you easily, one arm around your waist and your chest pressed to his. You could feel every hard line of his body, his thigh wedged between your legs while you grasped at his arms. Heart thudding traitorously against your ribcage, you tried to ignore the emotions which followed.

It was impossible.

The song playing was slower, sexier than the one which had inspired the dance-off. Without meaning to, your weight subtly shifted. This caused your hips to move against his as Jimin quietly sucked in a breath. The effect this had on him was instantaneous. His grip on you tightened, gaze heady with desire and something more. Before you could second-guess what you were doing, you moved your hips again – this time, on purpose.

Jimin’s eyes darkened. Without looking away, his grip on you tightened as he slowly dragged you up his thigh. Suddenly breathless, your hands gripped him tighter while your eyes fluttered shut. The heat of his body on yours, the faint smell of cologne and sweat, the tension in his limbs and the knowledge of what he could do to you – it all left your head spinning.

“Y/N,” Jimin murmured, low in your ear.

You weren’t used to him saying your name like that.

You were used to him saying your name in every other way, but not that. Sharp with dancer’s critique, brusque with instruction, light with teasing – but not like something heavy was lodged in his throat. Maybe his heart.

Panicked, your eyes flew open.

What were you doing? This wasn’t some random stranger and this sure as hell wasn’t your boyfriend. This was Jimin. Stumbling backwards, you broke from his hold. Jimin seemed equally stunned, staring at you on the dance floor.

“I have to go,” you blurted and whirled around.

Shoving into the crowd, you heard Jimin emit a soft groan. Despite this, he didn’t immediately pursue, for which you were grateful. Stumbling through strangers, strobe lights flashed brightly overhead. You squeezed between someone dressed as a go-go and another person dressed as a werewolf. Skidding to a stop on the edge of the floor, you scanned the room and saw no one from Russet.

When you glanced over your shoulder, you saw Jimin now followed. Panicking again, you began to move. Beside one of the bars, you spotted a hallway labeled restrooms. Heading in this direction, you quickly disappeared inside the door marked women.

Once inside, you locked yourself in a stall, lowered the lid and sat down. Head in hands, you slowly exhaled. You were a coward; that much was clear. Jimin was probably out there looking for you right now, but you’d rather hide in a bathroom than face him.

The fluorescent lighting overhead was too bright – it made you feel overexposed. After a long moment, you fished around in your purse and pulled out your phone. Flipping to your thread with Finn, you saw he’d sent no response since your text. Complete and utter silence.

Heart cracking a little, you slid this in your bag and stared at the door. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. When you imagined you and Finn at college, you’d always pictured you together, attending the same parties and sharing the same adventures. Tonight though, had proven to be anything but that. Finn hadn’t once glanced at his phone judging by the unread mark next to your text.

Dimly, you wondered why you weren’t more upset about this. It should bother you that Finn hadn’t called or even texted throughout the day. Sure, he was out with friends, but so were you and you’d reached out – as soon as you thought this, your heart sank.

You weren’t sure you could call Jimin a friend after what had just happened.

Sure, you’d only danced, and it had only been for a second but still, guilt bloomed behind your ribcage. The idea of Finn doing the same thing with anyone else made your heart twist. You wouldn’t feel that way if what you’d done wasn’t wrong.

Groaning out loud, you lowered your head to your hands. After several minutes, you felt calm enough to stand and pretend-flush the toilet. As you exited the stall, you walked to the sink and began washing your hands. Staring at yourself in the mirror, a million things ran through your mind.

Clearly, the situation with Jimin was worse than you’d thought. The spark you’d felt kept returning, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. Maybe the only solution was to find a new partner. The very idea made your heart sink, but you couldn’t deny things had gotten out of hand.

Before you could seriously consider the option, the door to the bathroom flung open and banged against the wall. Sabrina stormed in, wiping both eyes with the heel of her hand. You froze, staring at her in the mirror but she didn’t seem to notice your presence.

When she finally lowered her hands and took a deep breath, she saw you and froze.

For a moment, you both only stared at each other and then – you coughed. Awkwardly, you began to dry your hands.

“Are you okay?” you asked, tentative.

Sabrina stiffened. “I’m fine,” she muttered, walking to the sink.

You watched her wash her hands, struggling and failing to control her expression. Sabrina’s hair was a mess and you stared, wondering where she’d been. You hadn’t seen her since you’d entered the club, but had assumed she’d stayed on the second floor.

“Are you sure?” you pressed, remembering your night at the other club. “You know, you can –”

“Will you… just stop.” Sabrina closed her eyes. “Will you … stop pretending like we’re friends, or something?”

Struck with disbelief, you could only stare. “I… are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Wow.” You shook your head. “Just wow.”

Her lips tightened and finally, she whirled around. “What?” Sabrina demanded. “What is it?”

The look in her eyes was familiar. Her frustrated, angry look was mirrored in your expression, but you found you didn’t care. Sabrina was clearly going through something, but her rudeness to you was the final straw. Tired from Finn, Jimin and the constant pressure you were both under, something about Sabrina’s words made you break.

“Why are you always such a… such a bitch,” you blurted, hurling the word like a knife. “What did I ever do to you? Why do you always act like you hate me so much?”

Sabrina’s upper lip curled. “Why do you always think this is about you, Y/N? Maybe I just wanted one second of peace and instead, here you are. Like always.”

“Here I am, in the public restroom of a club we’re all at?”

“No. Here you are in my life,” she snapped, pushing herself from the sink. “People won’t talk to me? It’s because you’ve run your mouth about things you think I’ve done. I’m falling in the class ranks? It’s because you’re after my spot. Jimin doesn’t want to be my partner? It’s because of his feelings for you. I’m sick of turning around and always seeing you there!”

“Okay, but none of those things – I, Jimin doesn’t have feelings for me,” you sputtered.

Sabrina gave you a look. “Oh, please, Y/N.” Her laughter was harsh. “Why else would he turn me down?”

“Um, maybe because he’s a decent human being? Unlike yourself.”

“Great, yeah.” Sabrina glared. “Make me the bad guy again.”

“I’m not the one doing that,” you huffed. “You are. You want to blame me because no one wants to be your friend? Maybe try reaching out first. Maybe don’t talk shit about people behind their backs. And I’m improving because I’m taking extra lessons. No thanks to you, of course.”

“Don’t try and make me feel bad because I didn’t have time to give you lessons.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m trying to explain why I’m improving and you’re not.”

Sabrina bristled. “Are you saying I don’t work hard, too?”

“No.” Mirthless, you laughed. “I know you work hard – maybe even as hard as I do. But you know what the big difference is between you and me?” you said, drawing yourself to your full height.

Sabrina’s eyes glimmered while she stared you down. Still, she retained her aloofness when she said, “What? What’s the big secret?”

“You think everyone’s out to get you,” you said, stepping closer. “You think not asking for help makes you stronger, but it’s the exact opposite. At least I’ve improved since the start of the year. What have you done?”

Not waiting for an answer, you pushed past Sabrina and walked out the door.

Shoving it wide, you entered the hallway. Dance music flooded your senses and you winced, remembering where you were and what you’d been doing. Luckily, Jimin was nowhere in sight. He must not have seen where you’d disappeared to.

Shoulders slumping, you pulled out your phone and dialed a number. Walking to the front, you concentrated on breathing while you waited for them to pick up. Coming to a stop beside coat check, you didn’t leave the club – a lesson you’d learned the hard way.

Noelle answered on the third ring. “Babe?” she yelled, barely audible over the din. “What’s going on? Where are you?”

“Are you…” Closing your eyes, you paused. “Can we leave?”

Noelle paused, then muffled her phone with one hand. “Irene!” you heard her yell. “You good to get a ride home for these people? Okay, cool. Bye!” Her phone became un-muffled. “Where are you, babe?”

After explaining your location, you hung up and hugged yourself with both arms. Noelle burst into view a few moments later, scanning the crowd like a mom on a mission. When she saw you, she rushed over – and you promptly burst into tears.

“Oh, no!” Pulling you into a hug, Noelle began to rub your back. “No, no, babe! Don’t cry! What’s going on? Do I need to kick someone’s ass?”

Hearing Jimin’s words said by Noelle only made you cry harder. Wisely sensing this to be a problem not easily solved, Noelle continued rubbing your back while walking towards the exit.

The two of you went outside and, as luck would have it, saw a group of people arriving at the club. Noelle snagged their taxi, helping you in the backseat and giving the driver your address. As you settled against her, your head on her shoulder, Noelle kept rubbing your arm and waited for the tears to stop.

You weren’t really sure why you were crying.

Of course, Sabrina was terrible, as was the situation with Jimin, but it was more than that. Dancing with Jimin hadn’t caused problems in your relationship with Finn. There had been problems in your relationship Finn and so, feelings had crept in which led you to dance with Jimin.

More than that though, you couldn’t help but notice Noelle had come to your aid much faster than Finn ever had. Even Jimin had dropped everything when you asked, and he was someone you’d once called your enemy. Noelle had been having fun, but she’d cut her night short because you were upset. This knowledge crushed you and for the very first time, you realized your relationship with Finn might be unfixable.

Curled up on the backseat, you let yourself cry a bit more. You could be calm and rational in the morning, you decided but for now, you just felt defeated.

When you finally climbed into bed at your dorm at night, you looked at your phone and saw Finn still hadn’t texted.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! 😊 New chapters of Raise the Barre are posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted.

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST

#bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #jimin au #bts au #jimin writing #bts writing #jimin series #jimin e2l #bts series #bts e2l #jimin dance au #bts dance au

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lululawrence · 3 years ago

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Can u please be nicer on ao3? Maybe you should try answering people's comments

when i read the first line i was honestly flabbergasted and wracking my brain trying to figure out when in the world i wasn't nice on ao3 ever. because i honestly truly try to be nice to everyone always, even when i'm angry or frustrated or people are going after those i love and want to protect. if there was a time i WASN'T nice on ao3, i wondered if it was maybe because my comment had been misunderstood or someone saw me razzing an author i'm good friends with and they didn't get that we are close and i said what i did with so much love and appreciation, you know? like what??? did i do???

but then i read your second line. and please forgive me if i come off as rude in my response to this, because honestly i'm in a pretty bad spot mentally and emotionally in general right now, but PARTICULARLY today, and this ask triggered an anxiety response in me. so. i'm trying really hard to word this in a way to educate without being condescending or mean, but i might not succeed.

firstly, thank you for your comments i'm assuming you've left. i'm also assuming they were nice comments, in which case extra thanks. i'm sure i'll send you effusive responses on ao3 when the time comes.

secondly, please understand that sending an ask like this, on anonymous no less, is incredibly entitled. writing is not my profession, i receive no compensation for my works that i post for free online, and as a part of that it is not required of me to respond. i do my very best to reply to every comment i receive, but it is not always in a timely manner, because i have other priorities in my life. all of which leads us to my third point, which is:

writers do not owe you a reply to your comments. end of. there are no other qualifications or quantifying modifiers to be added to the statement. is it nice to be acknowledged and know your comment was seen? sure. but do they OWE you one? hell no.

in fact, i'd like to offer you a suggestion. a way of tweaking your thinking about the comments you leave on fics. instead of looking at comments you leave as being something that deserves a reply from the author, think of your comments as your way of paying the author for the gift of their time and talents that they have shared with you by posting their fic. that's how i think of the comments i leave for authors. i'm giving them my thanks for the words they've shared! i want to help THEM feel as amazing as they have made ME feel when i read their fic. in fact, my hope isn't necessarily a response from them, but instead my hope is THE GIFT OF THEM SHARING MORE FIC WITH ME. i'm a selfish bitch in that way and i always want all the fic to read. i never want that well to go dry. one way i can ensure that doesn't happen is by supporting authors and being kind to them and spreading all the love and excitement i can about their writing in the hopes that my words will inspire them to share more.

because whether they reply or not, i GUARANTEE they are seeing your comments. i PROMISE they are. and for all you know, your comment might be the one that keeps them writing even when their words aren't coming easily or when they are tempted to give up.

but, again, please remember that no matter what, these authors (including me) don't actually owe you anything.

the rest of this is going under a cut, because honestly my reply is already far too long and i have a LOT more to say now that you've gotten me started.

now, all of this in mind, i'll explain to you why i'm not great with keeping up with comments made on my fics the last couple of years. i don't owe you this explanation any more than i owe you a response to your comments, and i'm honestly not sure you deserve this explanation either, but i'll still offer it anyway. it'll help me feel better knowing i at least put this out there, whether you care or not, mainly because if i don't do that it will cause me greater anxiety having you possibly think i am not responding to people because i feel all high and mighty or that i think i'm better than the comments or whatever the fuck kind of motivation you're attributing to me to see my lack of a response as something "not nice" towards the commenters.

i'm not sure if you've noticed, but i put out a lot of fic. like a lot. a lot of words and shit. i love writing, it's often my therapy and a way for me to help keep my anxiety and depression and ptsd at bay.

now, more personal shit for you, i've got three kids ages 9 and under. the oldest has adhd which we have yet to find a med for that helps to the extent she needs without side effects that aren't healthy for her to continue with, she also has anxiety, AND she's extremely gifted and starting a new program at a new school, all in the midst of a pandemic. and all of those situations exacerbate her anxiety! huzzah! she's also dealing with the beginning of her tween growing up shit, which is great fun because it means where she used to be pretty damn understanding of her younger brother, she is finding it much more difficult to. because the second oldest? he's autistic with some pretty significant gross motor, speech, and socialization delays that have only been exacerbated because of the previously mentioned pandemic. PLUS he transitioned from his special needs preschool to a fully integrated elementary school for kindergarten last year and then had to deal with all the ups and downs of the switch from e-learning to hybrid to all in schooling when everything in him screams for a normal schedule he can rely on to keep his own anxieties and fears and struggles at their minimum. and that youngest child? he was born in january of last year. he STILL barely leaves the house and has only met other children in close range a couple of times because, once again, pandemic!

add onto all of this my own mental health issues, the fact that my husband ALSO battles major clinical depression, adhd, and anxiety, AND we live with my parents who have their own health issues, both mental and physical. i run the home for our house of seven. i keep this place functioning, fed, clothed, clean, and everywhere we need to be for all of our five million appointments every. fucking. day. there is a REASON i've been borderline burnt out for the last fucking year and a half.

now, for fun, i have fandom shit. i love it here, even if it is a dumpster fire on the best of days, and getting to be a part of the writing community is so very lovely. i adore it. honestly, it's because of those friendships i've built with other writers that i have been able to keep writing and have found just how helpful it can be for my mental health. but i'm REALLY. INCREDIBLY. BUSY. i hardly have time to get on tumblr for just a quick swipe through my dash most days. i put off asks so long i forget i have them. i don't have the mental and emotional capacity to talk to people on here or interact fully a lot of the time. but i do my best to do so and be kind while i'm at it even when i don't want to be.

then, on top of that? i also run fic fests like @wordplayfics and help friends run their own. because not only am i a writer, i'm a reader. i LOVE fic. fic has saved me soooooo many times over the past seven years that i've been here. i want to do what i can to support other writers the best way i can, which is to provide a space for them to create their works that welcomes and helps promote them, but also by doing my monthly fic lists and pocast highlighting what i've been able to read, reblogging their fic posts, and then commenting and kudosing their fics too.

sometimes i get really fucking down on myself because i'm so behind on replying to comments, but my brain is very much a "if you start this, you have to finish it" kind of a brain, and i feel even WORSE sometimes if i reply to comments on some fics and not all of them. but i do my best and reply when i can. i was actually really fucking proud of myself because i had a couple days to myself in june, and i spent hours replying to comments on 20 of my fics. when you have almost 150 fics (i think? i don't even know how many fics i've posted by now), that is only scratching the surface. but i tried and i was so so happy i did that many fics at once. it's exhausting, though, and takes a lot of spoons for me to reply to them in mass like that plus time consuming. so i tried to be happy with those 20 fics and the comments i responded to there and told myself that when i ha a moment to breathe, i'd go and work on replying to some more.

but see, that again causes anxiety and guilt. because i haven't replied to all of them. and that anxiety and guilt can cause me to put it off further OR to put off important things like feeding my children or getting sleep in order to finish it, so i have to make myself put things into perspective and ensure i'm doing the important things, like taking care of myself and my family, first.

and then, i have a moment where i CAN go ahead and reply to comments... but i also have MANY fics that are on deadline and i actually have a schedule. a SCHEDULE. for when i'm going to focus on which fics. i can spell it out for you if you really want. i made it back in APRIL to make sure i didn't sign up for too many fic fests because there are so many going on right now that i want to participate in, but i know i can't do all of them so i had to pick and choose. and when you are SO overscheduled and busy that back in APRIL you had to figure out what fics you would focus on at what time to ensure you got everything written when you wanted to through THE END OF THE YEAR, more choices have to be made.

for example. my writing time and time for myself came down to only one evening a week for ALL fandom things i'm doing and a part of right now once the kids were out of school for the summer. it quickly became apparent that for my own self care i needed more time, so i worked with my husband to find two other days i could carve out at least 30-60 minutes to myself to write every week. and i did. but if i'm already only getting that much time and have committed to those fics and fests and things that you're running etc, you have to choose am i going to use this time to try to squeeze in some comment replies? or am i going to write? and i choose to write. simple as that.

so yeah. see it as selfish if you want. see it as mean. you can honestly see it as whatever the fuck you want, but for me? i know that as soon as i possibly can and i can breathe freely for once and not feel like i am constantly drowning in my day to day life and am doing pretty well when it comes to my fic deadlines and getting started on those christmas cards i'm once again going to be making by hand for everyone on tumblr who chooses to sign up for one this year out of the KINDNESS of my heart and the love i really do feel for so many of you, then i promise i'll be on ao3 catching up and commenting. my friends laugh and make fun of me for it sometimes, because they will sometimes get 10-12 replies to their comments in a single day. they know that's how i work. i WILL reply to every single comment i get, no matter how old it is. but for the love of all that is holy, do NOT add to the anxiety and guilt i already feel over it. the only place that will get you is the ask/comment getting deleted if it's a good day, a fucking long rant like this one if it's not, and a block if it's a REALLY bad day.

if you're asking me to be nice on ao3, then i ask in return that you also be nice by not demanding things of people that they are not in any way obligated to give.

#long post #rant #i almost deleted this #but you sent it on just the right day and instead i let loose #this is unedited and unbetaed lmao but ENJOY #or don't #whatever #writing stuff #i should tag it #writing SHIT #but that's not really a tag i keep cause who wants to keep track of the negatives #not me

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neko-rogers · 4 years ago

Text

But It’s Better If You Do

Trying to keep your relationship with your professor was easy enough, until you learned that someone had found out about it.

words: 7,424 tags: manipulative!peter, explicit noncon/dubcon elements, degredation, implied overstimulation, blackmailing, kidnapping, college student and professor relationship,

a/n: whew this had a lot of words compared to what i usually write. plus, since im bad at titles, i’ll just use my fav song titles lmao. (ps. erik lehnsherr aka magneto is here and im just glad i could put him in my little fictional world bc im d biggest slut for him)

A complete lie, you just did not want to deal with college fuck boys.

The man in front of the class was practically pouring his heart out into the lecture. The chalkboard was filled with white letterings from left to right, not knowing where to start as you take down notes.

“It is important to keep in mind that bimolecular structure and function are dictated by the properties of the medium in which they are dissolved,” your professor explains while continually pacing from one end to the other among the students seated at the first row.

You decided to seat around the middle to the last row, knowing it was the least obvious way for other students in the class to notice how much you fawn over your Organic Chemistry professor rather than the subject itself.

Honestly you could listen to him talk for hours. All those information he had been discussing would not actually process through your thoughts. You knew that better than anyone.

But who honestly would invalidate your reason? Everyone can probably relate to hating Chemistry, no matter what subcategory it is.

Considering that this was probably one of the most difficult courses you had in your program. You were just thankful and lucky enough you landed on one of the hottest professors amongst the campus.

“Hey what did Professor Lehnsherr say about the problems during synthesis of proteins?” Peter asks.

In spite of being fortunate about everything else about this subject, you were not quite happy about Peter Parker following you around like a lost puppy. Especially during the classes you both have alike.

The boy constantly asks so much questions as if you were the teacher already. In addition, he seemed smart enough to figure things out yet somehow he keeps on bugging you for reassurance.

You did not want to be rude. He has not done anything to completely deserve your rage, however he was definitely getting on your nerves.

Honestly you would not want to be infuriated over his consistent queries, but you were just as distracted as he was, maybe even more. With this, you were looking dumber to him each day.

To anyones pride, it was probably a kick in the stomach. You knew you were not the brightest in this class, but it was best to leave the information to yourself. No need for anyone to point out how mindless you were.

And you really were not. You had other Science subjects you totally excel at. Sadly, Chemistry was just not one of them.

“Well, uh, I don’t think I got that part either.” You look aside where he was seated and awkwardly smiled at him before mentioning an apology, “Sorry, Peter.”

In return, Peter smiled at you and dismissed the question. You were not so sure whether to forget about it or take even the least bit of offense. You felt a little mocked by how easily he did it and innocently he smiled, but maybe you were just overthinking this through.

“It’s fine,” he tells. “I just didn’t get the third bullet, but I’ll try to review it in the textbook when I get home.”

“Oh okay, sure.”

“Speaking about reviewing,” Again, Peter tries to start another discourse.

“I was wondering if you got reviewers for the upcoming text for next week? We all know how difficult Professor Lehnsherr’s exams can get, right?” He lets out a forced chuckle, assuming it could lighten the mood.

As much as he tried to make small talks with you, almost everyday, today you really feel like you did not want to return the favor. Especially after having to bring up the test next week.

“I don’t really make reviewers, I usually just scan the books I have at home.”

Lies. You probably have a box full of index cards and sticky notes in your room.

You tried to use every studying tips every corner of the Internet could give. All those study-life hacks that really did not help much but pile up to your disorganized state of mind.

You fucking tried to study Chemistry. You really did.

“What, you don’t?!” He suddenly exclaims, not realizing the loudness of his voice as it almost caught the attention from people at front. “You seem to be busy all the time though. It’s like I always catch your writing or reading something in class.”

Maybe your mood was just off but it definitely seemed weird for him to say that. Though, you did not want to make something from what he said. It was not worth your time.

“I guess people are not always what they seem to be, yeah?”

Again, Peter gives out that soft chuckle and smile, “Then I guess so. You do make a point.”

He does not argue with you any further.

“Can I at least borrow your Physics book? I only bought Chemistry and Biotech for the semester. Didn’t know they would actually utilize it for once,” he scoffs.

At first you hesitated. You were reviewing for it too, but you already felt bad for being no help whenever he asks a question and often times disregarding him when your mood if off. Plus, you did just make it look like you were not much of a study-freak.

“Okay.”

He instinctively fist pumps the air and looks at you with a wide, grateful grin. “Thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver, Y/N.”

“Don’t mention it.” You grab the book he needs from your bag and hands it to him. He accepts it and places it inside his while also clearing the rest of his things.

Looking at his digital wristwatch wherein he raised his index finger up as if he figured something out of it, he says, “He’s going to dismiss the class in a few minutes. We should get ready for Cell Biology next period.

Oh how you hated it. Were you jumping to conclusions? Or was this boy really trying to be too close with you? Or was he just being nice and informing you to prepare ahead?

God, you did not give Peter Parker the right to cloud up your thoughts like this.

“Thanks,” you say, “but I need to talk to Professor Lehnsherr after class. Have to, uh, consult him about my concept paper that he made us submit last week.”

As he tidies his notebooks up and carelessly shoves it inside his backpack, he immediately looks back at you with a confused expression, “Oh, I can always wait for you–”

“It’s fine, Peter. Thank you though.” Two of your hands were instinctively waving in front of you, a meek gesture for him to stop coddling you or whatever move he had been trying to make at you.

“Are you sure? I–”

And if you were ought to be saved further from lashing out over Peter’s incessant attempts, you finally heard the words any student was longing to hear. “Class dismissed. I’ll see you all on Monday.”

“Eri–err, Professor Lensherr just dismissed the class. Better catch up to him before he heads out,” you hurriedly said. And with a loud slam from your notebook, you quickly shut him out. In addition, you practically shoved every thing in front of you into your bag without sparing a second glance.

One strap of your back was slung over your shoulder as you hurriedly flew down the aisle. Professor Lehnsherr was midway into packing his things before you interrupted and approached him.

“Professor,” you call out. “I have a question. About the paper I handed in last week.”

“Uhuh.” He faintly furrows his eyebrows, trying to hide his already obvious bewilderment. “I forgot which assignment was that, Ms. Y/L/N.”

There were students still exiting in class. So you tried your best to make your conversation with him less suspicious. He was most likely doing the same.

“It was about the Chemistry-proposal thing.” You snapped your fingers a few times as you gathered your train of thought, but realizing it was not going effectively. “Well I just wanted to confirm it since, you know, I was hoping for any feedback from you throughout this week.”

“I’m not sure if I have read it. I’ve certainly been busy this week,” he clarifies. “Nonetheless, we can talk about it later. Thank you for bringing it up. I’ll make sure to follow it up in my schedule, Ms. Y/N.”

Both of you made your way out the door once there were only a minuscule amount of students left in class. You probably had been looking at your professor with gushing stares, but you doubt the other people in the room could notice it. They were farther away from where both of you stood, much less would they be able to hear what the two of your were talking about.

“Oh thank you so much, sir!” You almost cried out and jumped in joy while reaching through the threshold. Moreover, you composed yourself before mumbling out, “I’ll see you later, Eric.”

In which you were certain no one would have heard it besides him.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

“I’m sure you’ll get a good grade in the exams, Y/N,” Eric leans back to his seat with a humble smile upon his face.

“Really? I doubt so, there’s a kid in your class that keeps bugging me out to a study date, or whatever you call it,” you sneer. You lick your lips as you finish taking a sip around the wine glass, setting it down and looking back at the man you were having dinner with. “It’s getting very annoying though, he surely knows how to get on my nerves.”

“I’m sure he’s just trying to flirt with you, like any other college boys do.” He optimistically and maturely lays out the options. “It’s pretty normal for anyone to chase someone they are fond of, especially for young adults like you.”

It was a pretty obvious sign that he was trying to let his message reach you.

“Well, I apologize for my standards of men,” you say. “I just want to skip the whole heartbreak in college and character development. All that stuff you usually see in a typical teen romance movie.”

You sigh, looking down and saying, “I already found a man for me. Why would I stoop down for some guy who’s most likely wanting something from me, and dumping me once he got what he wanted.”

“Y/N, I don’t blame you for liking men that’s ten years older than you,” Eric assures. “But I want you to realize that you still have a lot to look forward after graduating

“And I look forward for you too!” You tried to not raise your voice, though having dinner in his house wouldn’t really catch anyones attention. “I can’t wait to finally graduate from second semester and be able to spend more time, publicly, with you.”

“Yes, I understand, honey.” He places his hand over yours as he tries to calm you down. “Like I said, I just want you to make sure that you’ve clearly thought this through.”

Eric adds, “There’s plenty of men out there. I don’t want to take away your opportunity of experiencing something new at such a young age.”

“I’m turning twenty-four! I promise you I’m thinking everything through.” Your voice was much weaker than a few seconds ago. The evident tone of strength fades even with one glance from the man in front of you. You felt yourself shrink in your seat. But you were sure he does not intend to frighten you into compliance.

“Sorry,” you pout. “Didn’t mean to raise my voice.”

“I understand, and I won’t pressure you any more tonight, okay?” He tries to uplift your mood, detecting quickly the shift of the room’s atmosphere. “You deserve a good dinner tonight, like I promised, sweetie.”

His smile made you calmer. It was then that you realized why you were attracted to a man like him even if he was still your teacher.

The way he handles you in any given situation so sensibly. Though it may feels intimidating at first, he consequently tries to override the tone of the conversation which cheers you up.

With one hand, he hold yours and gently draws it towards him at the same moment he leans his head down. Eric presses a kiss against the back of your hand and you butterflies immediately fill inside your stomach. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Every doubt you had entirely disappeared now. If there were hints of you hesitating to continue seeing Eric, they were certainly long gone now.

“Let me drive you home after dinner,” he offers, like the gentleman he is.

Eric always does make sure you get home safe. However, you both agreed that he drops you off at least a block away from your house. Just in case people around your neighborhood might catch you, or worse your parents.

It was not like you were ashamed of your relationship with Eric. Cautious was the term.

You were only a few months in seeing him. Fair enough, he was your second semester professor and the both of you met before that period.

You were not only risking the wrath of your parents once they hear you’re dating an older man, let alone your Chemistry teacher. But you were also putting him at risk if ever his faculty finds out.

Eventually, the two of you pack up and end your conversation. Other than talking about college, the two of you also talk more about yourselves which has progressed you into learning more about each other’s personalities and likes.

He helps you out of his house and into the passenger seat of his car. It had been more than thrice wherein he drove you home, and the familiar scent of leather and the typical Glad air fresheners has clung onto your nose. You strap on your seatbelt on just as he was getting inside the driver’s side.

The ride was not entirely dead silent. Eric made a few more small talks before finally turning a right which was where he usually drops you off. It amazes you how instantly he remembered the way to your home, as you instructed him the first time.

“Thank you for tonight, like always, Eric.”

As always, you made your way out of his car prior to giving him a kiss. You only had to walk straight ahead, glancing at your home which had one dim light illuminating through one window.

Upon entering the house, you figured your parents were already asleep and a hint of the living room lamp was present. Taking the benefit of not having to be interrogated by anyone, you rushed upstairs to your bedroom, turned on the lights, and immediately closed the door behind you with a sigh of relief. A smile was also visible after recalling your night with Eric.

As you made your way towards your bed, a piece of paper lays obvious in the middle of it. Your sheets were flattened and tidied, so you could obviously detect when something is placed on top of it. You have no memory of leaving it early in the morning before you left too.

When picking the paper up, you realized it was a piece of polaroid film. Its back was facing you, having no idea what to expect at the front.

At that point, the smile from your face turned into horror and all the color in you basically drained away.

The picture displayed you and Eric at one dinner night out from a few days ago, you still remember. It could have been anything but malicious, but the way his hand was intertwined with yours as both of you laugh away without worries. It was clear as day, the light shining perfectly at the both of you. Anyone can conclude what was happening in the picture.

You did not know this day would come. The picture was taken from Eric’s home to prevent such things like this from happening. So it puzzled you just as much at it terrified you.

This was definitely someone who had been stalking either one of you. It was not a mere instance like paparazzis who catch celebrities dating on the streets of New York.

Someone definitely have been observing the two of you.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

Days have passed, a week almost. Examinations are scheduled for tomorrow.

And you prayed that the picture you received would be the only thing terrorizing your dreams. But you were completely wrong.

From thereon, you started to receive more pictures, specifically one every morning and night, from your past hangouts with Eric. It were simple shots but had the power to completely jeopardize either one of you, mostly him at stake though.

It was obvious that the person behind this was definitely observing the two of you for a while. Probably even during the most earliest weeks when your relationship with him started.

Though it may seem unfair, you did not mention anything about it to Eric. It was enough the he was keeping with you, his job, and himself private – which clearly was not working out so well. You felt like it was your responsibility to handle this situation. You were so sure you did not try to publicize anything and kept it on the low.

Nevertheless, it was out there. Eric had not mentioned anything so you assumed he did not receive a picture like you did.

Currently, you were seated at the farthest row at the back of the room, somewhat near the corner. Physics was your last subject and you could not wait but finally leave.

In addition, you texted Eric that you would not be seeing him until after the exams. It was an easy excuse not to see him, saying that you wanted to focus on studying for it; however, you knew that you would just be busy thinking about the creepy stalker gallery you have been receiving.

“Hey.” Unsurprisingly, a familiar voice whispers next to you which disrupts your heavy train of thoughts. “You finished studying for tomorrow? I’m about to end my review with Chemistry later.”

“Cool.” Probably the one of the most basic replies in the universe. “I haven’t finished studying, I’m kind of dealing with a lot of things recently.”

You made sure to generalize your answer, but enough for him to sympathize and at least give you some space.

“Oh, sorry to hear about that.” Peter frowns. He takes his seat a few desks away from your left, leaving you to continue thinking. You were thankful for his gesture too.

Surprisingly enough the boy barely bothered you for the entire lecture. You were still engrossed on finding out whoever was stalking you, even so dating back to boys you evidently rejected during the first semester – who badmouthed you immediately afterwards. There were not a lot of names, so it was easy to remember who was who.

You traced back to each boy and remembered what they said after you told them you were not ready to enter a relationship – a complete lie, you just did not want to deal with college fuck boys.

Just as you expected from any of them, rumors have spread out about you which was mostly shaming you physically or mentally. Some were milder insults than the other yet at the end of the day you did not care.

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself. “Who was that boy at Liz’s party.”

Your eyes were sealed shut, recalling a list of names while using your thumb and middle finger to massage your temples. It was getting frustrating and mentally exhausting.

After some time, you had so much word filling in and our of your brain that you were not aware that your own name was being called. Your heart practically skipped a beat after hearing it the first time, assuming that you were being called to recite an answer. But you became content after seeing that it was just Peter, who started tapping your arm to get your attention.

“Huh?” You lightly shake your head before turning your head aside.

“Oh, class was dismissed a few minutes earlier than usual–”

“Don’t forget to answer the assignment regarding thermodynamic concepts found it the book. You’ll hand it in immediately on Wednesday.” The professor addresses the class as they were already carrying their bags and themselves out the room.

You start placing your stationeries inside yours, packing your other things up until it was only a pair of earphones and your phone left in front. Peter stood near the aisle while looking at you just as you were zipping your bag shut.

“Oh shoot, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he states out of nowhere causing you to furrow your eyebrows at him. “I forgot I still haven’t returned your Physics book I borrowed last week.”

Nodding your head and standing up, you shrug it off. “It’s fine. You can return it tomorrow.”

“Sure, but how will you do your Physics assignment?”

Oh yeah. Your professor literally reminded the class a few seconds ago.

“I think I might be able to do it overnight. How many pages is the task?”

“Eight, or nine I think.” He frowns looking very guilty at you.

“Shit,” you swore. That was a lot of pages than the usual assignments given.

“Yeah, professor said it could help add points if you somehow get a bad grade at the tests.”

“Never mind,” you tried to set his mistake aside. “I’ll try to do it within overnight tomorrow. I can ask for help from my friend tomorrow morning and–”

“Wait! I realized you can stop by my apartment to get it.”

“Oh–er, Peter, I don’t think I have time to–

“It’s just nearby the campus, I promise,” he assures and adds, “it wouldn’t be a hassle, it’s probably on your way home anyway so it won’t make a difference.”

“Uhm.” You were doubtful of him.

However, you did realize that you did not have anything to do after class. You were keeping distance with Eric for the meantime which meant that your schedule was mostly vacant after this.

“Please,” he begs, “I feel so bad for keeping it the whole week. I swear it’s like a few blocks from here.”

“Would it take more than twenty minutes?” You purse your lips, convincing yourself that you would rather force yourself to study at home than spend it at someone’s apartment.

“I only take around ten minutes to walk so,” he answers. “Unless you’re a slow walker, of course.” The tone of his voice seeming to be joking.

Again, he pleads. This kid will not fucking budge.

“Fine,” you blurt out. Though, you realized your sudden-almost lash out moment at the boy that you made sure to reiterate it but slower, “I mean, sure. I can stop by your apartment to pick up my book.”

An awaited smile and sense of agreement washes over you.

Peter then leads the way as you walked behind him, maintaining a short distance so people would not throw out any suspicious looks. Like in every college, everyone knows just how fast gossips formulate and rumors spread.

If you think about it though, it might avert anyone’s suspicion – mainly pertaining to your creepy stalker – with you and your Professor. But you were not prepared for that yet, maybe some time when you can finally think about its consequences through.

True to his word, as the both of you exited the campus, it took a short time before the boy in front of you told that you were about to enter through the entrance to the building of his apartment. You were not so sure if it was really a momentary walk or because you were so focused on thinking and keeping a distance.

At some points he did often look back in case you got lost from following him. Plus, like always, he asked you simple questions either about your day or your subjects to make small talk. In which case, you were barely answering him but definitely progressed compared to when he attempted for previous times during class.

In addition, as the two of you walked down the block, the number of faces you could only assume was in college decreased. Meaning that the glares at you eased up.

“Well, here’s my location.” A loud huff follows as he uses a key to unlock the door for the entrance to the building, “It wasn’t that far, was it?”

“Yeah, I guess it wasn’t that far.” You agree as he holds the door for you and then walks right after you.

As Peter leads you upstairs onto around the fourth level, he proceeds to walk along the corridors. The array of same beige colored doors with small golden indents of unit numbers paraded along it too. Eventually he stops and inserts a key into the lock, twisting it until hearing the unlocking sound.

For a moment you hesitated to follow him. You just wanted your book and you were sure he can give it to you on a shorter span than your walk from campus to here. Was it that troublesome?

Entering his complex, you discovered how minimalistic it looked. To be fair it seemed quite small, the living room instantly greeting you through the entrance and a kitchenette at the side. But since his things were tidied up, it looked roomy.

You instinctively close the door behind you, slightly aware that it did not create a locking sound. Following Peter, you took a few more steps until you stood still at the passageway between his living room and entryway.

“Do you want a drink?” Peter asks.

“No thank you.” You were still trying to subtle. “I just want my Physics book, Peter. Please?”

He looked at you and paused for a split second. You could feel the frown behind the expressionless look. “Yeah. Okay. Sure,” he nods for a few times before turning around and proceeding to a seemingly narrow hallway. “I’ll get it in my room. Be back in a second.”

Your feet faintly paced back and forth, still where you stood a few meters between the entrance and living room. After a few more minutes, Peter emerges carrying the familiar book with one hand.

He approaches you within a few stops but stops in his tracks, leaving a distance from you. “Well uh,” he starts as his chin was tucked.

“I just want to tell you something before I hand you back your book.” He looks up at you with really pleading eyes. During other instances in university, you were definitely familiar with that look. However, this one probably ranked as one of the most downhearted ones.

You did not want to feel regretful for him. Though it definitely feels like you just kicked a puppy.

“Was is it?”

“I love you,” he blurts out as his face goes back from hiding and looking down.

It seemed awkward. You were somewhat expecting it, but you were also hoping that this day would not come – or not at least until you graduate and leave the university.

“Oh.” You honestly did not want to react.

Were you going to say sorry? How about thank you? Would it be better if you said you did not like him back? Or will the best response be that you are already taken?

“Peter, I–”

“Are you really dating Eric?” He shots up with eyes appearing almost teary.

What. The. Fuck.

“No,” you mutter. It was not much of an answer to his question. It was more on being quite horrified as your mind started jumping to conclusions.

The amount of things running around your mind right now was immeasurable.

Firstly, anyone could make two and two out of what he said, especially knowing that no one knows it even so around your circle of friends.

Secondly, you should have thought better. Your doubts with Peter should have been grater and you totally underestimated him. However, some part of you prayed that he was just an annoyingly awkward nerd who follows his friends regarding flirting tips.

Lastly, you turned around and ran.

You probably got your way with opening the door and taking two steps out. It was not long before you felt arms wrap around your waist and either side of your arms. You were then lifted and pulled behind while you tried to kick at the air as an escape. Did not work though.

Peter was surprisingly stronger than you thought. He already seemed fairly muscular at class, hiding behind those long sleeved sweaters and flannels.

Eventually the last thing you remember was the image of the door of his apartment open while you get sucked into the room further. Everything went black afterwards.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

When you felt that you were slowly restoring to consciousness, you were aware of the pounding at the back of your head and your arms.

You tried to move your hands, wanting to press against the parts of your body that were aching. But you felt incapacitated as your wriggled your wrists around and felt an unfamiliar sticky fluid enveloping around them.

“Glad you’re awake,” a voice says. “Does your head hurt?”

You tried to open your eyes, the dark lighting of the room not cooperating with your vision. A light from the window and a lamp were the only things that helped you form something out of the void.

From there you saw Peter Parker sitting closely beside you at the edge of the bed.

Hell please let this be a nightmare.

“What–” You groan, “What do you want from me.”

Your mind was building up your anger yet your body says otherwise. You felt exhausted and heavy.

Peter shushed you in a caring manner, “We’ll talk when you feel better. I’ll let you get more rest okay, sweetie?”

“Uhh.”

That was what you could remember the most. If you have awoken for other times in between your sleep, then you surely did not have an idea of it.

When you finally woke up, the level of your grogginess felt little to none already. You looked around and saw that the room was still dark and seemingly still nighttime.

As your head was twisting from side to side, you saw Peter appear from the doorway carrying a translucent cup filled with water in one hand. “Hey, you’re finally awake.”

Instead of replying to him, your wrists writhe beneath the fluid that you are still not familiar of. You could not really look up to get a good view of what it was, but it was wet, sticky, and felt like super glue.

On the other hand, both your legs, ankles, and feet were free. The back of your thighs bounced against the bed as you struggled, but it would not do much since your arms were practically stuck.

“Fuck,” you grumble.

“That won’t help. You’re pretty much stuck there,” he says, Then he takes a seat at the edge of the bed, alike where you remembered him positioned from earlier, “Might as well talk to me until I let you go.”

“Okay then, when will you let me go?” Your voice was calm hoping you could talk your way out of this mess.

“If you behave for me like a good girl, okay?”

Shivers went up your spine as you cringed at his statement.

Immediately, your mood shifts from calm to furious after hearing his disturbing bargain. Then purposely rolling your eyes for him to see. “How the hell will I behave if you’re a creepy stalker! You disgust me!”

Peter hums, displaying a look wherein he seems like he was thinking. You were not sure if it was sarcastic or not, either way it annoyed the hell out of you. “Creepy stalker sounds overstated, it was more on being curious.”

You scoff as well as exclaim, “You sent me photographs of me and Eric at his house! Fucking hell, Peter.”

“Oh yeah that part.” He slyly pouts his lips to the side as he comes to realize what he had done, “I guess it was a bit creepy–” “What do you mean a bit? That was invasion of privacy!”

Despite being trapped, both your hands balled into a fist, feeling very furious at his dense answers. “I was living my own life! I kept my relationships to myself,” you cry out.

“Yes, but you weren’t completely living your life,” he whispers while gently combing his hair through the front of your hair. “You deserve much more than someone who couldn’t proudly tell that you’re his girl. Is he even a man? Do you really enjoy that kind of life, sweetie?”

“We were happy,” you weep. The evident crack on your voice was a signal that you were about to cry though you were not sure if it was because you were held hostage or because you were worried for Eric.

No one would understand your situation with him right now. Especially Peter.

“Trust me you weren’t,” he scoffs. “You deserve so much more, and I can give you that.”

“I’d rather be alone forever than be with you, asshole!” Your voice was inconsistent, clearly affected by how fast Peter’s mood also shifts quickly.

You also figured you were not looking entirely fresh while crumbling beneath him. Drops of tears and sweat were all over your face and neck, both your eyelids felt swollen, and your nose was almost stuffed.

Peter stand from the edge of the bed and advances to his desk from the side. A harsh bang echoed throughout the room as your body twitched out of shock.

“What does that dick have that I don’t?!” He grits his teeth as the curves of his jaw intensifies. A displeased look was written all over his face.

“P-please let me go.”

“I need you to answer, sweetie. We going nowhere unless you answer!” He was never going to let you go if you were not going to cooperate.

Every step he takes closer back to the bed just increases your heart beat further. He had rolled the sleeves of his sweater up to the edge of his elbows and you felt threatened looking at how firm his arms looked.

“Peter, p-please,” you hiccup.

As Peter returns to the edge of the bed, he does not hesitate anymore to keep a distance. His hands hover to either sides over your body and sets the left side of his head on your midriff, laying while also getting a good view of your vulnerable state.

He does not even look life he was struggling to make an effort to keep you down, but you could feel how heavy he was and was barely giving you a chance to move around.

“I can give you so much more, Y/N.” The way his gaze directs at you was definitely one of the creepiest things you have experienced. He had so much emotions yet completely lacked sympathy for your state of mind.

Shutting your eyes, you only cried further. You felt a hand cup one of your cheeks as its thumb wipes away the pouring tears. Like a broken record, you only pleaded more, “Please let me go.”

“I can’t.”

“Why.” You bawled, realizing he has no plans of releasing you anytime soon despite it. “I won’t tell anyone about this, I p-promise.”

“I know that,” he says, “but you’re going to run back to Eric, probably tell him too, right?”

You did not want to answer, merely shaking your head as you resisted a cry from your lips. It was somewhat what you had planned, but now you were just scared shitless.

“You won’t tell anyone but him cause no one knows about it other than you two, right?” He corners your words.

“Eric would lose his job if someone, especially your parents find out, right?” Hell he was correct. He most likely had been stalking you for so long to find out about it.

“You love him so much, you wouldn’t want to hinde

It was terrifying that someone had been learning about you and your life for a while without your awareness.

“Please stop. What do you want... money?” you whimper.

Peter did not seem likes normal college boy; he does not think like one, too, for sure. Anyone with a right mind would not do something like what he did. No one would have the guts to do so.

“I just want you, Y/N. I want to give you what you deserve,” Peter answers as he sits up and leans his face closer to yours. His mouth leaves a small gap from your right ear as he whispers, “Let me make you feel good.”

“No–”

He cuts off your plea with a proposition, “If you let me, I might consider letting you free.”

“You want that, right? Want me to let you go...” His hand combs through the other side of your face, “just let me show you that I can do way better than him.”

Every ounce of your blood was trying not to give in. You were smart, you ought to find a way out of this. However, you realized that it will not be enough. You already struggled so much from the super glue around your wrists and you could not imagine how much more would it take now that Peter was on top of you.

Eventually you stopped struggling and let him be. There was no way out of this than to let him do what he pleases.

You feel his lips press against your ear first and then progresses over your cheek. His grip around your arms loosen after detecting that you stopped struggling beneath him. You could feel him smile on your skin, “That’s it, relax for me. Good girl.”

His hand reaches to undo your pants as his lips drifted on yours to force their way on making out with you. Another hand then presses under your jaw and throat. “P-Peter,” you choke, feeling lightheaded after being unable to breath properly though your mouth until the grip had loosen.

“Sorry, babe.”

He soon descends from your face to your neck and collar region. You were so sure he was leaving marks on you as you felt him suck and nibble against your skin. Like a controlling asshole he was, you expect to see bruises on your skin by tomorrow.

Despite having your hands fastened, he still moves your shirt upwards past your head. It halts and hands loosely around your arms as you emerge topless beneath the boy.

“Fucking beautiful,” Peter compliments your body under his breath.

Although he seemed to have time on his hands, he does not leave a second wasted. He also goes to haul your pants past your legs and ankles. The growing look of impatience on his face says it all.

Peter moves from your side and welcomes himself between your legs. He spreads them out to have enough space for his body and you could not feel more embarrassed than this.

You grit your teeth over each other as you felt him press fingers against your cunt. Instinctively, you clench around nothing as he continues to play with your entrance, making sure you get entirely soaked under his touch.

“You know you shouldn’t hold back. I know you’re loving it so far, your body says otherwise,” he teases before laying on his stomach and moving his head closer to your pussy.

Without a warning, he licks a strip of you making the back of your thighs quake lightly. Peter senses your reaction and continues to do so, using his tongue to play around and poke inside of you until you were slowly giving in without even realizing it.

Just as you thought you were getting used to his actions, he then inserts fingers inside you, feeling your warmth around it as he pushes it in and out.

“Oh,” you moan.

He continues, making sure he also does not leave your bud of nerves behind. The tip of his fingers and tongue alternate on playing against it, making you throw back your head out of pleasure.

“I bet he doesn’t please you like this,” he scoffs.

Eventually, at your vulnerable state, you could already feel yourself closing to an orgasm. Your toes curled as your temples throbbed, sealing your eyes shut as you accepted on giving in.

You bit onto your lower lip, trying to resist a moan. Somewhere inside you, you were still trying to fight back and not let Peter have the satisfaction he had been craving.

“You’re being so tight... Just let it out.” He coaxes and you hate how you did what he told you so.

The extensive grin on his face seemed priceless. He pulled back and you were aware that you seemed exhausted beneath him. You assumed he was done with whatever he wanted to do with you.

But when he started to take off his sweater and unbutton his pants, you realized it was far from over.

As he presents himself just as naked in front of you, he again welcomes himself between your legs. This time you get a better view of him and his muscles and abs. He gets a good view of your body too for sure as his hand reaches to start stroking his dick.

He places one hand on your thigh and pushes it farther to give him more room. Finally, he inserts in inside you and you automatically felt him throbbing between.

There was a growing heat between the both of you, and it only intensified as Peter started to thrust his hips forward and backwards. There was not even a rhythm from him as he moves harder after hearing you softly moan underneath.

The slapping sound echoes through the room that would eventually reek of sex and you felt ashamed that your body was enjoying all of this.

“Ah… ah… ahh… agh….”

“You’re starting to enjoy this, aren’t you?” He brags as one hand was reaching for your breasts while the other holds your thigh up. “Fucking slut.”

Your body and mind were tired and could only hold so much longer. It was not a surprise when your stomach started to churn your the muscles in your thighs were cramping up.

Peter did no help after seeing you starting to wear out. He tried leaning in to make out with you and expect to moan into his mouth. You did for a moment, a combination of both your drools were streaming down from the corner of your mouth.

“We’re making a mess, huh,” he mumbles. “But I know you’re already a dirty fucking girl.”

He proceeds to deprave you with statements, “Can’t believe you’re enjoying my cock better than that old man’s... Such a fucking whore.”

You twist your head aside, trying to hide the fact that you feel like your temperature were burning up. You were so sure he could feel the increasing warmth of your walls either way.

Your eyes were rolling back as you resist arching your back, which was not really a success as the amount of pleasure was overwhelming.

As you writhe beneath him, you felt a hand on your cheek. It pushes your head back onto looking at front and at Peter. “I want you t look at me when you’re going to cum, sweetie,” he orders and you could not do much anyways.

The second time you came was a whole other level. You never felt this with any person you slept with so far, rather not this fast and intense to say. “That’s it, fuck, you’re tighter than I could ever imagine.”

Peter continues until it was his time to cum. The bed continues to move along with his pace and your body was basically abused to his liking.

And even if you were not aware of it, the boy was practically thankful that his agency decided to agree to soundproofing his whole apartment – his motive being for personal reasons, which they did not question any time soon.

You were helpless, you knew that. All you had in mind now was rest. Your eyelids were heavy and your mind was drifting to slumber.

The last thing you remember was Peter moving over your body to come all around your chest like a painter with its paint brush creating a masterpiece from your chest to your core.

“I love you.”

a/n: ily pls leave comments <3

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